New York Philharmonic. Rostropovich – guest conductor; Martha Argerich – piano; Philip Smith – trumpet. 4/30/2005

Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center. First Tier Center. Seat AA21.

Tonight’s concert was nearly an all-Russian affair. Two pieces by Dmitry Shostakovich and two by Sergei Prokofiev. The conductor was Mstislav Rostropovich. Argentina-born Martha Argerich was the solo pianist.

I don’t understand Shostakovich. I suspect many in the audience, in their moments of weakness, would admit to the same. But this is New York City, and we are all masters of the universe, at least masters of Russian modern music.

My first contact with Shostakovich was when I was a teenager in Hong Kong. One of his concertos was performed by a competitor in the Hong Kong School Music Festival. I went as a student reporter for a local newspaper and dutifully jotted down the judge’s comments on the performance, although I was totally confounded by the piece. During the intervening 30-odd years, I have come into contact with this composer’s works quite a few times. I recall enjoying listening to his violin concerto and his symphony (don’t remember which ones), and if you search my house, you may find a CD of his music.

The program started with his op. 96 Festive Overture composed in 1954. The beginning trumpet voluntary seemed a little wobbly, but the performance improved to become exciting and enjoyable. Rostropovich, in his late 70s, is still very energetic. His effervescence was contagious and he got himself a very appreciative crowd who applauded with great enthusiasm. This short piece is quite different from my impression of what Shostakovich sounds like, in that it still has a heavy dose of romantic structure in it.

The program notes contains some interesting facts about this piece: it was pulled together in about a week, and the orchestra had a dress rehearsal two days later. It amazes me how the genius and the professional can work at such blazing speed.

Shostakovich’s Concerto No. 1 in C minor for Piano, Trumpet, and Strings (op. 35) is mostly for the piano and the string orchestra, with the trumpet making an appearance here and there. This was composed in 1933, a full 20 years before the Festive Overture, yet it has a much more modern structure to it. The composer lived during a very tumultuous period in Russian history with the political winds blowing in different directions from one year to the other. He won the accolades of the government many times, and he was condemned many times for compositions considered either not patriotic enough or not appropriately effusive of the revolution. It was a sign of the times that at a youthful 27 he refused to comment on the inner meaning of the work (quoting from the program notes.) I couldn’t tell whether it was revolutionary, patriotic, or hinted at anti-communism – I am sure many of my fellow concert-goers couldn’t either.

While I am not able to analyze the work, it is overall a melodious piece, with good balance between the soloist, the trumpet, and the orchestra. I attended a concert at Carnegie Hall a couple of weeks ago where Argerich performed Beethoven’s Piano Concerto No. 4 with Charles Dutoit conducting the Philadelphia Orchestra. There Argerich dominated the orchestra which detracted from an otherwise excellent performance. She didn’t have that problem tonight. The back-and-forth among the strings, the trumpet and the piano was most enjoyable. The segments where the trumpet played a mournful tune (when’s the last time you heard a mournful tune from a trumpet?) and the strings played with the wooden part of the bow (del sogno?) were most interesting. The fourth movement sounded just like what I thought Shostakovich should sound like. At the end Argerich launched into a fiery cadenza which she tackled with ease.

Prokofiev’s Piano Concerto No. 1 in D-flat major (op. 10) was composed in 1911, when the composer was only 20 years old. This work is quite well known and begins with an energetic statement by the piano that will recur a couple of times during the piece. The glissandos and chromatic scales make the first movement a delight for both the performer and the audience. The tight and mechanical section in the middle provides a nice change of pace, and the theme reappears at the end of the first movement. The second movement begins in a dream-like manner by the woodwinds, and is eventually developed broadly by the full orchestra. The third movement is light and fast, with another demanding cadenza that Argerich does so well. Towards the end the piano and the orchestra engage in an animated conversation and the work ends after the original theme makes its third appearance. It is a testament to Prokofiev’s prodigy that he could compose such a masterful, mature piece while still a student at the Conservatory of St. Petersburg.

Perhaps I can pause here and reflect a little on Argerich’s performance. She is a technical virtuoso who seems to get through the most difficult pieces without any appearance of struggling. In a couple of her prior performances I saw (the Carnegie Hall one mentioned above was the latest before this one), she was also a great interpreter of the music. This performance, however, seemed a little flat. Not because she couldn’t handle the pieces, but she didn’t seem to resonate as much with these pieces as she did with, say, Beethoven’s Piano Concerto. While I admire her technical skills, I was slightly disappointed at the overall effect. I may have been in the minority, given how ready the audience was to jump and give her a standing ovation.

The last work for the evening was Prokofiev’s Symphony No. 7 in C-sharp minor (op. 131), the last of his symphonies. I noticed that Rostropovich was conducting without a baton, perhaps in keeping with the gentle beginning of the symphony which soon developed into a small climax. The symphony was written with young listeners in mind, and the program notes point to a “child-like” theme which was easy enough to catch. Its first appearance was a disappointment, though it became more interesting as it got developed. The second movement also began gently, and its development section had a mysterious air to it. During the melodic interlude I noticed that Rostropovich picked up his baton again, and with it he brought the second movement to its climatic conclusion. While the maestro was catching his breath, I noticed all this coughing around me. Lincoln Center should emulate Carnegie Hall and provide its patrons with cough drops. During the third and relatively short third movement, Rostropovich did away with his baton again. There were nice segments played by various parts of the orchestra, and the march-like structure was pleasant to the ear. The tone of the work changed rather quickly as we got to the fourth movement, although lighter segments seemed to try to make their appearances every now and then. The atmosphere got quite ominous when the timpani reasserted itself in a different key, and the earlier child-like theme was now played in various minor keys, and the mournful xylophone brought a wave of sadness at the end – or what I thought was the end. For some reason Prokofiev didn’t want to end the symphony that way; as a coda we got a light and bright segment to conclude the work. I am not sure I understand why.

One can’t help but notice that the percussion section was having a lot of fun with this piece. You see the timpani player constantly tuning his drums for the next segment, and other percussionists walking from one instrument to the other, carrying the music. I think the modern composers created percussion as a profession. Most of the music from the baroque and classical periods call for only a timpani! It’s also fun for the audience, I must say.

My wife and I first saw Rostropovich playing the cello at Bailey Hall of Cornell University, Ithaca, New York, probably in the late 1970s, while I was a graduate student. I don’t remember much of that event, except that he was very expressive, and that he had recently emigrated from Russia. If you read the Playbill biographical notes, you can’t but admire how he was a contemporary of Shostakovich and Prokofiev, and how he took great risks in speaking out for freedom of his compatriots. At 78, it must take a lot of stamina to stand there and conduct for 90 minutes or so.

See the New York Times review of the same program performed on Wednesday 4/27/2005.