PERFORMING ARTS

Tuesday, March 11, 2008

The LK

On "Vs. the Snow," Swedish duo the LK sometimes sounds like a synth-pop outfit. Live on Sunday night at the Kennedy Center Millennium Stage, it occasionally gave this impression, but most of the music derived from sweet vocals, a stripped-down drum kit and an electric guitar. Once part of a band called the Lovekevins, guitarist Fredrik and singer Lindefelt (they go by solo names) were playing only their fourth gig in their current incarnation with Lindefelt as stand-up percussionist, but they were largely successful in combining radio-friendly sounds with underground, artsy elements.

Performing in front of a screen showing animation videos by various Swedish artists, they opened strongly with the melancholy "Stop Being Perfect." Lindefelt's unusually phrased English lyrics did not convey any straightforward meaning, but the gorgeous vocal melody, subdued guitar playing and programmed whooshing noises nevertheless supplied an emotional impact. "Down by Law" did not work quite as well: Although it featured some affecting cornet blowing from Fredrik, the song lacked a catchy enough hook to stand out.

"Private Life of a Cat" did a better job of exhibiting the duo's strengths. Again, some of the lyrics made little sense ("Can you tell now the answer to disco?"), but this did not matter. With Lindefelt standing on his toes singing the repeated bittersweet refrain "Where did all the love go?" and banging out snare drum beats, and Fredrik adding jangly guitar lines, the LK nicely blended minimalistic and mainstream touches.

-- Steve Kiviat

The Washington Chorus

For the first time in its 47 years, the Washington Chorus is looking for a new conductor. Three candidates have been taking turns this concert season at leading the singers, and the selection committee hopes to pick the winner by this summer. Conducting Sunday's program at National City Christian Church, Joshua Habermann, a professor of music in San Francisco, drew from the voices an exciting sense of immediacy and confidence.

A constant ebb and flow of sound extended to the final measure of every work in the program. The most meaningful and original piece was the opener, Benjamin Britten's now-classic cantata "Rejoice in the Lamb," an audacious spoof in its witty verses glorifying the diversity of creation. The text -- by the deranged 18th-century British poet Christopher Smart -- is an idiosyncratic ode to his gracefully "wreathing" cat Jeoffry, a "valorous" mouse and various other flora and fauna.

Aided by the skillfully rendered organ accompaniment of Charles Miller and fine vocal soloists, the chorus visibly enjoyed the music, immersing their voices in its sweetly radiant melodic lines and incisive dramatic effects.

Tarik O'Regan's "Dorchester Canticles" and Morten Lauridsen's "Lux Aeterna" followed the Britten. Both are pleasantly derivative -- embedded in that British tradition of music for stone cathedrals borrowed by a plethora of American composers as well, though O'Regan's percussion and harp additions were effective extras. This is music comfortable to sing and accessible to listeners -- meaning it sells to the typical audience and choral group.

-- Cecelia Porter

The Pogues

You know that feeling when the singer reaches the second verse of the national anthem, and the crowd switches from bellowing every syllable to awkwardly slurring the melody? That's what the vocals at a Pogues gig sound like. And we're not just talking about the crush of Guinness-sweating punters waiting impatiently to howl the chorus of "Sally MacLennane" or "The Body of an American." It's Pogues frontman Shane MacGowan, too -- especially him. Even back in the Irish trad-punk ensemble's Thatcher-era heyday, he disguised his poignant, funny lyrics beneath an unintelligible delivery.

Watching MacGowan, now puffy and paunchy, amble onstage at the 9:30 club on Sunday recalled Keith Richards's customary concert greeting, "It's good to be here. It's good to be anywhere." The years since the band sacked MacGowan for Winehouse-style problems in 1991 and reinstated him in 2001 (sporadic tours followed, but no new music) appear to have been anything but kind. But MacGowan still has a banshee wail to beat Howard Dean's, and the singer's abrasive growl is all a band this marvelous needs to give its amphetamine-spiked take on Irish folk a focal point.

The set started off shaky, MacGowan singing of "goin' where streams of whiskey are flowin'," and looking like he'd arrived there already. He grew more lucid and powerful as the evening gathered steam, through two hours and 26 songs, mostly from the Pogues' first three (and best) albums.

Singing their lone post-MacGowan hit, "Tuesday Morning," and other tunes, tin-whistler Spider Stacy proved himself an animated frontman, banging his head against a metal tray to give the closing "Fiesta" some extra percussion. Guitarist Phil Chevron, treated last year for throat cancer, sounded weak singing his own "Thousands Are Sailing" -- one of the band's finest recorded moments -- but you were glad he tried. Hearing him reminded us it's good to be anywhere. But to be here, with this band on this night, well, that was great.

-- Chris Klimek

Arlington Philharmonic

When violinist Victor Danchenko joined the Arlington Philharmonic for a concerto on Sunday, he bowed first to the musicians, then to the audience before signaling for two stage lights to be dimmed and asking the first violins to scoot back a few feet. His requests only prolonged what had been an unusually long wait for his appearance onstage. But once settled comfortably, the soloist inspired some of the orchestra's best playing during a free afternoon program at Kenmore Middle School in Arlington.

Tchaikovsky's well-known violin showpiece -- the Concerto in D, Op. 35 -- was dispatched in a methodical manner by the Peabody Conservatory of Music faculty member. Danchenko's bowing technique yielded a brusque tone in the work's virtuosic sections. But during lyrical passages, particularly in the Canzonetta, he displayed an achingly beautiful sonority that was reflected in the orchestra's glowing winds and strings.

The 39 instrumentalists, under Music Director Ruben Vartanyan, gave the violinist ample opportunities to perform at his own pace. Danchenko seized them, sometimes delaying the ends of phrases, sometimes charging ahead with a fiery determination.

Vartanyan's penchant for details resulted in music that caressed the ears in Bizet's Symphony No. 1 in C and Mozart's Symphony No. 32 in G, K. 318. Though the orchestra produced many sonic pearls, the pieces lacked a holistic connection -- a string to pull the gems into a necklace. As the two-year-old organization matures, we can expect those links to solidify, one by one.

-- Grace Jean

Fine Arts Quartet

The Milwaukee-based Fine Arts Quartet, with Brazilian piano virtuoso Cristina Ortiz, gave an interesting program Sunday at Dumbarton Oaks, including the rarely heard piano quintets of Franck and Faur¿ (No. 1), with the Shostakovich Quartet No. 1 for a curtain-raiser.

This ensemble exudes mature, seasoned musicianship. Together for many years, its members do not try to showboat or emote; they focus on the music. At times, one hears a whiff of routine in their playing, but it is a very high-level routine. And they have the sine qua non of every great string quartet, which is a strong second violinist. Efim Boico brings first-violin chops and presence, but willingly subsumes himself into the quartet fabric. Leader Ralph Evans is solid and fluent, though he applies an undifferentiated vibrato to everything. The lower strings are excellent.

The Shostakovich is a slight work, but it contains a nasty scherzo, which the Fine Arts tossed off flawlessly.

Faur¿'s quintet, like so much of his music, features lovely themes, usually tinged with Gallic nostalgia. The problem is lack of sufficient contrasting material; events just meander by without much profile. Serious appreciation of this particular work is further hampered by the almost note-for-note resemblance of the finale's main theme to "Fly Me to the Moon."

The Franck quintet certainly has more pith, particularly in the dreamy Lento, but here Ortiz often overpowered her partners. With the piano lid up, they were at her mercy and she gave no quarter.

-- Robert Battey