The following is an excerpt of a review, to be published, of the Philadelphia Orchestra's March 13, 2015, concert.
There’s a little suburb just north of Vienna, Austria, where Ludwig van Beethoven, going deaf and considering suicide, retreated in 1802 to write his last will and testament. To the relief of the human race, the composer largely got over his dark slump, and in the same neighborhood, filled with white-washed cottages, golden vineyards, and near a little brook about the size of a drainage ditch, he later worked on his Sixth Symphony, the Pastoral.
The Sixth was premiered in the famous “monster concert” of the composer’s works in the Theater an der Wien on December 22, 1808, when Beethoven was 38. It was the first work on the four-hour-plus program, which also featured the debut of the Fifth Symphony. Often called the sunniest of the master’s nine symphonies, the Sixth formed part of an elegant pre-Spring program March 13, 2015, with the Philadelphia Orchestra, Cristian Macelaru, conductor-in-residence, at the podium.
The young conductor, winner of the Solti Award and considered a rising star in the symphonic firmament, led the orchestra in a huge, gushing, no-holds-barred performance. Nothing wrong with that; it does justice to Beethoven and brings smiles of delight to winter-weary audiences.
However. Beethoven’s sunniest symphony is also one of his airiest and most transparent. If ever a work cried out for original instruments, scaled down forces, subtle innuendos, and a lighter touch, it is the radiant Sixth. I don’t think it was my location in the Kimmel Center (in Philadelphia, Pa.), since I had the same seat the previous week with no ill effects, but the work at times seemed to slog through the heavy weight of cellos and violas, especially in the opening two movements. As close to program music as a Beethoven symphony gets, these sections seemed less reminiscent of a gurgling brook and more like Thor heaving lightning bolts down the Rhine.
Yet, there were crystalline moments, including some elegant woodwind playing at the end of the second movement, poignant when we recall that by this time, Beethoven could no longer hear birdsongs in the natural world he loved so well. Just as Shakespeare can withstand endless variations and settings, from Italian medieval to American Mafia, Beethoven’s symphonies thrive on a rich variety of interpretations. While not my preferred reading of the Sixth, Macelaru’s version is compelling, exciting, and should keep audiences who value thrills over nuance coming back for more.
Sunday, March 15, 2015
Saturday, March 14, 2015
November 2014 Organ Blast at Kimmel Center
The new organ on stage at the Kimmel Center, notes my son-in-law, looks like a crustacean. How appropriate for the instrument of Bach (“brook” in German) I thought as Paul Jacobs, organist extraordinaire, stepped briskly onto the stage, conductor Yannick Nézet-Séguin in hot pursuit.
It was the November 7th matinee with the Philadelphia Orchestra, some of the finest instrumentalists in the nation, performing an exciting program of Buxtehude/Chavez, Guilmant (who? more of that later), and Sir Edward Elgar (familiar, yes; stuffy, no). The Orchestra did something a little unusual this past weekend, by presenting the same program at three different times (the rule), but switching organists and the middle composition so each program offered a different piece (the exception). Why hadn’t I thought of that!
We matinee-goers lucked out with the Symphony #1 by 19th century French master, Alexandre Guilmant, who apparently was the chat’s meow in his day, but largely neglected now (this work sadly overshadowed by Saint-Saens’ grand Organ Symphony). Quelle tragédie! This was a big, lush, plush, emotional, intelligent work, all three movements of it, with lots of spectacular organ fireworks. Jacobs, who has a very amiable smile and physical presence, performed spectacularly, teasing out tender phrases, or stomping out those rich deep undertones as his feet, in those cute little Cuban heels organists wear, flew across the pedalboard. Seriously, pipe organists should rule the world, there is no doubt about it.
Jacobs’ encore, Bach’s C Major fugue BWV 564.3, whipped up the crowd to organistic-orgiastic fervor (ok, it was a matinee, I know; there were lots of seniors, but not to be underestimated!). But all this—-Guilmant, Bach—-was preceded by another gem I for one did not know: the Carlos Chávez orchestration of a chaconne by Bach’s predecessor and sort-of contemporary, Dieterich Buxtehude. Yes, you read that correctly: Carlos Chávez, the dean of 20th century Mexican composers! What a huge sound this orchestra can make, and Yannick really draws out the lyricism without sacrificing the power.
The orchestration was richly textured, with some brilliant trumpet work. Very nice, let’s hear it more often. After the break, a chestnut of sorts: Elgar’s Enigma Variations. But even this was fresh and snappy under Yannick’s touch. Though I had enough of the main theme by the 14th section, in between Movement I and XIV, oh, what loveliness. Many fine solo tidbits in this work, with special note to the Orchestra’s principal tympanist Don S. Liuzzi.
It was the November 7th matinee with the Philadelphia Orchestra, some of the finest instrumentalists in the nation, performing an exciting program of Buxtehude/Chavez, Guilmant (who? more of that later), and Sir Edward Elgar (familiar, yes; stuffy, no). The Orchestra did something a little unusual this past weekend, by presenting the same program at three different times (the rule), but switching organists and the middle composition so each program offered a different piece (the exception). Why hadn’t I thought of that!
We matinee-goers lucked out with the Symphony #1 by 19th century French master, Alexandre Guilmant, who apparently was the chat’s meow in his day, but largely neglected now (this work sadly overshadowed by Saint-Saens’ grand Organ Symphony). Quelle tragédie! This was a big, lush, plush, emotional, intelligent work, all three movements of it, with lots of spectacular organ fireworks. Jacobs, who has a very amiable smile and physical presence, performed spectacularly, teasing out tender phrases, or stomping out those rich deep undertones as his feet, in those cute little Cuban heels organists wear, flew across the pedalboard. Seriously, pipe organists should rule the world, there is no doubt about it.
