New York Philharmonic. Gustavo Dudamel, conductor. March 19, 2026.

David Geffen Hall, Lincoln Center, New York.  Orchestra (Seat W109, $96).

Dudamel, Merriweather, Lang, Barron and Tines.

Program

the wealth of nations (2025) by Lang (b. 1957).

Artists

Fleur Barron, mezzo-soprano; Davone Tines, bass-baritone

New York Philharmonic Chorus, Malcolm J. Merriweather, director.

Starting in September, Dudamel, after a wait of several years (he was announced as the Music Director in February 2023), will become the actual Music Director of New York Philharmonic.  Everything the organization does nowadays has been to play this up.  The series renewal package I received in the mail recently has him prominently figured on the cover, ads about his Radio City Music Hall are plastered all over town (well, around the Lincoln Center area anyway), and - as far as I can tell - even the logo, now just New York Philharmonic in plain letters, has been changed to usher in the new era. And what is the new purple color that seems to have been adopted.  Despite all that,  I do look forward to seeing how the orchestra would change because of new music leadership.

Having said all that, I still find today's concert a bit puzzling when I was first found out about it.  I haven't read the book by Adam Smith, and have no intention to read it; I do know it is about capitalism and its underlying principles.  How does one turn that topic into a musical composition?  It's like setting algebra or Riemannian geometry into music.  Actually the abstraction behind mathematics may work better, in my opinion.  Perhaps an economics or political science student will find much excitement in a tome extolling capitalism and free markets, most people would find the principles dry, whether they agree with them or not.  That same indifference would carry over to the musical version of the book.

I had a dialog with Gemini AI and am quite impressed with how much it knows about this work.  (To pass along the disclaimer: there may be mistakes in the results.)

First was whether Dudamel had a hand in getting this work commissioned.  By all indications he did, although David Lang probably was working on this before Dudamel was named the Music Director (designate).  Some of the libretto used sounded like a condensate of Smith's ideas, but Gemini insists that they are taken verbatim from the book.  Gemini quoted a few examples, and I go along with it.  Words by Frederick Douglas (a social reformer and abolitionist), Eugene Debs (socialist) and others were interwoven into the libretto to provide a counter-argument and balance.  I didn't get the feeling Lang was trying to negate all of Smith's thinking, but the fact that the seventeenth movement, dedicated to the speech Debs made before he was sentenced, was the longest, speaks to where Lang leans in this spectrum.  Dudamel has been quite adept at staying out of politics or policy, so I wonder whether he had much input into the messaging.

It is Lang himself who compares his work with probably the best known oratorio: Handel's Messiah.  There is a "sinfony" and a "pifa" at the beginning and the middle, for instance.  I am thankful for one major difference: the "wealth of nations" is much shorter at about 70 minutes.  And what is all this "no capital letters" anyway?  I have made similar remarks about other composers who try to name their works in an unusual way: pretentiousness is a poor look, especially if the product doesn't justify it.

I guess it's the same pretentiousness (chutzpah may be a better description) to think something like this can be pulled off.  Ironically, I feel the music can stand on its own (not sure what libretto could be used, any Greek mythology would do).  There are contrasts, climaxes, a nice melody here and there; and the orchestra, chorus, and soloists certainly produced a great sound.  And if you are into minimalist music (Gemini calls Lang a post-minimalist) you may actually appreciate what's been achieved.  With the words projected above the stage, however, you may end up scratching you head the whole 70 minutes, most of it anyway.

A solid group of musicians.

When I looked at the NY Phil webpage to find the Program Notes, I noticed that rush tickets would be available for today's performance.  I was surprised that the pull of Dudamel and the novelty of the oratorio were not able to pull off a full house (altogether there are four performances).  Indeed there were scattered empty seats in the auditorium this evening.

Vienna Philharmonic. Andris Nelsons, conductor. March 1, 2026.

Carnegie Hall, New York.  Dress Circle (Seat DD30, $135).

After performing Strauss's Also Sprach Zarathustra.  The concertmaster had quite a workout during the violin solo.

Program

Also Sprach Zarathustra, Op. 30 (1896) by Strauss (1864-1949).

Symphony No. 2 in D Major, Op. 43 (1901-02) by Sibelius (1865-1957).

