Review: Sing a song of Mozart

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

Bernard Labadie
Photo by David Cannon

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I'm always a bit sad when the turnout for a St. Louis Symphony Orchestra concert is on the light side, especially when it's a concert that deserved a bigger house. Those who showed up Friday night (March 16, 2018) to hear Bernard Labadie conduct the SLSO were rewarded with exceptional performances of music by Haydn (his "Symphony No. 99"), Mozart (a collection of six opera and concert arias) and Mozart's older contemporary, Henri-Joseph Rigel, represented by his dramatic "Symphony No. 1."

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

Born in Germany in 1741 (15 years before Mozart), Rigel spent most of his working life in Paris. He had a respectable career, but these days he's not much more than a historical footnote. His "Symphony in C minor" was a lively way to start the evening, in any case, with a fast and stormy first movement, a lilting and even danceable second, and a dramatic finale.

Mr. Labadie delivered a lively and engaging performance of the symphony, with more variety and contrast in the work than I expected, based on the recordings I had heard of the piece. This was especially true in the first movement, which had struck me as a bit monotonous until I heard his nuanced interpretation. The Largo non troppo second movement was appropriately graceful and the Allegro spiritoso finale had appealing energy.

The six Mozart arias were selected and performed by German soprano Lydia Teuscher. When she last appeared here (with Mr. Labadie in "The Messiah" in 2015) I was impressed by her ability to communicate the emotional core of her lyrics. That same ability to both act and sing persuasively was apparent in this varied collection.

Lydia Teuscher
Photo by Shirley Suarez

The emotional temperature here ranged from the baffled innocence of "Chi sà, chi sà, qual sia," written as the 18th-century equivalent of a "bonus track" for the opera "Il burbero di buon cuore" by Spanish composer Martin y Soler, to the lovelorn anguish of "Bella mia fiamma...Resta, oh cara." The latter was written while Mozart was preparing the Prague premiere of "Don Giovanni," and while it was composed as an independent concert work, its high drama makes it an aria that could (as James Leonard notes) have been sung by Donna Elvira "without breaking character."

Ms. Teuscher's fluid and supple voice floated through the coloratura passages in these arias with ease, while her performance remained firmly grounded in their emotional contexts. Her experience singing Mozart heroines in "Die Zauberflöte" ("The Magic Flute"), "Le nozze di Figaro" ("The Marriage of Figaro"), and "Don Giovanni" with multiple opera companies clearly showed in the solid mix of musical taste and theatrical commitment she displayed here.

In two of the six arias--"L'amerò, sarò costante" from the early opera "Il re pastore" and "Non più, tutto ascoltai" (written as an alternate opening number of "Idomeno")--Ms. Teuscher was accompanied by SLSO Concertmaster David Halen, whose golden-voiced instrument blended beautifully with her singing. Their work in the latter piece was especially impressive, given the virtuosity required of both the singer and violinist towards the end.

The concert concluded with what was, for me, the highlight of the evening: an essentially perfect performance of Haydn's "Symphony No. 99" in E-flat major. Written in 1793 for the second of the composer's two highly profitable trips to London, the work is classic Haydn from beginning to end, complete with little musical jokes, like the odd hesitation in the first movement, and unexpected twists and turns, like the second movement Adagio that starts lyrical but turns dramatic and even tragic in the middle. As he did with the Rigel symphony, Mr. Labadie found an impressive variety of moods in the music, and the orchestra responded with flawless playing. It was a very satisfying end to a concert that once again displayed Mr. Labadie's deep understanding of 18th-century music.

Next at Powell Hall: Resident Conductor Gemma New leads the SLSO in "Pinocchio in Funland," a Family Series concert, on Sunday, March 18, at 3 pm . She returns to the podium the following week to lead the SLSO and piccolo soloist Ann Choomack (of the SLSO flute section) Friday at 10:30 am, Saturday at 8 pm, and Sunday at 3 pm, March 23 -25. The program includes Rimsky-Korsakov's "Capriccio Espagnol" and Respighi's "The Pines of Rome", as well as works by Rautavaara and Tüür. 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.

Symphony Preview, December 3-6, 2015, Part the Second: A long-standing tradition

Apparently not everyone stands for the "Hallelujah"
(Josh Reynolds for The Boston Globe)

In a recent post I looked at the way Handel's Messiah got moved from Easter to Christmas. This time I'd like to take a look at an even more puzzling question: Why does everyone stand during the "Hallelujah" chorus that concludes Part 2?

