Australian Chamber Orchestra. Richard Tognetti – director and violin, Timo-Veikko Valve – cello. November 17, 2019.

Concert Hall, Sydney Opera House (via Facebook livestreaming).

Program

Jouissance by Ford (b. 1957).

Gran Turismo by Norman (b. 1979).

Concerto for Violin and Cello in A minor, Op. 102 “Double Concerto” by Brahms (1833-1897).

Symphony No. 8 in G major, Op. 88 by Dvorak (1841-1904).

A little before 10 pm Saturday night I got this email message saying there will be a live broadcast of an ACO concert at 10 pm (2 pm Sunday in Sydney).  I tuned in to take a look, but ended up sitting through the entire concert.  Even though the video froze a few times, it was still a very good broadcast.

I had seen posters for the ACO in Australia, but the timing of my visits had never been right, so I have not been at one of their concerts, and knew very little about them.  In the back of my mind I think of them as an Orpheus-wannabe, probably not as good.  Turns out they have an “artistic director and violin,” and they are also quite good.  For this concert they had many guest orchestra members.  For instance, three additional cellist to the usual three, and two guest bassists in addition to the one on their regular roster.  Therefore, the “final product” may not be a reflection of the ensemble itself, for better or for worse.

Jouissance is best described as a trumpet fanfare, and was performed by ACO’s (guest) principal trumpet Visa Haarala.  Andrew Ford started this as a piece for two trumpets, but there was really no explanation of how it ended up in this form.  The title was meant to denote “joy,” but colloquially the French word could also mean orgasm.  That confirms my thinking that it is rather pretentious (and in this case comical) to be too clever with choice of titles, a relatively recent phenomenon for some composers.  The Annotator had the wit to question if the piece was placed too early in the program.

The trumpet was situated in the organist area of the auditorium (high and in the back).  The lights then shone on the stage (for this concert hall it is surrounded by the audience) where eight violinists pounded away at Andrew Norman’s 8-minute Gran Turismo.  Even though the sound could be monotonous after a while, it was nonetheless interesting to see how the musicians interacted with each other in this rather difficult piece.  The piece was supposed to reflect Norman’s discovery of Futurist art and the video game called Gran Turismo.  I quote from the Program (which I found online): “Tropes of Futurist art … and racing games became the basis for the work’s composition: visual drama, divided space, … competition … HIGHER! LOUDER! FASTER! … orchestra revving its engines …” Fair enough, a couple of days later (typing this inside United 179) I could remember the energy, but very little of how the piece sounded.

Brahms’s double concerto doesn’t get performed a lot, so I decided to keep the TV on.  Brahms often consulted with Joseph Joachim on violin pieces, but the two friends had a falling out because Brahms defended Amalie, Joachim’s wife, whom Joachim believed had an affair (not with Brahms).  After several years, Brahms wrote this piece somewhat as a peace offering, and the premiere was performed by Joachim and Robert Hausmann, conducted by Brahms.  With this background, one could catch what the music was trying to say.  Without this background, it would still have been a brilliant piece for the soloists, even though initial reception by critics was not the warmest.  The three movements are Allegro, Andante, and Vivace non troppo.

Brahms’s violin music generally isn’t flamboyant, but can be very difficult.  He didn’t use a lot of the techniques beloved by – say – Paganini.  The difficulty is in the copious use of double stops, syncopation, and intricate phrasing.  I was following along with the score and was amazed at the lines and lines of double stops for the solo violin.  I don’t play the cello, but can assume the same high demands on the cellist.

The first movement was really well-performed.  The interplay between the two soloists and the orchestra was just right.  Very often it was so intimate that it felt like chamber music rather than an orchestral work.  The level of playing dropped a bit for second and third movements, unfortunately.

When the players were assembled on stage, I thought there was not going to be a conductor.  Turns out Tognetti did quite a bit of conductor with his bow while he wasn’t playing the violin.  I was worried all the flips would break the bow. He didn’t need a score for the orchestra, but one for himself; something I never understand.

