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.