Symphony Review: Yo Yo Ma and Stéphane Denève celebrate Elgar and Debussy

While it might seem superfluous to review the concert that was part of last Friday’s (May 3) annual St. Louis Symphony Orchestra fund-raising gala, it was such a great experience that a few words are perhaps in order.

These full-evening galas typically feature an appearance by a superstar performer and this one was no exception. World-renowned cellist and activist Yo-Yo Ma was the soloist for the Cello Concerto in E minor, Op. 85, by Edward Elgar (1857–1934). First performed in 1919, it’s a spare and, with the exception of the third movement, unsentimental work. There’s little of the kind of expansive late Romantic sound that audiences had come to expect from the composer of the “Enigma Variations” or the concert overtures “Cockaigne” and “In the South.” Poorly performed by an under-rehearsed London Symphony, the concerto got a cool reception and was not repeated in London for over a year.

Yo Yo Ma

At first blush, it seemed an odd choice for a basically celebratory evening, but Ma’s performance was so breathtakingly stellar that the wisdom of that decision quickly became clear. Ma’s sound was uniformly full and robust throughout its range, with even the faintest harmonics emerging with impressive clarity. Maestro Stéphane Denève’s introduction of Ma referred to “the diamond of his sound,” which sounds like hyperbole but was, in fact, completely accurate.

Coupled with his visible emotional commitment to the music and his close communication with both Denève and the orchestra, that sound resulted in a reading of hypnotic intensity. I have never been a great admirer of the Elgar concerto in the past, but Yo-Yo Ma and Stéphane Denève made me a believer last Friday night.

Better yet, the Elgar was preceded by a splendid performance of the popular “La Mer,” written in 1904 by Claude Debussy (1862–1918).  I missed Denève’s last performance of this in 2019, so it was an immense pleasure to see and hear it this time around. His ability to bring out the smallest orchestral details without ever losing sight of the dramatic sweep of Debussy’s brilliant musical canvas reminded me once again that when he conducts, you will hear everything. That includes elements of the music that you might never have noticed before, even if it’s a piece like “La Mer” that has become an audience favorite over the last century.

As Yo-Yo Ma pointed out while introducing his encore Friday night, one of the great things about the SLSO is that “everybody is listening…everybody cares.”

Ma went on to announce that the encore was the 1939 arrangement of the Catalan folk song “El Cant dels Ocells” (“The Song of the Birds”)—an arrangement that Casals made when he left fascist Spain, announcing that he would not play there again until Franco and his autocratic regime were gone and democracy was restored. Casals began each of his concerts with that song from then on.

It was, as Ma reminded us, Casals’ plea for peace and democracy.  The relevance to contemporary events is, I think, readily apparent.  As Ma wrote in 2018, “music, like all of culture, helps us to understand our environment, each other, and ourselves. Culture helps us to imagine a better future. Culture helps turn 'them' into 'us.' And these things have never been more important.”

The current SLSO season is officially over but post-season events continue through June, beginning Saturday, May 11 at 7:00 pm, as George Daugherty conducts the orchestra for “Bugs Bunny at the Symphony.”

I last saw this program back in 2011 and found it to be great fun. It has since been updated to include five new ’toons. The important thing is that it still includes “What’s Opera, Doc?,” “The Rabbit of Seville,” “Corny Concerto,” “Baton Bunny,” and “Long-Haired Hare.” That, all by itself, is enough to recommend it.

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

Symphony Preview: Insecurity complex

This weekend (Friday and Saturday, October 4 and 5) the noted Dutch conductor Edo de Waart leads the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra (SLSO) in Rachmaninoff's Piano Concerto No. 3 and Elgar's Symphony No. 1. They're big works by composers who were, at various points in their lives, beset by crippling writer's block.

Rachmaninoff in 1900
en.wikipedia.org

Probably the most famous case is that of Rachmaninoff. When his Symphony No. 1 had its St. Petersburg premiere in 1897, the twenty something composer seemed destined for greatness. His Piano Concerto No. 1, his opera "Aleko," and numerous other works had met with great success. The performance, alas, was a disaster that plunged the composer into a depression so deep that it took months of hypnotherapy to release his composer's block.