The usual explanation is that King George the II stood when he first heard it at the London premiere in March of 1743 and everybody else followed suit because, hey, he was the king. It's a great story with only one little flaw: there's no evidence that George II ever attended a performance of Messiah at all. The story appears to come, not from a contemporary account, but (according to Matthew Guerrieri in a 2009 article for the Boston Globe, whence cometh the picture above) from a secondhand description in a letter written by James Beattie 37 years later (a classic example of how urban legends originate). The story is, in short, almost certainly apocryphal.

The tradition appears to go back a long way, though. When George Harris attended a Messiah performance in 1750 he observed that "[a]t some of the chorus's the company stood up," suggesting that the custom extended beyond just the "Hallelujah." Six years later, another account mentions the audience standing for "grand choruses." In his video series on Messiah Andrew Megill, Music Director of Masterwork Chorus, describes a letter written by a woman who attended a Messiah in Handel's time complaining of audience members who weren't standing during the appropriate choruses—suggesting that the practice was already fairly well established.

The bottom line, though, is that nobody really seems to know where the custom originated or, for that matter, why so many of us are still doing it. Like the Christmas performance tradition, it seems to be a meme that just won't die. For anyone attending Messiah for the first time, it must seem just another example of the sometimes baffling and contradictory rules of etiquette that go with classical music concerts.

The Essentials: Bernard Labadie conducts the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra and Chorus, with soloists Lydia Teuscher, soprano; Allyson McHardy, mezzo-soprano; Jeremy Ovenden, tenor; and Kyle Ketelsen, bass-baritone, in Handel's Messiah. Performances are Thursday through Saturday at 8 p.m. and Sunday at 3 p.m., December 3-6. The concerts take place at Powell Symphony Hall, 718 North Grand in Grand Center. For more information: stlsymphony.org.

Symphony Preview, December 3-6, 2015, Part the First: Why a "Messiah"?

G.F. Handel, prospering

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The Christmas season in upon us. For those of us keeping track of the entertainment scene, that means an inevitable encounter with at least one performance of all of the following: a stage adaptation of Dickens's A Christmas Carol (probably with music), Tchaikovsky's The Nutcracker, and Handel's Messiah. The latter is coming our way this weekend, in fact, from the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra and Chorus under the baton of early music specialist Bernard Labadie.

The Dickens and Tchaikovsky make perfect sense since they're both explicitly Christmas stories. But how did Messiah get in there? It was first performed on April 13th, 1742 in Dublin, repeated that same June, and then moved to London, where it was first presented on March 23, 1743. I can't find any evidence that the work was in any way associated with Christmas during Handel's life. In fact, as Christopher H. Gibbs points out in his program notes for a 2007 NPR broadcast of Messiah from Philadelphia , "Handel performed it some three dozen times—every time, it should be noted, around Easter, not Christmas." As Jonathan Kandell notes in an article for the September 2009 edition of Smithsonian, however, "[b]y the early 19th century, performances of Messiah had become an even stronger Yuletide tradition in the United States than in Britain."

An important piece of the puzzle is supplied is supplied by Luke Howard in his program notes for a 2009 Messiah performance by UMS Choral Union:

The tradition of performing Messiah at Christmas began later in the 18th century. Although the work was occasionally performed during Advent in Dublin, the oratorio was usually regarded in England as an entertainment for the penitential season of Lent, when performances of opera were banned. Messiah's extended musical focus on Christ's redeeming sacrifice also makes it particularly suitable for Passion Week and Holy Week, the periods when it was usually performed during Handel's lifetime. But in 1791, the Cæcilian Society of London began its annual Christmas performances, and in 1818 the Handel and Haydn Society of Boston gave the work's first complete performance in the US on Christmas Day—establishing a tradition that continues to the present.

It apparently took a while for the Christmas tradition to become well established, though. As Marie Gangemil of the Oratorio Society of New York wrote in her program notes for their 2012 Messiah, the first December performance by that organization didn't take place until 1874.

Bernard Labadie

But are these events sufficient to explain why the tradition became so widespread? Might there also be a supply and demand issue here? As Laurence Cummings (director of the London Handel Orchestra) observed in the Smithsonian article cited above: "There is so much fine Easter music—Bach's St. Matthew Passion, most especially—and so little great sacral music written for Christmas. But the whole first part of Messiah is about the birth of Christ."

So there you have it. Boston and New York picked up the idea from London, and the rest of the USA, seeing a chance to fill a product gap, picked it up from them. It's a reminder that memes were spreading long before the Internet, just a lot more slowly.