I have mixed feelings about the program for today.  On the one hand, it's good to have an opportunity to hear a world-renowned orchestra perform two definitive pieces composed at the turn of the 20th century.  On the other hand, one wonders why an organization with such a reputation would go with two standard "warhorses" from the period.  To be fair, the orchestra had a series of concerts during this visit, and one should look at the totality to assess the overall program.  But I suspect few in the audience had tickets to multiple concerts.

With that said, I was looking forward to the concert.  There is something to be said about listening to two familiar works that are "soul-stirring."  To the superficial listener, Strauss's first "movement" is worth the price of admission, and the last movement of Sibelius is so filled with tension that it's always nice to sit through.

The unfortunate fact is the concert didn't deliver much beyond the simple take-aways I listed above.  Was it a good concert?  Of course.  The parts were easy to discern, the contrasts were clear, the sounds were crisp, the soloists were impressive (though some could be louder for those in the upper reaches of the auditorium).  Yet I was listening to the performance, and wasn't in the middle of it.

Strauss's Also Sprach Zarathustra is a tone poem based on Nietzsche's novel where he introduces his key concepts like the "death of God," the "Superman" as a human ideal, and the "will to power."  (Quoting from what Google tells me.)  Even after hearing the piece many times, I still can't grasp which of Nietzsche's concepts are being put to music.  I have always found it somewhat unfortunate that the dramatic part is concentrated in the first couple of minutes, even though one can the subsequent passages are a lot more thought-provoking (even without being sure what thoughts are being provoked).  I did learn in this hearing that the violin solo occurs in "The Dance Song."

I heard the Sibelius symphony performed by the New York Philharmonic a few months back (November 2025).  While I don't remember much of the actual performance, I did describe it in glowing terms.  I am quite sure I won't use similarly glowing terms for tonight's performance.  That doesn't mean I didn't enjoy it, though.  Indeed the coda was very satisfying.

Sibelius produced interesting and full orchestral sounds without using an organ and many percussion instruments.  (The organ wasn't removed during intermission.)

Anne couldn't come, so I exchanged her ticket.  The person who bought the ticket said Anne missed a great concert.  I am not sure I would go that far.

I took the train to Penn Station and walked to/from Carnegie Hall.  On the way back I stopped by Shake Shack for a burger.

Opera Australia. Puccini's Turandot. February 21, 2026.

Joan Sutherland Theatre at Sydney Opera House.  Circle (Seat H16, A$206).

Story.  See previous post.

Conductor - Nicolas Milton; Turandot - Anna-Louise Cole, Calaf - Diego Torre, Liu - Jennifer Black, Timor - Richard Anderson.

Note: there are cast changes in this production that I didn't copy down.

Opera Australia is making it a big deal that this is a new production of Turandot.  It is certainly new, but is it something worth raving about?

In the last blog entry, I talked about appropriateness of making the production and cast look Asian/Japanese.  For today, the questions are reversed.

I had a long "discussion" with Google's Gemini on the transformation that's happening in OA, and how Madama Butterfly and Turandot represent respectively the old and the new schools.

With Ann Yee as the director and choreographer, one may think OA wanted the appropriate level of cultural sensitivity in the new production.  (I know such a statement is problematic for some people.)  I have no idea exactly what she intended to do, but the end result - to me at least - is a production that tries to erase as much cultural reference as possible.  In the Director's Notes article, Yee starts by asking the question "Why is a 100 year old opera relevant?"  Since she stated that she didn't know about the opera until 2022, I guess she wasn't into operas until recently as Turandot must be one of the most popular operas.  I remember seeing it recently at the Met, Deutsche Oper Berlin, and Berlin State. And in Sydney in 2012.  With all due respect to her intelligence and credentials, I venture to guess she hasn't gotten all the reasons people go to operas.

For me the most important reasons are to enjoy good music and a good story, everything else is close to being irrelevant, and to elevate "secondary objectives" above those fundamental reasons is not doing the opera and the audience justice.

Let's talk about the production.  One word to describe it: minimalist.  We have basically four walls (well, technically three), with a "slab" in the middle on a rotating platform.  The slab further articulates and forms what is close to a palace (or rather a throne).  Evidently the walls symbolize oppression, but who is being oppressed?  Somewhat akin to my point about Pinkerton being the victim in Butterfly, Turandot is the victim here, or so the argument goes.  One benefit of such a sparse set is that sound gets reflected into the audience: the singers sounded a lot louder.

