Showing posts with label beehoven. Show all posts
Showing posts with label beehoven. Show all posts

Sunday, March 17, 2019

Review: Anthony Marwood does it all in an evening of Haydn and Beethoven

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

Antony Marwood
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It's a tribute to the professionalism of our St. Louis Symphony Orchestra musicians that they can play like a single organism even when there's not somebody waving a stick at them.

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

Yes, that's right: there was no conductor on the podium for the concert Friday night (March 15, 2019) of works by Beethoven and Haydn. Indeed, there was no podium at all. That's because violin soloist Anthony Marwood also filled the roles of conductor/leader ("leader" is concertmaster to us Yanks). When not actively playing his violin, he led the orchestra with a mix of eye contact and body language that kept everything moving along smoothly, even during the demanding Beethoven Violin Concerto that took up the second half of the program.

Talk about being the hardest working man in show business!

Historically speaking, of course, it wasn't all that unusual for the conductor to also be a member of the ensemble--most commonly the keyboard player. Handel, for example, got his first big break as an opera composer ("Almira," which he wrote in 1705 at age 19) in part because he had the very visible job of harpsichordist/conductor at a theater in Hamburg. Still, it's rare these days.

It's also rare to see most of the orchestra (everybody but the cellists, whose instruments mandate a chair, and the bassoonists) performing standing rather than seated. I don't know whether or not that was common practice in the late 18th and early 19th centuries when the works on this weekend's program were written, but it did seem to allow for a degree of physical involvement with the music that wouldn't be quite so easy to come by had everyone been seated. All that exposed wood on stage also seemed to produce a bigger and brighter sound than I would have expected, given that Mr. Marwood was working with a smaller orchestra (a little over 30 musicians; very appropriate for the period).

Standing room only on stage
The concert opened with a light and charming Beethoven miniature, his "Romance No. 2." Written when the composer was in his late 20s, it's sweetly melodic with occasional glimpses of the drama that would characterize Beethoven's later work. It got an elegant and varied performance from Mr. Marwood and the orchestra.

Up next was Haydn's Symphony No. 44 in E minor, published in 1772. It's known as the "Treuer" ("mourning") symphony mostly because of the contemplative tone of the Adagio third movement, although the dark and driven feel of the other three movements seems to fit with the nickname as well. It's one of several symphonies Haydn wrote that were inspired by the Sturm und Drang ("storm and stress") movement in 18th century German literature and music that emphasized drama and conflict.

Conductor Kenneth Woods once called this symphony "a work conceived in fire and bathed in blood." I don't know about the blood, but there was certainly fire and dramatic power in Mr. Marwood's interpretation, especially in the contrast between his serenely contemplative third movement and powerful urgency of his fourth. There was some excellent playing from the band here as well, including some particularly lovely work in the second movement by Thomas Jöstlein and Chris Dwyer on horns.

The Beethoven concerto took up the second half of the concert and here, again, Mr. Marwood proved as capable a conductor as he was a soloist. I would have liked a bit more drama in the first movement, but his playing was impeccable, including an impressive, flashy cadenza of his own devising, based on one Sarasota Music Festival director Robert Levin prepared for (I think) the Henle Urtext edition of the concerto.

The second movement was wonderfully warm and heartfelt, with a nice solo by Principal Clarinet Scott Andrews, and the Rondo finale tripped along happily with strong dynamic contrasts, another striking Levin-inspired cadenza, and an irresistible sense of momentum that had Mr. Marwood almost to dancing in spots. My minor misgivings about the first movement not withstanding, this was a performance that had real visceral power overall.

Friday night's concert will be repeated Saturday at 8 pm and Sunday at 3 pm, March 16 and 17, at Powell Symphony Hall in Grand Center. Next weekend, Gilbert Varga conducts the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra, along with cellist Daniel Müller-Schott. The program consists of "The Sorcerer's Apprentice" by Dukas, Lalo's Cello Concerto, and the Franck Symphony in D minor. Performances are Friday at 10:30 am and Saturday at 8 pm, March 22 and 23.