This photo was copied from an ACO Facebook entry.  The two soloists have their backs to each other.  Not intentional, but interesting for this concerto of friendship.  (This was not taken at the Sydney Opera House.)

The Dvorak symphony is often referred to as the composer’s “pastoral” symphony.  Sure enough, it began with birds singing.  This symphony can sound great when performed well, or it can sound dragged out with a mediocre orchestra.  While not mediocre, it certainly wasn’t great.  With the help of a competent video director, one could see the individual players as they played their lines, and the flutist (Sally Parker) got a lot of screen time.  Even though some of the tunes are simple, they do add a lot to the adjective “pastoral.”  Tognetti was the conductor, and didn’t play the violin at all.

In the Program Andrew Ford had a rather lengthy article that started with the provocative question “Why does history think less of Dvorak than of Brahms?”  He proceeded to discuss how national composers (Dvorak, Verdi, etc) are different from the mainline German-Austrian heritage, and how music could have lyrics or motifs.  Some interesting points, some points a bit hard to follow, but at the end “the reader can decide,” or “more thinking needs to be done.”  (Those are my words.)

The ACO evidently has an instrument acquisition program that has had quite a bit of success, and this is the first Program I saw listing the instrument played by each individual.  Instruments range from a violin made in 1600 (!) to one made in 1989.

Overall, this was an interesting encounter with the ACO, even though it was over the internet.  Here is a Sydney Morning Herald review of the concert, it mentions there were 52 players for the Dvorak symphony, three times the number of regular ACO musicians.

New York Philharmonic. Santtu-Matias Rouvali - conductor; Bryce Dessner – Electric Guitar. November 15, 2019.

David Geffen Hall at Lincoln Center.  Orchestra (Seat O6, $52.50).

Program

Romeo and Juliet, Overture-Fantasy (1869, rev. 1870 and 1880) by Tchaikovsky (1840-93).

Wires (2016) by Bryce Dessner (b. 1976).

Symphony No. 1 in E minor, Op. 39 (1898-99, rev. 1900) by Sibelius (1865-1957).

There were several firsts with this concert.  This series of concerts was the debut for both the conductor and the soloist; this was the first time the electric guitar was a featured solo instrument in a New York Phil classical concert (called an orchestral concert in the Playbill); and this was also the premiere for Dessner’s composition.

For me – it turned out – both the Tchaikovsky and the Sibelius were unfamiliar.  I did a search of this blog just now, I have heard the Tchaikovsky piece once, performed by the Moscow State Symphony, back in 2014.  Of the many encounters with Sibelius, not once did I hear Symphony No. 1 (No. 4 seems very popular, on par with his violin concerto).  It was well into the piece (about 10 minutes) that the familiar theme in Romeo and Juliet appeared for the first time, and it was (close to) worth the wait.

Per Playbill, some “wags” have called the first Sibelius symphony Tchaikovsky’s seventh (the Pathetique was written in 1893); interestingly, Sibelius liked to compare the last movement of the symphony (appropriately titled: Final (quasi un fantasia) – Andante – Allegro molto) with Berlioz’s Symphonie fantastique, written quite a bit earlier in 1830.  In any case, Sibelius was one of the last composers of the symphonic tradition, one challenged by the Liszt-Wagner camp.

Despite my unfamiliarity with this symphony, I found it “easy-listening” and enjoyable.  The first three movements are Andante ma no troppo – Allegro energico; Andante ma non troppo lento; and Scherzo: Allegro.

The “easy-listening” was in no small part due to my experience with Dessner’s Wires.  First of all, I have limited knowledge of the range of sounds the electric guitar could make, so it took a lot of concentration just to pick up the instrument.  On top of that, the music – while not grating on the ears – was not easy to follow.  While the sentence “I was thinking just about [how] instead of sending e-mails we used to send wires” makes sense on the surface, I have no idea how that comparison was realized in the music.  The Playbill specifically mentioned two other wired instruments in the ensemble: the harp and the piano, my question is why weren’t they at the front of the stage.  I could hear the piano, but couldn’t see it at all from my seat.