There is a large chorus, and a children's chorus.  They do quite a bit of singing, and projected quite well.  I was not paying attention to how fickle the populace was (from demanding a head to pleading for mercy), and I wasn't hit with it either.  As to the non-period costumes the chorus members wear?  My first thought was they were purchased on sale at K-mart.  Yes, K-mart is still a thing in Australia.  And after having thought about that some more, I still think so.

The great "innovation" in this production is the introduction of Luo-Ling, Turandot's ancestor whose horrible fate was the reason Turandot was who she was.  That's part of the story is a bit of a stretch as Luo-Ling was supposed to pre-date Turandot by 2000 years.  For someone unfamiliar with the story, Luo-Ling's appearance is inexplicable.  For someone who knows the story, it was a couple of minutes of useless theater.  She was at least dressed in period costume, so that's a plus,.

The three characters Ping, Pong, and Pang (I agree the names are a bit offensive) are also called P1, P2 and P3 in this production.  They are hapless computer/coding nerds, which doesn't add anything to the story.  In the original form they are at least comical (which may, again, be a problem this day and age).  There is no attempt to make the principals look Asian: Turandot has blonde hair, for instance.

All that detracted from some solid singing by the cast.  Liu was captivating in both "Signore, ascolta" and  "Tu che di gel sei cinta." Calaf's voice could be stronger, but the rendition of "Nessun Dorma" was good, and he managed the high note effortlessly.

It's difficult to be managing an opera house nowadays (especially if the manager is incompetent).  OA suffered the loss of both its CEO and Artistic Director over the last year or so.  Unless the Board is strong and unified, there must be a lot of different visions being debated.  Speaking selfishly, I hope the vision that led to this production of Turandot wanes.  A few years ago I consider OA a strong company in the forefront of the operatic world.  Recently I am more inclined to think of it's muddled direction to be similar to the of the Metropolitan Opera, but without the household-named talent.

Will I try to catch more shows next time I visit?  Yes.  Will I go out of my way to see them?  Not so sure.

Opera Australia. Puccini's Madama Butterfly. February 20, 2026.

Joan Sutherland Theatre, Sydney Opera House.  Circle (Seat C7, A$206).

Story.  See prior post.

Conductor - Irina Yashima; Cio-Cio-San - Vittoria Yeo, Suzuki - Sian Sharp, Pinkerton - Oreste Cosimo, Sharpless - Luke Gabbedy, Goro - Michael Petruccelli, Bonze - Gennadi Dubinsky.

We are in the Sydney area for a week starting 2/17, and for logistics reasons I wanted to see two operas on consecutive days.  (I am staying at my sister's place in the suburbs, and plan to stay two nights closer to town to minimize travel time.)  One combination that would work would be Madama Butterfly for today, and Turandot the next.  Both classics by Puccini, so one can argue for and against such a plan.  But that's the plan we made.

Going over my blog entries, I last saw this opera in Sydney in 2006, 20 years ago.  I didn't take any photographs after the performance, so can say only the set looked very familiar.  In any case, the set is quite simple, basically a platform set above a pool of water, with shades and walkways as needed.  It was mainly Butterfly's living quarters.  The Met productions I have seen have Butterfly committing suicide off-stage (in a garden perhaps), in this production she does it in the room, in front of the audience, with Pinkerton shouting her name off stage as she lies dying.  Nothing wrong with that.  To be a bit macabre, she cut her neck instead of performing seppuku (which is in the "script," and the dagger was used by her father for the same act).

Another notable difference was there was minimal dancing during the breaks between Acts and Scenes.  20 years ago someone slipped - probably on one of the rose petals - and I assume they decided to keep the flower petals and eliminate the dancing.  One consequence was that the intermezzos felt a bit long.

Cultural norms also changed quite a bit over twenty years.  The opera portrays a woman as being completely dependent on a man for her welfare, and the story ends terribly.  The man, on the other hand, only had to show a bit of remorse.  (I always wonder why Pinkerton isn't booed at curtain call.)

I am expecting to read any day now an article on how Pinkerton actually is the misunderstood victim in all this.  He just lived his life like any other American sailor at that time, but he alone got skewered for it.  Guess what, I just googled "Madama Butterfly Pinkerton as the victim," and quite a few results were returned.

Another issue that is much debated today is cultural appropriation.  I am quite confused here, is it okay to make westerners appear Asian, so they are (slightly) more credible as a Japanese maid (for instance, Suzuki)? Or we should just let the singers "be," or should we not stage anything until all the roles can be filled by appropriate ethnic characters?  And, is it okay to have a Korean singer as Cio-Cio-San (one could argue that's even worse: all Asians look the same).  One thing that's for sure: today many actors were made up to appear Asian.