Sunday, February 02, 2014

Taking the Fifth

Jaap van Zweden
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Who: The St. Louis Symphony conducted by Jaap van Zweden
What: Music of Beethoven and Shostakovich
When: January 31 – February 2, 2014
Where: Powell Symphony Hall

It was a case of saving the best for last this weekend as the St. Louis Symphony concluded its four-week "Beethoven Festival" with stunning performances by guest conductor Jaap van Zweden of the Fifth symphonies of Beethoven and a composer who greatly admired Beethoven, Dmitri Shostakovich.

The pairing of these two symphonies isn't just a clever gimmick. Both works, as Paul Schiavo points out in his program notes, are works "of strife or pathos progressing to exultant finales. That progression makes for a musical drama that is both elemental and thrilling."  That said, these two symphonies come from vastly different worlds—and not just because one was written 120 years after the other.

The Beethoven is certainly the more famous and less ambiguous of the two.  "Beethoven's Fifth Symphony," wrote English scholar and BBC classical music producer Basil Lam back in 1966, "was the first of a new kind of symphony, which, because it expressed in musical terms the optimistic humanist philosophy, became almost the norm in the nineteenth century."  The message of triumph through struggle could not be clearer, especially in the exultant final pages of the last movement where, as Mr. Schiavo writes, "the dramatic passage from darkness to light, from despair to joy—that is the “meaning” of the finale and the goal of the entire symphony."

That's not to say that there aren't plenty of traps for the unwary conductor. Tempi have to be carefully chosen (especially now that "original instrument" guys like Roger Norrington have shown us the kind of excitement you can generate by paying attention to those metronome markings) and the overall interpretation has to maintain a sense of momentum and progress towards that joyous finale without feeling rushed and without neglecting the many wonderful orchestral details Beethoven provided. 

None of this posed a problem for Mr. van Zweden and the orchestra, though.  The first movement was crisp and incisive, setting the stage for the dramatically charged (and bracingly brisk) reading that was to follow.  The second movement Andante con moto was expressive but never lugubrious and the scherzo was appropriately mysterious.  And the finale was, indeed, joyous.

Those orchestral details referred to above came through with great clarity as well.  The entrance of the basses and cellos at the beginning of the fugato section of the scherzo was exceptionally dramatic, I thought, and the winds were lovely throughout.  This was, in other words, a Beethoven Fifth that was perfectly balanced and even, at times, revelatory.  Which, for a piece this well known, is saying something.

Shostakovich's Fifth has a complex history.  The composer wrote it quickly (in three months) in 1937, partly in response to harsh criticism of his surreal and lurid 1934 opera "Lady Macbeth of the Mtsensk District" by the Stalin regime.  "The opera disappeared overnight," notes Michael Tilson Thomas in an episode of the PBS series "Keeping Score" on the Fifth, "and every publication and political organization in the country heaped personal attacks on its composer."

This was at the height of that outbreak of official violence now known as the Stalinist Terror, so being blacklisted didn't just put your career in jeopardy but your life as well.  The composer set out, therefore, to produce a work that would appear, at least on the surface, to meet the demands of heroic socialist realism. He even went so far as to accompany the first performance with an article in the Moscow newspaper Vechernyaya Moskva titled "A Soviet Artist’s Reply to Just Criticism"—lest there be any doubt that he had Learned His Lesson.

It worked.  Shostakovich was officially rehabilitated and for many years afterwards the Fifth was seen, even in the West, as a classic example of Triumph through Struggle.  It was only many years later, when the composer's private thoughts about the Fifth began to come to light, that it became apparent there might be a deeper meaning to this music—a meaning apparent to the opening night audience in Leningrad in 1937, even if the commissars missed it.  "Many in the premiere audience were seen to weep openly," writes Richard Freed, in his notes for Leonard Slatkin's 1986 recording with the SLSO. "[T]hey wept, Shostakovich himself felt, because 'they understood; they understood what was happening around them and they understood what the Fifth was about.'"