 Dessner and Rouvali.  The white object to the right of Dessner is the amplifier.

After the performance of Sibelius's First Symphony.

And I am sure some string players were chuckling as they went through a col legno passage, perhaps an indication they didn’t know what was going on either?

A somewhat un-related remark: this orchestra does have a great sound that one could always count on.  I say that thinking about NJ Symphony, still on occasion a hit-or-miss affair.  Nearly all the principals were missing today, from the concertmaster to the timpanist.  The principal flute did come back for the Sibelius.  We saw Rouvali a few years back (he was very young then), with the New Jersey Symphony.  My remarks about both the orchestra and the conductor were not kind.  Rouvali still conducted with much exaggerated motions, but the orchestra seemed to respond, to an overall good effect.  As readers of the blog know, my opinion of the NJSO has improved tremendously, although every now and then doubts still creep in.

We got these tickets from Today Tix at $52.50 each (seats cost $99 on website, plus fees), and the price on the ticket was $41.50.

We took the 6:16 pm train in, and caught the 10:20 pm train back.  Worked out quite well.

Metropolitan Opera – Gluck’s Orfeo ed Euridice. November 7, 2019.

Metropolitan Opera at Lincoln Center.  Balcony (Seat B115, $87.50).

Story.  Euridice dies of a snake bite and her husband Orfeo mourns at the grave.  Amore, god of love, appears and says Orfeo is allowed to go to Hades to retrieve her, with the stipulation that he shall not speak to or look at her.  Euridice is brought to Orfeo in Elysium, and he proceeds to bring her back.  Euridice, not understanding what is going on, panics.  Orfeo turns to see her, and she dies.  As Orfeo is about to kill himself, Amore appears and revives Euridice for the second time.  They return to earth and everyone celebrates.

Conductor – Mark Wiggleworth.  Orfeo – Jamie Barton, Amore – Hera Hyesang Park, Euridice – Hei-Kyung Hong.

The story of Orpheus and Eurydice is a familiar one, although there are several variations.  Unlike the story in this opera, most do not have a happy ending.  Instead of Eurydice coming back to life, Orpheus dies.  There are many “modern” stories with a similar plot, “What Dreams May Come” is a film that comes readily to mind.

The set is quite simple, basically a semi-circular theater with three rows of spectators.  This was turned around to reveal a set of stairs leading from Hades back to the land of the living.  I probably wouldn’t have noticed the “historical” characters had Anne not pointed out the article in the Playbill alluding to that fact.  This set was first used in 2007.  Then it was probably okay to have characters such as Pocahontas on stage, I wonder if there are no “cultural appropriation” charges leveled against the characters nowadays – such are the times we live in.  Regardless, it was fun to try to identify who the characters were, although they are not germane to the story at all.

Indeed, it is noteworthy that the set designers had to use (resort to) this to keep the set interesting.  One can add a lot of embellishment to the basic plot (and many writers have) without sounding superfluous, but Gluck (or rather the librettist Ranieri de’ Calzabigi) decided to make the story as straightforward as it could be, and (I imagine) let the music do the heavy dramatic lifting.

And most of the lifting falls on the shoulders of Orpheus.  I didn’t track the durations, but it won’t surprise me that Orpheus’s singing is more than that of Eurydice and Amore, combined.  Afterall, he is the musician in the group.  In that regard the choice of Jamie Barton as Orpheus is disappointing.  Her singing is solid, but not thrilling.  While enjoyable, it didn’t engage the listener emotionally.  “Che faro senza Euridice” is a simple yet heart-breaking aria; the way Barton did it, it was nothing more than a nice tune.

