Forbes Classical CD Of The Week: The Evanescent Elegance Of Paul Lewis' Pictures At An Exhibition

...For one reason or another, I never quite intuitively responded to his recordings – or in the rare caught live performance his playing – as I thought I would and should: “However tenuous the idea is, one expects a sense of occasion, something ‘special’… something more than a performance that admittedly impresse[s] with unfussy, very fluent playing… but also threw in two parts out of three autopilot.” Gradually my expectations shrunk back to size, to the point where I felt ambivalent at popping a new Lewis recording into the player. Perhaps that’s why it took me so long to get to his 2015 release of Musorgsky’s [sic] Pictures at an Exhibition...

-> Classical CD Of The Week: The Evanescent Elegance Of Paul Lewis' Pictures At An Exhibition

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#morninglistening: Musorgksy / Bare Mountain Pictures & Gergiev

#morninglistening #mussorgsky @mariinskyen @ValeryGergiev... http://t.co/e9URrPHDBp pic.twitter.com/iBKUjArwyy

— Jens F. Laurson (@ClassicalCritic) January 21, 2015

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#morninglistening: Conrad Tao, Pictures

#morninglistening to #Takemitsu #Carter #mussorgsky etc. w/@conradtao on @warnerclassics … http://t.co/KeSAHrNaw0 pic.twitter.com/2ySF1zx80m

— Jens F. Laurson (@ClassicalCritic) October 1, 2015

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Kavakos on the Podium and Beside It

Sibelius, Pelléas et Mélisande (original version), Lahti Symphony Orchestra, O. Vänskä (BIS, 1999)

Charles T. Downey, Kavakos ends two-week NSO residency by taking up the baton (Washington Post, May 15)

Leonidas Kavakos came to the end of a two-week residency with the National Symphony Orchestra by showing a third facet of his musical personality. After shining as a soloist in Sibelius’s violin concerto last week, he gave what was reportedly an excellent solo recital earlier this week with Christoph Eschenbach at the piano. As heard last night in the Kennedy Center Concert Hall, Kavakos concluded by taking the podium for his conducting debut with the orchestra.

Most conductors begin their musical lives playing an instrument, switching later to conducting... [Continue reading]

National Symphony Orchestra
With Leonidas Kavakos, violinist and conductor
Kennedy Center Concert Hall

PREVIOUSLY:
Robert Battey, Kavakos and Eschenbach combine to put on an inspired recital (Washington Post, May 13)

Charles T. Downey, Second Opinion: Eschenbach's Mahler 5 (Ionarts, May 9)

---, A cohesive-sounding conductorless New Century Chamber Orchestra at Strathmore (Washington Post, February 1, 2013)

---, Café Zimmermann (Ionarts, November 5, 2007)

Peter Oundjian in Technicolor

Musorgsky, Pictures at an Exhibition, Toronto Symphony Orchestra, P. Oundjian (TSO, 2008)

Charles T. Downey, Guest conductor sets a fast tempo for Baltimore Symphony Orchestra (Washington Post, April 20)

It can be a fine line between energetic enthusiasm and manic excess, especially with the sonic resources of the modern orchestra brought to bear. In his guest appearance with the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra on Saturday evening in the Music Center at Strathmore, conductor Peter Oundjian seemed to aim for the former but sometimes ended up with the latter.

Starting with a Haydn symphony, No. 96 in D (“Miracle”), instead of an overture was an idea that should be encouraged... [Continue reading]

Baltimore Symphony Orchestra
With Peter Oundjian (conductor) and Katherine Needleman (oboe)
Music Center at Strathmore

SEE ALSO:
Tim Smith, BSO produces colorful 'Pictures' with Peter Oundjian (Baltimore Sun, April 18)

Charles T. Downey, Oundjian with the BSO (Ionarts, May 25, 2012)

New York City Ballet, New and Newer

Pictures at an Exhibition, choreography by Alexei Ratmansky, New York City Ballet
The New York City Ballet is back at the Kennedy Center Opera House, in alternating programs this week featuring the giant of its past, George Balanchine, and its current choreographers. When you are dealing with new works of any kind, some will hit and some will miss, which was exactly the feeling experienced at the end of the selection billed as "21st-Century Choreographers" on Wednesday evening. It was a bit of a marathon, with four works adding up to almost three hours, and some of the works tried one's patience to the extreme.

The program opened with Symphonic Dances, by the company's current ballet master-in-chief, Peter Martins. Actually premiered in 1994, the work is set to Rachmaninoff's superb score of that name, op. 45, the composer's final work and a notable exception to my general aversion to Rachmaninoff's instrumental music. The Martins choreography is visually pleasing, but little about it stood out as remarkable over the course of forty minutes: without a story, the elegant vocabulary wears thin too quickly. In the solo female role, Teresa Reichlen, who hails from Fairfax County, was a wispy and altogether lovely presence, all long legs and lightness. The general appeal of the choreography was not helped by the mediocrity of the orchestral performance, here given by the company's own orchestra under interim music director Andrews Sill. The orchestra has been through a bit of a rocky period in the last few years, which the new tenure of conductor Andrew Litton, a Washington favorite with the National Symphony Orchestra, will hopefully help to stabilize, starting next season.

The undisputed high point of the evening was the delightful new choreography to Musorgsky's Pictures at an Exhibition, created last year by Alexei Ratmansky. The setting of an art museum is suggested by projections (designed by Wendell K. Harrington), based on Wassily Kandinsky's Color Study: Squares with Concentric Circles, dating from 1913, abstract shapes in bright colors that are reflected in movement by the dancers' costumes (designed by Adeline Andre). Although the music runs almost as long as the Rachmaninoff, played capably here in Musorgsky's original piano version by Cameron Grant, Ratmansky's choreography is so varied, brimming with originality, that it never tired. Sterling Hyltin was raised by the strong Tyler Angle in soaring leaps in "The Old Castle" movement, and in a striking reversal, women playfully incarnated the heavy-footed oxen in "Bydlo" and men the antic birds in the "Ballet of the Unhatched Chicks." The "Catacomb" movement, for the entire cast, was bathed in shadows of red light.

