Showing posts with label camille saint-saens. Show all posts
Showing posts with label camille saint-saens. Show all posts

Saturday, April 26, 2014

Youth's magic piano

Conrad Tao
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Who: The St. Louis Symphony conducted by Leonard Slatkin with piano soloist Conrad Tao
What: Music of Roberto Sierra, Saint-Saëns, and Copland
When: April 25–27, 2014
Where: Powell Symphony Hall

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

When pianist Conrad Tao appeared with the SLSO in February of 2013—as a last-minute replacement for an ailing Markus Groh—I described him as a tremendously talented young man at the beginning of what looked like a very promising career. This weekend Mr. Tao (who is still not 20 years old) validated that judgment with a Saint-Saëns "Piano Concerto No. 2" that was a model of power and delicacy.

The concerto is easily the French master's most popular essay in the form (he wrote five). It gets off to a big, dramatic start with a solo keyboard fantasia, of the sort Bach might have written, followed by an equally dramatic entrance on the part of the full orchestra. Mr. Tao's performance of the opening mini-cadenza was appropriately splashy, but not overpoweringly so. It set the tone for a performance that did full justice to the composer's keyboard pyrotechnics without ever descending into mere flash for flash's sake.

Mr. Tao's ability to project a more delicate sound was most obvious in the second movement—a fleet-footed scherzo with a piano part that sparkles like Champagne. A less sensitive player might (to carry on the metaphor) cause the bubbles to go flat, but Mr. Tao remained effervescent.

The manic tarantella finale that followed generated all the required thrills and resulted in a much-deserved standing ovation. That, in turn, resulted in an encore that gave Mr. Tao a chance to truly show off: the concluding Vivace—Moderato—Vivace from Prokofiev's "Piano Sonata No. 2 in D Minor," Op. 14 (1912). The movement is a wild, percussive ride that covers almost the entire eight octaves of the keyboard and even (with its repeated triplets) suggests something of the tarantella—which makes it a most appropriate choice following the concerto.

Leonard Slatkin
Under the capable baton of favorite son Leonard Slatkin, the orchestra provided nicely balanced accompaniment. The interplay between soloist and ensemble was simply ideal.

The featured work this weekend is Aaron Copland's "Symphony No. 3." A product of the final years of World War II (the composer began working on it in Mexico in 1944 and completed it just in time for its October 1946 premiere), the symphony perfectly captures the forward-looking optimism that characterized America Victorious. As Copland writes in his autobiography, the Third "was a wartime piece—or, more accurately, and end-of-war piece—intended to reflect the euphoric spirit of the country at the time."

Friday morning, Mr. Slatkin and the orchestra gave us a performance that did full justice to both the exuberant and contemplative aspects of this music. The finale, with its cheerfully bombastic expansion on the 1942 "Fanfare for the Common Man," was thoroughly rousing; the third movement Andantino quasi allegretto was sweetly nostalgic; and the opening Molto moderato had the gravitas it needs. The rapid passages of the Allegro molto second movement were executed with impressive precision, despite some fairly fast tempo choices by Mr. Slatkin.

A couple of split notes not withstanding, the expanded brass section covered itself with glory Friday morning. The super-sized percussion section (six musicians, not counting the piano and celesta) was particularly impressive as well. There was also lovely work by the winds, especially in the quieter moments just before the final statement of the "fanfare" theme in the final movement.

Roberto Sierra
The concert opened with a local premiere, Roberto Sierra's "Fandangos" from 2000. The work was commissioned by Mr. Slatkin and was inspired by a "Fandango" for harpsichord by Spanish composer Antonio Soler (1729–83). Quoted in Paul Schiavo's program notes, the composer describes the piece as “a fantasy, or a ‘super-fandango,' that takes as point of departure Soler's work and incorporates elements of Boccherini's fandango and my own Baroque musings.”

In practice, that translates as a lively, kaleidoscopic elaboration on Soler's original that ripples through every section of the ensemble—a kind of mini-"concerto for orchestra" that gave everyone a chance to show off. It was a great choice for an orchestra with the SLSO's depth of talent and was enormous fun to hear. Mr. Slatkin, as you might expect, knows the music well—he conducted without a score—so I think one would have to regard his performance as definitive.

The concert will be repeated Saturday at 8 PM and Sunday at 3 PM, April 26 and 27, at Powell Symphony Hall, 718 North Grand. The Saturday performance will be broadcast on St. Louis Public Radio, 90.7 FM, HD 1, and via live Internet stream. With a piece like the Copland Third, though, the live experience is highly recommended.

Next at Powell: Carlos Izcaray conducts orchestra and chorus in Orff's ever-popular "Carmina Burana" and Steve Reich's "The Four Sections" Thursday through Saturday at 8 PM and Sunday at 3 PM, May 1–4. For more information: stlsymphony.org.

Thursday, April 24, 2014

Top of the pops

Aaron Copland in 1962
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"There is no doubt about it—this is the greatest American symphony!" Thus (according to the 28 October 1946 issue of "Time") spake Boston Symphony Orchestra conductor Serge Koussevitsky after conducting the first performance of Aaron Copland's "Symphony No. 3." Was he right?

