Symphony Review: Tessa Lark comes out on top in soloist reshuffle

Two weeks ago The St. Louis Symphony Orchestra got hit with what must be every professional orchestra’s headache: the sudden cancellation of a featured soloist due to illness. What made it a full-on migraine was the fact that the soloist, violinist Nicola Benedetti, was scheduled for a two-week residency during which she would play two violin concertos written for her and first performed by her: one by James MacMillan (who also conducted the first of the two concerts) and one by Benedetti’s husband Wynton Marsalis.

[Find out more about the music with my symphony preview.]

For the February 10th and 11th concerts the SLSO elected to substitute Mendelssohn’s “Hebrides” Overture rather than engage a new soloist on such short notice. This past weekend (February 18th and 19th), with SLSO Music Director Stéphane Denève at the podium, there was both a replacement soloist—the Grammy-nominated Tessa Lark—and not one but two works for violin and orchestra: the “Poème” Op. 25 by Ernest Chausson (1855–1899) and “Tzigane” by Maurice Ravel (1875–1937).

The bad news is that we’ll have to wait until a future date to see Benedetti perform both works live with the SLSO. The good news is that Lark’s performance was stunning and that the substitutions resulted in a program entirely by French composers that was also international in scope.

Allow me to explain.

It began with the “Marche écossaise sur un théme populaire” (“Scottish march on a popular theme”) by Claude Debussy (1862–1918). Originally written for two pianos and later orchestrated by the composer, the “Marche ecossaise” was commissioned by a man Debussy believed to be a Scottish General but who was, in fact, an American diplomat. In any case, this entertaining if trifling mix of the Gallic and the Caledonian is great fun to hear, especially when preceded by a performance of the original march by local bagpipe virtuoso Chris Apps.

Chris Apps

Decked out in traditional Highland gear, complete with beret and kilt, Apps cut a striking figure as he walked on stage Sunday afternoon to deliver a rousing rendition of the tune. Hearing that tune it its original form enhanced the pleasure of listening to Debussy’s transformation of it. Starting as a march and ending with a jig, it all sounds more like Delius than Debussy—especially in the calme (meno tempo) interlude—but that made it no less enjoyable.

Things became more lyrical with the entrance of Lark for Chausson’s “Poème.” Inspired by a Turgenev novella, the Poème” is a work of otherworldly beauty, and Lark’s intensely Romantic performance perfectly captured that. The slowly dying trills that end the Poème were especially effective, as were the two cadenzas the composer provided to showcase the soloist.

Next, Lark had a chance to demonstrate her technical prowess in Ravel’s “Tzigane.” Inspired by the playing of the Hungarian-born violinist Jelly d’Arányi, “Tzigane” is an outrageously difficult piece. The slow, smoldering romanticism of the opening eventually gives way to a wildly energetic finale that will test the skill of the best violinists. Lark proved more than equal to both the intense passion of the long solo introduction and the wild, fiery finale. If you missed her performance last weekend, never fear: classical radio station WQXR has provided a YouTube video of her playing the original violin and piano version.

The second half of the program consisted of two popular orchestral blockbusters: Debussy’s sunny “Ibéria” and Ravel’s apocalyptic “La Valse.” This is music that Maestro Denève clearly knows well—he conducted both without a score—and clearly loves. I know I loved what he did with both of them and, judging from the response, so did the audience.

Tessa Lark and Stéphane Denève
Photo: Chuck Lavazzi

Although Debussy never spent more than a few hours in Spain, he nevertheless had plenty of exposure to Spanish music and dance. That, and his imagination, were all he needed to conjure up this Ivesian collage of day and night in the town of San Sebastián, just a few miles from the Spanish-French border. It’s colorful music with constantly shifting melodic and harmonic perspectives, rather like a French “New Wave” film.

That means there is a plethora of opportunities for individuals and whole sections to move in and out of sonic focus. A few examples include the languorous oboes and English horn in the second movement (“The Fragrances of the Night”), the solo by Concertmaster David Halen in the third movement (“The Morning of a Festival Day”), and the piquant sound of the strings in the first movement (“In the Streets and Byways”). Debussy subdivided the first and second violins into multiple groups here, producing an unusually complex sound.

The way the entire orchestra seems to breathe in a dreamlike state during the second movement is also impressive. The SLSO hasn’t played this music since 1997, but under Denève’s direction they performed with their accustomed precision.

This weekend's concerts concluded with Ravel's “La Valse,” a work that began in 1911 with the title “Wein” (“Vienna”). Before it could be completed, however, World War I (in which the composer served as an ambulance driver) intervened, and by the time it premiered in 1920 it had become something far more profound. Beginning in darkness at the very bottom of the orchestra, “La Valse” rises to what at first seems to be a gleaming homage to the 19th century Vienna of the Strauss family. Over the course of the next ten minutes or so, though, it becomes less joyous and more frenzied. The violent, crashing finale has always made me think of a huge, ornate machine spinning faster and faster until it hurls itself to pieces.