Hong as Euridice put in a solid performance, and Park provided reasons for the audience to chuckle as Amore.

 The spectators in the theater are "historical" characters.  Interesting but not germane to the story.

The main characters: Euridice (Hong), Orfeo (Barton), Amore (Park) and Wigglesworth.

The Playbill claims the opera is performed without intermission so the full emotional impact could be felt.  Given how little impact it had, I do wonder what it would feel like with an intermission and even less impact.

In all fairness, I was glad to have gone, mostly because of the supposedly significance of this opera in the genre’s history, including the non-traditional way it was written (3 main parts instead of 6, for instance).  In addition, the orchestra and the chorus sounded great.  I also liked the lute (guitar?) episode. Attendance was so-so, we could see many empty seats in the orchestra and the family circle.

I met up with Anne after the NJ Symphony concert, in Hoboken, before taking Bus 126 into New York.

New Jersey Symphony. Xian Zhang – conductor; Ning Feng – violin. November 7, 2019.

Prudential Hall at NJPAC, Newark, NJ.  Orchestra (Seat J107, $25).

Program

Capriccio espangnol, Op. 34 (1887) by Rimsky-Korsakov (1844-1908).

La joie de la souffrance (The Joy of Suffering) for Violin and Orchestra (2016-17) by Chen (b. 1951).

Introduction and Rondo Capriccioso in A Minor, Op. 28 (1863) by Saint-Saens (1835-1921).

Suite No. 2 from El Sombrero de tres picos (The Three-Cornered Hat) (1916-19) by de Falla (1876-1946).

NJSO was offering deeply discounted tickets for this (and the next) concert, so I got tickets for both.  Anne couldn’t make this one, we plan on attending together the one in early December.

The title of the concert is “Spanish- and French-Inspired Showpieces.”  The connection may not be completely obvious for all the pieces on the program.  I will get to those connections in due course.  There probably is no need to further understand the program – it is one of crowd-pleasers, by-and-large.

Rimsky-Korsakov visited Spain only once, but all things Spanish were in vogue at the time he put this to music, which was around the time that he was doing the orchestration for Borodin’s Prince Igor.  Originally Rimsky-Korsakov set out to write a violin fantasy, but settled on this form instead.  That would explain why the concertmaster had to do so many solo passages, some rather challenging technically.  Wyrick managed that without any problems, but could sound quite a bit louder. The piece consists of five movements played without pause: Alborada (Morning Song); Variazioni (Variations); Alborada; Scena e canto Gitano (Scene and Gypsy Song); and Fandango asturiano (Asturian Fandango).  It was a lively performance, and enjoyable, even with the occasional imperfection.

As for the piece by Chen Qigang, the title certainly is French.  A victim of the Cultural Revolution, he didn’t get to start his music education until 1977, and in 1984 went to Paris to become a student of Messiaen (the last one, it turns out).  So it won’t be an exaggeration to say there is much French influence in his music.  There is also a heavy dosage of Chinese in this work.  The Program Notes talks about the use of the old Chinese melody “Yangguan Sandie,” although one could make the case the composition makes use of several other Chinese tunes (perhaps some were invented by Chen).

I jotted down these phrases during the performance: started Chinese enough; moved away after about five minutes; back to a Chinese tune again, this time with flourish; cadenza full of double-stops; slow section with violin and clarinet; at about 17 minutes melody shifts to orchestra; violin has a lot of flourishes; ends calm and quiet.  One thing about Feng’s playing: his intonation was great.

Ning Feng after performing Chen Qigang's Joy of Suffering.

Notice there was no reference about hearing any suffering in my notes, which is interesting as the power of suggestion usually works very effectively on me.  Compared to the Salonen piece Gemini I heard just the day before, Joy of Suffering was much easier to get.  (I realize this is comparing a violin concerto with work for a large orchestra, and Salonen also writes compelling concertos.)

