Symphony Preview: Beyond the sea

All good things, they say, must come to an end. This weekend (April 30 and May 1) Stéphane Denève conducts the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra (SLSO) in a program that pays tribute to SLS Chorus Director Amy Kaiser, who is retiring after 26 years (a total of 27 seasons) with the orchestra. She departs on a magic carpet of concert triumphs (including a resplendent Mozart “Requiem” last month) and a wave of fond memories by members of the chorus and orchestra.

[Preview the music with my commercial-free Spotify playlist.]

Appropriately, the evening features two works in which the chorus figures prominently: Debussy’s “Nocturnes” (the third movement features a women’s chorus) and Vaughan Williams’s "A Sea Symphony" for soloists, chorus, and orchestra. It opens, though, with a purely orchestral piece that is getting its third performance with the SLSO since 2020.

Violinist and composer
Jessie Montgomery

That popular piece is “Starburst” by contemporary violinist and composer Jessie Montgomery, whose music has appeared frequently on SLSO programs over the last few years—most recently on April 8-10, when the orchestra gave the local premiere of her “Rounds for Piano and Strings.”

Originally composed for a nine-piece string ensemble and later arranged for string orchestra by Jannina Norpoth, "Starburst" is a delightful sonic explosion that, in the composer's words, refers to "the rapid formation of large numbers of new stars in a galaxy at a rate high enough to alter the structure of the galaxy significantly." To my ears, "Starburst" also calls to mind musical depictions of fireworks by composers like Stravinsky and Debussy while still speaking in a sonic voice that is entirely Ms. Montgomery's own.  Rapidly ascending motifs shoot up, expand into musical stars, and then start over again in what the composer describes as "a multidimensional soundscape" that constitutes "a play on imagery of rapidly changing musical colors."

There are plenty of musical colors in Debussy's "Nocturnes" as well, although they’re more like the subtle hues of Impressionist paintings than Montgomery’s sonic pyrotechnics. It consists of three short tone poems (total playing time is around 25 minutes) inspired by literary poems by the symbolist writer Henri de Regnier. The composer wrote a fairly detailed program for "Nocturnes," and rather than attempt to paraphrase it, I'm just going to quote it in toto, using the translation from Donald Brook's “Five great French composers: Berlioz, César Franck, Saint-Saëns, Debussy, Ravel: Their Lives and Works”:

The title Nocturnes is to be interpreted here in a general and, more particularly, in a decorative sense. Therefore, it is not meant to designate the usual form of the Nocturne, but rather all the various impressions and the special effects of light that the word suggests. 'Nuages' renders the immutable aspect of the sky and the slow, solemn motion of the clouds, fading away in grey tones lightly tinged with white. 'Fêtes' gives us the vibrating, dancing rhythm of the atmosphere with sudden flashes of light. There is also the episode of the procession (a dazzling fantastic vision), which passes through the festive scene and becomes merged in it. But the background remains resistantly the same: the festival with its blending of music and luminous dust participating in the cosmic rhythm. 'Sirènes' depicts the sea and its countless rhythms and presently, amongst the waves silvered by the moonlight, is heard the mysterious song of the Sirens as they laugh and pass on.

Women of the SLS Chorus
Photo courtesy of the SLSO

The mysterious song of the Sirens will  be sung by members of the women’s chorus. That wordless song is, as Kaiser observes in this weekend’s program notes, “harder for the chorus than it first appears. Stéphane wants a very light, almost innocent sound. It should also be very fluid, like water flowing.”

The aquatic theme continues after intermission with the massive “Sea Symphony”—Vaughan Williams’s first symphony, although he never assigned it or his other symphonies a number. It began life in 1903 (just four years after the premiere of Debussy’s “Nocturnes”) as “The Ocean,” a collection of songs for chorus. By the time it was completed in 1909, it had expanded into a full, four-movement choral symphony in which the chorus is not an add-on but rather an integral part of the ensemble.

“The chorus gets very few breaks,” writes Kaiser in the program notes, and plumbs profound emotional depths. “The symphony is like a farewell to life, and the poetry is so cosmic and deeply felt—it's a very profound piece. I had to figure out how to not be a puddle at every rehearsal!”

Walt Whitman from the frontispiece
of Leaves of Grass
By Samuel Hollyer (1826-1919)
of a daguerreotype by
Gabriel Harrison (original lost). -
Morgan Library & Museum,
Public Domain, Link

Running over an hour, it’s a big, complex piece that calls, in addition to the chorus and soprano and baritone soloists, for a sizable orchestra (including an organ).  That could be viewed as surprisingly ambitious for a first symphony. But by the time the “Sea Symphony” had its premiere in 1910, with the the composer on the podium, Vaughan Williams was nearly 40 and no neophyte. He had studied British folk music extensively and had traveled to abroad to study with (among others) Maurice Ravel, which “set VW’s imagination free to roam on the largest scale.” Ravel, he would later recall, taught him “how to orchestrate in points of colour rather than in lines.”

Although the music is strongly shaped by British folk songs, the actual words of the “Sea Symphony” are by the American poet Walt Whitman, from his “Leaves of Grass” collection. Whitman wasn’t well known in Britain at the time, and it was the noted mathematician and philosopher Bertrand Russell who introduced Vaughan Williams to Whitman’s work. The composer found himself in sympathy with what David Cox (in volume 2 of Robert Simpson’s indispensable “The Symphony”) calls the “unconventionally direct utterance” of the poet. The commanding first movement uses verses from “The Song of the Exposition” and “Song for all Seas, all Ships,” while the ruminative second movement is based on “On the Beach at Night Alone.” The third movement scherzo uses all of “After the Sea-ship” and the lengthy, transcendent finale quotes extensively from “Passage to India.”

I’m assuming the SLSO will use projected text during the concert but if not, the complete lyrics for the “Sea Symphony” are available online. You’ll find this especially helpful if you’re listening to the concert broadcast on the 30th.

The Essentials: The SLSO bids a fond farewell to SLS Chorus Director Amy Kaiser, retiring after 27 seasons, with a program of Vaughn Williams’s “Sea Symphony,” Debussy’s “Nocturnes,” and Jessie Montgomery’s “Starburst.” Stéphane Denève conducts the orchestra and chorus along with soloists Katie Van Kooten, soprano, and Stephen Powell, baritone. Performances are Saturday at 8 pm and Sunday at 3 pm, April 30 and May 1. The Saturday concert will be broadcast live, as usual, on St. Louis Public Radio and Classic 107.3.