Denève last conducted “La Valse” with the SLSO in 2018, shortly after his appointment as Music Director. Back then I called his performance “dramatic, subtly shaded, and exceptionally effective.” It was certainly all of that Sunday afternoon, with the hushed opening (basses playing pianissimo and muted) starting in the near silence Denève achieved by holding the first downbeat until everyone had settle down and stopped coughing. From there the inexorable build to the frankly horrifying conclusion was masterfully done and beautifully played.

Denève, in his pre-concert remarks, described “La Valse” as “dancing on a volcano…which, I guess, means a lot today.” I can’t disagree. I was reminded, not for the first time, of Barbara W. Tuchman’s “The March of Folly.” Sometimes, it seems, the dance macabre can be a waltz.

Next at Powell Hall: The regular season takes a break for some “one of” concerts. Kevin McBeth conducts the orchestra, the IN UNISON Chorus, and soloist Kennedy Holmes in a “Lift Every Voice: A Black History Month Celebration” on Friday, February 24 at 7:30 pm. Brent Havens conducts the orchestra and vocalist Nick Adams in “The Music of the Rolling Stones” on Saturday the 25th at 7:30 pm. And Stephanie Childress conducts the SLSO Youth Orchestra on Sunday the 26th at 3:00 pm in “Music Without Boundaries,” an immersive 45-minute concert for children ages 5–10. Soloists include Rulin Olivia Zhang (erhu), Amir Salesevic (accordion), and the UMSL Percussion Ensemble under Matthew Henry.

The regular season resumes Friday at 7:30 pm and Saturday at 10:30 am, March 3 and 4, as Stephanie Childress conducts the orchestra in music of Haydn, Schumann, and Oswald Huỳnh.

This article originally appeared at 88.1 KDHX, where Chuck Lavazzi is the senior performing arts critic.

Review: Jun Märkl and the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra offer a Spanish-flavored post-Thanksgiving treat

This article originally appeared at 88.1 KDHX, where Chuck Lavazzi is the senior performing arts critic.

Jun Märkl
Photo: Christiana Hohne

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There's a lot to be thankful for at Powell Hall this weekend (November 24 -- 26, 2017) as Jun Märkl conducts the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra in a colorful program that is a feast for the eyes and ears.

[Find out more about the music with my symphony preview post.]

Things got off to a festive start Friday night with a performance of Ravel's 1919 Alborada del gracioso that positively sparkled with grace and wit. Inspired by the mischievous and vulgar clown figure of 16th century Spanish comedy--the gracioso of the title--this lively and brilliantly orchestrated work got crisp and precise direction from Mr. Märkl and brilliant playing from all the musicians. That included Principal Bassoon Andrew Cuneo, who had just the right touch in the seriocomic solo that introduces the elegiac middle section, as well as the trumpets and horns in the rapid-fire triplets in the lively beginning and end.

More brilliant playing followed, this time by violin soloist Karen Gomyo. Decked out in a red floor-length gown, she cut a striking figure as she took the stage for wonderfully sympathetic reading of Ernest Chausson's haunting 1896 miniature, Poème. Inspired by a romantic novella by Turgenev, the Poème rises from a hushed, mysterious introduction to a passionate and technically demanding cadenza before eventually dying away in a flurry of soft trills--equally demanding, if less flashy. Ms. Gomyo handled all the demands with apparent ease, and did so without stinting on the dark romanticism at the heart of the music.

The first half of the concert concluded with a straightforward virtuoso vehicle, the 1883 Carmen Fantasy by the Spanish violinist/composer Pablo de Sarasate. Sarasate's skill was legendary and this mini-concerto assembled out of themes from Bizet's opera bristles with technical challenges, including an elaborately ornamented version of the famous Habanera and the insanely fast finale, based on the Act II Danse bohème. Ms. Gomyo took it all in stride, bringing out all the yearning of the former as well as the flash and fire of the latter. As was the case in the Poème, her focus on the music was intense.

Karen Gomyo

After intermission, the Spanish theme continued with a performance of Manuel de Falla's 1925 revision of a ballet that premiered in 1916, El amor brujo (usually translated as "Love, the Magician"). Originally commissioned by flamenco dancer Pastora Imperio, the ballet is infused with Andalusian folk elements and the percussive spirit of flamenco.

