Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center. Orchestra (Seat G101, $54.)
Program
Serenade for Tenor, Horn, and Strings, Op. 31 (1943) by
Britten (1913-76).
Spring Symphony, Op. 44 (1948-49) by Britten.
Artists
Philip Myers, horn; Kate Royal, soprano; Sasha Cooke,
mezzo-soprano, Michael Slattery, tenor; Dominic Armstrong, tenor; New York
Choral Artists – Joseph Flummerfelt, director; Brooklyn Youth Chorus – Dianne Berkum-Menaker,
director.
Somehow there seem to be more Britten celebrations for
his 100th birthday than there are for Verdi’s and Wagner’s 200th. I purchased these tickets before I went to
the (non-subscription) Singapore Symphony concert (where his piano concerto was
played) and the opera A Midsummer Night’s Dream (both in October.) If I had all this planned out in advance, I
probably would not have gotten tickets to this concert, thinking I would be “Brittened
out” by now. An awkward way of saying, “but
that would be a mistake.”
Also, I wouldn’t have heard Gilbert’s introduction to the
program. I had already gotten an email
saying that the original tenor slated for the program, Paul Appleby, withdrew
and would be replaced by two different tenors for the two compositions. So it was “blah blah blah” as Gilbert talked
about how they scrambled to look for replacements. I think everyone’s ears perked up when he
said one of them only saw the music for the first time the night before. If Gilbert was looking for sympathy from the
audience, it wasn’t necessary; I certainly wouldn’t have realized that was the
case. I walked away impressed, but more
on that later.
The last two Britten performances (piano concerto and
opera) were a bit beyond me, even though I enjoyed them. Tonight’s two pieces restored my faith that I
do get Britten’s music, albeit at a possibly superficial level.
The Serenade, written for a solo horn, a solo tenor, and
a string orchestra, was particularly easy to understand and appreciate. It began and concluded with a solo by Philip
Myers, the Philharmonic’s principal horn.
The beginning was a bit shaky as Myers seemed to have some problems with
hitting and holding the correct pitches.
I also worried if he was going to affirm the reputation (or rather
notoriety) of the brass section being too loud.
Things greatly improved as the 25 minute piece progressed, though.
In addition to the solo horn prolog and epilog (the
latter being played offstage), the selections in the Seranade are (i) Pastoral –
The Evening Quatrains by Charles Cotton; (ii) Nocturne – Blow, Bugle, Blow by
Alfred, Lord Tennyson; (iii) Elegy – The Sick Rose by William Blake; (iv) Dirge
– Anonymous; (v) Hymn – Hymn to Diana by Ben Johnson; and (vi) Sonnet – To Sleep
by John Keats. While the Program Notes
describes the general narrative as depicting night and the tricks it conjures,
I heard it mostly as a reminder of death (the titles of the last three poems
make that quite clear.) Indeed I thought
in addition to the bucolic and restful imagery, the work is infused with
resignation and sadness. The words to
Dirge actually remind me of the lullaby “Hush little baby don’t say a word.”
I was a bit surprised that I picked a seat in Row G when
I ordered the tickets. Turns out Row G
is the second row as the stage was extended to accommodate the large ensembles
for the Symphony. The string orchestra
was small enough that we could see beyond the outermost lineup of members. However, we were very close to the horn and
relatively far from the tenor. The
balance was still okay (except for the beginning noted above.)
The Symphony was complex as the Serenade was simple. In addition to a full orchestra with its
accoutrement of exotic percussion instruments, the Symphony also calls for
three solo voices, a chorus, and a children’s chorus.
I suspect most people were like me: wondering how the
tenor Armstrong would do. In my case it
became a non-issue soon after things got started: it sounded as if the piece
was in his standard repertoire. Now
there was this young man (assistant conductor Case Scaglione?) sitting in the
first row with the full music score who would give Armstrong cues every now and
then, but I suspect that was a backup plan that ended up being only marginally
necessary.
This work reminds me a bit of A Midsummer Night’s Dream
in that the music is probably much more complex than it sounds. I walked away enjoying the tunes, the
interplay of the different parts, and the story (such as it was) conveyed by
the words. I also suspect I will gain
new insight into how Britten put it together if I listen to it again. Britten draws a parallel between his
musicianship and that of Mahler’s and how he appreciates Mahler’s sense of
form, using this symphony and the Requiem as examples. I didn’t get that, and certainly won’t
mistake this as something written by Mahler, whose music never sounds simple to
me.
The Symphony’s mood is set by the poems selected, and by
a “particularly lovely Spring day in East Suffolk, the Suffolk of Constable and
Gainsborough.” The 45-minute work is
divided into four parts, each part in turn contains several poems. Part I – Introduction: (i) Shine Out by
Anonymous, (ii) The Merry Cuckoo by Edmund Spenser; (iii) Spring by Thomas
Nashe; (iv) Whenas the Rye/The Driving Boy by George Peele/John Clare; (v) The
Morning Star (On May Morning) by John Milton.
Part II: (i) Welcome Maids of Honour (To Violets) by Robert Herrick;
(ii) Waters Above (The Shower) by Henry Vaugh; (iii) Out on the lawn I lie in
bed by W. H. Auden. Part III: (i) When
will my May come? by Richard Barnfield; (ii) Fair and Fair (Song of Oenone and
Paris) by George Peele; (iii) Sound the Flute! (Spring) by William Blake. Part IV – Finale: (i) London, to thee I do
present by Francis Beaumont/John Fletcher; (ii) Soomer is i-coomen in by
Anonymous. At the conclusion there were
some words about “Long live the king” and “Death to treasoners” that weren’t in
the Program Notes. They are still
question marks in my mind.
The artists all did well, without the horn hoarding the
acoustic space, the balance was quite satisfactory. With so much squeezed into 45 minutes, there
wasn’t a role that was particularly outstanding, though. The other interesting thing is while Britten’s
music generally has a distinct tune (or several going on simultaneously,) it is
atonal in that there is no definite key to it.
I was remarking to myself how would I know if the singers are off,
singing in the wrong key? Of course in
some places we have traditional harmonies, but in many instances it is more a
contrapuntal relationship among the voices.
Here is the New York Times review.
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