Concert Review: The Empty Podium

The Vienna Philharmonic plays Sibelius at Carnegie Hall.
by Paul Pelkonen.

The Vienna Philharmonic at a concert in Berkeley, California in 2011.
Photo by Terry Linke © University of California at Berkeley.

The Vienna Philharmonic played the first of three New York concerts on Friday night. The venerable orchestra is currently touring with conductor Lorin Maazel, who, at 82, is celebrating a 50-year association with the orchestra that started with a performance of Beethoven's Fidelio in 1962.

Friday's program was one of Mr. Maazel's specialties: three symphonies by Jean Sibelius. Mr. Maazel has been conducting the symphonies of Finland's national composer for over half a century. He's also recorded the cycle twice: once with the Vienna forces and again with the Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra. So it was somewhat surprising that these interpretations were missing the qualities of fire and emotion that are needed in the performance of these great works.

The program went chronologically backward, starting with the Seventh Symphony. This was the last of the composer's completed symphonies (an Eighth may have existed, but was probably destroyed), a condensedwork that packs all the development and ideas of four movements into a concise twenty minutes. Although the Vienna players brought warm string tone, searching woodwinds and their trademark horn sound to its pages, the Seventh sounded curiously workmanlike and uninspired.

The same problems plagued the first two movements of the Fifth: gorgeous playing that suffered from uninspiring leadership. This was particularly apparent in the central Andante. Matters improved considerably in the finale, driven by a bell-like, tolling figure in the horns that alternates with a sprightly woodwind melody. The best part: an eloquent, emotional statement in the cellos that was played with sentiment and warmth.

The second half of the concert featured the First Symphony, one of Sibelius' longest and most challenging pieces. It opens with a long clarinet cadenza, where the conductor stands with his arms down, mute before bringing in the whole orchestra. Mr. Maazel stood there, at rest, waiting for the solo to wind to its end. 

Then, his arms lifted. The white baton came up. And then the weird thing happened: the orchestra made its entry, but their timing had little to do with Mr. Maazel's. The principals of the four main string sections (first and second violins, violas and cellos), were working off each other, making eye contact and giving silent cues as they played through the piece. Nobody was looking at the conductor.

The phenomenon extended to other sections of the orchestra. Eyes fixed on their sheet music, the tuxedoed Vienna players were playing on orchestral auto-pilot, making use of their experience and ability to get through the four movements of the symphony. And for the most part, this trick (if it was one) worked.  . The orchestra's sound quality was gorgeous, worthy of their stellar reputation and world-wide fame. But throughout the First Symphony, it felt like the concert was being led from the first chairs, and not by Mr. Maazel.

Contact the author: E-mail Superconductor editor Paul Pelkonen.

Concert Review: Thoroughly Modern Ludwig

Week One of The Modern Beethoven with David Zinman.
by Paul Pelkonen.

Man in black: David Zinman conducts the New York Philharmonic.
Photo by Chris Lee © The New York Philharmonic.

On Friday afternoon, Bronx native David Zinman led the New York Philharmonic in a program pairing two Beethoven Symphonies (the Second and the Seventh) with a piece by Igor Stravinsky. This was the second concert of the first week of The Modern Beethoven, the Philharmonic's festival offering this spring.

Mr. Zinman (currently the Music Director of the Tonhalle Orchester Zürich) is a champion of the new, critical edition of Beethoven symphonies, made by Jonathan Del Mar in the 1990s. As a conductor, his principal achievement is one of lucidity. Minor sonic details suddenly rise to the surface with thrilling effect. The Philharmonic sounded fresh and revitalized on Friday afternoon, playing with a blend of rough energy and refined grace.

Starting this three-week festival with the Second Symphony--the least played and least loved of the cycle, is something of a statement of intent. Under his baton, this work's debts to Mozart were apparent. (The opening notes recall the beginning of Die Zauberflöte.) The Allegretto bustled with an energy that recalled Rossini, moving ahead with playfulness and determination.

That operatic grace continued in the Larghetto, which looked forward and back in time: to the Romantic excesses of the 19th century and the courtly music-for-hire that defined the 18th. This is the sound of Beethoven planning the revolution that he launched with the Eroica in 1805. 

Each week of The Modern Beethoven pairs two symphonies with a 20th century work. The idea is to show the correlations that exist between these famous works and lesser-known concerti from the past 100 years. Here, it was the  Capriccio for Piano and Orchestra by Igor Stravinsky, a 15-minute piece in the Russian composer's neo-classical style. Peter Serkin was the featured soloist.

Stravinsky had a love for stripping and altering the familiar forms of so-called "classical" music. The Capriccio is effectively a second piano concerto. Its three tightly connected movements, spanning just 16 minutes. Mr. Serkin played the intimidating solo part with  steely concentration and bright power, creating rapid-fire climaxes from the keyboard. Mr. Zinman provided expert accompaniment, with Stravinsky's orchestral parts benefitting from his energetic leadership.