The Essentials: Bernard Labadie conducts the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra and Chorus, with soloists Lydia Teuscher, soprano; Allyson McHardy, mezzo-soprano; Jeremy Ovenden, tenor; and Kyle Ketelsen, bass-baritone, in Handel's Messiah. Performances are Thursday through Saturday at 8 p.m. and Sunday at 3 p.m., December 3-6. The concerts take place at Powell Symphony Hall, 718 North Grand in Grand Center. For more information: stlsymphony.org.

1764 And All That

Bernard Labadie

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Who: The St. Louis Symphony conducted by Bernard Labadie with soloists Philip Ross (oboe), Andrew Gott (bassoon), Kristin Ahlstrom (violin), and Melissa Brooks (cello)
What: Music of Rameau, Haydn, and Mozart
When: February 21-23, 2014
Where: Powell Symphony Hall

[Find out more about the music with the symphony program notes and my Symphony Preview article.]

Unless you've been holed up on the dark side of the moon lately, you've probably noticed that 2014 is the 250th anniversary of the founding of St. Louis. As a glance at the STL250 web site clearly shows, local celebrations of the event are popping up all over. This weekend the St. Louis Symphony is doing its part with a program that includes works composed between 1763 and 1792, including a Haydn symphony that's almost exactly the same age as our fair city.

Under the expert baton of early music specialist Bernard Labadie, the concerts show just how much variety there can be in a relatively small span of time.

Rameau

The concerts open with a lively suite of dances from Jean-Philippe Rameau's 1763 tragédie en musique "Les Boréades". Rameau was in the final year of his long and productive life when he wrote it (he died in 1764 at the age of 81), so he never saw it performed. No surprise there. What is surprising, as Mr. Labadie points out in his fascinating pre-concert remarks, is that due in part to legal issues over the performance rights, nobody else got to see it either for well over two centuries. Happily, the issues were resolved a decade ago, allowing audiences to enjoy Rameau's tuneful and inventive score.

The suite got a crisp and polished reading from Mr. Labadie and the orchestra. The fanciful "Gavottes pour les heures" was especially fun, with Andrea Kaplan and Ann Choomack on piccolo joining Andrew Cuneo and Henry Skolnick on bassoon (the latter at the very top of their registers) to perfectly conjure up whirling clockwork. The suite is short—two of the dances listed in the program were cut, presumably because of the length of the concert overall—but nicely chosen and thoroughly entertaining.

Up next was Haydn's "Sinfonia concertante in B-flat major," Hob. I:105. A Classical-era revision of the Baroque concerto grosso, works in the sinfonia concertante mold featured an ensemble of solo players with orchestra instead of the single soloist that would later characterize the concerto form. In this case it's a solo quartet: violin, cello, oboe, and bassoon.

Haydn portrait by
Thomas Hardy (1757-c. 1805)

It's the "newest" piece on the program, dating from 1792 and written for the composer's first trip to London, where he was embraced with open arms and open purses as well. A contemporary review raved about it, saying that it "combined with all the excellencies of music" and was "was profound, airy, affecting, and original." That's as good a description as any of this consistently engaging work, with its clear and concise structure (it clocks in at 22 minutes) and Haydn's characteristic good humor.

That good humor is especially apparent in the final movement, in which the violin has to restate the main theme three times before the orchestra "gets it." Symphony annotator Paul Schiavo sees it as a humorous portrayal of a music lesson, although to me it sounded more like an operatic recitative followed by an aria. Either way, the violin and cello get in the last word, with short flourishes at the very tops of their registers just before the final chords.

The solo quartet consists entirely members of the home team: Acting Co-Principal oboe Philip Ross, Associate Principal bassoon Andrew Gott, Associate Principal Second Violin Kirstin Ahlstrom, and Associate Principal cello Melissa Brooks. It's always good to see the local folks in the spotlight, especially when they play with such seemingly effortless grace. Their sound was perfectly balanced, both within the solo group and against the orchestra.

The second half of the concert features symphonies by the two giants of the Classical period, Haydn and Mozart. We begin with Haydn's 1764 "Symphony No. 22 in E-flat major." It's nicknamed "The Philosopher" for any number of reasons, depending on whom you ask. In his post-intermission commentary, Mr. Labadie opined that it refers to the way the dialog between the horns and English horns (the darker-toned cousins of the oboe) in the stately first movement imitates the Socratic "question and answer" style of teaching. To me, the entire movement has always conjured up the image of a thoughtful academic carefully laying out a mathematical proof or explaining a complex philosophical issue. Your mileage may vary.