But, you say, the conductor is Japanese.  Wikipedia describes her as a German conductor.  She is the daughter of Japanese immigrants to Germany, and is now the assistant conductor at Philadelphia Orchestra.  So to some people she is still not good enough.

All this is noise, what matters is whether one can look beyond these issues and enjoy the work on its terms.

I had a long chat with Gemini on this issue, and I am still confused. One thing I learned was this set was first used in 1999, so it is a bit long on the tooth.  And that the lack of solid reflective surfaces (and water) made projection the voice quite challenging.  (One can look at the photo for a better understanding.) That would explain why the singing sounded on the weak side.  There is some kind of a sound enhancement system since 2006, didn't seem to help much today.

The photo also shows two of the several (5?) figures covered in white.  They move around, sometimes carrying various objects.  I still couldn't figure out what they were - they were the dancers during the intervals in my prior encounter.  Gemini's answer is that that are "koken," usually dressed in black to be invisible as they perform their stage management tasks.

A few minutes before curtain.  The performance is well-attended.

The carpet inside the Theatre looked a bit worn.  Reminds me of the staircases at the Met.

Even though the story is familiar, it remains compelling.  The overall experience was quite good.  Or I hadn't seen an opera for a while - perhaps Glimmerglass last summer?

Budapest Festival Orchestra. Ivan Fischer, conductor. February 7, 2026.

Carnegie Hall, New York.  Dress Circle (Seat DD32, $65).

Program

Symphony No. 3 in D Minor (1893-1896; rev. 1905) by Mahler (1860-1911).

Part I

     Kraftig.  Entschieden.  

     (Powerful.  Decided.)

Part II

     Tempo di menuetto: Sehr Massig.  

     (In minuet tempo: Very moderate.)

     Comodo.  Scherzando.  Ohne Hast.  

     (Comodo.  Scherzando.  Without haste.)

     "O Mensch! Gib acht!": Sehr langsam.  Misterioso - 

     ("Oh man!  Take heed!": Very slow.  Mysterious -)

     "Es sungen drei Engel": Lustig im Tempo und keck im Ausdruck - 

     ("Three angels were singing": Gay in tempo and bold in expression -)

     Langsam.  Ruhevoll.  Empfunden.

     (Slow.  Restful.  Heartfelt.)

Artists

Gerhild Romberger, mezzo-soprano

Trebles of Westminster Symphonic Choir - Donald Nally, director.

Young People's Chorus of New York City - Elizabeth Nunez, director.

Curtain Call.  To the right of Fischer are Romberger and the directors of the choirs.  Notice how the double basses are spread out: 4 in the middle, 2 on each side.

I thought of a new way to characterize what makes a concert "good" in my view.  A good concert is one where I appreciate how the musicians do their jobs, and how I am engaged with trying to understand how the piece is put together.  A great concert, on the other hand, pulls me into the music so I will be on the same journey as the musicians.  When did I realize this?  When I was listening to tonight's performance.  How did the thought come about?  When I could find no fault with what I was hearing, and even enjoying seeing how the different sections played, but yet didn't feel much beyond "good music played by competent musicians."  My standard for this Mahler symphony is the Mehta/LA Phil concert of 2023, an event I characterized as being near perfect.  Romberger also sang at that performance; she was called an alto then.

This isn't the first time I observed the clinical cleanness of the Carnegie sound working to the performers' disadvantage.  The voices didn't blend in as well as they should, in my view.  Of course that cleanness also made it easy to tell which section (or individual) was playing.  The size of the orchestra was considerable; I counted 16 first violins, 10 cellos, two sets of timpani, and 6 additional percussionists.  There were brass and percussion off-stage.  One stage door would be partly open when the off-stage instruments were playing.  The choirs were also large, about 40 members each.

A minor point I noticed - and don't remember reading anywhere before - is that there is a progression in the order of the last five movements: flowers, animals, humans, angels, and love.  I assume Mahler had to be intentional in how he constructed the order of the movements.  Mahler once said inspiration was so plentiful around the Austrian countryside that he could pick up melodies from the ground.  (I guess Beethoven did the same, but his melodies are a lot more hummable.)  How he decided whether the melody is a "flower" talking rather than an "angel" singing, I wouldn't know.  In any case, he withdrew the "program" eventually.