By using a somewhat enlarged orchestra for the Seventh, Mr. Zinman created a heavier sound from his players without ever sounding heavy-footed. The work's whirling dance movements sparkled with the energy of life itself, while the famous dragging march (heard, famously in the 2010 film The King's Speech) was taken at speed: determined, but not rushed. 

Mr. Zinman brought out the joyful energy of the last two dance movements, driving his orchestra into a Dionysian whirlwind of energy. The second violins and low winds were heard with great clarity, leaping into the fray alongside the other sections as the finale boiled to its climax. This was Beethoven as he is imagined by the Romantics, with rough energy and genteel refinement.

Recordings Review: Beethoven Deluxe

Christian Thielemann records the Nine Symphonies.

by Paul Pelkonen.

Conductor Christian Thielemann, leading the Vienna Philharmonic in the Große Saal.
Image © 2011 The Vienna Philharmonic/Sony Classical

Making recordings of all nine Beethoven symphonies is a rite of passage for any conductor. For  Christian Thielemann, the Berlin native who started as a repiteteur for Herbert von Karajan, making a new cycle of the nine with the Vienna Philharmonic is a crucial achievement. This set, newly released on Sony Classical, cements his place in the history of that great orchestra, and pays homage to the great conductors of the golden age of stereo.

This cycle was made between 2008 and 2010, in front of an audience in the Großer Saal of the Musikverein, the Philharmonic's home base. Although the Vienna players use brass and wind instruments that were designed in the 19th century, these performances have little to do with the period-instrument movement. Mr. Thielemann chooses a weighty, Romantic approach to these works that respects Beethoven's texts but slows down in the adagios and the Eroica funeral march to an almost static crawl. This is old-school, heavyweight Beethoven.

This is actually the second release for these performances, which came out in a series of Blu-Ray and DVD documentaries in 2011. Mr. Thielemann takes a stern approach to the First and Second works, giving the latter symphony a brusque, earthy appeal. The Eroica is stretched to the limit. Mr. Thielemann chooses to make certain passages Allargando, slowing down the orchestra. The funeral march, almost sedentary, is  problematic. The last two movements are at normal tempos, with rich playing from the Viennese in the final theme and variations.

Concert Review: The Last Pictures Show

Stucky, Berlioz and Mussorgsky at the New York Philharmonic.
by Paul Pelkonen.

The Hut of Baba Yaga: Clock designed by Vladimir Hartmann
for the original art show that inspired Pictures at an Exhibition.

Normally, a Superconductor review of a New York Philharmonic concert is based on the first or second nights of a run of concerts. Due to scheduling issues (chiefly caused by the presence of the Berlin Philharmonic at Carnegie Hall, Tuesday night presented the rare opportunity to review the last of a set of subscription concerts.

This program, curated by Alan Gilbert, brought together works that are preoccupied primarily with visual imagery. Son et Lumiere by Steven Stucky evokes the grand sound-and-light displays that entertain visitors to the Egyptian pyramids. Berlioz' Nuits d'Eté evoke the richness of "Summer Nights." And Mussorgsky's Pictures at an Exhibition (with orchestration by Maurice Ravel) chronicles a visit to an art exhibition by the composer's friend Vladimir Hartmann.

The concert opened with a new work from composer and Cornell professor Stephen Stucky. Son et lumiere is written in Mr. Stucky's ne-minimalist style. Sharp stabs of brass interact with complex percussion rhythms. At first harsh and unwelcoming, the sound-world blossoms into brief aural pleasure in the very last pages.

Although she is known for cross-dressing turns in Le Nozze di Figaro, Le Comte Ory and Ariadne Auf Naxos, mezzo-soprano Joyce DiDonato was a powerful and decidedly feminine presence in Berlioz' six-song cycle Nuits d'Eté.. This set--one of the few works that Berlioz wrote for piano and voice, were presented here in the luxurious orchestration of 1856, which seems to drip with nostalgia and old-world decadence.

Flowers and water imagery are central to Berlioz' imagery. Ms. DiDonato brightened these already rich tonal colors with her quicksilver mezzo--bringing out the deep emotions that are written into each of these songs and singing with a lyrical flow that was glorious for sounding entirely natural. Mr. Gilbert's leadership brightened these colors further, conveying the rich complexity of Berlioz' orchestration.

Pictures at an Exhibition remains a Philharmonic war-horse. Alan Gilbert brought some new colors to this famous gallery visit, with some jarring tempo ideas to liven up Gnomus,and a moody, evocative The Old Castle featured evocative bassoon playing and the famous saxophone solo. A thunderous Bydlo set the table for the last pictures on the program, with some rock-solid tuba playing from Alan Baer.

The Catacombs were appropriately mysterious. The Hut of Baba Yaga shuddered and screamed. The Great Gate of Kiev, dominated by the percussion and brass, was an uplifting portrayal, working the original Promenade theme back into the orchestration and letting the concert end on a mighty chord.
Contact the author: E-mail Superconductor editor Paul Pelkonen.