You can come to your own conclusions this weekend as St. Louis Symphony conductor emeritus Leonard Slatkin (still a favorite with local audiences) conducts the Copland symphony along with Saint-Saëns’ "Piano Concerto No. 2" and Roberto Sierra's "Fandangos."

Personally, I've always had a great deal of affection for Copland's Third. It perfectly captures the forward-looking optimism that characterized America in the years immediately after World War II. As Copland writes in his autobiography, the Third "was a wartime piece—or, more accurately, and end-of-war piece—intended to reflect the euphoric spirit of the country at the time."

The symphony unfolds in four movements. "It was composed," writes Copland, "in the form of an arch, in which the central portion, that is the second-movement scherzo, is the most animated, and the final movement is an extended coda, presenting a broadened version of the opening material…The second movement stays close to the normal symphonic procedure of a usual scherzo, while the third is the freest of all in formal structure, built up sectionally with its various sections intended to emerge one from the other in a continuous flow, somewhat in the matter of a closely knit series of variations."

That third movement is, for me, the emotional heart of this symphony. There's a kind of lyrical intensity to it that reminds me of the analogous movement from Shostakovich's "Symphony No. 5" from 1937, albeit without the existential despair. And that's not the only resemblance.

Like the Shostakovich Fifth, Copland's symphony reverses the usual order of the scherzo and slow movements. It also opens with a declamatory and dramatic statement and closes with a big brassy finale. Copland's—based on his 1942 hit "Fanfare for the Common Man"—is unambiguously uplifting. Shostakovich's is much more open to interpretation.

I don't know whether or not Copland had the Shostakovich in the back of his mind during the two years he spent writing the Third. As far as I know, he has never said that he did. Besides, there are major differences between the two works. Copland genuinely intended his symphony to be triumphant while Shostakovich very likely intended his to be a subtle attack on the kind of bombast the commissars wanted to hear. And, of course, Copland didn't write his symphony under the threat of arrest, interrogation, and possible death in a Gulag. Still, if you listen to them back to back, they feel like two sides of the coin—or maybe Yin and Yang.

Camille Saint-Saëns
Tucker Collection, New York Public Library
The other Big Work on this weekend's program is also a favorite, not only of mine, but also of concertgoers in general. Camille Saint-Saëns's "Piano Concerto No. 2 in G minor," Op. 22 is easily the French master's most popular concerto (he wrote five). It gets off to a big, dramatic start with a solo keyboard fantasia of the sort Bach might have written (had he been around in 1868 when Saint-Saëns composed the concerto for virtuoso Anton Rubenstein) followed by an equally dramatic entrance on the part of the full orchestra. The second movement is a fleet-footed scherzo with a piano part that sparkles like Champagne and the finale is flashy tarantella that provides a real workout for the soloist. Done well, the concerto is always a crowd pleaser and likely to induce standing ovations.

This week's soloist should have what it takes to get that ovation. His more recent SLSO appearance was as a last-minute replacement for an ailing Markus Groh last February. He delivered what I described as "a bang-up performance" of Prokofiev’s “Piano Concerto No. 3” and followed it up with a spectacular encore: Liszt's “Hungarian Rhapsody No. 6.” Named a Gilmore Young Artist in 2011 (a prestigious appointment), Mr. Tao was the only classical musician on Forbes’ “30 Under 30” list that year of people changing the world. And he's not even 21 yet.

The concerts open with a local premiere: Roberto Sierra's "Fandangos" from 2000. The work was commissioned by Mr. Slatkin for the National Symphony Orchestra and was inspired by a "Fandango" for harpsichord by Spanish composer Antonio Soler (1729-83). Quoted in Paul Schiavo's program notes, the composer describes the piece as “a fantasy, or a ‘super-fandango,’ that takes as point of departure Soler’s work and incorporates elements of Boccherini’s fandango and my own Baroque musings.” It's scored for a large orchestra (including castanets) and looks like it should be pretty colorful stuff.

The essentials: Leonard Slatkin conducts The St. Louis Symphony Orchestra and pianist Conrad Tao in "Fandangos" by Roberto Sierra, the "Piano Concerto No. 2 in G minor," op. 22 by Saint-Saëns, and the "Symphony No. 3" by Copland on Friday at 10:30 AM, Saturday at 8 PM and Sunday at 3 PM, April 25-27, at Powell Symphony Hall, 718 North Grand. For more information: stlsymphony.org. The Saturday performance will be broadcast on St. Louis Public Radio, 90.7 FM, HD 1, and via live Internet stream.

Sunday, October 20, 2013

We had a ball

Who: The St. Louis Symphony Orchestra conducted by David Robertson with cellist Yo-Yo Ma
What: Music of Suppé, Haydn, Hérold, Faure, and Saint-Saëns
Where: Powell Symphony Hall
When: October 19, 2013

Before the first note sounded at Saturday night’s Red Velvet Ball fundraiser concert, the evening was already a success, in that it had raised over $600,000 for the symphony.  In return for all that cash, the near-capacity crowd at Powell Hall got a solid evening of great music from the orchestra under David Robertson and renowned cellist Yo-Yo Ma.