After the intermission, Feng played Saint-Saens Introduction and Rondo.  He had this habit of stressing individual notes that detracted a bit from the otherwise crowd favorite.

Manuel de Falla was one of the composers that lifted the level of Spanish music; his own stated goal was to achieve a comparable legacy to what Grieg did for Norwegian music.  Tonight’s Suite consists of three different dances: The Neighbor’s Dance (Seguidillas); The Miller’s Dance (Farruca), and Final Dance (Jota).  They together constitute the major numbers in the ballet “Three-Cornered Hat.”  Here the power of suggestion was in force: one could definitely feel a strong Spanish component to the tunes.

Zhang and the Orchestra at the end of the concert.  They have a new Principal Bass by the name of Ha Young Jung.  The former principal passed away at the beginning of last season.

This was also a short concert, with the four pieces adding up to about 61 minutes of performance time.

I actually thought to myself this afternoon’s concert (it started at 1:30 pm) was as enjoyable as the one by NY Phil last night.  Perhaps it was not as intellectually stimulating, but sometimes that is a good thing.  Today's audience seemed very enthusiastic, and attendance was okay (still quite a few empty seats).

I took the train to Newark Penn station and NJPAC was about a 10-minute walk from the train station.  The walk to Newark Broad Street Station took me past some abandoned area – I was glad it was early afternoon, in full daylight – there I caught a train to Hoboken to meet up with Anne to go to a Met opera that evening.  That will be the subject of the next blog entry.

New York Philharmonic. Esa-Pekka Salonen – conductor. November 6, 2019.

David Geffen Hall at Lincoln Center.  Orchestra (Seat U1, $54).

Program

Ragtime (Well-Tempered) for Large Orchestra (1921) by Hindemith (1895-1963).

Two Chorale Preludes (ca. 1708-17, revised ca. 1740) by J.S. Bach (1685-1750), orch. A. Schoenberg (1922)

Gemini (2018/19) by Salonen (b. 1958).

Symphony, Mathis der Maler (1934) by Hindemith.

Yesterday (I started writing this on November 7) and the day before I went to two concerts and one opera, so I would have to rush through these reviews before I forget all about the performances.  Realizing this may be a problem, I did jot down a few notes during the concerts, we shall see how helpful they turn out to be.

If anyone had any qualms about the lack of “modern” music in the last NY Phil concert (the NY Times music critic was one), this concert more than made up for it.  Per the Playbill, both Ragtime and Gemini are premiered in this series; Mathis der Maler was last performed by NY Phil in 2002, in Hong Kong; and the Chorale Preludes? March, 1958, more than 60 years ago.  So I dare venture to say most in the audience hadn’t heard any of the pieces before.

The entire program was quite short, with Ragtime at 4 minutes, Chorale Preludes at 7 (played without pause), Gemini at 23, and Mathis der Maler at 25; totaling less than an hour.  The music all looked complex (if the instruments on stage were any hint), and indeed sounded complex.  The orchestra had to have put in much practice time to prepare for it.  And then they can probably forget all about it as they probably will be retired the next time these pieces show up.

Which is what I basically have done with the music.  However, the stories behind them – such as they were – were somewhat intriguing.  A lot of what I am about to jot down is from the Playbill, and Salonen also talked a bit about the genesis of Gemini.

Gemini started with Salonen hearing a post-grunge (whatever that means) tune in a Paris restaurant, the rhythm (he had the bassoon demonstrate it) was used in various tempos throughout Pollux.  Another source was Salonen’s fascination of the lines from “Sonnets to Orpheus” by Rilke: “There rose a tree.  O Pure transcendence! O Orpheus sings! O tall tree in the ear!”  Don’t worry if the lines don’t make sense, they don’t to Salonen either, other than the desire he had to combine art and nature.  As he was writing the music, he found two musical identities (he called that a dichotomy) emerging that couldn’t be combined, and thought of the two main stars (Pollux and Castor) in the Gemini Constellation.  As such Pollux oscillates between cloud-like formations and Castor gesticulates wildly, often in extreme registers.