The spooky scenario, about a young woman trying to free herself from the obsessive intentions of her unfaithful husband's ghost, reads like something that would have been more appropriate around Halloween. There is dark, brooding music here--especially in the opening sequence, with its vivid evocation of a nocturnal cavern--but also moments of brilliance, like the famous "Ritual Fire Dance." There are even a few smoldering, passionate songs for the smoky tones of a mezzo soprano--a nod to the cante jondo, a dark and dramatic style of singing associated with the flamenco tradition.

This is immensely compelling stuff, and it got a powerfully theatrical performance from Mr. Märkl, the orchestra, and vocal soloist Catalina Cuervo. Although a soprano and therefore presumably singing at the bottom of her range, Ms. Cuervo nevertheless sounded entirely comfortable with her three highly charged, "take no prisoners" songs, delivered with a fierce intensity that was completely compelling. She also cut a commanding figure on stage with a form-fitting red gown, silver nails, and some very flamenco poses and foot stomping.

Mr. Märkl's interpretation exuded that same dramatic intensity, and was filled with neat little details, like the pointed snap of the viola trills in the "Ritual Fire Dance." He got great playing from the orchestra, including powerful moments from the horns and heartfelt solos from Principal Cello Daniel Lee and Concertmaster David Halen in the "Dance of the Game of Love." I can't recall the last time I saw any version of El amor brujo live (the SLSO hasn't done it since 1998), so it was a pleasure to see it performed so well.

Catalina Cuervo
Photo: John Parra

Friday night's concert ended with one of the longest crescendos in musical history, Ravel's 1928 Boléro. Ravel himself apparently began to view it in somewhat the same way that Rachmaninoff came to view his equally popular Prelude in C sharp minor: as a career milestone that eventually became a millstone. But it's still a piece that never fails to entertain.

It certainly did that Friday night, with a brilliantly conceived performance that built expertly from the almost inaudible opening with snare drum and plucked strings to the massive orchestral crash of the final pages. Yes, Boléro is almost guaranteed to work as long as the conductor doesn't get in Ravel's way, but even so this was a performance that packed a real punch and brought down the house.

It helped, of course, that Mr. Märkl had an ensemble of virtuosos to work with. That includes, but is certainly not limited to, Associate Principal Clarinet Dana Haskell, Principal Bassoon Andrew Cuneo, Associate Principal Flute Andrea Kaplan, Principal Trombone Timothy Myers, and Cally Banham on oboe d'amore. Guests Nathan Nabb and Jeffrey Collins on soprano and tenor sax, respectively, brought the same jazzy feel to their solos that they did the last time the SLSO played this piece in 2015. And let's hear it for Principal Percussionist Will James. Seated just behind the violas, he had the difficult and somewhat thankless role of playing the same snare drum figure repeatedly for around 17 minutes. There ought to be a medal for that.

The St. Louis Symphony Orchestra's mostly Spanish post-Thanksgiving feast repeats Saturday night at 8 and Sunday at 3, November 25 and 26, at Powell Symphony Hall in Grand Center. The music continues next weekend with an all-Vivaldi program conducted by Nicholas McGegan.

Symphony Preview: L'heure espagnol

This article originally appeared at 88.1 KDHX, where Chuck Lavazzi is the senior performing arts critic.

Violinist Karen Gomyo

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Music lovers have a lot to be thankful for this weekend (November 24 -- 26), as Jun Märkl conducts the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra in a program of classical favorites. It's a real feast for the ears to match the one your stomach will probably still be digesting.

The concerts will open with Ravel's colorful tone poem Alborada del gracioso, written as a solo piano work in 1905 then orchestrated in 1919. The work's title is, as Ravel admitted, essentially untranslatable. The composer explained it this way in a letter to Ferdinand Sinzig of Steinway and Sons in New York on September 14, 1907 (cited in the 2011 biography Ravel by Roger Nichols):

I understand your bafflement over how to translate the title 'Alborada del gracioso'; precisely why I decided not to translate it. The fact is that the gracioso of Spanish comedy is a rather special character and one which, as far as I know, is not found in any other theatrical tradition. We do have an equivalent, though, in the French theater: Beaumarchais' Figaro. But he's more philosophical, less well--meaning than his Spanish ancestor. The simplest thing, I think, is to follow the title with the rough translation 'Morning Song of the Clown' [Aubade du buffon]. That will be enough to explain the piece's humoristic style.

reflecting the composer's love of Spain. The brilliant orchestration includes a large percussion battery with, of course, castanets.

Up next is the Poéme for violin and orchestra, composed in 1896 by Ernest Chausson, a composer whose music does not, in my view, get quite as much attention as it deserves. His Symphony in B flat (1890) is a particular favorite of mine, but live performances seem to be rare.