Other Reviews: Sarah Kaufman, New York City Ballet’s life-affirming new works boost the spirit (Washington Post, April 10) ---, New York City Ballet sparkles and blurs in opening program (Washington Post, April 9) Alastair Macaulay, With Each Star Turn, a Feeling of a Collective Force Begins to Brew (New York Times, January 21) ---, The Art Gallery as Spinning Montage (New York Times, October 3, 2014) ---, Celebrating Old Times With New: A Premiere (New York Times, May 9, 2014) New York City Ballet on Ionarts: 2014 | 2013

Tiler Peck and Craig Hall made a beautiful pairing in Christopher Wheeldon's somewhat limited, repetitive This Bitter Earth, although it would have been just as visually pretty if it had been performed in silence, so little did it seem to have to do with the music, a recording from the soundtrack for Shutter Island. Both music and choreography felt endless in their over-repetition in Everywhere We Go, Justin Peck's abstract ballet to a suite of music by Sufjan Stevens (orchestrated by Michael P. Atkinson). Both choreographer and composer relied heavily on the copy-paste method, with some whole sections of the choreography simply repeated toward the end, not to mention a number of dancers who slipped and fell, for whatever reason.

The company's second program, seen on Thursday night but not for review, was worthwhile just to have a look at Balanchine's choreography for Agon, which was crucial in my making sense of Schoenberg's twelve-tone score for this work. Maria Kowroski was brilliant, almost superhuman, in the outrageous contortions of the Pas de Deux in the ballet's second part. Balanchine's vivacious choreography to Bizet's Symphony in C, last seen from American Ballet Theater in 2013, was also outstanding, especially the elegant extensions of Sara Mearns in the slow movement's pas de deux.

These programs are repeated through April 12, in the Kennedy Center Opera House.

Best Recordings of 2014 (#1)

Time for a review of classical CDs that were outstanding in 2014 (published in whole on Forbes.com). My lists for the previous years: 2013, 2012, 2011, (2011 – “Almost”), 2010, (2010 – “Almost”), 2009, (2009 – “Almost”), 2008, (2008 - "Almost") 2007, 2006, 2005, 2004.

# 1 - New Release

Maurice Ravel / Modest Musorgsky, Ma Mère L’Oye / Pictures at an Exhibition, Anima Eterna Brugge, Jos van Immerseel (conductor), Zig Zag Territories 343

M.Ravel / M.Musorgsky, Ma Mère L’Oye / Pictures at an Exhibition, J.v.Immerseel / Anima Eterna Brugge Zig Zag Territories

Goose-Wonder, Picture-Revelation

Jos van Immerseel and his period performance band Anima Eterna Brugge (on Twitter) have never confined themselves to a specific period: Renaissance, baroque, classical and all kinds of romantic strands can be found in their concerts and discography. Their reputation as cobweb-annihilators is well deserved. Here they turn their attention to the romantic 20^th century with Ravel and Musorgsky. And how! The bird calls of violin and flute in Ravel’s Ma Mère L’Oye are so life-like, so outstanding that, sitting outside a Salzburg Café on first listening, I looked about me in astonishment before realizing the feathery friend’s chirp came out of my headphones.

Ravel’s instrumentation, fantastical and imaginative, comes to the fore like I have rarely heard on record, both here and in the accompanying Pictures at an Exhibition, which are light and colorful in a hitherto-unheard-of way and all the more smashing for it, when it counts. The woodwind work throughout is astounding; the delicacy and transparency of brass and strings overwhelming. The CD is worth, perhaps even necessary, to hear with quality equipment to let the recording work to this breathtaking effect. This Mother Goose is a wonder, the Pictures, now my co-favorite Pictures alongside the completely different Celibidache (Warner [on Twitter]), a revelation.

# 1 – Reissue

Maria Callas Remastered, Maria Callas, various artists, Warner Classics 633991

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Борис Годунов

M.Musorgsky, Boris Godunov (1869 & Rimsky Korsakov editions), V.Gergiev, Kirov, Soloists Philips M.Musorgsky, Boris Godunov (1872 'R.K.' Edition), V.Gergiev, Kirov, Soloists Decca

Calixto Bieito must be getting old: His new production at the Bavarian State Opera ofModest Musorgsky’s Boris Godunov (original version in four acts and seven scenes) doesn’t feature full frontal nudity. This third performance since the February 13^th premiere didn’t even draw a single Boo! At least it holds plenty violence in store. In the wake of False Dmitri (Dmitri the Pretender a.k.a. novice Grigory) bodies pile up, shot at point blank range and strangled with a pillow case. Not all of this can be found in the libretto, but even with Bieito’s best efforts, the opera version still remains considerably less violent than the Russian original, the “Time of Troubles.”

all the efforts of Bieito notwithstanding, the operatic version still remains considerably less violent than the reality of that part—the “Time of Troubles”—in Russian history.

It has been a while since I last saw a Boris: It was 2005, when Valery Gergiev conducted the Mariinsky Orchestra at the Kennedy Center; the staging (also of the unedited 1869 version) was a spruced-up traveling show—all light and foldable, a bit conventional, yet exquisite. Bieito and the State Opera lavished their considerably greater and more expensive attention on the staging, yet achieved little more.