Listening to it now, it's impossible not to hear despair and defiance instead of patriotic uplift, especially in the ominous mock fanfare of the opening and the succession of aggressive march tunes in the finale. The second movement Allegretto is a Mahlerian parody of a waltz, complete with squawking clarinet (nicely done by Dana Haskell in the E-flat clarinet, an instrument that doesn't get many solos, along with fellow single reeders Scott Andrews and Tina Ward) and, unexpectedly, a graceful little violin (David Halen, in a fine moment with the harps). And the third movement Largo clearly feels like lament for all the friends and family the composer lost to the Terror, memorialized with chorale-like string writing (rendered with great intensity by the symphony strings) that calls to mind the liturgy of the banned Russian Orthodox Church.

Mr. van Zweden's interpretation, while not downplaying the music's drama, sounded very much informed by the tragic and defiant subtext of this piece.  The trumpets in the first movement march had an aggressive and mocking snarl, for example, and the mournful little celesta figure that closes the movement was allowed to die into a brief and telling silence.  The dark comedy of the second movement came through loud and clear and the Largo was just as heartbreaking as it should have been.  I can only imagine what it must have meant to an audience in 1937, most of whom would have lost friends and family to the Terror (as did the composer himself).

The biggest challenge with the Fifth, though, is the finale.  Take it one way (usually with faster tempi) and it becomes, as Shostakovich wrote at the time of the work's premiere, "the optimistic resolution of the tragically tense moments of the first movement."  Change it just a bit, and it becomes a parody of militaristic triumphalism.  Mr. van Zweden's interpretation felt like it emphasized the latter while still allowing us to understand what Stalin and company thought they heard.  I'd say that's masterful.

The St. Louis Symphony's intoxicating pair of Fifths will be performed again tonight (Saturday, February 1) at 8 PM and Sunday at 3 PM at Powell Hall in Grand Center.  The Saturday concert will be broadcast live on St. Louis Public Radio at 90.7 FM, HD 1, and streaming from the station web site.  But, of course, it’s best heard live.

Next on the schedule: James Gaffigan conducts with soloists David Halen (violin) and Daniel Lee (cello) in the Brahms "Double Concerto," along with Mendelsshon’s "Symphony No. 3" and "The Fair Melusina Overture."  Performances take place on Friday at 10:30 AM, Saturday at 8 PM and Sunday at 3 PM, February 7 - 9, at Powell Symphony Hall, 718 North Grand.  For more information: stlsymphony.org.

Monday, January 13, 2014

Roll over, Beethoven

Andrey Boreyko
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Who: The St. Louis Symphony conducted by Andrey Boreyko with violinist Adele Anthony
What:  Music of Stephanie Berg, Nielsen, and Beethoven
When: Friday and Saturday, January 10 and 11, 2014
Where: Powell Symphony Hall

The first of the St. Louis Symphony's "Beethoven Festival" concerts this weekend brought exciting performances by guest conductor Andrey Boreyko of three works, each separated by nearly a century: Beethoven's "Symphony No. 7 in A major", Op. 92 (first performed in 1813), Carl Nielsen's Op. 33 "Violin Concerto" (1912 premiere), and "Ravish and Mayhem", a colorful little tone poem by Missouri composer Stephanie Berg from 2012 that opened the evening.

New music at the symphony isn't often greeted with wild applause. More often the reaction is polite (if somewhat baffled) approval from audience members who aren't sure whether they missed something important or whether, as Anna Russell once observed, the composer was just trying to get away with something.

Stephanie Berg
Not so with "Ravish and Mayhem," which drew enthusiastic ovations for both the orchestra and—when Mr. Boreyko persuaded her to appear on stage—Ms. Berg as well. Inspired, according to the composer, by a vision of "an ancient Middle Eastern street festival," this unabashedly cinematic and vivid piece was a delight from the opening Coplandesque fanfares and melismatic woodwind figures to the brass glissandi near the end that conjured up images of trumpeting elephants.