At this time of the year Gemini shows up late evening, to the left of Orion as they clear the east horizon.  Clearly visible are the two brightest stars; I never learned their names, until now.  The mother of the twins was Leda, and the fathers were a Sparta king (Castor) and Zeus (Pollux). (These Greek myths don’t always make sense.) When Castor as a mortal died in battle, Pollux gave him half of his immortality, so the twins now spend half their time on Mount Olympus and in Hades.  Astronomers have determined that Pollux is the 17^th brightest star and is an evolved orange giant about 34 light-years from the Sun.  Castor is 51 light years away and is actually a sextuplet star system.  It is the 44^th brightest.

Gemini Constellation.  Jupiter being a planet moves in and out of this configuration.

The instrumentation list in the Playbill is quite long, but I could see some percussion instruments, especially the two pairs of drums at the corners.  The piece is undoubtedly technically difficult, just like Salonen’s concertos for the violin and the cello.  However, it was much more difficult to “get”.  Yes, I could listen for the moods as he described them, and could clearly tell when Pollux transitioned to Castor, but I couldn’t gleam any kind of message from the music.  And I felt sorry for the hard work the orchestra had to put in, and the little they had to show for it.  At some point the cellos were furiously pounding away but could barely be heard above the rest of the orchestra.  Even with the rhythmic underpinning demonstrated, I had trouble picking it up during the actual performance.

Hindemith fled Germany in 1938, but he was already blacklisted around 1934, while he was in the process of composing the three-hour opera Mathis der Maler (Matthias the Painter).  He did use some of the material in the crafting of a Symphony of that name that was successfully performed in Berlin.  The work describes several panels the Painter’s Isenheim Altarpiece.  The first movement is designated Engelkonzert (Angelic Concert): In quiet motion – Fairly lively half-notes).  The second movement is Grablegung (Entombment): Very slow.  The last movement is Versuchung des heiligen Antonius (Temptation of St. Anthony): Very slow, not in strict time – Very lively – Slow-lively – Very lively.

Perhaps Hindemith felt a parallel between his life and that of Mathis’s as the latter’s support of the Peasants’ Revolution in Germany during the Reformation caused him the patronage of the Cardinal-Archbishop of Mainz.

In looking up the altarpiece I discovered that I didn’t know as much about altarpieces as I thought I did.  The Isenheim one has leaves that can fold and thus display different paintings.  St. Anthony the Great was a third century Egyptian monk who endured temptation in many different realms.

The piece was reasonably easy to get (with the help of the tempo markings).  The last movement was supposed to be a dream or a hallucination, but not quite at the level of Symphonie Fantastique.

St. Anthony's Temptation in the Isenheim Altarpiece.

The other two pieces have some relationship with Bach, revered by both Schoenberg and Hindemith.  Schoenberg’s chorale preludes were premiered by the NY Phil in 1922, and the Program Notes ran five pages (for seven minutes of music).  The two chorales are “Deck thyself, my soul, with gladness” and “Come God, Creator, Holy Spirit.”  The Playbill contains Schoenberg’s view on the phrasing as 1. To apportion correct relative weights within the lines, 2. At times to reveal the motivic work, at others to obscure it, and 3.  To ensure that each part exercises consideration, in terms of dynamics, for all the other parts, and for the sound as a whole (transparency).  So there is a method to the madness.  While one could definitely tell the orchestration is not by Bach (large orchestra), I couldn’t say it was by Schoenberg as the tunes sounded tonal.  One drawback: the solo passages sounded weak against the orchestra.

Hindemith also revered Bach, and paid homage to him by imagining Ragtime the way Bach might embrace the 20^th century, and how Bach would including the practices of the day if he were to write the Well-Tempered Clavier.  It was a lively and enjoyable 4 minutes.