Boris Godunov tells the story of the rise and fall of the third Russian Tsar in seven, not particularly connected pictures. It might be argued whether or not it is a duty of a production to connect that which isn’t; it might equally be argued whether Bieito doesn’t succeed in doing so, or whether he didn’t try. He badly flounders through the first act, with a tiresome “oppressed crowd scene”. Bieito at his best is an ingenious director, but, alas, hampered by his do-gooder ignorance about economics and his anarchic hyper-sensitivity to oppression by the state and clichéd ideas of capital. (Granted, he’s not the only econ-ignoramus in the opera world: Whenever manacing consumerism, evil globalization, and threatening free markets are hoisted onto the stage, I’m reminded of Mitchell & Webb’s “Lazy Writers’ Emergency Medical Treatment”.) Instead of delivering a first scene with an ultimately felt plea for Boris to become Tsar (interrupted by blips of violent ‘peace-keeping’ against mock-trouble-makers), we get ham-handed people-oppression in riot gear, with clumsy overtones of Pussy Riot, anti-austerity messages, and so erratic and pointless in its mildly sadistic aggression that it’s no longer threatening, but ludicrous.

The good news is that it gets only better from thereon. Rebecca Ringst built Bieito a ‘Machine’ for Boris which takes over from the second picture onward. It looks something like a cross of a spice harvester on Dune with a stranded barge, and it opens its many mouths of rough metal exterior to a multi-room palace on the inside. A totalitarian Kinder Egg, if you will. On the inside: Alexander Tsymbalyuk’s young and strapping Boris (in terrific, clear and resonant voice) who wonders and wanders, and instructs his little Fyodor. The latter is sung by Yulia Sokolik (an adult female), and perfectly congruously performed as a little girl. (Her inclusion as a woman added at least another female role to the two lady-cameos of this version. (Xenia, Boris’ daughter, and her nurse are the otherwise sole representatives of their gender.) Bieito’s conspiracy scene of the boyars is intimate and chilling, with the cunning Prince Shuysky plotting away like Wallace Shawn as Vizzini, in Gerhard Siegel fine tenor.

The violence and the dark set, down to Dmitri’s final murder spree, suit the bleak original version—both musically and dramatically speaking. But perhaps too well: The whole affair, without intermission, and with Kent Nagano’s often brittle touches, end up feeling more slow-going and dreary than need be. Nagano wasn’t all hardened cool, though: The softer his Bavarian State Orchestra played, the more sensitive and nuanced it got, emoting gentle empathy. (Only the horns had off night with plenty cracks.)

Vladimir Matorin skillfully indulged in the popular, populist role of Varlaam, the inebriated monk-cum-vagabond. The Innkeeper (Okka von der Damerau), now a beggarly street food vendor, gets happily molested and her little girl abused. It’s hardly a surprise when she shoots the border guards to facilitate Grigoriy/Dmitri’s escape. Anatoly Kotscherga, with soulful timbre and artless dignity, was a stand-out Pimen. Kevin Conners, the State Opera’s man for everything, did himself proud as Yuródivïy (the Holy Fool) who ends up with a bullet in the cranium, courtesy of a manipulated little girl that evidently broke bad.

Pictures above and below courtesy Bavarian State Opera, © Wilfried Hösl

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Kožená, Bestiary of the Exotic

Charles T. Downey, Magdalena Kozena at Shriver Hall
Washington Post, February 19, 2013

Love and Longing (Ravel, Dvořák, Mahler), M. Kožená, Berlin Philharmonic, S. Rattle (2012)

The things that make a good song recital happen can be as elusive as alchemy. Part of it is the choice of songs, part is the singer’s ability to narrate in music as if simply reciting poetry, and part is the pianist’s ability to set the scene. All three of these elements came together in the recital by Magdalena Kozena on Sunday at Shriver Hall, the Czech mezzo-soprano’s first in the area since 2009.

By most vocal standards, Kozena’s voice is not extraordinary; it has a pretty but relatively small tone that tends to sound forced at extremes of dynamic and range. Her wide-eyed storytelling was key to bringing off this unusual program of rarely heard song sets, in which she conveyed the rambling thoughts of children (Mussorgsky’s “The Nursery”), the obsessions of birds and insects (Ravel’s “Histoires Naturelles”), and the shrieks and quirks of Slovakian folk song (Bartok’s “Village Scenes”). Kozena could float these vocal lines — most straightforwardly in Rachmaninoff’s six Op. 38 songs — with ease and confidence, with virtuoso pianist Yefim Bronfman providing the color at the keyboard.

[Continue reading]

Maazel Cracks the Whip with NSO

Charles T. Downey, Music review: Lorin Maazel conducts NSO
Washington Post, October 29, 2011

Rachmaninoff, Piano Concertos 1/4, S. Trpčeski, Royal Liverpool Philharmonic, V. Petrenko

Lorin Maazel, one of the world’s most accomplished and most senior conductors, has entered a glowing, autumnal phase in his career. In rather active semi-retirement since stepping down two years ago from a sometimes rocky tenure at the New York Philharmonic, Maazel has been giving performances characterized by warm, lovingly crafted mentorship — not descriptions one could always apply to this most imperious of leaders. In Maazel’s last appearance with the National Symphony Orchestra, in 2009, he galvanized the musicians — who were then at the end of a rudderless interregnum period before the advent of current music director Christoph Eschenbach.

Maazel did it again Friday night at the Kennedy Center, this time launching the NSO into a tight, muscled rendition of Berlioz’s overture to “Benvenuto Cellini,” imparting heroic fire to the music given to Berlioz’s violent, swashbuckling hero — the sculptor who speaks truth to power as he fights dramatic intrigues behind a papal commission for a bronze statue of Perseus.