I went into the gory details in an earlier symphony preview article so I won't repeat them here, but suffice it to say that by the time Rachmaninoff got around to writing his "Piano Concerto No. 3 in D minor," Op. 30, in 1909, he had his mojo fully working. The work was a hit, but so difficult to perform that for many years the composer himself was its only advocate.

It wasn't until the great Vladimir Horowitz recorded it in 1930 and began to actively promote it that it started to rise in popularity. These days it's so much a part of the standard repertoire that two of the finalists in the 2013 Van Cliburn International Piano Competition,Fei-Fei Dong and Sean Chen, picked it for their final-round concerts.

This week's soloist, Joyce Yang (herself a silver medalist in the 2005 Cliburn Competition), is no stranger to the concerto, having garnered rave reviews for previous performances. "She played with a polished, pearly evenness that was remarkable for its ease up and down the keyboard," wrote Charles Pasles in the Los Angeles Times. That bodes well.

Interesting local note: Horowitz gave the Rach 3 its St. Louis premiere on January 27, 1928. The pianist had arrived in the USA just two weeks previously and had already created a sensation with the New York Philharmonic under Sir Thomas Beecham. Post-Dispatch music critic Thomas B. Sherman loved Horowitz ("a powerful tone and a sparkling and expertly controlled technique") but hated the concerto, calling it "as dull a thing as the noted Muscovite expatriate has ever done". History has rather overruled him that one.

Like Rachmaninoff, Edward Elgar had his share of insecurities, many of them stemming from his humble origins in rural Worcester from the fact that, unlike Rachmaninoff, he was largely self-taught as a composer, without the usual conservatory training. As Calvin Dotsey writes in notes for the Houston Symphony, the composer "struggled in obscurity for many years before finding fame in 1899 with his 'Enigma Variations,' a musical tribute to his wife and the close friends that had believed in him. Even after he had become a national figure and received a knighthood, money continued to be scarce for years to come, and Elgar suffered from periods of self-doubt and composer's block."

Edward Elgar, circa 1900
en.wikipedia.org

Too, many 19th century composers felt intimidated by the long shadow cast by Beethoven, so they didn't even attempt to write symphonies until they felt very sure of their craft. Brahms, for one, didn't feel confident enough to write a symphony until he was 43, and Elgar didn't finish his until he was 51.

Elgar's situation was further complicated, as Mr. Dotsey points out, because of the way Britain's musical landscape at the time was largely under foreign occupation:

In addition to the "giants" behind him, Elgar faced pressure as the first British composer of orchestral music to ever win widespread international acclaim. Despite Britain's poets, novelists, painters, scientists, playwrights and sprawling empire, for nearly two centuries British musical life had been dominated by foreigners: Handel and J. C. Bach took up residence in London, and Haydn, Mendelssohn and Dvorák had all made significant visits (a young Elgar actually played violin in an orchestra conducted by Dvorák at a choral festival in 1884). The reception of Elgar's First Symphony reflected not merely on himself, but on his nation, which had long been mocked by Germans as "das Land ohne Musik" ("the land without music").

Happily, the December 3, 1908, premiere of Elgar's first symphony was a massive hit. As recounted in Meirion Hughes's "The English Musical Renaissance and the Press 1850-1914: Watchmen of Music," The Daily Telegraph called it "a masterwork to our national musical literature." The Morning Post dubbed it "a work of the future [that] will stand as a legacy for coming generations."

Better yet, it was a hit with the public. "The symphony was an immediate success," notes the elgar.com web site, "with Elgar being recalled to the platform several times both during and after the symphony's first performance and the first London performance four days later. The symphony received around 100 performances during its first year and remains a standard of the classical repertoire, still performed regularly today." That said, the work isn't heard all that often here in the USA, so this weekend is a rare chance to experience it.

Mr. Dotsey has an excellent description of what you can expect to hear in Elgar's Symphony No. 1 in the program notes I cited earlier, as does Paul Horsley in program notes for the Kennedy Center. So I'll just add that, like most of Elgar's music, the symphony strongly reflects the inner life of the man who composed it. As David Cox writes in his chapter on Elgar in "The Symphony" (Penguin Books, 1967, edited by Robert Simpson):

Elgar's personality presented many contrasts, which are reflected in his music. Exuberance and joyous acceptance were offset by nightmarish self-doubt. Crude patriotic feelings contrast with the sensitive, poetic, near-mystic side of him... Now emotional, generous, warm-hearted; now withdrawn, irritable, discontented. At times aggressive and abrupt, hiding a shy, extremely sensitive nature.