Here, as in the rest of the program, Mr. Labadie drew fine performances from the orchestra, with tempi that felt historically right. The dialog between horns Thomas Jöstlein and Anna Spina and English horns Cally Banham and Michelle Duskey was right on the money and the third movement Menuetto had a "folk dance" feel that was, I expect, very much what Haydn had in mind.

Detail of Mozart portrait by
Johann Nepomuk della Croce
(1736-1819)

The final work on the program—Mozart's "Symphony No. 39 in E-flat major," K. 543—is the first of a set of three that the composer dashed off in a burst of creativity in the summer of 1788. It gets less attention than the other two, much as a normal human being would be less noticed standing next to a pair of NFL linebackers, but that doesn't make it any less a great composition, neatly melding Baroque counterpoint with Classical clarity.

Mr. Labadie conducted without a score, so it's obviously a work he knows intimately. He gave it a lean, energetic reading that made the most of the work's drama (especially in the Andante con moto second movement) without tipping over into exaggeration. The little Alpine waltz of the Menuetto: Allegretto third movement was most charming as well, lovingly rendered by Scott Andrews and Tim Zavadil on clarinets and answered by Andrea Kaplan on flute.

The concerts repeat today (Saturday) at 8 PM and Sunday at 3 PM, February 22 and 23. The Saturday concert will be broadcast on St. Louis Public Radio 90.7 and HD 1.

Next on the schedule: On Wednesday, February 26, at 7:30 PM David Robertson conducts members of the orchestra in a program of music by Steve Reich in a Pulitzer Series concert at the Pulitzer Center for the Arts, 3716 Washington. Then Juanjo Mena conducts the orchestra with piano soloist Benedetto Lupo in a program of music by Ginastera, Rachmaninoff, and Elgar on Friday and Saturday at 8 PM and Sunday at 3 PM, February 28 – March 2, at Powell Symphony Hall, 718 North Grand. For more information: stlsymphony.org.

Symphonic downsizing

Bernard Labadie

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When guest conductor Bernard Labadie takes the podium this weekend, he'll be leading a noticeably downsized St. Louis Symphony Orchestra. But never fear; nobody has been sacked. It's just that he's conducting a program of music written between 1763 and 1792, back when both orchestras and the halls in which they played were substantially smaller than they are now.

Although only three decades separate the earliest work on the program (a suite from Jean-Philippe Rameau's 1763 opera "Les Boréades") from the latest one (Haydn's 1792 "Sinfonia concertante in B-flat major," Hob. I:105), the difference in style is striking. Rameau had a very long and productive life (he died just short of what would have been his 81st birthday in September of 1764) and continued composing in the Baroque style long after it was seen as outdated and unfashionable. The developments in symphonic style heard in the Haydn and Mozart works on this weekend's program largely passed him by. Nevertheless, he remained popular and prosperous right to the end.

Kirstin Ahlstrom

Given that it was written the year before he died, it won't surprise you to learn that Rameau never saw "Les Boréades" performed. What is a little surprising is that nobody who was alive at the time ever saw it performed either. For reasons which are not entirely clear, the first fully staged performance didn't occur until July 1982, at the Aix-en-Provence Festival with early music champion John Eliot Gardiner conducting. The piece is technically a tragédie en musique, which means it's based on a mythological subject and includes a lot of dances. You'll hear eight of them this weekend, including a fanciful "Gavottes pour les heures" in which, as Paul Schiavo writes in his program notes, the composer has the "piccolos whirring over a rhythmically steady accompaniment to imitate the workings of a clock."

Philip Ross

The Haydn "Sinfonia concertante" is next. It dates from a time when the form of the solo concerto was not as well established as it would later become, so works for multiple solo instruments and orchestra were common. Haydn wrote his for the first of his two visits to London, a city that embraced him both artistically and financially (“I made four thousand guilders this evening,” wrote Haydn after the 1795 premiere of his 104th symphony).

It was apparently dashed off quickly, possibly in response to a bit of rivalry. "Londoners had become accustomed to the sinfonia concertante due to the energy of Johann Christian Bach," wrote Scott Fogelsong in the San Francisco Examiner in 2009, "whose many examples stand as some of the finest of the genre. Thus Haydn tossed his hat into the ring with his Sinfonia concertante in B-flat for violin, cello, oboe, and bassoon... His own student Pleyel had been making waves in the London concert scene during the same season, and quite possibly Haydn's work was a direct response to Pleyel's popular works. One gets a sense of Haydn grinning slightly and murmuring OK, hotshot, let the old man show you how it's done."