The NSO has not played this overture since 1993, under the baton of then-guest conductor Leonard Slatkin. One did not expect its challenges to come back naturally to the musicians, but Maazel led with such a firm beat, so confident about the many transitions of tempo, that the piece fell easily into place. [Continue reading]

SEE ALSO:
Emily Cary, Trpceski debuts with Maazel and NSO (Washington Examiner, October 26)

Zachary Woolfe, Maazel, a Baton From the Past, Returns for a Visit to the Philharmonic (New York Times, October 21)

NSO Succeeds North by Northeast

Many thanks to Robert R. Reilly for this review from the NSO.

J.Sibelius, Violin Concerto et al, Kremer / Muti / Philharmonia O. EMI C.Nielsen, Symphony No.5 et al., R.Kubelik / Danish RSO EMI

The National Symphony Orchestra under the direction of Finnish conductor John Storgårds covered itself in glory last Sunday, when it performed a program of Mussorgsky, Sibelius, Liadov, and Nielsen. Generally positive reviews of the Thursday-performance (see ionarts review) spoke of occasionally ragged playing, particularly in the Mussorgsky, but such was not the case at the Kennedy Center on Sunday afternoon. Whatever problems there may have been had been ironed out by Storgårds and players.

Mussorgsky’s Night on Bald Mountain was given a rhythmically sharp, full-bodied, and clearly delineated performance. Rimsky-Korsakov may have found Mussorgsky’s orchestration ragged, but the NSO's playing of Mussorgsky’s original version certainly wasn’t. Storgårds kept a tight grip in the piece and the NSO stayed with him for the entire, wild ride.

The Sibelius Violin Concerto featured soloist Gidon Kremer who produced a nicely nuanced, genially expressive, somewhat underpowered reading; not exactly meditative, but not driven either, and certainly not pyrotechnical. Sibelius—cliché or not—can do with a fair amount of detachment, but the concerto in particular shouldn’t be entirely devoid of fire. There was warmth here, but no heat. Perhaps my ears are still prejudiced from hearing Nikolaj Znaider in London three years ago, where he gave a charged and stirring performance with the LSO under Colin Davis. Incidentally, the powerfully accompanying NSO was not to blame; it was Kremer who did not fully match the band.

After these two high-powered pieces, Storgårds showed how well he and the NSO could handle subtlety. Playing with great finesse and refinement, they infused Liadov’s Enchanted Lake, a delicious piece of Russian impressionism, with magic and made it glitter. The Carl Nielsen's Fifth Symphony was the highlight of the afternoon. Storgårds and the NSO built the statement of the main theme in the first movement, before the main timpani attack, in a magnificent manner. The snare drum entered a bit too forcefully, though that may have been Storgårds’ interpretive choice, not an errant percussionist’s fault. Storgårds went on to capture the visionary essence of this music by building the climax toward the end of the first movement in a most persuasive manner. In media res, the second movement, starts in the center of a maelstrom—perfectly portrayed by the NSO’s exciting playing. Storgårds again demonstrated his superb ability at musical architecture with his handling of the giant fugue. There was detail in abundance without ever losing the long line. If it is impossible to single out one section of the NSO, then that’s only because they all deserve singling out; strings, winds, brass, and percussion performed exemplarily.

This was the debut performance of John Storgårds (chief conductor of the Helsinki Philharmonic Orchestra) with the National Symphony Orchestra and, based on musical evidence alone, it should not be his last. I, for one, would love to hear what he does with the Nielsen Fourth Symphony.

NSO Plays More Nielsen

John Storgårds, the Chief Conductor of the Helsinki Philharmonic, made his debut at the podium of the National Symphony Orchestra on Thursday night, with an absorbing program of descriptive music set in northern climes. Suggestions by some to swap parts of the program with pieces planned for later in the month, to make more homogeneous nationalistic programs, would have destroyed the opportunity to compare Scandinavian and Russian composers, and particularly their orchestration, in varying degrees of crudeness and refinement. Storgårds brought incisive ideas and a driven, impelling beat to a program that, with the exception of yet another performance of Sibelius's violin concerto, combined pieces not heard from the NSO in a decade or so. Hopefully, with some more time to adjust to some brisk tempo choices by Storgårds, the NSO will sound more polished and united in the remaining performances this weekend.

Storgårds opened each half with a coloristic tone poem, beginning with Musorgsky's Night on Bald Mountain, not the more refined arrangement by Rimsky-Korsakov, familiar from countless Halloween concerts, but the composer's original orchestration -- last played by the NSO under Osmo Vänskä in 2002. Musorgsky had nothing like Rimsky's skills as an orchestrator, but this version is more barbaric, folksy, and rustic (Rimsky and others made the work so cinematic), and Storgårds lashed the piece forward, in spite of struggles in the violins with the masses of notes (and for not always great effect, because of the weakness of the orchestration). Anatoly Lyadov's The Enchanted Lake, op. 62, had not been heard from the NSO since the 1990s: Storgårds led the NSO in a diaphanous performance, giving a sort of Debussy-esque transparency to the work's lush Wagnerian harmonies. David Hardy's cello solos warmed the opening sections, but the work was allowed to seethe gently, when it did stir, providing lots of watercolor washes of pale color.

Gidon Kremer, last heard in this area with the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra in 2005 (and not with the NSO since 1982), gave an odd but still satisfying rendition of Sibelius's ever-present violin concerto. Known for his idiosyncratic interpretative style and outspoken views, Kremer is unlikely to give a performance that does not defy expectations. In spite of some minor technical shortcomings -- Kremer rather consciously used sheet music as he played, and barely scraped his way past some of the more demanding passages, especially the virtuosic codas of the outer movements -- there was much to admire in his Sibelius. Kremer gave a gypsy flavor to some of the themes, adding little slides and unusual tone color, and the sound of his low playing on the G string of his gorgeous and full-throated Amati violin, made in 1641, was vibrant and elemental, at times more like a viola (in a good way, of course). For the most part, Storgårds was sensitive to keeping the orchestral level out of the way of his soloist, allowing them to surge volcanically at one point in the second movement.