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

Symphony Preview: Bang the drum slowly

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

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Last weekend's St. Louis Symphony Orchestra concerts were dominated by Mahler's Symphony No. 9, a work that is often seen as being having its genesis in the valley of the shadow of death. The theme of mortality seems to have spilled over to this weekend (March 9 and 10, 2019), when Nathalie Stutzmann will conduct the orchestra and chorus in a pair of memorial works: the "German Requiem" by Brahms and Igor Stravinsky's "Funeral Song."

Amy Kaiser
stlsymphony.org

The Brahms was last seen here back in October 2014. I wrote about it then, and rather than plagiarize myself here, I'll just refer you to my original article. In the program notes for that concert, SLSO Chorus Director Amy Kaiser called it "a major work, full of challenges: complex fugues, expressive segments, rich in harmonic details. It's a choral symphony, really." That's as good a capsule description as any.

A major inspiration for "German Requiem" was the death of Brahms's friend and mentor Robert Schumann. A similar tragedy was the impetus for the young Stravinsky to write his "Funeral Song" in 1908. In Stravinsky's case, it was the death earlier that year of his teacher, the great Russian composer and master orchestrator, Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov.

First performed in 1909 in a concert conducted by Felix Blumenfeld at the St. Petersburg Conservatoire (where Rimsky-Korsakov had taught), the original score for the work was generally believed to have been lost in the revolutions of February and October 1917, although Stravinsky himself believed that the score was simply buried somewhere in the archives at the Conservatoire.

As it turned out, he was right.

The rediscovery of the "Funeral Song" in 2015 was the happy result of a combination of good luck and dogged persistence by Stravinsky scholar Natalya Braginskaya. As Stephen Walsh wrote in The Guardian:

Natalya Braginskaya...mounted a series of unsuccessful searches helped by willing Conservatoire archivists. But it was only when the whole building had to be emptied last autumn to make way for a long-delayed overhaul that piles of previously hidden manuscripts emerged from behind rows of stacked piano and orchestral scores, undisturbed for decades, and a librarian found herself staring at the missing orchestral parts which she remembered as precisely the work that Braginskaya had been looking for.

Stravinsky in 1903
en.wikipedia.org

It would take another year for a performance of the rediscovered work to materialize. Aside from the fact that the full score had to be reconstructed from the newly discovered orchestral parts, there were rights arguments between the Stravinsky estate and the late composer's publisher, Boosey and Hawkes. Finally, the highly regarded (albeit politically controversial) conductor Valery Gergiev conducted the Mariinsky Theatre Orchestra in "Funeral Song" for the first time since its 1909 premiere on Friday, December 6, 2016. It was, as The Guardian's Walsh recounts, a Very Big Deal:

The Russian audience, deprived of their greatest composer for so many Soviet years, were rightly thrilled that a substantial piece of his had turned up on their home ground and that they were the first to play it and hear it. The applause as Gergiev held up the score was thunderous, and whatever scholars make of the work in due course, it deserved every minute of it. Stravinsky remembered Funeral Song as one of his best early pieces (though he forgot nearly everything else about it) and he was right.

What does the piece sound like? Well, it's somber, dark, dramatic, and feels only a little bit like the work of the man who would astonish the world with his ballet "The Firebird" only a year later. If I didn't know it was Stravinsky, I'd be tempted to assume it was Rimsky-Korsakov or one of the lesser early 20th-century Russian composers like Lyadov or Glazunov. You can listen to it yourself and draw your own conclusions, fortunately; Gergiev's performance is available on YouTube.

At the podium this weekend will be the French singer/conductor Nathalie Stutzmann. When she made her first appearance here in 2016, I was impressed by the way her direct emotional connection to the familiar works on the program that weekend made me hear them in different ways that shed new light on old favorites. You can find more information on Ms. Stutzmann in the preview article I wrote for her 2016 appearance and see her in action on her YouTube channel.

The Essentials: Nathalie Stutzmann conducts the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra and Chorus, along with soprano Siobhan Stagg and baritone Stephen Powell, Saturday at 8 pm and Sunday at 3 pm, March 9 and 10. The concerts take place at Powell Symphony Hall, 718 North Grand in Grand Center.

Symphony Review: A resplendent "Messiah" with Bernard Labadie and soloists, December 3-6, 2015

Bernard Labadie
Photo: Francois Rivard

As I noted in one of my symphony preview posts a few days ago, it's far from clear exactly what set of historical accidents turned George Frederick Handel's 1741 oratorio "The Messiah" into a Christmas tradition here in the USA. But traditional it is, and the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra and Chorus, under the direction of early music specialist Bernard Labadie, are observing it in fine style this weekend.

[Get more out of the music with my preview articles—part 1 and part 2]

Conducting without a score, a baton, or (for that matter) a podium, Mr. Labadie creates a luminous, bracing, and altogether splendid "Messiah". It's beautifully played, impeccably sung, and filled with small touches that allow Mr. Labadie to put his own unique stamp on the music without getting in the way of Handel's music. His "Hallelujah" chorus, for example, has subtle dynamic shadings that make this well-worn number feel almost brand new, and the slow diminuendo at the end of "We like sheep" was so striking and unexpected that it drew spontaneous applause on opening night. The final "Amen" was beautifully structured, building slowly and powerfully so that the final entrance by the sopranos felt like a ray of light suddenly bursting through the windows of his musical cathedral.

Allyson McHardy

So, yeah, magical moments all around.

"Messiah" is not the most theatrical of Handel's oratorios, but even so it works best when the soloists understand and convey often highly charged emotions in the text and the score. All four of this weekend's singers do that, with perhaps the most fully engaged performances coming from mezzo Allyson McHardy and, most impressively, from bass-baritone Kyle Ketelsen, who was a last-minute substitution for an ailing Philippe Sly.

Ms. McHardy, cutting a commanding figure in an emerald-green skirt and lacy black top, showed impressive power and variety. She's the imperious voice of doom in "But who may abide the day of His coming" and then the voice of hope in "O thou that tellest good tidings." Her role is written for an alto, but I thought Ms. McHardy had plenty of power in her low notes.

Kyle Ketelsen
Photo: Dario Acosta

Mr. Ketelsen was fully engaged with the text as well. His "The people that walked in darkness" was gripping, as was the dramatic "Why do the nations so furiously," a minor vocal glitch not withstanding. Like Ms. McHardy, he has a voice with a very solid low end, projecting easily into the hall.