The Red Velvet Ball is always a festive occasion, with the musicians decked out even more formally than usual (“don’t they look great?” asked Mr. Robertson as he took the podium).   There were a fair number of formal gowns and tuxes in the audience as well.  A spirit of jolly good humor pervaded the evening, with Mr. Ma often exchanging smiles with Mr. Robertson and the symphony musicians and Mr. Robertson doing a bit of clowning about on the podium.

That’s not to say that the performances were anything less than polished.  It’s just that everyone was clearly having a good time, and the feeling was contagious.

The two big events of the evening were cello concertos by Haydn and Saint-Saëns.  They represented a nice balance of styles and showed Mr. Ma's talents nicely.

The first was Haydn's Concerto No. 1 in C major, Hob. VIIb/1.  It's an early work, written somewhere around 1761-65 (when Haydn was in his 30s) and apparently intended for Haydn's friend Joseph Franz Weigl, who was the principal cellist of Prince Nicolaus's Esterházy Orchestra. Judging from the difficulty of the solo part, Weigl must have been quite the virtuoso.  He might also have played the ensemble cello part as well since the score has only one cello line, marked either "solo" or "tutti," depending on the cello’s role.

Mr. Ma played both the tutti and solo lines with fleetness and lightness of tone that perfectly matched the material.  Mr. Robertson’s tempi were a bit on the slow side for my taste but as this was “big band” Haydn, I could see the logic in that approach.  Certainly the audience loved it, applauding after each movement and standing at the end.

The second (and longer) solo work was another Cello Concerto No. 1.  This one, in A minor, is the Op. 33 of the prolific French romantic master Camille Saint-Saëns.  Like Haydn, Saint-Saëns was in his 30s when he wrote this in 1872.  Also like Haydn, he wrote it for a specific performer: the Belgian cellist, viola de gamba player, author, and instrument maker Auguste Tolbecque.  This, too, is a work that demands a great deal from the soloist—which makes it very popular with top-drawer soloists like Mr. Ma.

Mr. Ma and Mr. Robertson played the Saint-Saëns for maximum contrast and drama.  Mr. Ma’s sound was big and lush when the music led him there, yet wonderfully delicate in the little minuet-like melody of the central “Allegretto con moto” section.  Here, as in the Haydn, Mr. Ma interacted not just with the conductor but with members of the orchestra as well, often nodding and smiling to concertmaster David Halen.  This is a man who clearly loves what he does, and that’s always a pleasure to see on stage.

Each of Mr. Ma’s solo appearances was preceded by a popular overture.  Before the Haydn we got the overture to Franz von Suppé’s 1866 operetta Leichte Kavallerie (Light Cavalry) and before the Saint-Saëns the overture to Zampa, an somewhat absurd 1831 opéra comique by French composer Louis Joseph Ferdinand Hérold. 

Some fine playing by the brasses—including principal trumpet Karen Bliznik—highlighted the former, while principal clarinet Scott Andrews had a fine solo turn in the latter.  Mr. Robertson conducted both with genial flair and not a little bit of humor.  When the famous “galloping” theme began in Light Cavalry, for example, he turned to the audience with a grin as if to say, “we all know this one, don’t we?”  Yes, we do, and it was great fun.

There was one solemn moment in the evening, though.  As I noted in my review of Friday’s concert, symphony contrabassoonist Andrew Thompson died suddenly this past Tuesday of a heart attack at the shockingly young age of 27.  Maestro David Robertson paid homage to him Friday with a moving eulogy and a moment of silence.  Saturday night, the tribute was musical: Gabriel Fauré’s 1883 Élégie for cello and orchestra, played by Mr. Ma just before the Saint-Saëns concerto.  It was a last-minute addition to the program, but nothing about the performance sounded slapdash, and it was a moving tribute.

Although this was the fifth annual Red Velvet Ball, it was the first one I’d attended.  It was immensely gratifying to see such a large turnout, especially given the higher than usual ticket prices  And there is something to be said for “putting on the Ritz” now and then.  Yes, I know: we don’t want to make attending the symphony seem too formal and off-putting.  But it’s still fun to dress up in ways that match all that cream, red and gold décor at Powell.  Besides, I don’t get that many opportunities to wear my tux these days.

This coming Wednesday (October 23) there’s a Pulitzer Concert with cellist Danny Lee and violinist Helen Kim performing Pierre Boulez’s Anthèmes for Solo Violin and Kodály‘s Sonata for Solo Cello at the Pulitzer Center just west of Powell Hall.  Friday and Saturday it’s back to Powell Hall for a concert featuring Rimski-Korsakov’s Scheherazade along with the Shostakovich Piano Concerto No. 1 (the one with the prominent trumpet part in the final movement) and a suite of dances from Thomas Adès’s 1995 chamber opera Powder Her Face.  Peter Oundjian conducts with pianist Stewart Goodyear and the symphony’s Karin Bliznik on trumpet.  For ticket information: stlsymphony.org.