Other Reviews: Robert Battey, Storgårds at NSO: A mixed performance (Washington Post, October 7) Robert R. Reilly, NSO Succeeds North by Northeast (Ionarts, October 11)

One of the highlights of the last season from the NSO was a performance of Carl Nielsen's fourth symphony, led by Danish conductor Thomas Dausgaard. How fortunate then to hear, so soon after, an equally rare and equally inspiring performance of the Danish composer's fifth symphony -- Leonard Slatkin was the last to conduct it, in 1998. Where the "Inextinguishable" features a pair of dueling timpani players, the un-subtitled fifth symphony is driven by the martial beat of snare drums, one of which is heard from off stage. It is an austere work, its pulse animated by minimalistic ostinati: for example, the violas harp on a very Philip Glass-like minor third through much of the first movement, which passes briefly into the woodwinds, part of a cranking up of tension. The blast of the snare drum, which crashes into the movement more than once and with little subtlety, heralds a shift into a sardonic march, with the grotesque flavor of Shostakovich. The uneasiness abates only momentarily, amid avian swirling in the woodwinds, as the horns and trombones call to one another, echoing off cliff sides. Another anxious theme, all repeated notes like the chirping of a cricket, unsettles the conclusion of the first movement. Although the work is unfamiliar, the NSO players played with cohesion and precision, giving an almost Mahlerian surge of shining Romantic strings to the fugal passages of the transcendent second movement. After these performances of the fourth and fifth symphonies, one can only hope that the NSO follows through with a complete Nielsen symphony cycle in the coming seasons.

This concert will be repeated on Saturday night (October 8, 8 PM) and Sunday afternoon (October 9, 3 PM), in the Kennedy Center Concert Hall.

UPDATE:
Charles T. Downey, Concert Review: John Storgårds’s National Symphony Orchestra Debut (The Washingtonian, October 10)

Notes from the 2010 Salzburg Festival ( 13 )Mariss Jansons and the Concertgebouw in an All-Russian Program

Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra Amsterdam

Reviewable in six words: “Yeah, whatever…” • “Very interesting.” • “Holy Cow!!!”


Those are technical terms, of course, and they describe the Concertgebouw Orchestra’s guest appearance at the Salzburg Festival, where they performed Bela Bartók’s “Music for Strings, Percussion, and Celesta”, Modest Musorgksy’s “Songs and Dances of Death” (liberally orchestrated by Shostakovich), and Igor Stravinsky’s L’Oiseau de feu, his “Firebird”.


Get Lost In Color

I had plenty reason to suspect that the Firebird would be not just good, but great; in part because the orchestra’s abilities and the conductor’s strength play into the hands of a work that demands color, color, color, rather than rhythm, structure, precision. It shows on their recording (which made my “Best of 2008 List), where the Firebird far outshines perfectly wonderful “Rite of the Spring”. But even those high expectations where surpassed by hearing the orchestra respond to a visibly healthy Jansons enjoying himself, guiding the orchestra—as one player put it afterwards—as if he was holding a quill. The moto perpetuo double bass stomping of the opening and the brass emerged so softly, as if played far away. The strings’ cinematic, shimmering playing, detailed but not clinical or even ‘nouvelle cuisine’ style, was enchanting, stirring, lulling; just like it ought to be, given the sujet of the ballet. The work seems made for that band, with its wealth of shades and nuance all coming out… and even if the band masters the subtle haze (as opposed to the razor sharp precision of Rattle’s Berlin Philharmonic, for example) the shrieks and orchestral clashes were easily as harrowing here; the frenzy perfectly believable, the performers on the edge of their seats. The whole last scene of the Firebird was a celebration of organic beauty and the audience virtually erupted after the finale notes. The most enthusiastic applause—by far—that I’ve witnessed yet at any Festival concert this season, forced two encores (Solveig's Song from Peer Gynt and Dvořák's Slavic Dance op.72/7) from a beaming Jansons and his Concertgebouw Orchestra (with one of last year's ARD Prize Winners).


Graphic Bleak & Black

Modest Musorgsky’s Songs and Dances of Death are expectedly a grim affair and a rarely heard one. Surely a programming choice borne out of Mariss Jansons’ special passion for Russian repertoire in general and Shostakovich in particular. I say Shostakovich, not Musorgsky, because the theatrical, not just picturesque but downright graphic orchestrations leave the Songs and Dances more a cooperative effort than a mere orchestral ‘realization’. They’re not works most audiences will demand to hear every couple of seasons, but then that’s hardly what is looming on the programming-horizon. It’s rather a question of hearing them at all in concert. (On disc, they’re pretty well represented, actually.) Ferrucio Furlanetto lent his dark italiante bass—slightly vailed—to these pieces and benefited from the orchestra in supremely alert accompaniment mode, sounding ‘Russian’ at the wave of Mariss Jansons’ little finger. A happy surprise of the evening, if not a stunner.