Andrew Gott

And show them he did. The piece was a hit. "A new concertante from HAYDN combined with all the excellencies of music," enthused the Morning Herald the next day; "it was profound, airy, affecting, and original, and the performance was in unison with the merit of the composition. SALOMON particularly exerted himself on this occasion, in doing justice to the music of his friend HAYDN." The soloists playing those "excellencies" this weekend are all members of the home team: Acting Co-Principal oboe Philip Ross, Associate Principal bassoon Andrew Gott, Associate Principal Second Violin Kirstin Ahlstrom, and Associate Principal cello Melissa Brooks. It's always good to see the local folks in the spotlight.

Melissa Brooks

The second half of the concert features symphonies by the two giants of the Classical period, Haydn and Mozart. We begin with Haydn's "Symphony No. 22 in E-flat major," nicknamed "The Philosopher" possibly because of what the late Harold Truscott described as "the quizzical, semi-ponderous opening Adagio." The name first appears on a 1790 manuscript copy of the score found in Modena, according to Wikipedia, although we don't know who is responsible for it. To me, that opening movement has always conjured up the image of a thoughtful academic carefully laying out a mathematical proof or explaining a complex philosophical issue, so the sobriquet seems right.

Opening a symphony with an Adagio instead of a conventional fast movement with a slow introduction, by the way, was regarded as quite a novel idea when the piece was composed in 1764. "Nobody up to that time had thought of starting a symphony with a noble slow movement," writes Mark Elder in The Guardian, "nor had anybody ever thought of the extraordinary sound that the symphony begins with: a chorale played by two horns and two cor anglais against an incessant pattern of notes in the strings. It all gives this movement a strange, unexpected beauty."

The final work on the program—Mozart's "Symphony No. 39 in E-flat major," K. 543—is the first of a set of three that the composer dashed off in the summer of 1788. Nobody is really certain of the source of what Arthur V. Berger (in a New York City Symphony program note) called the "sudden efflorescence of inspiration" that produced Mozart's last and, in the estimation of many writers, greatest symphonies, but the results speak (or rather sing) for themselves.

K. 543 gets less attention than the other two, much as a normal human being would be less noticed standing next to a pair of NFL linebackers, but that doesn't make it any less a great composition. "This symphony," writes musicologist Andrew Firmer, "is...a prime example of the composer 's genius that he is not only able to conjure up melodies, but weave them with apparent contradictions that seem to connect with impossible ease." Those contradictions include Mozart's assimilation of the contrapuntal techniques he got from the music of Bach and Handel. "It was this synthesis of 'learned' style with the clean clarity of classicism," writes Brian Robins at allmusic.com, "that caused so much trouble for Mozart's contemporaries, to whom his late style became increasingly 'difficult.'" Today, with over two centuries of hindsight, it's clear that this "difficult" music is both ingeniously complex and wonderfully clear.

Labadie with Les Violons du Roy

Finally, a few words about guest conductor Bernard Labadie. The founder of early music ensembles Les Violons du Roy and La Chapelle de Québec, Labadie is widely regarded as a leading interpreter of music of the 17th and 18th centuries. Reviewing a concert by the former group at London's Barbican Center, the Telegraph called him "[A] fine instinctive musician. He moulds the phrases, plucks out all-important details in the texture and radiates an infectious joy in the music.” So we'll be hearing and expert's take on our Rameau, Haydn and Mozart.

The essentials: Bernard Labadie conducts the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra in a suite from Rameau's "Les Boréades," Haydn's "Sinfonia concertante in B-flat major" and "Symphony No. 22 in E-flat major," and Mozart's "Symphony No. 39" in the same key. Performances are Friday at 10:30 AM (a Krispy Kreme coffee concert, with free doughnuts), Saturday at 8 PM, and Sunday at 3 PM, February 21-23, at Powell Hall in Grand Center. For more information: stlsymphony.org. 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.

How strange the change from major to minor

Scott Andrews

Who: The St. Louis Symphony Orchestra conducted by Bernard Labadie with clarinet soloist Scott Andrews
What: All-Mozart Program
Where: Powell Symphony Hall
When: April 26 and 27, 2013

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Mozart, as they used to say over at Variety, is clearly “boffo” with St. Louis Symphony audiences. The crowd at Friday morning’s concert was larger than usual and obviously appreciative of Bernard Labadie’s vibrant readings of Mozart’s 33rd and 40th symphonies, as well as with Principal Clarinet Scott Andrew’s elegant work in the Clarinet Concerto, K. 622.