Soprano Lydia Teuscher doesn't have much in the way of stage experience in her resume, but you'd never know it from the way she communicates the emotional core of her lyrics. Resplendent in a gold gown, she simply glowed in "Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion" and in the recitatives leading up to the chorus's "Glory to God in the highest."

On the night we attended, tenor Jeremy Ovenden didn't have quite the vocal power of his fellow soloists, but he had all the flexibility and accuracy you could ask for in "Comfort ye, my people" and "Every valley shall be exalted." Those two numbers are the first vocal sounds we hear after the opening "Sinfonia" so it's vital that they make a strong impression, and he nailed them.

Lydia Teuscher

Amy Kaiser's chorus never fails to impress me with their fine vocal blend and accurate elocution, but I must say they are exceeding even their own high standards this time around. There was dramatic urgency in their "Surely He hath born our griefs" and real power in "He trusted in God that he would." Their "Glory to God in the highest" was sheer jubilation, amplified by the theatrical use of offstage trumpets in the dress circle.

The orchestra sounded at the top of their game as well, with fine work by the strings and flawless solos from Karin Bliznik and Jeff Strong on trumpets, among others. The continuo part was nicely realized by Maryse Carlin on harpsichord and Andrew Peters on positif organ (small portable organ that went out of fashion after the 18th century).

Jeremy Ovenden

I'm told that Mr. Labadie worked the orchestra and chorus particularly hard in rehearsals, making sure that they knew every nuance of his highly personal approach to the well-known music. That effort has paid off in a "Messiah" that respects Handel, but does so in a way that is all Mr. Labadie's own. I really can't recommend this performance highly enough.

The St. Louis Symphony's "Messiah" continues through Sunday, December 6th, at Powell Hall in Grand Center. Next weekend, the SLSO goes to the movies as David Robertson conducts a program of the music of John Williams December 11-13. For more information: stlsymphony.org.

Concert Review: A celestial 'Aida' by the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra and Chorus

"Aida" at Powell Hall
stlsymphony.org / Eddie Silva

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Who: The St. Louis Symphony Orchestra and Chorus conducted by David Robertson
What: Verdi's "Aida"
Where: Powell Symphony Hall, St. Louis
When: May 7 and 9, 2015

[Find out more about the music with the SLSO program notes and my preview.]

In the hands of a lesser composer, "Aida" might have been a classic potboiler—cheap yard goods written on commission and quickly forgotten. But Verdi was a thoroughgoing man of the theatre with a keen sense of what worked on stage. Moreover, by the time he wrote "Aida" in 1870 he was a mature artist with a string of hits to his credit. The result is a work, in the words of British opera scholar Julian Budden, "in which the various elements—grandeur, exotic pictorialism, and intimate poetry—are held in perfect equilibrium and from which not a single note can be cut."

If you want to see for yourself just how right Mr. Budden was, hie yourself down to Powell Hall this weekend to see and hear the remarkable concert version of "Aida" being presented by the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra and Chorus under the impeccable direction of David Robertson. Distinguished by virtuoso performances from the orchestra and Amy Kaiser's splendid chorus and an international cast of strong singers—most of whom are also respectable actors—this is an "Aida" that demonstrates that great opera is also great musical theatre.

"Aida," as Mr. Budden says, has it all: romance, treachery, tragedy, and a stunning Act II finale complete with offstage brass, ballet music, and what Shakespeare's Othello (in his famous "farewell to arms" speech) called the "[p]ride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war." The final scene—in which the doomed lovers Aida and Radamès slowly expire in a sealed tomb while Amneris bitterly regrets her part in their destruction and the offstage chorus sings a hymn to "immenso Ftha"—is a brilliantly conceived coup de theatre, calculated to bring a lump to the most stoic of throats.

Antonello Polombi
liricopera.com

Well, it did to mine, anyway.

The cast for this production is headed by soprano Lucrecia García and tenor Antonello Palombi as the doomed lovers Aida and Radamès. Mr. Palombi was clearly the most intensely focused actor in this cast, completely in character as soon as he walked on stage. You could see his concentration in little things, like the way he stayed "in the moment" for a beat or two after he cut off that high A at the end of "Celeste Aida," or the way he reacted to what other characters were doing even when he wasn't in focus.

He also displayed that rich, powerful voice that has gotten him rave reviews elsewhere in the past. Reviewing his Manrico in Seattle back in 2010, for example, the Opera Warhorses blog praised the "strength and beauty" of his voice, dubbing him "a true tenore di forza" (the "dramatic tenor" Verdi said was required for his leading roles). I'd have to agree. Even in the overly reverberant acoustic fog of Powell Hall's upper reaches, he came through loud and clear.

Lucrecia Garcia
imgartists.com

Ms. Garcia's Aida was more dramatically restrained but still entirely compelling. Her "Ritorna vincitor" was right on the dramatic money and her death scene with Mr. Palombi, as noted, was truly moving. She, too, has the kind of precision and gravity-defying vocal power needed to fill a big hall. Reviewing her Odabella in the Teater an der Wien's production of Verdi's Attila back in 2013 for bachtrack.com, Chanda VanderHart accurately described her as having "a color and metal to her tone reminiscent of a young Leontyne Price"—a telling comparison, given that Ms. Price (who retired from the stage in 1985) was one of the great Aidas of her time.

Russian mezzo Ekaterina Semenchuk also turned in an exciting performance as Amneris, whose insane jealousy destroys the lives of everyone—hers included. Like Mr. Palombi, she is always in character and always credible. She has a powerhouse of a voice, with an appropriately rich and dark bottom and solid top notes.

Basses Alexander Vinogradov and Soloman Howard bring impressive gravitas to the roles of the High Priest Ramfis and the Pharaoh, respectively. Soprano Sarah Price makes a strong impression as the High Priestess and tenor Dennis Wilhoit, while not quite in the same vocal league as the rest of the cast, is nevertheless and excellent Messenger.

As Aida's father Amonsasro, King of Ethiopia, baritone Gordon Hawkins is vocally impressive, with an opulent voice that projects well, but (at least of Thursday night) seemed not to be acting the part at all. Even in the Act III duet "Rivedrai le foreste imbalsamente," where he's excoriating Aida and reminding her of the horrors inflicted on Ethiopia by the Egyptians, his only emotional setting appeared to be "stolid."

Amy Kaiser
stlsymphony.org

Amy Kaiser's chorus displayed that mix of power, finesse, and precise diction that I have come to expect of them over the years. Their singing in the big triumphal scene that concludes Verdi's Act II was thrilling, of course, but their offstage work in the final moments of the last act was equally impressive.