Salonen and the New York Philharmonic.  Note the two pairs of raised drums in the back.  They were not listed in any of the Instrumentation lists for the pieces performed tonight.

I bought tonight’s ticket through TodayTix at a considerable discount.  I met up with Roger at Cheesequake Rest Area before I caught the 6:16 pm train to NY.  The train was running about 5 minutes late, so I didn’t get to NY Penn until 7:15 pm.  And I had to pick up the ticket at the box office.  All said and done, I made it by about 2 minutes, thanks to the NY Phil tradition of starting a few minutes late.  Dinner was sandwich I brought along.

New Jersey Symphony. Markus Stenz - conductor; Juho Pohjonen - piano. November 2, 2019.

Count Basie Theater, Red Bank, NJ (Rear Orchestra, Seat U116, $36).

Program

“Chaos” from Les Elemens (1737) by Rebel (1666-1747).

Piano Concerto in A Minor, Op. 16 (1868-69, revised through 1907) by Grieg (1843-1907).

Symphony No. 2 in D Major, Op. 73 (1877) by Brahms (1833-1897).

When Lacombe was its music director, I often described the NJSO as a “Jekyll and Hyde” orchestra, doing great when Lacombe was conducting, not so great when guests took the podium.  One thing about the NJSO today, it does quite well under the batons of guest conductors, even in the case of a conductor who was the “lead the music” type.  Today’s performance provided affirmation, for me at least, that orchestras can, and do, improve.

There is no other to describe Jean-Fery Rebel, a French composer, as being obscure.  I had never heard of him, and this NJSO series was the premiere performance of this short piece.  The Program Notes describes Rebel as from a French musical dynasty, and was trained as a violinist and harpsichordist, and a member of the Vingt-quatre Violons du Roy string orchestra.  He composed “Chaos” at age 71 to add to the dance suite Les Elemens.  As the Notes says, the dissonances were revolutionary for the time; however, it is a stretch to say they could have been mistaken for music composed two centuries later.  All in all, it was an interesting piece, although I probably won’t recognize it if I were to listen to it again.

We heard the Grieg piano concerto performed in an NJSO concert about three years ago (October 2016).  My remark about the solo performance was that the soloist could do the melodies and the virtuoso well, but failed to string the passages into a coherent story.  Tonight’s was a completely different experience, instead of moving from highlight to highlight, the performance took the audience on a compelling journey from start to finish.  I do need to analyze the concerto more to catch the Schumann influence, though.

Puhjonen acknowledging the orchestra after Grieg's Piano Concerto.

The name Pohjonen sounded familiar.  He also looked familiar when he came on stage.  I was therefore surprised that I had heard him only once, in 2011, at a Mostly Mozart concert.  He certainly made a lot of improvement in the intervening eight years.  The MM Program Notes described him as “one of the brightest young instrumental talents to emerge from Finland;” today he is “one of today’s most exciting and vibrant instrumentalist.”  I have no quarrel with that.

I am quite familiar with Brahms’s second symphony and thus had a favorite “interpretation” in mind.  Tonight’s performance didn’t quite follow that script, but was nonetheless enjoyable.

This was Stenz’s conducting debut with the NJSO.  As remarked at the beginning of this entry, he certainly pulled it off.  He was quite energetic, and his “lead the beat” style resulted in some minor precision problems, but the orchestra responded very well to his direction.

Stenz and the NJSO.

We were seated in the rear orchestra section, but had a good view of the stage.  The attendance was quite good at this level, I wonder what it was like in the balcony.

New York Philharmonic. Philippe Jordan – conductor; Julia Fischer – violin. October 31, 2019.

David Geffen Hall at Lincoln Center.  (Orchestra 3, Seat HH105, $46.50).

Program

Symphony No. 1 in D major, Op. 25, Classical (1916-17) by Prokofiev (1891-1953).

Concerto in E minor for Violin and Orchestra, Op. 64 (1844) by Mendelssohn (1809-47).