Personally, I can hear many of those facets of his persona in this piece. There's quiet British confidence in the opening theme of the first movement, but it quickly gives way to an agitated sense of drama. The second movement scherzo is bustling and a bit anxious, and its middle section is a positively bellicose march. The Adagio third movement is surely "generous" and "warm-hearted," conjuring up images of a quiet English country fireside, and the dramatic final movement concludes with a powerful, confident restatement of the opening theme of the first movement that Elgar said expressed his "massive hope for the future."

Thank God he never lived to see Boris Johnson and Brexit.

The essentials: Edo de Waart conducts The St. Louis Symphony Orchestra along with pianist Joyce Yang in Rachmaninoff's Piano Concerto No. 3 and Elgar's Symphony No. 1 on Friday at 10:30 am and Saturday at 8 pm, October 4 and 5. Performances take place at Powell Symphony Hall in Grand Center.

Review: Ringing in the New

Pianist Behzod Abduraimov
Photo by Nissor Abdourazakov

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A gratifyingly large crowd turned out for an equally gratifying opening night of the 2018/2019 St. Louis Symphony Orchestra season (Saturday, September 22), as Resident Conductor Gemma New led the orchestra in a concert of favorites by Elgar, Grieg, and Sibelius, along with the local premiere of Aaron Jay Kernis's glorious "Musica celestis" for string orchestra (which the composer was here to witness; he got a nice curtain call afterwards).

The concert opened with a patriotic punch: an arrangement of "The Star-Spangled Banner" by John Philip Sousa and Walter Damrosch (long-time conductor of the New York City Symphony Orchestra), during which many of us sang along, and a powerful performance of Sibelius's "Finlandia." Indeed, the nuance and variety of Ms. New's approach to the latter, a work which could have been simply dashed off with what George M. Cohan called "plenty of biff and bang," set the tone for the entire evening. Both the Grieg Piano Concerto and the Elgar "Enigma Variations" that followed benefited from an approach that found a wide range of colors and emotions in these concert standards.

The talented young (born in 1990) pianist Behzod Abduraimov was the soloist for the Grieg Concerto. He delivered a striking and personal performance with an ideal mix of technical flash and sensitivity. His take on the famous first movement cadenza was especially gripping, perfectly mixing passion and poetry. On the podium, Ms. New made it possible to hear this chestnut with fresh ears, with a brisk and authoritative treatment of the famous opening theme that contrasted sharply with a luxuriant and lyrical second theme.

Gemma New

There was a romantic richness to the Adagio second movement, as well, with a robust string sound and excellent work by Thomas Jöstlein's horn section. The energetic outer sections of the finale stood in pleasing contrast to the lyrical central section, with expressive playing from flautists Mark Sparks and Ann Choomack.

The thunderous applause didn't let up until Mr. Abduraimov gave us an encore, and an impressive one it was: the third of Franz Liszt's six "Grandes études de Paganini" nicknamed "La Campanella" for the rapid bell-like figure that runs through it. It's fiercely difficult, with wide leaps for the right hand (sometimes over two octaves), but Mr. Abduraimov not only negotiated it with ease but performed the piece with feeling as well.

The second half of the concert opened with Mr. Kernis's "Musica celestis," a work of transcendent beauty. Originally the slow movement of the composer's 1990 String Quartet No. 1, the movement soon gained an independent life of its own. The title translates as "heavenly music" and to my ears it fully lives up to that title, building from a quiet opening to an ecstatic peak before fading out in the highest reaches of the strings, as though ascending to heaven.

Aaron Jay Kernis

Mr. Kernis achieves this with a striking economy of means. The work is, as the composer himself has noted, essentially a passacaglia, in which a simple descending figure first heard in the opening bars becomes the basis for a series of variations, finally leading to the ethereal coda. Mr. Kernis acknowledges the work of 12th century composer, author and mystic Hildegard von Bingen as an influence here, and I have to agree that it did put me in mind both of her vocal music and also of another more recent adaptation of it, Christopher Theofanidis's "Rainbow Body," which was performed by the SLSO to great effect a decade ago. And that, as they say, is a good thing.