The musicians of the SLSO performed heroically here. With intermission, "Aida" runs just over three hours, so it requires a lot of stamina as well as skill. It got both on Thursday night, along with some fine work by individual players to whom Verdi has given some notable solos. That included (among others) Principal Harp Allegra Lilly at various points in the first act; Principal Flute Mark Sparks and fellow flautists Jennifer Nichtman and Ann Choomack in the dance of the priestesses from I,2; and Tzuying Huang on bass clarinet during Amneris' aria at the top of Act IV. The offstage brass during Act II were also very effective.

Mr. Robertson pulls all this together in a wonderfully nuanced interpretation, with generally quite good balances between the orchestra and vocalists. If the latter were at times overwhelmed, it was more a matter of Powell Hall's acoustics than anything else. His tempi for some of the ballet sequences would probably have been too brisk for live dancers, but in a concert setting like this one they worked just fine and were exciting to hear.

S. Katy Tucker's video projections on the back and sides of the stage were a major asset when creating virtual scenery like the stunning Temple of Vulcan in I,2 (complete with remarkably realistic flaming torches) or the exterior of the royal palace in II, 2. They also provided nicely synchronized animation to accompany those ballet sequences.

They were, however, more of a detriment when they pulled focus from the singers—which they did far too often. When Radamès is singing about wanting to build Aida a throne next to the sun ("un trono vicino al sol"), we really don't need to see animated sunbeams any more than we need to see blooming flowers when, in II,2, the women of the chorus sing of crowning Radamès' brow with lotus and laurel. And we certainly don't need an animated eye looking back and forth between singers. Less gilding of the visual lily would have been more effective.

The St. Louis Symphony's celestial "Aida" brought the regular concert season to a splendid close. For ticket information on other SLSO events: stlsymphony.org.

Symphony Preview: Walk (and sing) like an Egyptian with "Aida" at Powell Hall, May 7 and 9, 2015

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The on-line version of the Oxford Dictionary defines a "potboiler" as a "book, painting, or recording produced merely to make the writer or artist a living by catering to popular taste." Verdi's 1871 opera "Aida," a concert version of which closes the St. Louis Symphony season this weekend, probably meets that definition to some extent since it started out as a purely commercial endeavor. But Verdi quickly became enthusiastic about the project, and "Aida" transcended its origins.

Verdi conducting "Aida" in Paris, 1881
en.wikipedia.org

Commissioned by Isma'il Pasha, Khedive of Egypt from 1863 to 1879, "Aida" had its premiere on Christmas Eve 1871 at the Khedive's new 850-seat grand opera house in Cairo. As befitted the occasion, it was a massive, eye-popping spectacle—a "grand opera" in the tradition of Meyerbeer with elaborate (and historically accurate) sets and costumes by French Egyptologist Auguste Ferdinand Mariette who had written the story that was the basis for Antonio Ghislanzoni's libretto. Verdi was reportedly annoyed that the Cairo audience was strictly limited to critics and dignitaries, though, and is said to have regarded the opera's first non-Egyptian performance—in Milan at La Scala in 1872—as the work's "real" premiere.

"Aida" is more than just spectacle, of course. The story, as Julian Budden writes in the 1989 edition of Stanley Sadie's "History of Opera," "is unusually simple, presenting the time-honored conflict of love versus duty in time of war...set forth in a score in which the various elements—grandeur, exotic pictorialism, and intimate poetry—are held in perfect equilibrium and from which not a single note can be cut."

Not surprisingly, then, popular and critical acclaim followed hard upon the Milan opening. As Paul Schiavo writes in his SLSO program notes, "subsequent productions...quickly placed Aida in the forefront of the operatic repertory. It has never relinquished its position there, and seems unlikely ever to do so."

Much of this is due to the fact that Verdi was a thoroughgoing man of the theatre with a keen sense of what would and would not work in performance. "At all stages of the formation of the libretto," wrote Gordon Stewart in his notes for the classic 1962 recording of "Aida" with Leontyne Price, "Verdi altered, suggested, removed. He was always a bully where librettists were concerned, but he had never indulged himself as much as he did in 'Aida'. Not only was the general shape of the opera, the interplay of the human relationships, his concern, but the details of the words—the rhythms of the verse and even whole lines—owe something to him."

Album cover of the 1962 "Aida"

You can see that in the detailed 92-page production book (disposizione scenica) for "Aida" which, as Roger Savage and Will Crutchfield observe (in Sadie, op. cit.) "is virtually a moment-by-moment dramatic analysis" that is "essentially the work of Verdi himself." The book includes "the most detailed directions for the exact composition of processions and scenes of pageantry...with stage movement and interpretive directions running right through the solo arias (even including the number of steps to be taken)." You can see a sample page at the web site of Verdi's publisher, Ricordi. Verdi never went as far as Wagner, with his concept of the Gesamtkunstwerk (roughly, "total work of art") in which the composer was responsible for every aspect of the work, but he certainly came close.

You don't get all that in a concert performance, of course, but the SLSO isn't going to ask you to rely entirely on your mind's eye. According to the SLSO web site, the concerts will be "enhanced by innovative lighting projection by designer S. Katy Tucker...a renowned artist known for her design work at Carnegie Hall, the San Francisco Opera, Sydney Symphony and more." In a promotional video, SLSO music director David Robertson says that as a result "Powell Hall will be transformed into this incredible sort of temple of music and evocation of the magic landscape that Verdi created."

Given that none of our local opera companies have the stage facilities for something as grandiose as "Aida," this is probably the closest we're likely to get to a full production in St. Louis without hopping into Dr. Who's TARDIS and traveling back to 1917, when the opera was presented at the Municipal Theatre (now The Muny) in Forest Park.

The Essentials: David Robertson conducts the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra and Chorus, soprano Lucrecia Garcia, and an international roster of soloists in a complete concert performance of Verdi's "Aida" Thursday and Saturday at 8 p.m., May 7 and 9. The concerts take place at Powell Symphony Hall, 718 North Grand in Grand Center and the Saturday performance will be broadcast on St. Louis Public Radio. For more information: stlsymphony.org.

Concert Review: The St. Louis Symhony Orchestra offers a potent Carnegie Hall preview

Vadim Repin
Photo: Gela Megredlidze

Who: The St. Louis Symphony Orchestra conducted by David Robertson
What: Music of Debussy, James MacMillan, and Tchaikovsky
Where: Powell Symphony Hall, St. Louis
When: March 14 and 15, 2015

[Find out more about the music with the SLSO program notes and my preview article.]