Yes, dear friends, it was the 21st century version of Ketèlbey's 1920 hit "In a Persian Market." And I mean that in the best way possible. Many contemporary composers, in my view, could benefit from trying to be a bit more like the late British master of "light music" and a bit less like (say) Karlheinz Stockhausen.
The symphony musicians handled this new work with the same ease they display with well-worn favorites. There were especially notable contributions by Andrea Kaplan (flute), Ann Choomack (piccolo), Scott Andrews (clarinet), and Diana Haskell (E-flat clarinet) in the lively opening section.

Next was Carl Nielsen's violin concerto, a work that, like many of the Danish master's symphonies and other larger works, often defies expectations in ways that can leave audience members a bit confused. Which might explain why the concerto wasn't heard at Powell until 2001 (nearly 90 years after its premiere) and hasn't returned since Robert Spano conducted a performance with Yang Liu in October of 2002. Adele Anthony was the soloist this time, and she gave us a thoroughly idiomatic and assured reading (as you might expect from a Carl Nielsen International Violin Competition winner), dashing off the cadenza and final pages of the Allegro cavalleresco that closes the first half of the concerto so impressively that she was awarded with a spontaneous burst of applause.

Adele Anthony
Personally, I've always loved Nielsen's music. I find the composer's joy in the unexpected and characteristic melodic voice immensely appealing. It would be nice to see more of it on the stage at Powell.

The evening closed with an exhilarating Beethoven "Symphony No. 7," beautifully shaped by Mr. Boreyko. He last conducted the orchestra in an all-Tchaikovsky program in November of 2012 that was distinguished by an electrifying performance of the "Violin Concerto" by Vadim Gluzman and a "Symphony No. 1" that exploited all of the work's extremes in tempi and dynamics while still pulling everything together into a coherent whole. The Beethoven Seventh comes from a more restrained emotional world than the Tchaikovsky First, but Mr. Boreyko nevertheless found and effectively exploited all the drama inherent in the music.

He displayed an unerring ability to build to an effective climax, both within movements (as in the opening Poco sostenuto) and in the overall structure of the symphony. The white-hot intensity of the finale was simply the inevitable conclusion of an arc that had been built from the first notes of the first movement—the conclusion of which got a round of spontaneous applause—and which ran through the steady rhythmic pulse of the second and the fleet-footed romp of the third. An enthusiastic and thoroughly justified standing ovation followed.

It's likely that the orchestra that first performed Beethoven's seventh was somewhat smaller than 73 musicians assembled for this weekend's performance, but they played with the crisp articulation and precision of a much smaller ensemble. Timpanist Shannon Wood, in particular, deserves a shout-out for exactitude and endurance during that remarkable final movement.

The Beethoven Festival continues this coming weekend with the "Piano Concerto No. 5" (the "Emperor") along with Weber's "Euryanthe Overture" and Bartók's "Concerto for Orchestra." Andrés Orozco-Estrada conducts with soloist Louis Lortie . Performances are Friday at 10:30 AM (a Krispy Kreme coffee concert), Saturday at 8 PM, and Sunday at 2 PM, January 17-19. For more information: stlsymphony.org.

Friday, March 01, 2013

TPTBT (The Place to Be Tonight): Friday, March 1

Who: Violinist Tasmin Little and the St. Louis Symphony conducted by Sir Andrew Davis
What: Elgar's Violin Concerto, plus music by Delius and Beethoven
Where: Powell Hall
When: tonight and Saturday at 8 PM
Why: "Acclaimed by The Guardian for her 'wistful, poetic and powerful' performances, violinist Tasmin Little makes her St. Louis Symphony debut with Elgar’s Violin Concerto, one of the last great romantic violin concertos." And, as some have suggested, a love letter to the wife of a member of Parliament. Guest conductor Sir Andrew Davis is one of the great champions of British music. The program also includes Delius's "Walk to the Paradise Garden" from A Village Romeo and Juliet as well as Beethoven's lively Symphony No. 4.

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