Symphony No. 7 in A major, Op. 92 (1811-12) by Beethoven (1770-1827).

Just as with the NJ Symphony concert a few weeks ago, I was looking forward to this first NY Phil concert we were about to attend.  I was not quite sure what to make of the Program.  Both the Mendelssohn and Beethoven pieces are staples of the concert repertoire.  I don’t recall having heard the Prokofiev symphony live before, but it is on one of the CDs in our car, and gets played quite often (more because we have only a couple of CDs in the car than anything else), and it is a short and pleasant composition.

Prokofiev’s first symphony was written when Prokofiev was a student at the St. Petersburg Conservatory, and “would earn an enduring spot in the orchestral repertoire … and in the history books as a forebear of the widespread neoclassicism of the 1920s.”  The short symphony (less than 15 minutes) consists of Allegro con brio, Larghetto, Gavotte: Non troppo allegro, and Finale: Molto vivace.

If one had listened to one version of performance many times, that version tends to be the standard by which other performances are measured.  But that’s not what I came away with at all with this delightful, fast, and light-hearted rendition.  The orchestra sounded precise and crisp, just like how Mozart would have wanted it.  After listening to this piece I was ready to settle in for an enjoyable evening of familiar music.

(I did hear this performed by NJ Symphony a couple of years ago, with Zhang conducting, and liked that performance too.)

Julia Fischer’s name is very familiar.  A search of my blog returned only one instance where I heard her perform, and that was in 2008, when she was in her twenties.  The aspect about her that was special was that she’s both a concert violinist and concert pianist, and was at that time the youngest professor at some school.  Interestingly, that was the only concert of hers that I had ever attended.

More than ten years down the road, that’s still her career path.  And by all indications tonight she could get most of Mendelssohn right, one could quibble with the interpretation (e.g., tempo), the occasional off-pitch here, or that some notes were played too softly, but it was a well-done performance.  That Mendelssohn’s concerto highlights the melodic and technical skills of the violinist, and she took advantage of it.

Fischer and Jordan after performance of Mendelssohn's Violin Concerto.

How does one distinguish between a tier 1 level soloist and a superstar?  She didn’t come across as such tonight, perhaps it was the occasional mistake, or the inability to engage the audience more, or may be it was simply projecting an aura of confidence.  I don’t know if it would make her a superstar in the instrument, but I would say trying to straddle both the violin and piano may not get her there.  Even though a typical soloist does only a few pieces per season, one still has to live and breathe the art day in and day out.  What you want to be able do with a violin is quite different from with a piano (e.g., latter has no pitch issues, and interval jumps are done very differently).  Not that any one needs any advice from me, but I wanted to write down this observation.

She performed Paganini's Caprice 24 as an encore piece.  It was well done, but not quite up to how Hadelich did it a few years back, which I described as "perfect."

Frank Huang stayed for the Mendelssohn.  I do wonder if he sometimes should excuse himself as I am sure many (some?) in the audience were wondering if he could do a better job.

Many people think of the film Immortal Beloved when it comes to Beethoven’s Seventh Symphony, specifically the slow movement.  It indeed is one of the more lovely movements in the repertoire, conjuring up thoughts of regret, introspection, and longing.  However, it would be unfortunate not to appreciate the other movements which are not as “sturm und drang” and Beethoven’s odd-numbered symphonies.  I very much enjoyed the piece.

Curtain Call after Beethoven's Seventh Symphony.

We last saw Philippe Jordan conducting the Met’s Ring Cycle in the spring.  Today we had a good view of the stage, and noticed that he conducted with a lot of energy and movement.

Here is the New York Times review.

Today’s is Halloween, so we left candy outside our door for the late trick or treaters, and I was surprised at how many people were out and about around the Lincoln Center area.  A block of 69^th was dedicated to pedestrians.  I, for one, can’t understand the point of walking around in a costume.