At WCR: Noseda takes the helm

Charles T. Downey, Noseda, NSO bring out the steel and serenity of Prokofiev’s “Romeo and Juliet”
Washington Classical Review, November 4

PREVIOUSLY:
Charles T. Downey, Noseda Brings the Casella (Ionarts, November 13, 2015)

---, Noseda Pumps up the Volume with the NSO (Ionarts, February 12, 2011)

Prokofiev’s 'Romeo and Juliet'

Conductor Gianandrea Noseda
Many thanks to Robert R. Reilly for this review from the Kennedy Center.

On Thursday evening, November 3, 2016, the National Symphony Orchestra essayed Sergei Prokofiev’s great ballet Romeo and Juliet at the Kennedy Center. It did so under the direction of Italian conductor Gianandrea Noseda, who will assume his full duties as replacement for NSO music director Christoph Eschenbach in the fall of 2017.

On the evening’s evidence, this is good news for Washington, D.C. Noseda galvanized the NSO to give a thoroughly compelling performance of this masterpiece. It was a concert performance of the (almost) complete ballet music, but I am tempted to say that, even without dancers, we saw a ballet nevertheless. It is astonishing to realize that Prokofiev’s score was turned down by the Bolshoi in 1935 as “unsuitable for dancing.” Since it contains waltzes, minuets, gavottes, and tarantellas, what’s not to dance to? I have difficulty remaining still in my seat when I listen to it. The music demands movement. Noseda did not resist the impulse. He conducts with more than his baton; his body is his baton. He moved expressively with the music in a balletic way that was neither gratuitous nor histrionic (though his few deep knee bends startled). He clearly communicated. The NSO responded with glorious playing. I think that Romeo and Juliet was not the only love story transpiring on stage.

Noseda’s strong emotional commitment did not compromise orchestral discipline (which is what I sometimes thought was occasionally the problem with the conducting of Mstislav Rostropovich, to whose memory the performance was dedicated). To extend the ballet analogy, the players were on their toes the entire time. They needed to be as Prokofiev’s score has frequent, often abrupt changes of rhythm and pace. To break with the ballet analogy, they turned on a dime. It was a breathtaking level of execution (though there were a few minor flubs, which is to be expected in an opening night performance of a score this demanding, but not once in the many opening or closing cues). The discipline of the playing added to the drama and never subverted the warmth. In other words, technical excellence was never the point.

Thus one was able to appreciate the broad range of expression Noseda and the NSO players captured in the mercurial character of this music. The big moments, such as Tybalt and Mercutio’s fight, Romeo’s reaction to Mercutio’s death (great staccato chords hammered home), the killing of Tybalt, and Romeo’s exile by the Prince, were shockingly visceral and harrowing in their impact. The gentle and gloriously lyrical love music, including the “parting is such sweet sorrow” moment at the end of Act I, the Act II marriage music, and the Act III scene in Juliet’s chamber, were delivered with delicacy and refinement. The music shimmered in all the right places. The Juliet funeral music at the opening of Act IV was a lesson in how searingly sorrowful pianissimo, tremolo string playing can be when done as well as the NSO violins did it.

One hardly knows where to begin in complementing the other members and sections of the orchestra. I never knew how good the tuba music was in depicting Juliet’s growing stupor under the influence of the sleeping potion until I heard it tonight. Kudos to Stephen Dumaine. Perhaps that’s unfair, because I would have to single out so many other individuals. The flute is Juliet’s instrument, and Aaron Goldman played it so well in, so to speak, singing her song. But what of the rest of the brass, the clarinets, the oboes, the bassoons, the saxophone – to say nothing of the outstanding timpani? They were all generally excellent. The undergirding provided by the cellos and double basses was formidable, as were the violas when given their chance to sing.

Anyone who has the faintest appreciation for one of the greatest ballet scores of the 20th century, or who may be curious as to what Maestro Noseda is bringing to our fair city, should not tarry seeing one of the remaining performances.

Romeo and Juliet repeat on Friday and Saturday nights, November 4 and 5. I want to go again.