"Musica celestis," as befits its origins, is scored for string orchestra, and the SLSO strings acquitted themselves brilliantly here. The quiet final moments for the work were especially powerful and the overall sound of the section was full-bodied and rich. You could also hear the string quartet origins in the solo passages played so beautifully by Concertmaster David Halen, Associate Concertmaster Heidi Harris, Principal Viola Beth Guterman Chu, and Principal Cello Daniel Lee.

The concert concluded with Elgar's musical family album, the "Enigma Variations." It's a series of fourteen variations on the "enigma" theme first stated at the very beginning. The composer said it was an "enigma" because it actually refers to "another and larger theme" which is "not played." Elgar never revealed what that theme might be and speculation has been lively but I'm inclined to go along with the school of thought that the "theme" wasn't musical at all but rather the common thread of friendship and good humor that pervades the music.

Certainly Ms. New's interpretation was brimming with warmth and, when appropriate, good humor, as well as passion and sensitivity. The opening "enigma" theme was unusually lush, the "Dorabella" variation (number 10) was the epitome of grace, and the comic eleventh variation, which depicts a bulldog tumbling into the river Wye, paddling upstream, and then emerging with a triumphant bark, was just as much fun as it should have been. The contemplative and lyrical "Nimrod" variation (number 9), which is often heard alone, had a great, reverential sweep and the finale--the composer's self-portrait--bristled with the confidence that one hears so clearly in Elgar's more popular works. It was a well balanced and sometimes surprising performance that brought the evening to a most satisfying close.

Next at Powell Hall: Hannu Lintu conducts The St. Louis Symphony Orchestra and violinist Leila Josefowicz Friday and Saturday at 8 pm, September 28 and 29. The program consists of "Flounce" by contemporary Finnish composer Lotta Wennäkoski, the Violin Concerto by composer/conductor Esa-Pekka Salonen, and Shostakovich's Symphony No. 11. The concerts take place at Powell Hall in Grand Center.

Symphony Preview: Big Piano, Part Zwei, with Emanuel Ax

April has been Big Piano Concerto Month at the St. Louis Symphony. Last week we had Rachmaninoff's daunting "Piano Concerto No. 3" . This week it's the equally intimidating "Piano Concerto No. 2 in B-flat major," Op. 83, written in 1881 by Brahms.

Johannes Brahms
en.wikipedia.org

The reasons why the two concerti are difficult are somewhat different, though. With the Rachmaninoff, it's mostly a matter of sheer technique. The composer was a virtuoso of the first water who wrote the piece for his use during an American tour, and even though it's now largely part of the standard repertoire, it's still not the sort of thing a performer takes on lightly.

With the Brahms it's partly a matter of sheer endurance. With four movements (as opposed to the usual three) and a running time of around fifty minutes the piece was, at the time, the longest piano concerto ever written. Now that honor probably goes to Ferrucio Busoni's 1904 Piano Concerto (five movements, seventy minutes), which includes a part for male chorus. But it's still the pianistic equivalent of running a marathon and not everybody has the endurance.

The real challenge, though, is artistic. As French pianist Phillippe Bianconi observed in a 2013 interview, the Brahms Second is "not really a concerto – it is really a symphony with principal piano...everything about it — the structure, the texture, the way the piano is integrated into the orchestral fabric, it's very symphonic. And that is what I love about it: I have the feeling I'm playing in a Brahms symphony!... The sheer beauty of this music is simply overwhelming. And I don't know many concertos that have such a great range of moods and emotions...The concerto is like a fabulous journey." At the work's November 1881 premiere in Stuttgart, in fact, the prominent critic (and Brahms partisan) Eduard Hanslick labeled it "a symphony with piano obbligato."

That means the soloist has to have not only technique and endurance but also a grasp of symphonic form—which is not guaranteed, even among some of the world's most prominent players. "The fact that its supreme complexity requires a surpassing executant," wrote Brockway and Weinstock in the 1967 edition of their provocative "Men of Music," "has not helped the B flat, for it is all too often attempted by pianists who find it quite beyond their competence. Even the greatest of ensemble players, Artur Schnabel, though none of it is beyond him, cannot give interest to the unwieldy work for its entire length."