When Beauty Doesn’t Cut It

Nice as it is to hear a great orchestra at home, in its familiar setting and acoustic, it’s often nice still to hear them when they are on tour in a place and hall with a great reputation like the Vienna Musikverein, the Amsterdam Concertgebouw, the Berlin Philharmonie or at the Großes Festspielhaus at the Salzburg Festival. The ghosts of past greats look down upon the players, and a (presumably) discerning, foreign audience at them from the orchestra seating. The players are out to impress, the sense of occasion is palpable. Those are the moments when orchestras can push themselves to “11”. All that wasn’t quite enough to make the Bartók compelling; the really tight rhythms that propel the Music for Strings, Percussion, and Celesta (if it is to be propelled at all; I find it’s a work as likely to go by me as to grab me) were lacking, the Concertgebouw sounding like a gorgeous, beautiful—but unfortunately slightly dull—knife. But I doubt anyone who felt similarly (the eager-early-clapper and Bravo-yeller at least seemed to have loved it, not waiting for the last note even to be fully played) still thought much about Bartók after a Firebird of a lifetime.





Pictures courtesy Salzburger Festspiele, © Wolfgang Lienbacher

Feltsman Returns to Washington

Musorgsky, Pictures at an Exhibition Online scores: Haydn, Hob. XVI:49 Beethoven, op. 13, "Pathétique" Musorgsky, Pictures at an Exhibition

Washington Performing Arts Society brought Vladimir Feltsman back to Washington, for a recital at Strathmore. After being welcomed to the United States by the Reagans in 1987, including performing his American debut at the White House, the Russian-born pianist gave a number of recitals in Washington in the last decade of the 20th century but has not performed here recently, at least not in the history of Ionarts. This long absence and lack of showy notoriety may explain why the Music Hall was relatively undersold, with more empty seats throughout the house than expected for an artist at Feltsman's level. True, he has never not had a contract with a major recording label in recent years, but he has made several highly regarded recordings, with a burgeoning set of particularly fine Bach (Jens has reviewed the concertos and the Goldberg Variations). To be sure, those who did show up were treated to quite a show.

A Classical first half paired sonatas by Haydn and Beethoven that were composed within a decade of one another. Feltsman, who has recently made a number of performances of the Mozart sonatas on his own fortepiano, gave a semi-detached articulation to many sections of the Haydn sonata (E♭ major, Hob. XVI:49) but was not afraid to take advantage of the qualities of the modern Steinway, like its booming bass. It is a work of many attractive qualities, like the mysterious turn to A♭ in the closing section of the exposition, which Feltsman drew out for its suspenseful qualities, further enhancing that motif's return later in the development, used by Haydn to torque up the anticipation of the recapitulation. The second movement featured finely etched handling of the many filigree turns and embellishments, as well as a Beethovenian touch to the fantasy-like middle section in the parallel minor. The third movement, set in a Tempo di Minuetto, was graceful and impeccably athletic in its fingerwork.

Feltsman's interpretation of Beethoven's op. 13 ("Pathétique") was wild and woolly, as if always seeking the elusive and unheard interpretation and often coming up with the merely odd one. It was an approach to Beethoven, broad-toned and even angrily stormy, that is expected by many listeners, which pointed out just how polished and restrained the same sonata was in the hands of Till Fellner earlier in the week, during the continuation of the Austrian pianist's Beethoven cycle. Risks taken in the choice of fast tempi paid off in the overall excitement level of Feltsman's performance, with the inevitable hand slips here and there. In the Grave sections of the first movement, he rendered the forte-piano markings in an unforgettable way, especially on the very first one, lifting the pedal slightly to allow the sound to decay strikingly, creating an almost overtone-like sound.

Other Reviews: Joe Banno, Feltsman offers pianistic "Pictures" (Washington Post, March 29)

By far, however, the high point of the evening was the second half, a prismatic and vividly told Pictures at an Exhibition. There is something to the way a Russian can play the work, which opens, let us not forget, with a Promenade theme marked with the indication "Tempo giusto, in the Russian way, without happiness, but a little sustained" (emphasis added). Feltsman's playing was technically assured, making for thrilling sweeps in the difficult movements, although with some minor imperfections in the devilish Baba-Yaga, which did not detract because they seemed like part of the movement's impishness.

Each movement really caught the spirit of the mood of the viewer confronting a new picture: a gloomy Vecchio Castello (true to the marking of "con dolore"), an antic tumble of kids at play in Tuileries, a hilarious tableau of newly hatched chicks going in every which direction in "Ballet des poussins." Just as the score markings instruct, Feltsman gave a fluttering lightness to the right-hand tremolos in the "Con mortuis" movement, allowing the mystical statement of the promenade theme, transformed into minor and marked "il canto marcato," to be heard. Two Chopin waltzes (F minor, op. 70/2, the ending in A♭ major dovetailing enharmonically with the beginning of the C♯ minor, op. 64/2), offered as a tribute to the Chopin Year ("although for a pianist, every year is a Chopin Year," Feltsman noted wryly), happily showed that rubato is about more than just slowing the tempo down; sometimes it is about speeding up, too.

For fans of fine piano playing, three recitals on the WPAS schedule the next two months will be must-hear affairs: Maurizio Pollini (April 15, 8 pm, Kennedy Center), Mitsuko Uchida (April 21, 8 pm, Strathmore), and Yuja Wang (May 22, 8 pm, 6th and I Historic Synagogue).

Concerts from the Mariinsky Theater

This year's visit by the performers of the Mariinsky Theater to the Kennedy Center features more concert performances than staged ones, but as remarked of their opening concert of Eugene Onegin, a good concert performance of an opera can allow the listener's imaginary perfect staging to unfold in his mind. That is less true of the least satisfying kind of concert opera performance, the hodgepodge of excerpted scenes, which is one step above the gala opera concert with a few arias slapped together. Rather than the two concerts of Russian opera scenes offered by conductor Valery Gergiev this week, on Wednesday and Thursday night, how much better would it have been to have two more complete operas, say, Prince Igor (or Khovanshchina) and Iolanta?