The Cello Suites, Bach IV (Sebastian Klinger)

Bach’s music – specifically his Cello Suites – excites and enthuses necessarily. And the extraordinary recordings of Jean-Guihen Queyras (Harmonia Mundi) and Sebastian Klinger (Oehms, 2007) further contribute to making over two hours of non-stop solo cello unusually entertaining. Both sway the ears with impeccable technique and a wonderfully caught, natural tone. Klinger (on a 1736 Camillus Camilli) more by more means of dynamism and flexing his well oiled muscles – Queyras (on a 1696 Gioffredo Cappa) with beautifully controlled ardor. 

J.S.Bach, Cello Suites, Sebastian Klinger Oehms J.S.Bach, Cello Suites, J-G.Queyras Harmonia Mundi

Queyras, the former cellist of the Ensemble Intercontemporain has already made a name for himself outside of France with performances and wonderful recordings – including Schubert’s Arpeggione with Alexandre Tharaud and the Dvořák Cello Concerto, where he put one of the most moving slow movements on record down. Klinger, a student of Heinrich Schiff’s and Boris Pergamenschikow’s, became the Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra’s first solo cellist at 27 and is of yet unknown to most American concert going audiences. He has an active solo career by now, but perhaps not quite the presence for international stardom. Some years back, reviewing him in concert as a soloist, I found him having a deficit in soloist-attitude. That hardly speaks against him, though, and certainly not on this recording in the ultimately intimate music of Bach.

Both recordings are similar in many ways – superior technical quality, rich tone, generous acoustic (both were recorded in a church), tempos – but Klinger uses a six-stringed cello for the last Suite, which makes for a slightly calmer, more fragile impression and at 420 hertz Klinger also uses a slightly lower-than-usual tuning for a less edgy and, well, ‘high-strung’, sound. That points to Klinger having absorbed many lessons from the ‘Historically Informed’ school, even if his interpretation is decidedly not “HIP”. (Peter Wispelwey would be the choice for that.)

Anyone who wants to place a modern recording next to their Pierre Fournier in their collection but shies away from the wilful individualism of Gavriel Lipkind will be exceedingly well served by either of these interpretations.

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The Bach Cello Suites elsewhere on ionarts:

● Just What Are the Bach Cello Suites? [Pandolfo, Cocset]
● Solo Bach Cello Suites [Ma, Haimovitz]
● Dip Your Ears, No. 4 [Wispelwey]
● Dip Your Ears, No. 25 [Fournier]
● Dip Your Ears, No. 111 [S.Kuijken, Viola Pomposa]
● Dip Your Ears, No. 145 [Vogler]
● Bach Cello Suites [Baumann, Boettcher]
● The Cello Suites, Bach I [Maisky, DVD]
● The Cello Suites, Bach II [Rostropovich, Fournier, Isserlis, Harnoncourt]

● CD Pick & Recent Releases [Bailey]
● Suites for Dancing [Curtis]

Jerusalem Quartet's latest appearance, Clarice Smith

This review is an Ionarts exclusive.

Bartók, String Quartets 2/4/6, Jerusalem Quartet (released on November 4, 2016) HMC902235 | 78'51" Beethoven, String Quartets, op. 18, Jerusalem Quartet (Harmonia Mundi, 2015) Haydn, Lark Quartet (inter alia), Jerusalem Quartet (Harmonia Mundi, 2004)

We try never to miss any concert by the Jerusalem Quartet. The latest opportunity came on Sunday afternoon at the Clarice Smith Center in College Park. Hopefully, the group's service in the Israel Defense Force is no longer drawing angry protests for political reasons, as none has been observed at their most recent concerts. No matter what your political views, it is beyond argument that this string quartet is one of the most consistently musical ensembles playing this rarefied repertory.

This program opened with one of the Haydn quartets the group recorded over a decade ago, op. 64, no. 5, known as "L'Alouette" (The lark). Haydn is not easy, although his music may seem so on the surface, because it requires extraordinary subtlety to bring off well. Only some initial tuning discrepancies marred the first time through the exposition of the first movement, which settled into place for the rest of the piece. The first movement's tempo marking, Allegro moderato, implies exactly the jaunty but unhurried pace chosen by the Jerusalems, allowing just enough relishing of Haydn's sneaking back into the main theme at the recapitulation. The second movement had the feel of an opera aria, showcasing the solo of first violinist Alexander Pavlovsky, accompanied with gorgeously delicate variations by the accompanying instruments. The group's dance movements are generally delightful, as was the Menuetto here, weighty yet graceful, and not too fast, with comic wrong-note grace notes and a plaintive trio. Only with the finale, set at a tempo of Vivace, did the speed come out of the arsenal of weapons. Light, playful, it was a tour de force, with all instruments featured in beautiful spotlights in the fugal section.

