PERFORMING ARTS

Thursday, May 25, 2006; Page C08

Fessenden Ensemble


The 250th anniversary of Mozart's birth is a worldwide celebration this year, marked by countless concert galas devoted to his symphonies, operas, concertos and chamber music. On Tuesday night, Washington's Fessenden Ensemble opened its final performance of the season with an enchanting romp through Mozart's Quartet, K. 298, for flute, violin, viola and cello. The buoyant, glistening timbre of flutist Carole Bean was matched by the ardent tonal splendor of violinist John Hughes, violist Tam Tran and cellist Mark Evans.

The vibrant resonance of the sanctuary at St. Columba's Episcopal Church (in Northwest Washington) stood the Mozart in good stead as it did with five of Edvard Grieg's "Lyric Pieces," arranged for woodwind quintet, and Louis Spohr's "Grand Nonetto," Op. 31. The players coated the Grieg with alfresco coloring, missing none of its folklike rusticity, as in the jaunty "Sailor's Song." The Spohr is really a work of chamber orchestra dimensions and sonority, combining a string quartet with a woodwind quintet in some imaginative ways. Though the Nonetto has a ponderous, repetitive side to it, the performance was engaging despite some squishy phrase endings.

-- Cecelia Porter

Rashanim


There was briefly a band -- British, of course -- called We've Got a Fuzzbox and We're Gonna Use It. That would also be an apt name for Rashanim, the instrumental trio that showcased its grace and versatility Monday night at the D.C. Jewish Community Center. Guitarist Jon Madof and bassist Shanir Blumenkranz deployed some 15 effects boxes and pedals in their quest for the outer limits of fuzz, tremolo and wah-wah. Of course, Rashanim is also a suitable tag. It derives from the noisemakers used during Purim, an exuberant Jewish holiday, and the trio plays the compositions of self-styled "radical Jewish culture" composer John Zorn.

Compared to Zorn's wildest experiments, the music Rashanim played was not radical. It drew on familiar rock, funk and blues styles, and included some jazzy acid-rock passages that could have been played almost 40 years ago at the Fillmore West. (Yes, there was a drum solo.) But the music also incorporated motifs from klezmer and other traditional Jewish forms, and was punctuated by squeals and blares that could be termed punk.

The electric guitar has enormous capabilities for cacophony, but it was Blumenkranz's bass that most often ventured into pure noise. Drummer Mathias Kunzli worked the gentler end of the spectrum, producing rhythms with shakers and finger cymbals and sometimes playing his kit with brushes, mallets or his bare hands. The three musicians may not have entered the most anarchic sectors of Zorn's sonic universe, but they covered a lot of territory without ever losing their way.

-- Mark Jenkins


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