When Anne said the music sounded very familiar, I told her it was probably because the timpani at times sounded like what is in Strauss's Also Sprach Zarasthustra, or that Mahler often utilized instruments off-stage.  Turns out we heard this at the BBC PROMS last year.  She remembers, and I had forgotten.  I did call that performance "good,"  but it clearly got displaced in my mind in about half a year.  (Of course this also speaks to the state of my mind.)

We met up with Ellie's family and some friends earlier today for lunch at American Dream, afterwards we just stayed in Hoboken before taking the bus to New York.  Things were smooth both ways, and we got home at around 11:30 pm.  If we had taken the train in, it would be about 12:15 am for us to get in.

New Jersey Symphony Orchestra. Xian Zhang, conductor. January 31, 2026.

Count Basie Center for the Arts, Red Bank, New Jersey.  Balcony (Seat G111, $52).

Program - Romeo & Juliet

Romeo and Juliet Fantasy Overture (1869-70, rev. 1880) by Tchaikovsky (1840-1893).

Selections from Romeo and Juliet, Suites Nos. 1, 2, and 3 (1935-1936) by Prokofiev (1891-1953).

The Shakespeare Theatre of New Jersey, Brian B. Crowe, artistic director.

Romeo & Juliet are to the right of Zhang (left in photo).  Brian Crowe to her left.

I consider myself fairly familiar with the musical forms of Romeo and Juliet.  That would include opera (by Gounod) and ballet (Prokofiev); and I have listened to Tchaikovsky's Fantasy Overture a few times over the years.  So I didn't bother with the Program Notes before the concert, which was fine as the Program Notes do not add a lot more to my understanding of the two pieces.  But I was surprised at how much I enjoyed the concert, even though my initial reaction was at best neutral.

Given the number of times I have heard Tchaikovsky's Fantasy Overture, I didn't expect how unfamiliar it sounded at the beginning.  Of course there were passages and themes I remembered well, perhaps simply because they are so hummable.  The complaint about the precision of the musicians is withdrawn for this performance, they did admirably on that count.  The dynamic range, however, still could have been wider.  It was a satisfying performance, nonetheless.  The "love theme" is of course the most popular.  The Program Notes describes it as consisting of two segments, one for Romeo, and one for Juliet.  I had always heard it as one unified theme, and tonight was no exception.  Need to study more.

After performing the Tchaikovsky Fantasy Overture.  The sets used for the Prokofiev piece were already set up on stage.

Prokofiev's ballet Romeo and Juliet is quite popular, and it's 2 1/2 hours long.  To pique people' interest, and to create an audience demand for the full ballet, Prokofiev pulled some movements together (with modifications), and made them into Suites for the Orchestra.  Why he ended up with three suites?  I don't know.  The movements in the Suites do not follow exactly the flow of the story.  A prominent example would be the Suite movement "Montagues and Capulets," which is an amalgam of two different movements (the two families were introduced at different points in the ballet).  To make things even more unnecessarily complicated, many conductors decide to pull movements from different Suites to make up a performance.  For this series, the movements are "Montagues and Capulets," "Minuet/Arrival of the Guests," "Masks," "Madrigal," "Death of Tybalt," "Romeo and Juliet Before Parting," "Romeo at Juliet's Grave," and "Death of Juliet." 

There is mention of characters in the play in today's Program.  I naturally assumed ballet dancers would perform to the movements selected for this evening.  So when those characters began speaking, I realized that I got it wrong: it would be spoken dialog and acting - against simplified props.  My first thought was "this isn't going to work."  And I was wrong.  It worked quite well.  Most of the time the music was played in between scenes where the actors had dialogs, a notable exception being the fight scene (if I remember correctly).  Shakespeare English is difficult for me, but the story is familiar enough that I was readily drawn into the emotions of the moment.  After all, I can sit through hours-long German operas without English surtitles.  In the dialog we also heard well-known quote from the play such as "a rose by any other name ..." and "parting is such sweet sorrow."

Kudos to the Shakespeare Theatre of New Jersey.  And to this innovative adaptation of two famous works (the music and the play).

Orchestra at conclusion of Prokofiev.  The actors would come out later.

Attendance was okay, and the applause was great for a typical NJ Symphony audience.  The artists meant to come out for a second curtain call, but decided to withdrew as the applause didn't quite sustain the appreciative atmosphere for them to do so.

As I left the theater I found myself humming a tune, and it was the love theme from the earlier piece.

