New York Philharmonic – Bramwell Tovey, conductor; Joyce Yang, piano; Virginie Verrez, mezzo-soprano. April 5, 2016.

David Geffen Hall at Lincoln Center.  Orchestra 1 (Seat P105, $69.50).

Program

Ballet Music from Le Cid (1885) by Massenet (1842-1912).

Noches en los jardines de Espana (Nights in the Gardens of Spain), Symphonic Impressions for Piano and Orchestra (1908-16) by Falla (1876-1946).

El sombrero de tres picos (The Three-Cornered Hat), complete ballet (1916-19) by Falla.

These tickets were purchased as part of the CYO subscription, that was around September, 2015.  Turns out Anne had a class, so she couldn’t go.  So CS made use of the available ticket.

This was billed by the New York Philharmonic as a “Spanish Nights” program, although I would say the music was peppered with some French influence.

Evidently other than the violin solo Meditation from the opera Thais, Massenet also wrote lots of music (my attempt at humor.)  Indeed I have also seen Werther and Manon.  I consider these works French in nature.  Le Cid, on the other hand, is derived from Pierre Corneille’s 1637 recounting of a tale of conflict, love, and honor from Spanish history (quoting directly from the Playbill.)  As customary for operas in that period, a ballet was included, in this case the opera’s second act.  Each of the seven dances is an example of a different Spanish form, which the Playbill further claims “many listeners may recognize without being quite able to place them.”

Listed in the Playbill under this ballet are the following dances: Castillane, Andalouse, Aragonaise, Aubade, Catalane, Madrilene, and Navarraise.  Among areas of music that I don’t know much about, Spanish music ranks among the highest, so I wasn’t holding out any hope I would recognize any of the tunes.  Even more confusing was Tovey’s introduction, he said there would be five movements, with the last movement repeating the theme of the first.  All I could say is the music started off sounding more French than Spanish, although it changed as the movements progressed.  As to Massenet writing Spanish-sounding music, I do want to observe at that time he was living in Marseilles, which is relatively close to Spain.  I did catch the similarity between the beginning and end of the music, though.

Tovey also made some remarks about “Nights in the Gardens of Spain.”  He said all we needed to think of was someone waking up after the afternoon siesta, and imagine how he would then proceed to spend the rest of the evening.  The three movements are (1) En el Generalife (in the Generalife) (Allegretto tranquillo e misterioso); (2) Danza lejana (Distant Dance) (Allegro giusto); and (3) En los jardines de la Sierra de Cordoba (In the Gardens of the Sierra de Cordoba) (Vivo).  Manuel de Falla had never travelled to Granada where the Generalife Palace and Sierra de Cordoba gardens were located; evidently pictures and literary descriptions were enough of an inspiration for him.

Our decision to buy these tickets was no doubt influenced by Joyce Yang as the soloist.  Yang sprang onto the music scene several years ago (evidently as far back as 2005) after she won a silver medal at the van Cliburn competitions.  Even though she appears in New York quite frequently, this was the first time I got to see her perform.  While the piece is difficult enough, I can’t really say whether I was awe-struck by her as a pianist.  In trying to get a sense of the composition as a whole, I didn’t have the bandwidth to understand the piano as a voice separate from the orchestra.  The piece seemed difficult enough, and I could hear the piano distinctly most of the time; there were instances when the orchestra overwhelmed it, somewhat surprising as our seats were quite good.

Another observation I would make is there is quite a bit of French in this work.  Which is not surprising as de Falla spent a lot of time in Paris, associating closely with Dukas, Debussy, and Ravel.  This work was first imagined as four nocturnes for a piano, and over eight (!) years it evolved into what de Falla would call “symphonic impressions.”

If you say “Manuel de Falla” to Anne she would respond with “Three-Cornered Hat.”  This work, likely most well-known of de Falla’s, was based on a story making fun of the Corregidor (Magistrate) whose three-corned hat signified his status.  Tovey did explain a bit about the story, and how the bassoon represented the magistrate slinking from a rock.  (He said more, but I forget.)  The copyright holder of the story would not allow it to be turned into an opera, so it was scored for a pantomime.  Serge Diaghilev saw a performance of this play and asked de Falla to expand the work into a full ballet.  The premier was in London in 1919, with Pablo Picasso as the designer of sets and costumes, and other luminaries were involved as well.

The 38-minute (per Playbill) work consists of the following.  Introduction.  Part One – Afternoon, Dance of the Miller’s Wife (Fandango), The Corregidor, The Miller’s Wife, The Grapes.  Part Two – The Neighbors’ Dance (Seguidillas), The Miller’s Dance (Farruca), The Bodyguard – The Miller’s Wife – The Corregidor – Dance of the Corregidor, The Corregidor and the Miller’s Wife, The Miller, Final Dance (Jota).

All this should make for an interesting experience, if the ballet had been performed.  It would take a lot of imagination to picture the ballet and its props as one listens to the music; and I don’t have that good an imagination.  So I was left with trying to catch the bassoon tune, which I managed to do; that wasn’t enough for me to follow along the plot, though.  About the only other aspect I capture was the Seguidilla, a term I learned from the opera Carmen.

De Falla added a couple of voice passages to the ballet, which was to warn the villagers that the devil was about.  Verrez had a booming and pleasant voice, but the total singing time was perhaps three minutes.

I have seen Bramwell Tovey several times, when he conducted the New York Philharmonic during their summer series.  He usually gave a small introduction to the program he conducted, with a nice dose of humor.  This was the fifth (and last) concert of the series, so while the introduction was still informative, the humor was a bit dry (tired, not the “dry” as in British humor.)

The program probably would appeal to some folks (Anne, for example), but for me it seemed more like a lost opportunity.

The New YorkTimes review was somewhat mixed.  The program was discussed in reverse order: great praise for “The Three-Cornered Hat,” generally good for “Spanish Nights,” and quite critical for “Le Cid.”  I didn’t catch the miscues the reviewer was talking about, perhaps the coordination improved by the fifth concert.

I met up with CS for a light meal at Europan, and we took the train back to New Jersey together.  Anne had just returned from DC and was able to pick me up at the train station.