Jacobs’ encore, Bach’s C Major fugue BWV 564.3, whipped up the crowd to organistic-orgiastic fervor (ok, it was a matinee, I know; there were lots of seniors, but not to be underestimated!). But all this—-Guilmant, Bach—-was preceded by another gem I for one did not know: the Carlos Chávez orchestration of a chaconne by Bach’s predecessor and sort-of contemporary, Dieterich Buxtehude. Yes, you read that correctly: Carlos Chávez, the dean of 20th century Mexican composers! What a huge sound this orchestra can make, and Yannick really draws out the lyricism without sacrificing the power.
The orchestration was richly textured, with some brilliant trumpet work. Very nice, let’s hear it more often. After the break, a chestnut of sorts: Elgar’s Enigma Variations. But even this was fresh and snappy under Yannick’s touch. Though I had enough of the main theme by the 14th section, in between Movement I and XIV, oh, what loveliness. Many fine solo tidbits in this work, with special note to the Orchestra’s principal tympanist Don S. Liuzzi.
Emanuel Ax Enthralls, Yannick & Phil Orch in Top Form March 6, 2015
The day after what may have been winter’s worst storm, the Kimmel Center rocked with high spirits March 6 as Emanuel Ax performed in a stunning Philadelphia Orchestra program.
Ax, one of America’s finest classical pianists, presented a compelling Beethoven’s Third Piano Concerto, the only one of the five in the moody minor mode. Yannick Nézet-Séguin, in top form, led the full orchestra in the powerhouse concerto, full of Beethoven’s riveting Middle Period bombastics, but also infused with a lyricism and yearning seldom heard in music before his time.
Ax’s robust performance married perfectly with the new Philadelphia sound, with a richness of tone, a firm attack, and a melting delicacy when called upon in the second movement. In the third and final movement, I noticed that Ax, who looked a bit like Roger Ebert in the peak of his health and waggishness, was so involved in the music in between his solo parts that he seemed to be co-conducting with Yannick. There was a big, sincere smile on his face as he relished each enthusiastic phrase teased out of the orchestra by its young, persuasive leader.
Perhaps Yannick was even more buoyant than usual during the matinee as he had just received a 40th birthday cake on stage as the orchestra played “Happy Birthday,” sung-along by the near-capacity audience. Lots of fun, and I saw helpers in the lobby wearing “Yannick 40” athletic shirts, a fun touch for those of us happy to see the “stodgy” removed from the local classical music scene.
The Beethoven came after what may have been the most thrilling performance of a Haydn symphony I’ve ever heard. It was the Oxford Symphony, and again, there was no tip of the hat to original instruments and small-scale performance theory here: the full orchestra ripped into Haydn, and Haydn reciprocated splendidly. This is Haydn’s 92nd symphony, full of imagination, vitality, and surprises that astonish and delight. Haydn composed this perfectly balanced, almost edgy symphony in 1789 when he was 57 (in contrast, Beethoven died at the age of 56). Clearly, there is a lot more to Haydn than we’ve been led to believe by sleepy performances.
The concert concluded with Ralph Vaughan Williams’ startling Fourth Symphony, quite a brash departure for the English composer famed for his pastoral diversions. The Fourth is on this season’s 40/40 list (inspired by Yannick’s 40th birthday), a list of works rarely or never performed locally. It’s a huge, challenging work, and one that invites repeated hearings.
All in all, a memorable program and, for Yannick Nézet-Séguin, one helluva birthday party. (Photo of setting up before concert.)
Ax, one of America’s finest classical pianists, presented a compelling Beethoven’s Third Piano Concerto, the only one of the five in the moody minor mode. Yannick Nézet-Séguin, in top form, led the full orchestra in the powerhouse concerto, full of Beethoven’s riveting Middle Period bombastics, but also infused with a lyricism and yearning seldom heard in music before his time.
Ax’s robust performance married perfectly with the new Philadelphia sound, with a richness of tone, a firm attack, and a melting delicacy when called upon in the second movement. In the third and final movement, I noticed that Ax, who looked a bit like Roger Ebert in the peak of his health and waggishness, was so involved in the music in between his solo parts that he seemed to be co-conducting with Yannick. There was a big, sincere smile on his face as he relished each enthusiastic phrase teased out of the orchestra by its young, persuasive leader.
Perhaps Yannick was even more buoyant than usual during the matinee as he had just received a 40th birthday cake on stage as the orchestra played “Happy Birthday,” sung-along by the near-capacity audience. Lots of fun, and I saw helpers in the lobby wearing “Yannick 40” athletic shirts, a fun touch for those of us happy to see the “stodgy” removed from the local classical music scene.
The Beethoven came after what may have been the most thrilling performance of a Haydn symphony I’ve ever heard. It was the Oxford Symphony, and again, there was no tip of the hat to original instruments and small-scale performance theory here: the full orchestra ripped into Haydn, and Haydn reciprocated splendidly. This is Haydn’s 92nd symphony, full of imagination, vitality, and surprises that astonish and delight. Haydn composed this perfectly balanced, almost edgy symphony in 1789 when he was 57 (in contrast, Beethoven died at the age of 56). Clearly, there is a lot more to Haydn than we’ve been led to believe by sleepy performances.
The concert concluded with Ralph Vaughan Williams’ startling Fourth Symphony, quite a brash departure for the English composer famed for his pastoral diversions. The Fourth is on this season’s 40/40 list (inspired by Yannick’s 40th birthday), a list of works rarely or never performed locally. It’s a huge, challenging work, and one that invites repeated hearings.
All in all, a memorable program and, for Yannick Nézet-Séguin, one helluva birthday party. (Photo of setting up before concert.)
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