Inspired by Turgenev's 1881 novella The Song of Love Triumphant, the Poéme originally had the same title as the book, but Chausson changed it before the piece was published, apparently to avoid associating it too closely with the novel. I think it was a wise decision; this music has a haunting beauty that doesn't need any extra-musical connections.

The Poéme has been massively popular with violinists ever since it was first performed by the great composer/violinist Eugène Ysaÿe, who commissioned the piece and may have helped with some of the details of the violin part. "When Ysaÿe introduced the Poéme in Paris," writes Michael Steinberg in The Concerto: A Listener's Guide, "the applause rang on and on. Chausson's friend the novelist Camille Mauclair recalled that the bewildered composer kept repeating 'I can't get over it.'" Sadly, it wouldn't last; only two years after the work's 1897 premiere, Chausson lost control of a bicycle and smashed into the wall of his country villa. He was only 44.

Conductor Jun Märkl
Photo by Christiana Hohne

The violin remains in the spotlight with the last work in the first half, the flashy 1883 Carmen Fantasy by the virtuoso violinist and composer Pablo de Sarasate, based on Georges Bizet's massively popular 1875 opera Carmen. Like Chausson, Bizet died young; he shuffled off this mortal coil at the age of 36 from a heart attack a few months after the opera opened to tepid reviews and public apathy. So he went to his grave not knowing that he had composed what would become one of the most popular operas ever written. Operabase statistics for the 2015/2016 season, in fact, show it as number 3 worldwide, surpassed only by Verdi's La Traviata and Mozart's The Magic Flute.

This mini-concerto weaves virtuoso fireworks out of a number of tunes from the opera, starting with the Aragonaise that serves as the entr'acte between Bizet's Acts III and IV and ending with the Danse bohème from the top of Act II, as Carmen and her friends Frasquita and Mercédès dance for some army officers in Pastia's Inn. Along the way you'll also hear the famous Habanera as well as the Seguidilla, both from Act I. It's pure melodic fun that offers the violinist a chance to strut his or her stuff, especially in the breakneck finale.  This weekend's soloist is Karen Gomyo.

After intermission, the Spanish theme continues with a performance of Manuel de Falla's 1925 revision of a ballet that premiered in 1916, El amor brujo (usually translated as "Love, the Magician"). Originally commissioned by flamenco dancer Pastora Imperio, the ballet is infused with Andalusian folk elements and, of course, the spirit of flamenco.

The spooky scenario reads like something that would have been more appropriate around Hallowe'en. Here's a summary from John Henken's program notes for a 2015 performance by the Los Angeles Philharmonic:

The tale in its final version concerns Candelas, a young widowed gypsy haunted by the ghost of her jealous husband. To free her from his unwanted attention, Candelas and Carmelo, her new lover, must exchange a kiss of perfect love. In a series of dances the ghost first frightens the couple (Dance of Terror), Candelas tries to exorcise it (Ritual Fire Dance), and then her friend Lucia seduces it. While the ghost is distracted by Lucia, Candelas and Carmelo kiss, and then mock the ghost in the final dance (Dance of the Game of Love).

Most concertgoers will be familiar with the "Ritual Fire Dance," but there's much to relish in this colorful and highly evocative score. There's even a part for a mezzo-soprano (sung this weekend by soprano Catalina Cuervo), acknowledging the influence of the Andalusian tradition of cante jundo, a dark and dramatic style of singing associated with the flamenco tradition.

The concerts close with one of the most popular orchestral works ever written and certainly the best-known thing Maurice Ravel ever produced: Bolero. Composed originally on commission for the dancer Ida Rubinstein, Bolero was first performed by her at the Paris Opéra on 22 November 1928, with choreography by Bronislava Nijinska and designs by Alexandre Benois.

"Inside a tavern in Spain," runs the scenario printed in that first program, "people dance beneath the brass lamp hung from the ceiling. [In response] to the cheers to join in, the female dancer has leapt onto the long table and her steps become more and more animated." In program notes for the New York Philharmonic, the late New York Times music critic Louis Biancolli goes into greater detail. "The men gathered in the public room of the inn eye the dancer fixedly. As her movements grow more animated, their excitement mounts. They beat out an obbligato with their hands and pound their heels. At the peak of the crescendo, where the key abruptly shifts from C major to E major, the sharpening tension snaps. Knives are drawn and there is a wild tavern brawl."

Sounds like a hell of a party. There will be no weapons at Powell Hall this weekend, fortunately, so you will be able to enjoy Ravel's Greatest Hit in safety.

The essentials: Jun Märkl conducts The St. Louis Symphony Orchestra with soloists Karen Gomyo, violin, and Catalina Cuervo, soprano, Friday and Saturday at 8 pm and Sunday at 3 pm, November 24 -- 26. The performances take place at Powell Hall in Grand Center.