This area is hit with a prolonged cold snap (perhaps 3 weeks by the time it is done), and it was around 10F when we left the theater.  There was no wind, so it was quite okay with our heavier coats on.

New York Philharmonic. Xian Zhang, conductor; Yefim Bronfman, piano. January 16, 2026.

David Geffen Hall at Lincoln Center.  Orchestra (Seat AA104, $87).

Bronfman and Zhang after performance of Schumann's Piano Concerto.

Program

Landscape Impression (2023) by Chen (b. 1953).

Piano Concerto in A minor, Op. 54 (1841-45) by R. Schumann (1810-56).

Symphony No. 2 in C minor, Op. 17 (1872; 1879-80) by Tchaikovsky (1840-93).

A keen observer will notice some overlap between last Friday's NJSO concert and this NY Phil concert: same conductor, and one piece in common.  I was quite curious to see if there is daylight between my "hometown" orchestra (well, more like my home state) and one of the better known orchestras in the world.  Same conductor, same piece, what better comparison can there be?

This comparison would have been unthinkable say 15 years ago, a time when I described the NJSO as a "Jekyll and Hyde" ensemble, depending on who was doing the conducting.  This is much less so nowadays, although the orchestra every now and then would disappoint.  As it did last Friday.

Before I launch into the Tchaikovsky, let me first talk about the two other pieces.

We missed the premiere of Chen Yi's piece with NJ Symphony in early June, 2023.  It was commissioned by the NJ Symphony with Zhang at the helm.  Su Shi, a well-known Chinese poet, wrote two different poems in the 1070s (yes, about a thousand years ago) called Landscape and The West Lake, both describing the famous lake near Hangzhou.  The former painted a stormy scene, and the latter a serene one.  Chen combined (and intermixed) the images in this 10-minute composition.  While it was written for a Western orchestra, many elements of Chinese composition (e.g., echoes of Chinese music instruments, melodic arcs).

I caught some of the Chinese elements in the music.  But the landscape was more difficult to pin down.  I visited the West Lake once, on a nice day, where people enjoyed themselves by the lake shore, in boats on the lake, or along footpaths with blossoming shrubs (Osmanthus).  The calm sections didn't remind me of that short experience.  In any case, things may have changed a bit over the last millennium. 

Chen has a compelling life story.  Born in 1953, hers was the generation that had their high school and university education interrupted by (or even lost to) the Cultural Revolution.  She managed to maintain and hone her craft during those difficult years.  She now lives in Kansas City, Missouri.

Chen's Landscape Impression led the program this afternoon.

The Schumann piano concerto is always enjoyable when played well (perhaps it doesn't even have to be played that well).  Bronfman as usual put in an excellent performance.  For encore he played Arabeske in C Major, Op. 18, also by Schumann (thanks Google for identifying the piece).  Although Bronfman grew up in Israel, he was born in today's Uzbekistan.  So perhaps there is a strong tradition of classical music in that part of the world after all.

Now to the Tchaikovsky, and mostly about how NJSO compares with NY Phil.  There certainly was a lot of daylight between the two, one might even go as far as saying day and night - but I won't.  An observation that pains me.  The major distinction was how precise the performance was.  The large number of instruments increased the volume of the sound, but not how chaotic the sections sounded.  Certainly the NJSO musicians are capable of pulling the piece off.  After all, one of them played as a temp today, and the solo horn sounded equally solid in NJSO's performance; but they couldn't begin and end at the same exact moments.  To be charitable, NJSO does not do as many concerts (not even half the number) as NY Phil, so the musicians have less time to do music together.

The conductor was the same for both performances, so I assume she worked equally well with both orchestras.  Zhang worked a few years with NY Phil assisting Loren Maazel about 20 years ago; and she has been with NJSO for 10 years.  Somewhere I read (probably in then Avery Fisher Hall) the conductor adds about 10% to the performance; that would imply the difference was in the orchestras. NJSO still has a long way to go yet.

Actually even the Program Notes made quite a difference in my appreciation of the piece.  The NJSO notes doesn't go beyond mentioning that Ukrainian melodies are used in three of the four movements.  The NY Phil notes, however, gives brief descriptions of the three - and that made a ton of difference in my understanding of the piece.

Musicians from different sections being acknowledged by Zhang after the Tchaikovsky Symphony.

These points came to me only afterwards.  I just sat there and enjoyed the piece as it was performed.

And I continue to wish NJSO great success.