Two of the three works on this past weekend's St. Louis Symphony Orchestra concerts (the ones that aren't by James MacMillan) will also be on the bill when the orchestra performs in Carnegie Hall on Friday, March 20th. If what we heard Sunday afternoon is any indication, they'll be representing their home town proudly.

The concert opened with Debussy's "Nocturnes"— three short tone poems (total playing time is around 25 minutes) inspired by literary poems by the symbolist writer Henri de Regnier. Although nothing in the three movements is explicitly nocturnal, the music nevertheless has that oddly otherworldly quality of things seen only faintly in the dark—or maybe just in a dream. The clouds in the first movement ("Nuages") coalesce and disperse in a whirl of filmy chords; the eerie procession of the second movement ("Fêtes") begins with muted trumpets and harps, builds to a climax, and then vanishes; and the wordless female chorus of the final movement ("Sirènes") is sometimes so faint that you can't be sure whether it's there at all.

Mr. Robertson and orchestra gave this piece a wonderfully nuanced and atmospheric treatment. You could almost hear the ocean in the ebb and flow of "Sirènes," for example, and the celebration of "Fêtes" had just the right touch of mystery. So did "Nuages," which was also distinguished by nice work from Cally Banham on the English horn. The women of Amy Kaiser's chorus were wonderfully seductive sirens in the final movement, and handled Debussy's sometimes challenging score (singing long lines softly is no easy thing) with great skill.

Next was the work which won't be on the program in New York (there's a new piece by Meredith Monk in that slot)—the 2009 "Violin Concerto" by contemporary Scottish composer James MacMillan. In interviews Mr. MacMillan has described himself as strongly to the kind of composer who is “deeply suspicious of any significant move towards tonality, any hint of pulse that is actually discernible, and any music which communicates successfully with a non-specialist audience.” And, in fact, his "Piano Concerto No. 3," which we heard last month, certainly was a colorful piece with lots of immediate appeal.

Mr. MacMillan is quoted in last weekend's concert program notes as saying that the concerto reflects the Celtic fiddle music of his childhood. "I've grown up with fiddle music," he recalls. "I used to play in folk bands when I was younger, and fiddles were always the core part of that music." With the exception of a brief dance-like passage in the first movement and a lyrical oboe line in the second that suggested a Scottish air, however, I heard very little of that influence.

What I did hear was a lot of jagged modernism and a lack of any real structural coherence. Musical episodes followed each other like cars in a freight train with no real through line. In the end, I felt that I had heard a series of miniatures (some more appealing than others) rather than a single unified work. The work felt, overall, less audience friendly than the "Piano Concerto."

The concerto demands some real virtuosity from the violin soloist, and it certainly got that from Vadim Repin. Mr. Repin worked closely with the composer during the concerto's genesis, introduced it to the world, and has been a major advocate for it since. We can, therefore, probably take his breathtakingly fluid performance as being definitive. He handled with ease passages that sounded absurdly difficult. More to the point, his playing had real soul, which, while it still didn't completely win me over to the music, at least made a good case for it.

When I heard to the Internet broadcast of Tchaikovsky's "Symphony No. 4" that concluded this weekend's concerts on Saturday night, I felt that Mr. Robertson's approach was perhaps a bit too detached and deliberate. When I witnessed his deeply passionate and committed reading on Sunday, it was obvious that what I was really hearing Saturday night was the cumulative distancing effect of microphones and signal processors, along with the bandwidth limitations of an Internet audio stream. There is, in fact, no real substitute for hearing this music live.

The Fourth is my favorite Tchaikovsky symphony. The composer poured all of his hope and despair into this most compact and dramatically expressive of all his essays in the genre. From the commanding "fate" motif first intoned by the brasses at the beginning to the nearly hysterical triumph of the finale, this is a piece that grabs you by the lapels and doesn't let go until the end.

Mr. Robertson and the orchestra were pretty near flawless here. The tempo and dynamic contrasts were well chosen and served the symphony's relentless sense of movement well. Timpanist Shannon Wood and his fellow percussionists performed heroically, and little individual instrumental moments that Tchaikovsky sprinkles throughout the work were done to perfection. Principal Oboe Jelena Dirks and Principal Bassoon Andrew Cuneo were singled out for solo bows at the end, but all the players sounded at the top of their game.

As I noted at the top, the orchestra will be in New York this weekend, but there is a Youth Orchestra concert on Sunday, March 22, at 3 p.m. The orchestra returns to the Powell Hall stage March 27-29 for a showing of the movie classic "The Godfather" with Nino Rota's score performed live on stage, and the regular season resumes on Friday, April 10, with Mozart and Shostakovich conducted by Hannu Lintu. For more information: stlsymphony.org.

Concert review: Beethoven premieres show off the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra and Chorus Friday and Saturday, January 23 and 24, 2015

David Robertson

Who: The St. Louis Symphony Orchestra and Chorus conducted by David Robertson
What: An all-Beethoven concert
Where: Powell Symphony Hall, St. Louis
When: Friday and Saturday, January 23 and 24, 2015

If the 1807 premiere of Beethoven's "Mass in C major" at the court of Prince Nikolaus Esterházy had been as good as the performance we got from David Robertson and the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra and Chorus Friday night, the prince might have been less of a jerk with the composer afterwards.

[Find out more about the music with my symphony preview and the SLSO program notes.]

As it was, the shoddy effort by an ill-prepared and apathetic chorus left the prince baffled. "My dear Beethoven," he remarked, "what have you written there?" Beethoven was not amused, and it would be a number of years before the work began to gain a following.

Even so, it has never gotten the same attention as Beethoven's other major choral works—especially the earlier "Christus am Ölberge," ("Christ on the Mount of Olives") and the later "Missa Solemnis"—and this weekend's performances were the first by the SLSO. Which makes the high quality of what we heard Friday night that much more impressive.

The chorus carries most of the burden in the mass, and Amy Kaiser's forces were more than equal to the occasion, displaying that mix of power and finesse that I have come to expect from them. This was especially apparent in the "Credo," the longest and most elaborate of the five sections and the dramatic heart of the work. It's a remarkably exuberant declaration of faith from a man who was not necessarily all that devout, and the symphony choristers gave it a thrilling reading. They were equally at home in the more lyrical passages, especially the hushed "donna nobis pacem" that concludes the sometimes stormy "Agnus dei."

The score calls for four soloists, but they serve a mostly ancillary role, adding decoration and emphasis. That said, we had a quartet of very solid voices here in the persons of soprano Kate Reimann, mezzo-soprano Johanna Nordhorn, tenor Keith Boyer, and bass-baritone Jeffrey Heyl. All four are chorus members as well as familiar figures on the local opera and concert scene, and acquitted themselves well.