The composer realized that he had written something monumental, in fact, and was not sure how successful it might be. In a letter to Elizabeth von Herzogenberg from Pressbaum on July 7, 1881, Brahms, with tongue firmly in bearded cheek, announced that "I have written a tiny, tiny pianoforte concerto with a tiny wisp of a scherzo. It is in B flat, and I have reason to fear that I have worked this udder, which has yielded good milk before, too often and too vigorously."

He need not have worried. "He was surely vindicated, if unsurprised," writes René Spencer Saller in the SLSO program notes, "when his Second Piano Concerto elicited rapturous applause everywhere except in Leipzig, that die-hard Wagner town." Its popularity continues to this day, when it's seen as one of the core Romantic piano concerti. Indeed, pianist Stephen Hough (who has both Brahms concerti in his repertoire) has said that the Brahms Second is one of his favorites. "For all the grandeur and excitement of the first concerto's youthful flare," he wrote in The Guardian's music blog last January, "the second's older vintage seemed wiser, more fascinatingly complex as I revisited and re-recorded both pieces last year. Its musical arguments seemed more nuanced, more open to exploration, more a search for common ground where, as in life, the sun can shine brightest ... and warmest."

At the keyboard this weekend is Emanuel Ax, a pianist with a long and distinguished career in both the concert and chamber music worlds and an impressively large catalog of recordings (he has been a Sony classical artist since 1987).  He knows the Brahms Second intimately and has performed it four times with the SLSO, including twice with David Robertson. This weekend will mark his 40th anniversary of his first appearance with the orchestra.

Edward Elgar, circa 1900
en.wikipedia.org

The concerts will open with a work of more modest proportions: Edward Elgar's 1905 "Introduction and Allegro," op. 47, scored for string orchestra with a solo string quartet, much in the manner of the Baroque concerto grosso. It was was written on commission to show off the strings of the newly-established London Symphony Orchestra and contains some wonderful stuff, especially for the solo quartet. "It's really beautiful, and kind of strange," says viola soloist Morris Jacob in an interview in the program. "It's Elgar at his best. He writes so well for strings, with beautiful, intimate moments, some of which are just majestic."

Elgar prefaced the score with the following lines from Act IV, Scene 1 of Shakespeare's oddball tragicomedy "Cymbeline" describing the decidedly mixed emotions displayed by one of the key characters:

Nobly he yokes
A smiling with a sigh, as if the sigh
Was that it was, for not being such a smile; The smile mocking the sigh, that it would fly From so divine a temple, to commix
With winds that sailors rail at.

"Shakespeare reveled in paradox," writes Ms. Saller, "the conjoining of apparent antitheses. Elgar did too, but in a different idiom." The Introduction begins wistfully in G minor but soon waxes lyrical with a tune that Elgar said was inspired by a song he heard sung by a distant voice during a vacation in Wales. The Allegro concludes with an energetic fugue. "The work," concludes Ms. Saller, "is at once Romantic and Baroque, ecstatic and exact. Like the Bard of Avon, Elgar loved the mongrels best."

Between the Elgar and the Brahms is the St. Louis premiere of "Frenesia" ("Frenzy") by contemporary German composer Detlev Glanert. Composed on commission to celebrate the 150th birthday of Richard Strauss (of "Also Sprach Zarathustra" fame), the piece was inspired by Strauss' tone poem "Ein Heldenleben" ("A Hero's Life").

Detlev Glanert
boosey.com

"Ein Heldenleben," for the benefit of those of you who came in late, is a supreme example of musical egotism. Despite the composer's disclaimer that the work was only party autobiographical and that it was intended to be "a more general and free ideal of great and manly heroism," there's not much doubt that Strauss' hero was Strauss. The work is chock full of quotes from Strauss' music and its portrayal of music critics by a gaggle of chattering woodwinds provoked the expected outrage from the composer's detractors.

That sort of thing would be easy to parody, but Mr. Glanert isn't interested in satire. "Although Glanert admires Strauss's last great tone poem too much to mock it," reports Ms. Saller, "he recognizes that it was a product of its time. Frenesia is the ‘anti-Heldenleben,' he explains, "because the piece is against the traditional Romantic view of grand heroism, which I think is no longer possible after historic events leading to 1945.'"