The Prokofiev string quartets are hopefully among this group's future recording projects. Given that their Shostakovich ranks among the best version of that composer's quartet cycle, it was little surprise that a performance of Prokofiev's op. 50 was so good. Pavlovsky had just the right gleaming tone on the slashing first violin melody of the first movement's opening theme, with the other instruments coming to the fore in the slower, more passionate second theme. Tuning issues cropped up again, with unisons and octaves between instruments not always lining up, but the brutal passages were appropriately savage. After a mournful opening, the second movement's grotesque faster sections were funny and obsessive, with cellist Kyril Zlotnikov howling on his A-string solo. Violist Ori Kam had some luscious solo moments in the third movement, which buzzed with intensity until it died away.

Once during the Prokofiev and again in Beethoven's op. 59, no. 1 ("Razumovsky"), Zlotnikov's cello peg seemed to slide out of its place on the floor and bump his music stand. Resulting unease may have been partially responsible for the Beethoven feeling the least satisfying, although still beautiful. The first movement went a little too fast for all of the rapid running passages to come out distinctly enough, but Beethoven's toying around with the return of the main theme at the recapitulation, long delayed, was rendered well. The tempo marking of the second movement is confusing, because it is seemingly contradictory (Allegretto vivace sempre scherzando), but the Jerusalems took it not too fast, which seems the right call. The obsessive "drum motif" that runs through the piece is more tense that way. The climax of the quartet here was the slow movement, which was placid, clear, and expressive because it was so well coordinated. The trill in the first violin covered the transition into the finale, where the strain of a long evening frayed the edges of the first violinist's playing in a few places.

A single encore was a preview of the Jerusalem Quartet's new disc of half of Bartók's string quartets, a repertory I have been waiting for them to record. The Allegro pizzicato movement from the fourth quartet had a stunning variety of plucked sound, making it much more than just an effect piece. The force of the "Bartók pizzicati," more percussive than a normal plucked string, caused one of the cellist's strings to break, sadly not many bars before the piece ended. Once the string was replaced, and a few anecdotes told, the group repeated the entire movement.

Next up at the Clarice Smith Center, the University of Maryland Symphony Orchestra plays Shostakovich's tenth symphony (November 7, 8 pm).

Hilary Hahn and Robert Levin

Charles T. Downey, Hahn and Levin strike sparks from Bach to Türk
Washington Classical Review, October 29

PREVIOUSLY:
Charles T. Downey, Hilary Hahn, Again (Ionarts, April 21, 2016)

At WCR: NSO, Benedetti

Charles T. Downey, Eschenbach, NSO present a contrasted program of Marsalis, Tchaikovsky
Washington Classical Review, October 28

PREVIOUSLY:
Charles T. Downey, Yuja Wang's Polished Performance with the NSO (Ionarts, December 8, 2012)

---, Nicola Benedetti In Over Her Head (Ionarts, February 5, 2009)

Wheeldon makes 'Cinderella' theatrical

Maria Kochetkova in Christopher Wheeldon’s Cinderella, San Francisco Ballet (photo © Erik Tomasson)
Christopher Wheeldon is a choreographer who misses more than he hits. The works reviewed at Ionarts show he has a flair for the dramatic, favoring striking visual effects through lighting, costumes, stagecraft, and puppetry. In few cases, however, has his ballet choreography stood out as striking. His take on The Winter's Tale was the strongest in this regard, and his Alice in Wonderland particularly weak. Wheeldon's new version of Cinderella, presented by San Francisco Ballet in 2013 and using the delightful Prokofiev score, makes its local debut at the Kennedy Center Opera House this week. As seen at opening night on Wednesday, it falls on the Alice side of things.