The fans may be conservative, but they know what they like.

Bernard Labadie

And there was quite a lot to like about this concert. As founder of Les Violons du Roy and La Chapelle de Québec, Mr. Labadie has substantial credentials as an interpreter of music of the Baroque and Classical eras. Reviewing a Barbican Center concert with the former ensemble, for example, the Telegraph noted that Labadie “radiates an infectious joy in the music”—a quality much in evidence here. His Mozart also has, to my ears, the kind of vitality I associate with the “original instrument” movement, although Mr. Labadie is not usually associated with that approach.

His Symphony No. 33 in B-flat major (K. 319) was, therefore, a perfect mix of exuberance and precision—very appropriate for a work of (to quote Paul Schiavo’s program notes) “uniformly bright countenance.” Tempi were on the brisk side both here in and in the Symphony No. 40, but the music never felt rushed.

By way of contrast, Mr. Labadie and Mr. Andrews gave us a relaxed and elegant concerto—also very appropriate for a work noted more for its “grace, tenderness, and intimacy” (to quote Mr. Schiavo again) than its virtuoso display. Mr. Andrews is not a particularly showy performer, but was clearly very much caught up in the music, dipping his body for low notes and swaying back and forth in time to the melodies. His tone was beautiful and limpid and his execution flawless.

Basset clarinet

The K. 622 has an interesting history, by the way. The original manuscript, written for Mozart’s friend and fellow Mason Anton Stadler (apparently quite a virtuoso), has been lost. It was written for a special “basset clarinet” invented by Stadler that had an additional major third at the bottom of its range (low C vs. low E). Stadler’s basset clarinet never caught on, though, so when the piece was published after Mozart’s death, it had been modified to fit the range of a standard clarinet.

Subsequent research has enabled musicologists to produce a basset clarinet version of the score, but since so few musicians play this oddball instrument, the modified version (the one performed in these concerts) is the one usually played these days. If you’re curious as to what the restored version sounds like, a 1997 CD by the Orchestra of the Old Fairfield Academy with Eric Hoeprich on basset clarinet is still in print, and I expect there are others.

Getting back to Powell Hall, the Symphony No. 40 in G minor (K. 550) that concluded the concert was wonderfully urgent and dramatic, with especially marked contrasts between the first and second subjects in the opening movement. This is a symphony that has produced a wide variety of responses from critics and Mozart biographers. Some have emphasized its obvious dark and brooding moods while others have noted what Robert Schumann called its “Grecian lightness and grace.” Personally, I tend to come down on the “dark and brooding” side, so I found Mr. Labadie’s approach completely compelling and convincing.

The musicians sounded great as usual. When performed by an appropriately sized ensemble (36 pieces in this case), the Mozart symphonies are a real test of an orchestra’s capabilities. There aren’t that many players per part, so everyone has to be in top form; there’s no place to hide here. The polished quality of the sound Friday morning was, therefore, yet another testament to this band’s high performance standards.

Next on the calendar: David Robertson returns to the podium along with local favorite soprano Christine Brewer and baritone Lucas Meachem Friday through Sunday, May 3-5. The program consists of the overture to Suppé’s Morning, Noon and Night in Vienna, Schubert’s "Unfinished", and the local premiere of Zemlinsky’s 1924 Lyrische Symphonie (Lyric Symphony). For ticket information: stlsymphony.org.

TPTBT (The Place to Be Tonight): Friday, April 26

Scott Andrews

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Who: The St. Louis Symphony conducted by Bernard Labadie with clarinet soloist Scott Andrews
What: An all-Mozart program
Where: Powell Symphony Hall
When: Today at 10:30 AM and 8 PM and Saturday at 8 PM
Why: "Mozart’s sublime writing remains an audience favorite and this program devoted to his genius is no exception. Bernard Labadie leads the composer’s hypnotic Symphony No. 40, known for its unmistakable opening theme, and the Clarinet Concerto featuring Principal Clarinet Scott Andrews. Praised as “elegant” in the Boston Globe and “extraordinary” by the New York Times, Andrews’ stellar talent shines in the lyrical concerto, among the final works completed before Mozart’s death."  It's always nice to see a member of the orchestra in the solo slot and the dramatic and haunting Mozart 40 is always worth hearing.