There was wonderful work from the orchestra here also. There are some important and very exposed solo passages in the "Agnus Dei," and they came through with wonderful clarity Friday night.

The other big Beethoven piece on the program was the genial "Symphony No. 8" in F major, Op. 83. Written at the same time as the more popular and flashy Seventh, the symphony is, in the words of the Philadelphia Orchestra's Christopher H. Gibbs, "a shorter, lighter, and far more good-humored work than its imposing neighbors, the relentless Seventh and the towering Ninth." Listening to this witty and playful music, it's hard to believe that it was written at a time when the composer was embroiled in an ugly and ultimately futile quarrel with his brother over the latter's love life.

Here, as in the "Mass" Mr. Robertson appeared to have incorporated some of the ideas of the HIP (Historically Informed Performance) set into his approach to "big band" Beethoven. Aside from the tympani (which appeared to be reproductions of the kind of smaller drum Beethoven would have recognized) the instruments were all modern and the ensemble was larger than it would have been in Beethoven's time, but the performances had the kind of snap and drive that I tend to associate with guys like Roger Norrington. I have heard this same influence in the past—most recently in his Mozart "Jupiter" last week. As a fan of the HIP approach, I'm all for it.

Mr. Robertson seemed especially in tune with the whimsical spirit of the Eighth symphony. I'm all for that as well.

The concerts opened with a truly rara avis, the "Three Equali for Four Trombones," written at the request of Franz Xaver Glöggl, the music director of the Linz Cathedral, for an All Soul's Day celebration in 1812. They constitute, in the words of New York Philharmonic annotator James M. Keller, "one of the most curious items in [Beethoven's] entire catalogue." The three short chorales gave four members of the SLSO trombone section a rare chance to take the spotlight, and they delivered the goods.

As an old trombone player myself I am, I suppose, a bit biased, but I must admit that it was a pleasure to hear the precision with which Timothy Myers, Amanda Stewart, Jonathan Reycraft, and bass trombonist Gerard Pagano (who could easily win a G.B Shaw look-like contest) played and even breathed in unison. Yes, I know the two go together, but it's still marvelous to see.

Next at Powell Hall: The regular season continues next week as Nicholas McGegan conducts the orchestra in a program of music by the Johann Sebastian Bach family on Friday at 10:30 a.m. and 8 p.m. and Saturday at 8 p.m., January 30 and 31. Soloists are Andrea Kaplan and Jennifer Nitchman, flutes; Jelena Dirks and Philip Ross, oboe; Asako Kuboki and Ann Fink, violin; and Melissa Brooks, cello. The concerts take place at Powell Symphony Hall, 718 North Grand in Grand Center. For more information: stlsymphony.org.

Protest at Powell: Brahms' German Requiem comes home

reason.com

Political controversy isn't something that pops up often in connection with the St. Louis Symphony, but last Saturday a brief and well-organized protest just before the second half of an all-Brahms program gained national attention—and made the #Brahms and #Requiem hashtags trending items on Twitter.

For those of you who somehow missed it, here, according to the St. Louis Post-Dispatch web site, is what happened at the Saturday, October 4th, concert by the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra and Chorus just after intermission, as guest conductor Markus Stenz prepared to lead the orchestra and chorus in Brahms' "German Requiem":

The orchestra and chorus were preparing to perform Johannes Brahms' Requiem just after intermission when two audience members in the middle aisle on the main floor began singing "Which Side are You On?" - an organized labor tune with origins in the infamous 1931 Harlan, Kentucky coal strike.

They soon were joined, in harmony, by other protesters, who stood at seats in various locations on the main floor and in the balcony.

The protesters then unfurled three hand-painted banners and hung them from the Dress Circle boxes. One banner listed the birth and death date of Brown, who was shot by Ferguson police Officer Darren Wilson on Aug. 9.

The five-minute interruption was met with a smattering of applause from some audience members, as well as members of the orchestra and chorus. Others simply watched as the orchestra remained silent.

The protest ended quietly as participants left voluntarily, chanting, "Black lives matter." Conductor Markus Stenz resumed the concert shortly thereafter.

You can see a video of the event on YouTube, courtesy of the St. Louis American.

Reactions afterwards varied, largely breaking along the racial and political lines that you might expect. Those who were convinced that Brown was the victim of police violence approved, those who were equally convinced that he was (as one concert-goer was overheard o say) "a thug" were outraged. For me, though, the most appropriate response came from Post-Dispatch music critic Sarah Bryan Miller in her review of the concert, where she simply noted that the "next words heard were sung from the stage, 'Selig sind, die da Leid tragen,' in Martin Luther's translation of the words of Jesus: 'Blest are they that mourn.'"

Brahms in 1853

What would Brahms have made of this? Speculation is dangerous, but it's worth noting that Brahms, an agnostic, made a great point of removing many of the explicitly Christian elements of the classic requiem mass. In fact, as teacher and essayist Nancy Thuleen writes in her article on the "German Requiem," Brahms "was heard to insist that his Requiem was intended for all humanity, despite (or indeed because of) its title; its innate themes of melancholy and consolation are applicable to any number of occasions." Including, perhaps, the occasion of mourning for a life lost.

As SLSO Chorus director Amy Kaiser points out in the concert's program notes, the "German Requiem" is "all about comfort for the living. People consider it a healing piece. There's no Dies irae. There is the sound of the last trumpet, but it's joyful, not fearful. A victory over death."

As I have noted previously, I'm one of the (apparently) small number of people in the world who still isn't sure what happened on the street in Ferguson, Missouri, back in August. But a young man is dead before his time, and if you're going to publicly mourn that event, doing it in company with Brahms isn't the worst idea in the world. It's a shame, though, that the protesters didn't feel they could stay for the rest of the concert; Brahms' music might have had a chance to demonstrate those healing powers of which Ms. Kaiser spoke. Heaven only knows, we could all use some of that these days.

Symphony Preview: Last Thoughts

Amy Kaiser
stlsymphony.org

"It's a major work," says St. Louis Symphony Chorus Director Amy Kaiser in the program notes for this weekend's concerts, " full of challenges: complex fugues, expressive segments, rich in harmonic details. It's a choral symphony, really." She's talking about the piece that takes up almost the entire program at Powell Hall, Brahms's "Ein deutches requiem" ("A German Requiem").