There was much to enjoy at both of these concerts in the Kennedy Center Opera House, but the excerpts of the operas just mentioned stood out for the particular beauty of their scores and the feeling and shape that Gergiev gave to them. On Wednesday it was Borodin's Prince Igor, from which we heard the entire second act after intermission. Ekaterina Semenchuk, the ravishing Olga from last week's Onegin gave another sultry performance as Kontchakovna, matched by the gorgeous, exotic music of the Polovtsian Dances and chorus of the handmaidens. Tenor Sergey Semishkur sounded in much better form as Vladimir than he had as Lensky on Friday night, rounding out the duet with Semenchuk in a beautiful way. Mikhail Petrenko, who had been a patrician Gremin in Onegin, showed a more aggressive side of his voice as the imperious Khan Kontchak entertaining his prisoner. Mikhail Kit, replacing the originally announced Evgeny Nikitin, was an appropriately proud Prince Igor.

Edem Umerov stood in for Nikitin as Shaklovity in the excerpt from Khovanshchina, switched from the probably more satisfying scenes from Act III and IV (which would have stretched out this already long concert even longer) to a scene from the second act. While Umerov's voice had a satisfying roar to it, especially in a resonant top, it was the chorus that stood out in the other two excerpts, especially the men as the drunken Streltsy in Khovanshchina and in the hushed prayers to the Virgin Mary, in the Rimsky-Korsakov rarity The Legend of the Invisible City of Kitezh and the Maiden Fevroniya, to protect the city from the advancing Tartar army. The opera is kind of a snoozer, but Gergiev brought out the master orchestrator's shimmering colors from his orchestra, especially at the conclusion, some magical instrumental effects to evoke the golden fog that rises to shroud the city. As heard on both nights, Gergiev's violins especially and the strings in general have an impressively unified sound for the most part, while the brass, potent and clear, have a tendency to lag behind his beat and the woodwinds have some intonation issues, especially in the flute and piccolo, while the English horn solos were outstanding.

Ekaterina Semenchuk (photo by Sheila Rock)

The second concert was given over to three scenes from Tchaikovsky operas, which did not add up to all that much, a concert that ended much earlier and, although it was lovely to hear at the time, seemed a little light on substance in retrospect. Part of the second act of Mazeppa, conducted recently by Gergiev at the Met, was a dramatic opening, with Edem Umerov, perhaps overly taxed by Gergiev, sounding large but a little shallow in the title role. The lovely soprano Victoria Yastrebova had a pleasant enough turn as Maria, sounding sweet and warm but a little thin at the top. Mezzo Elena Vitman was no match for the demanding part of Lyubov, although she flung her voice at the high notes with reckless daring. Nikolay Gassiev gave a hilarious character tenor rendition of the drunken Cossack in the execution scene. After the memorable staging of The Queen of Spades by the Mariinsky Theater at the Kennedy Center a couple years ago, it was slightly disappointing to be offered only the pastoral entertainment from the second act. Tchaikovsky's skillful evocation of Mozart was airy and delightful certainly, especially the soft second section of music played by the orchestra, but also the pairing of the voices of Irina Mataeva and beefy mezzo Zlata Bulycheva.

Other Reviews: Anne Midgette, Anna Netrebko brings the Mariinsky to life (Washington Post, March 6)

Ultimately what had drawn most people in the hall, which was still somewhat surprisingly not sold out, was a rare appearance in Washington by superstar soprano Anna Netrebko. She entered the stage, in a striking turquoise Valentino gown, at the appropriate point in the final selection from Iolanta. Some of the best singing we have heard from Netrebko was on her Russian Album, made with Gergiev and the orchestra of the Mariinsky Theater, which included a section of this gorgeous opera, not well known outside of Russia. Indeed, Netrebko scored a big success in the Mariinsky production of it, and it was disappointing to hear only a rather short section of it. She was seconded brilliantly by Alexey Markov, the fine Onegin from Friday night, as Robert and less so by tenor Sergey Skorokhodov as Vaudémont -- an earnest sound, slightly indistinct of pitch because of a nervous flutter but overall a pretty, light sound. In short, Netrebko's appearance felt like little payoff for a lot of build-up.

The real climax of the Mariinsky Theater's visit is this weekend's staging of Prokofiev's epic opera War and Peace (March 6 and 7), in the Kennedy Center Opera House. This is the recent production directed by Andrei Konchalovsky for the Mariinsky Theater, featuring a cast of two hundred, with all of the sets and costumes brought from St. Petersburg in a coup of advance planning and transportation rivaling the Napoleonic invasion itself. Tickets are sold out, but call the box office directly to inquire about cancellations.

Ionarts-at-Large: Haitink in Bruckner, Ozawa not in Bruckner

With all due respect to Maestro Mariss Jansons (interview on WETA) who I much admire, it is a very good idea for the Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra to have guest conductors take on the Anton Bruckner duties.

The nervously micromanaging, detail-oriented Jansons has so far delivered Bruckner—live and on record—of awkwardly hollow excellence that does nothing to my Bruckner-love. Christian Thielemann, the Bruckner-reveler across town, is a wholly different story… and so is Bernard Haitink. Superficially he is a conductor similar to Jansons (understatement, subtle musicality, unhurried introspection rather than flashy extroversion), but his Bruckner feels (more than ‘sounds’) completely different: Jansons’ uncomfortable, an exercise in theory; Haitink’s totally natural and organic. That’s not to say Jansons’ Bruckner should be ignored (his Seventh on BR Klassik is good), only that it helps to lower one’s expectations. No need to lower one’s expectations for Haitink’s Bruckner. In February he took the baton and led the BRSO in the Fifth Symphony, the great Fifth.