This Cinderella is more an evening of wordless, pantomimed theater than a ballet in the true sense. It abounds in childish slapstick humor that still drew loud chortles, and the fairy tale visual storytelling will keep children wide-eyed, including one down the row from us who talked throughout the whole, three-hour evening. Anyone looking for the hallmarks of classical ballet will be disappointed. There are no memorable solo dances, no great pas de deux, and no lush use of the corps as anything but colorful backdrop. One does not expect to see a corps de ballet asked to sashay in place; countless other movements given by Wheeldon would not be out of place in a Broadway chorus scene. From a ballet point of view, this was one of the most boring evenings I have experienced in the theater.

Wheeldon and his scenarist, Craig Lucas, fill in the backstory, opening with the death of Cinderella's mother. As in The Winter's Tale he inserts a strong male friendship, between Prince Guillaume (Joseph Walsh) and his pal Benjamin (Taras Domitro), also both shown as children in the opening scenes. Benjamin initiates his own romance with the nicer of the two stepsisters (apprentice Ellen Rose Hummel, matched with the more vicious Sasha De Sola), to no great advantage for the ballet. Four Fates, male dancers who repeatedly lifted the inert Cinderella (otherwise beautiful and charming Maria Kochetova) around the stage, were a needless distraction. The stereotypes of Russians (made with Prokofiev's music), Spaniards, and Balinese in the divertissement were at the edge of appalling. The visual coups are the only achievement, with especially memorable sequences involving a growing tree and Cinderella's carriage (overseen by Basil Twist).

Worst of all, Wheeldon is not a choreographer driven by music. When he works with a new composition, he turns to a composer who does not write great music. Here, working with one of the great scores of the 20th century -- not played to perfection by the Kennedy Center Opera House Orchestra, under Martin West -- too many of his gestures seemed mostly or entirely disconnected from the musical gestures. It was the same feeling elicited by Wheeldon's This Bitter Earth, but that was with a musical trifle by comparison. Then again, most versions of Cinderella do not not quite please: Ashton (too saccharine), Ratmansky (too caustic), and others. The way to make the score work with the choreography, though, would seem to be to take one's cue from the music.

Performances continue through October 30, in the Kennedy Center Opera House.

Lintu, Hewitt return to the BSO

Conductor Hannu Lintu

Hannu Lintu is not concerned much with subtlety. The Finnish conductor, who last appeared with the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra in 2013, tends toward out-sized, expressive gestures. In his latest program with the band from Charm City, heard on Saturday night in the Music Center at Strathmore, broad strokes most suited him, especially in a hard-lined performance of Dvořák's eighth symphony.

The high point of the evening was a performance of Cantus Arcticus by the late Finnish composer Einojuhani Rautavaara. The piece was composed in the 1970s, and it feels like it, in an Age of Aquarius kind of way. Its principal gesture, incorporating slightly manipulated recordings of birds taken by the composer in the Arctic Circle, was nothing new, going back to Respighi's Pines of Rome and to countless compositions before the advent of recording. Most bird calls are atonal, of course, and consist essentially of clusters, which Rautavaara captures in the instrumental writing for paired flutes and paired trumpets. Nothing much happens over the course of twenty minutes, but the atmospheric effect of the piece is quite pleasing.

Angela Hewitt's last concerto appearance in the area was an underwhelming Mozart concerto with the National Symphony Orchestra in 2014. Results were better this time around in Beethoven's first concerto, heard just earlier this month from Emanuel Ax and the NSO. Hewitt dialed back the tempo of the first movement especially, creating a mellow feel, even in the extended cadenza, conceived more as gentle spirals than violent zig-zags. The second movement was expressive and the best coordinated of the three between Lintu and Hewitt, with a peppy finale to tie things up. The staid crowd did not cheer loudly enough to warrant the encore Hewitt reportedly played at other performances.

Lintu's Sibelius has been much to my liking over the years, and the Rautavaara had many of the same qualities. His Dvořák, by contrast, felt strident and forced, especially the berserk drive of the finale. It was crack ensemble playing, held together by Lintu's fastidious and severe pacing, but it felt breathless and harried, and not in a good way. Impressive, certainly, but somehow too impatient.