At around seventy minutes (depending on the conductor's tempo choices) the "German Requiem" is the longest thing Brahms wrote, and one of the most deeply felt. Begun just after the death of the composer's mother in 1865 and incorporating material that Brahms had written after the suicide attempt of his mentor Robert Schumann eleven years earlier, the "Requiem" is both a work of mourning and of solace. "The work is all about comfort for the living," notes Ms. Kaiser. "People consider it a healing piece. There's no Dies irae. There is the sound of the last trumpet, but it's joyful, not fearful. A victory over death."

It's hard to say which death affected Brahms more profoundly: that of his mother or that of Schumann, his great friend and musical father figure, nine years earlier. What's clear is that the combination provided the inspiration for one of the composer's most important works, and one that brought him considerable respect and admiration. The 1868 premiere of the complete seven-movement version (earlier drafts had gotten public performances as early as 1866) at a private performance in Bremen was a hit, as were subsequent public performances in Cologne and Leipzig. It quickly gained acceptance with audiences, critics and, perhaps most importantly, with choruses.

Brahms, later in life

But that's hardly surprising. As Reneé Spencer Saller points out in her program notes, Brahms really knew how to write for the human voice, especially the low female voice (mezzo-soprano and contralto). "Most composers give sopranos all the best parts," she observes, "but Brahms's fondness for the duskier timbres is evident throughout his vocal music, particularly in A German Requiem." The work features solo parts for soprano (5th movement) and baritone (3rd and 6th), but the four-part chorus does most of the heavy lifting, making it an appealing choice for mixed chorus. Brahms also created a reduction for two pianos that could be substituted for the orchestra, making the piece that much more accessible for ensembles with limited budgets.

That's not to say that it was a big hit everywhere. Predominantly Catholic countries were initially cool towards it, primarily because of its Lutheran orientation (the text uses German language passages from the Lutheran bible) and because Brahms, ever the agnostic, de-emphasizes the Christians aspects of the traditional text of the requiem. As Ms. Saller writes, the work "shattered nearly every rule for requiems. It never mentions Jesus Christ by name and completely avoids the topic of Judgment Day. Its real subject is not divine grace and paradise but human grief and transience. It does not mourn the dead so much as console the living. Despite its focus on death, the word that appears most often in the text is, unexpectedly,'Freude,' or'joy.'"

And then there was the usual carping from Wagner and his clique, who hated Brahms and everything he produced. Brahms's work was seen as the diametric opposite of Wagner's "music of the future," making him a kind of musical Great Satan. "The importance of Wagner's stance toward Brahms cannot be overemphasized," writes teacher and essayist Nancy Thuleen. "[M]any critics echoed Wagner's sentiments, and while some devoted serious attention to an analysis of what they considered to be the work's particular flaws, others continued with vague polemicisms and ad hominem attacks against the composer, his beliefs and religion, and above all his 'academic' attitude toward music." Still, the power of the work could not be denied, and by the end of the 19th century it was widely regarded as an established classic.

I'm going to forgo any detailed musical analysis here since Ms. Saller has provided such a concise and readable one in her notes. Those of you looking for deeper background could do worse than Ms. Thuleen's well-researched essay on the subject and, of course, there's always good old Wikipedia. Besides, words really can't do this music justice; you'll want to hear it live.

Detlev Glanert
boosey.com

The concerts open with a bit of old wine in new bottles: "Vier Präludien und ernste Gesänge" ("Four Preludes and Serious Songs"). It's an arrangement of Brahms's op. 121 "Four Serious Songs" (his last published work) for baritone and orchestra (the original is for baritone and piano) by contemporary German composer Detlev Glanert (born 6 September 1960). The songs are pure Brahms, but the preludes that separate them are a mix of the two composers. Quoted in the program notes Glanert says of the original music: "...I tried to use it and transform it like a stylistic muscle, so that the music starts in his world, is sliding slowly into our world, and then falling back again." Composed in 2005, this unique work is having its local premiere this week.

Speaking of premieres, both the conductor and soprano soloist are making their St. Louis debuts this week. At the podium is Markus Stenz, Principal Conductor of the Netherlands Radio Philharmonic Orchestra, Principal Guest Conductor of the Halle Orchestra, and Principal Guest Conductor designate of the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra. His globe-trotting resume includes six seasons as the Artistic Director and Chief Conductor of the Melbourne Symphony Orchestra as well as a "Ring" cycle in Shanghai and a BBC Proms appearance; busy guy.

Soprano Carolyn Thompson gets around as well, mostly in the USA and UK. She has performed with the English National Opera, Glyndebourne Festival Opera and Opéra de Paris, among others, as well as at the Boston Early Music Festival. Her repertoire is wide-ranging, from the title role in Lully's "Psyche?" to Anne Truelove in Stravinsky's "The Rake's Progress."

Our baritone soloist, on the other hand, will be familiar both to symphony audiences as well as to Opera Theatre regulars. Bass-baritone Patrick Carfizzi scored a real hit at OTSL this summer as the wily Dulcamara in a wonderful production of Donizetti's "The Elixir of Love" and was also part of the cast of the the much-praised concert version of Britten's "Peter Grimes" that the SLSO took to Carnegie Hall last fall.

The essentials: Markus Stenz conducts the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra and Chorus, along with soloists Carolyn Sampson, soprano, and Patrick Carfizzi, bass-baritone, in Brahms's "German Requiem" and "Four Preludes and Serious Songs" (arranged and augmented by Detlev Glanert) Saturday at 8 p.m. and Sunday at 3 p.m., October 4 and 5. The Saturday concert will be broadcast on St. Louis Public Radio, 90.7 FM, HD 1, and via Internet streaming. The concerts take place at Powell Symphony Hall, 718 North Grand in Grand Center. For more information: stlsymphony.org.

St. Louis classical calendar for the week of April 14, 2014

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The St. Louis Symphony Orchestra presents a concert featuring violinist Julia Son and cellist Eric Cho, this year's winners of the annual Artist Presentation Society Youth Orchestra competition, on Wednesday, April 16, at 7:00 PM. The concert is part of the STL Symphony in the City series. “They will perform their winning selections and team up in this Mentors and Proteges concert with some of their music mentors, Hiroko Yoshida, violin, Ken Kulosa, cello, and Vera Parkin, piano, to perform additional chamber selections.” The concert takes place at Powell Symphony Hall, 718 North Grand. For more information: stlsymphony.org/symphony_city.