A.Bruckner, Sy.7, M.Jansons / BRSO BR Klassik A.Bruckner, Sy.5 + Lecture, B.Zander / Philharmonia Telarc

Perhaps Bruckner’s Fifth Symphony is overshadowed in ‘greatness’ by the Eighth, in popularity by the Fourth, in catchiness by the Seventh, portentousness by the unfinished Ninth… heck, it is even overshadowed in underratedness—by the Sixth. But surely it isn’t as neglected as Benjamin Zander suggests in the commentary of his recent recording on Telarc. Only because he hadn’t performed, nor apparently much thought about, the work, doesn’t mean the rest of the conducting- and listening-world has ignored it, too. ArkivMusic lists 63 available copies—about 50 different versions—as currently available. Not the sign of particular neglect. (Zander’s recording, by the way, is a veryfine, refreshingly straightforward account—even if his fearfully excited, 80 minute commentary teeters dangerously close to a clichéd embarrassment.)

Haitink’s direction is unfussy: small gestures and his soft-yet-intense eyes steer the orchestra safely and precisely. Players of the Concertgebouw and BRSO speak admiringly of how little he needs to say in rehearsal, because his motions make intuitive sense to the musicians. Together with the BRSO’s clarity and detail the performance made for a Bruckner that simply felt right. Without highlights or pointed local flavor or exclamation marks, this was moving Bruckner-calm and impressive Bruckner-excitement—and none of the nervous, jerky push-pull of one aborted climax that denotes bad, ill-steered Bruckner. Altogether a lovely night and a performance that reminded me why the Fifth is my favorite Bruckner Symphony.

BRSO-Bruckner was supposed to continue the following week, when Seiji Ozawa was scheduled to conduct the Third (the “Wagner” Symphony). But unfortunately Maestro Ozawa was diagnosed with esophageal cancer (Tim Smith reported, among others) and has canceled half a season’s worth of engagements to make sure he’ll be fully recovered and fit upon his projected return later this year. Also scheduled was the Frank Martin “Concerto for Seven Winds, Percussion & Strings” and because seven soloists—even if they are members of the orchestra—can’t easily be re-scheduled (or disappointed), a conductor had to be found whose schedule allowed him to fill in, and whose repertoire included the Martin. Compromises had to be made, which unfortunately didn’t just mean that Bruckner had to be dropped, replaced with a Mozart Symphony and “Pictures at an Exhibition”.

Cornelius Meister, the 30 year old GMD from Heidelberg, was available but despite the promising name, he conducted more like an apprentice. He managed to be fairly close in sync with the orchestra while ostentatiously waving about during the Mozart Symphony No.29 in A major (KV201), but it wasn’t clear whether that was entirely pro forma or if it had any actual effect on the routinely lovely performance. The tempo—this touch of Meister was evident—was a very brisk one, and the first violins adhered to it. The rest caught up later.

Wolfadeus Mozart, Sys.#29, 31, 32, 35, 36, C.Mackerras / Scottish CO Linn

The symphony itself is worth a few words, since it is Mozart’s first exclamation mark in that genre. It was still composed for the Salzburg court, and the limited orchestration of strings with two oboes and horns reflects that. But the content was bolder, bigger—and Mozart thought the work fit to be played in one of his Vienna academy concerts some nine years after the 1774 composition date. The first and last, among four equally weighted, movements are linked by the distinctive downward octave leaps—nearly as bold as he’d later make them in the Cosí fan tutte overture. Just before this concert I received the latest Mozart offering from Charles Mackerras and the Scottish Chamber Orchestra on the audiophile Linn label: Too high a bar for the Meister-led BRSO to pass that day. Mackerras’ combination of light touch and making his chamber-sized forces exude a bold, even fat sound—rounded off with the innate musicality of one of the foremost Mozartean conductors of our time: the symphony and indeed the whole 2-CD set that also includes Symphonies nos. 31 (“Paris”), 32, 35 (“Haffner”), and 36 (“Linz”) is a charming and subtle triumph.

That’s not to say that the BRSO’s performance was all bad. One touch stood out in particular: In the Andante the strings—especially the first violins, which were more on top of things than their colleagues—achieved a wonderfully glassy, almost synthetic yet light and glowing string sound. The result of using wooden dampers, I was told.

Frank Martin’s concerto—literally and metaphorically at the center of this concert (and exactly as old as the orchestra)—was the reason I attended, and it was the clear highlight. Meister was busy keeping the beat, the orchestra was together, and the soloists, all culled from the superbly skilled first chairs of the orchestra did their instruments—flute, oboe, clarinet, bassoon, trumpet, trombone, timpani, percussion—proud. How to better showcase you orchestra’s talent than with a work like this: From the fabulous flutist Henrik Wiese (Pahud has nothing on this guy) to the Bloomington-native horn doyen Eric Terwilliger and the ridiculously young and talented Ramón Ortega Quero (in 2008, at the age of 20 and shortly after his sweep at the 2007 ARD Music Competition, he became the BRSO’s principal oboist), all participated flawlessly in Martin’s perfectly natural interweaving of the soloist voices.

The only nag is that the work isn’t great Martin. In rather obviously not being so, it shows how very skilled a composer Martin was, as the real quality of composers shows best in their ‘less-than-great’ works. The treatment of the instruments, the professional progression from movement to movement all speaks to his craft. But inspiration came to Martin specifically when composing with a religious subtext in mind. Polyptique enjoys that obvious inspiration while this concerto is rather like music without expression, a concerto-grosso against treacly over-emoting.

The concluding Pictures was civilized boredom; a perfunctory performance of varying tempos that didn’t convince at either extremes, and devoid of the necessary expressive nuance. With every passing minute I more and more appreciated the piano version. Bruckner was missed, as was Ozawa. Get better, maestro—we can’t do without you, yet.