David Geffen Hall at Lincoln Center. Orchestra (Seat BB103, $59).
Deneve and Thibaudet after performance of Khachaturian's Piano Concerto. To the right of Deneve is the musician who played the musical saw (his name is not on the program).
Program
Icarus (2006, rev. 2011) by Auerbach (b. 1973).
Concerto for Piano and Orchestra in D-flat major, Op. 38 (1936) by Khachaturian (1903-78).
Cantus Arcticus, Concerto for Birds and Orchestra, Op. 61 (1972) by Rautavaara (1928-2016).
Pini di Roma (Pines of Rome) (1923-24) by Respighi (1879-1936).
When the concert began, the conductor Deneve spoke for a few minutes. A couple of interesting points were made: one is the use of an "augmented" orchestra in all four pieces. For Icarus, it's the theramin for which hand movements control the pitch and volume. Khachaturian uses a musical saw in its second movement. Both instruments have an eerie quality to them. Bird songs are used for the Rautavaara and Respighi pieces. For Rautavaara it's taped birdsong; for Respighi it's the singing of a nightingale played on a circa 1909 phonograph (this from the Program Notes). The other interesting remark he made was that JY Thibaudet is the most American of French pianists.
Except for Lera Auerbach's piece, all the pieces were written in the 20th century. While the program is by no means traditional, I walked away thinking I enjoyed it mostly with my right brain, as I didn't spend much time trying to analyze the music; that was a pleasant surprise.
Icarus is the boy who flew too close to the sun, and the Program Notes describes it as such. Without commenting on how the music felt (since I have already forgotten the few adjectives I thought of while listening to it), I remember telling myself this doesn't sound like Icarus at all. In her description of the work, Auerbach maintains that her music is abstract, and she hears her music differently every time she listens to it. Icarus was what it felt like when she gave the piece its title. How giving the piece a name helps with her desire that the listener imagines the music freely escapes me.
We had one prior encounter with Auerbach's work before, in 2017. It was a violin concerto, considerably longer, and I described it as atonal. Yet I said I would love to hear it again (of course I haven't). I can make a similar remark in this instance.
Auerbach looks very different today that the photo of her from 8 years ago.
Sheryl Staples was the concertmaster this evening. After performance of Icarus composed by Auerbach.
Auerbach came on stage for curtain call.
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When I hear the name Khachaturian, I think "Sabre Dance." The Program Notes describes his piano concerto as being influenced by Caucasus, Armenian, and Georgian folk music, and that Khachturian called the piece "the first national piano concerto." To appreciate this one needs to be both an ethnomusicologist and a historian of the area; I am neither. As a first time listener, I would simply call it an exhilarating ride of virtuosity. Very enjoyable ride, at that. Thibaudet played an encore. He announced it, but no one around me could make out what he said. There was no cell service at my seat, so Google couldn't help.
The Program Notes provides an outline as presented by Khachaturian. The three movements are Allegro ma non troppo e maestoso, Andante con anima, and Allegro brillante. The musical saw was used in the second movement; the musician provided an excellent counterpoint to the pianist. I have no idea how difficult the instrument is to play, but good ears must be a requirement.
With his patterned jacket, Anne said Thibaudet made her think of Liberace. I thought he looked like a more subdued, male, and older version of Yuja Wang.
Our prior encounter with Rautavaara's piece was 19 years ago, in Hong Kong. This is NY Phil's first performance of the piece - go figure. I was dismissive of the piece 19 years ago, and am still somewhat dismissive of it after the second hearing. As described in the Program Notes, the work involves three slow movements. The composer's instruction for the first movement (The Bog) was to "think of autumn and of Tchaikovsky." I guess that leaves a wide range of possibilities for interpretation. The second and final movements (Melancholy and Swans Migrating) supposedly start with extended birdcalls - which I didn't get. There are also other subtleties that I could neither understand, nor hear. An example would be "the orchestra is divided into four groups of different sonorities ... but the groups themselves are not always strictly synchronized." But the piece did make some sense to me, which is an improvement over my experience from 19 years ago - if my writeup is any indication.
Rautavaara's piece called for taped birdcalls. This photo was taken after the piece. The phonograph at the back was used in Respighi's Pines or Rome.
My blog entries contain references to Respighi's Fountains of Rome and Roman Festival, but not to Pines of Rome. Anne is quite sure we had heard it before, in Tanglewood specifically. As with Fountains, here in the course of 20 or so minutes Respighi painted four scenes: The Pines of the Villa Borghese, The Pines Near a Catacomb, The Pines of the Janiculum, and The Pines of the Appian Way. There must be many ways to put in music one's perception of different scenes, so I am in no position to say whether the sceneries were described properly. In any case, other than a quick visit to Villa Borghese and some idea of the Appian Way, I don't know much about Roman scenery. "A nightingale sings" at the end of the third movement. The music for the last movement certainly evoked images of soldiers marching towards the listener. As a student of Rimsky-Korsakov, Respighi's ability for great orchestra colors was highlighted in this piece.
The tickets for tonight were bought at a 35% discount. Chung Shu joined us. We took the train from NJ (he started in Hazlet) and had dinner at Legend 72 before.