Amy Kaiser

The St. Louis Symphony's Young Friends of the Symphony presents Sips and Symphonies on Thursday, April 17, at 7:30 PM. “What is Sips and Symphonies? It is a great way to learn about music in a fun, casual environment. On the third Thursday of each month, we get together at Tavern of Fine Arts to listen to and discuss a piece of music being performed at an upcoming concert at Powell Hall. We will have a different guest moderator each month who will help lead an informal conversation about the music.” A special cocktail is created for each event to accompany the music. This month, symphony chorus director Amy Kaiser will discuss Orff's Carmina Burana. The event takes place at The Tavern of Fine Arts, 313 Belt in the Debaliviere Place neighborhood. For more information: tavern-of-fine-arts.blogspot.com.

Third Baptist Church presents an organ concert on Friday, April 118, at 12:30 PM as part of its free Friday Pipes series. "Join us on Fridays at Third Baptist Church for Friday Pipes, the free organ recital series celebrating the restoration of the church's 72-rank Kilgen/Möller pipe organ. Each week a different performer will be presenting a program of classical, church, and theatre organ music in the beautiful sanctuary of Third Baptist. This season's performers come from across the USA, and even from around the world. Free parking is available in the church lots on Washington Avenue." This week's featured performer is Andrew Peters, Pastoral Musician with Second Presbyterian Church. Third Baptist Church is at 620 N Grand. For more information: www.third-baptist.org.

Dr. Thomas Zirkle

The Tavern of Fine Arts presents a classical open stage night on Monday, March 14 from 7:30 – 9 PM. “Come by yourself or bring your quartet. Sight read through a Beethoven quartet or use this as an opportunity to put the finishing touches on that Hindemith Viola Sonata you have been working on. All ages and skill levels are welcome. We have a 6' grand piano and an accompanist.” The Tavern of Fine Arts is at 313 Belt in the Debaliviere Place neighborhood. For more information: tavern-of-fine-arts.blogspot.com.

The Tavern of Fine Arts presents a marimba concert by Dr. Thomas Zirkle of St. Louis Community College at Forest Park on Friday, April 18, at 8 PM. This concert will feature music composed (or transcribed) for the marimba. The Tavern of Fine Arts is at 313 Belt in the Debaliviere Place neighborhood. For more information: tavern-of-fine-arts.blogspot.com.

Great Britten

Anthony Dean Griffey as Peter Grimes in Toronto

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Who: The St. Louis Symphony Orchestra and Chorus conducted by David Robertson
What: Benjamin Britten's Peter Grimes
When: Saturday, November 16, at 8 PM
Where: Powell Symphony Hall

Writing in the Larousse Encyclopedia of Music, Donald Paine notes that Benjamin Britten's "War Requiem," written for the consecration of Coventry Cathedral in 1962, "may stand as representative of his genius and of the theme that recurs throughout his work: the indictment of human folly as it shows itself both in the tragedy and wastage of war and in the corruption of human innocence."

Those themes are present both in the "War Requiem" and in Britten's 1945 tragic opera "Peter Grimes."  Coincidentally, both works are being performed this weekend in the Midwest: the "War Requiem" in a series of concerts in Chicago Thursday through Sunday and "Peter Grimes" in a special concert performance on Saturday night here in St. Louis by the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra and Chorus.

The Chicago performances are part of the Chicago Symphony's regular subscription series.  The Saturday special here is a preview of the "Peter Grimes" the symphony will be presenting in Carnegie Hall in New York on Friday, November 22nd—the 100th anniversary of Britten's birth.  It's one of over 1000 special concert events being presented this year to celebrate the great English composer's centenary; you can see a complete list at the Britten 100 web site.

Benjamin Britten
London Records 1968
publicity photo

Born in East Anglia in 1913, Britten studied composition with Frank Bridge and John Ireland.  He lived in the USA from 1939 to 1942 and then returned to settle in Aldeburgh, Suffolk, where he would remain the rest of his life.  Although he got international attention with his "Variations on a Theme of Frank Bridge" for strings in 1937, it wasn't until the 1940s that his music began to achieve widespread acceptance, with performances of his "Ceremony of Carols" (a worldwide favorite around this time of year), the "Sinfonia da Requiem," and, of course, "Peter Grimes"—a huge hit with audiences and critics alike in 1945.  By the time Britten died in 1976 he was firmly established as one of the most important figures in 20th century music.

Most classical fans are familiar with the "Four Sea Interludes from Peter Grimes."  These little gems are powerfully evocative of the geographical and psychological landscape of the opera.  They're also a nice distillation of what you can expect from the complete performance of the opera on Saturday.

Inspired by a section of the poem "The Borough" by clergyman and poet George Crabbe (1754-1832), the story revolves around the persecution of the title character – a sullen and socially awkward fisherman – by the denizens of a small coastal fishing village.  In the poem he's a clear villain but in Montagu Slater's libretto it's ambiguous how much of Grimes's tragic end is his fault and how much the result of persecution by villagers.  What's not ambiguous is that, even at the relatively young age of 31, Britten was already a master of orchestral color and mood.

"Britten," writes Paul Schiavo in his program notes, "declared that the struggle between the exceptional individual and society was ‘a subject very close to my heart.' That Peter Grimes portrays that struggle through a decidedly flawed character, less hero than anti-hero, makes it a challenging work but not a less compelling one."  It's also possible that Britten intended the work to serve, to some extent, as a condemnation of the homophobia which Britten, as a gay man, saw quite clearly in British society.

The soloists for Saturday's performance include tenor Anthony Dean Griffey as Peter Grimes (a role he has sung often, including at the Metropolitan Opera in New York), soprano Susanna Phillips as schoolmistress Ellen Orford (who suspects—but can't prove—that Grimes might be abusing his young apprentice, John), bass-baritone Alan Held as Captain Balstrode (in whom Ellen confides), and contralto Meredith Arwady as Auntie (who helps stir the mob up against Grimes).  David Robertson conducts the orchestra and chorus.

The chorus plays an important narrative role in "Peter Grimes," so precision in singing and diction will be important.  Fortunately chorus director Amy Kaiser has an awfully good track record in that regard.

"Peter Grimes" is a big undertaking for the symphony, which does a relatively small number of chorus and orchestra pieces every season and rarely anything on quite this scale.  Those chorus and orchestra concerts have, however, generally been season highlights, so I think you'll find it interesting to see and hear the results—and to see what the New York critics have to say on the 22nd.

"Peter Grimes" will be performed on Saturday, November 16, at 8 PM at Powell Hall and will be broadcast on St. Louis Public Radio at 90.7 FM, HD 1, and via streaming at the station's web site.  For more information: stlsymphony.org.