"Frenesia" was given its world premiere by Xian Zhang and the Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra last January—a performance that was recently made available on YouTube. It's a piece marked by strong contrasts in which loud, aggressive orchestral outbursts that sound like science fiction film music abruptly give way to passages of surprising delicacy. About two-thirds of the way through, the music begins a slow build to a massive final climax before slowly dying away, like "Neptune" from Holst's "The Planets," into silence. Overall, I'm left the impression that Mr. Glanert sees "grand heroism" as being mostly sound and fury, signifying nothing.

"Frenesia" will, in any case, make serious demands on the members of the orchestra. It will be interesting to see what they make of it.

Mr. Glanert is no stranger to the "old wine in new bottles" thing, by the way. Last October he uncorked a re-distillation of some vintage Brahms at Powell Hell in his "Vier Präludien und ernste Gesänge" ("Four Preludes and Serious Songs"), an arrangement of Brahms's op. 121 "Four Serious Songs" for baritone and orchestra. You can see my colleague Gary Liam Scott's review of that concert (which I missed because I was on stage elsewhere) at the KDHX web site.

The essentials: David Robertson conducts the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra with pianist Emanuel Ax on Saturday at 8 p.m. and Sunday at 3 p.m., April 25 and 26. The concerts take place at Powell Symphony Hall, 718 North Grand in Grand Center. For more information: stlsymphony.org.

Variations on an international theme

Juanjo Mena

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Who: The St. Louis Symphony conducted by Juanjo Mena with pianist Benedetto Lupo
What: Music of Ginastera, Rachmaninoff, and Elgar
When: Friday through Sunday, February 28 – March 2, 2014
Where: Powell Symphony Hall

[Want to know more about the music?  Check out the symphony program notes and my symphony preview blog post.]

"Oh, the weather outside is frightful, but the fire is so delightful."  So runs Sammy Cahn's lyric for the 1945 holiday favorite "Let it Snow! Let it Snow!  Let it Snow!" Substitute "music" for "fire" and you have a good summary of this weekend's symphony concerts. 

Making his SLSO debut, Juanjo Mena is on the podium for a virtuoso reading of Alberto Ginastera's "Variaciones concertantes" that showcased many of our fine principal players (including Erik Harris on bass, which is not an instrument that gets a lot of solos normally), a blazing Rachmaninoff "Paganini Variations" with Benedetto Lupo tearing up the keyboard, and lushly romantic performance of Elgar's "Enigma Variations."

As you might gather from the preceding paragraph, the unifying concept this weekend is the durability and variety of the "theme and variations" format.  The form has been a favorite of composers for centuries, from the Renaissance right up to the present day. The three examples on this weekend's program are all by composers who wrote in the 20th century and cover a span of over fifty years, from 1898 to 1953.

The most recent work is the one that opens the concerts, the "Variaciones concertantes," op. 23 by the Argentine composer Alberto Ginastera.  Originally composed for chamber ensemble, it's being performed here with an expanded string section (fifty players) that turns it into a work for full orchestra. It takes the conventional theme and variations form and combines it with a concept that emerged mainly in the 20th century, the "concerto for orchestra"—a work in which each section of the ensemble gets an opportunity to take the spotlight. 

That gave a dozen of the orchestra's principal players a chance to demonstrate, as all the symphony's musicians have so often in the past, that this is an ensemble of virtuosi.  Bear with me as I try to give all of them the credit they deserve. 

The main theme was first played softly and with great feeling by Principal Harp Allegra Lilly and Principal Cello Daniel Lee.  An interludio for the strings led to the giocosa ("playful") variation for flute—played with stunning virtuosity by Associate Principal Andrea Kaplan—followed by an equally impressive performance of the variation in modo di Scherzo by Principal Clarinet Scott Andrews.  Next was the drammatica variation for viola, delivered with wonderful intensity by Principal Beth Guterman Chu; the canonica variation, hauntingly rendered by Acting Co-Principal Oboe Barbara Orland and Principal Bassoon Andrew Cuneo; and the brief but striking ritmica variation (actually more of a fanfare) for trumpet and trombone (Principal Trumpet Karin Bliznik, Associate Principal Trumpet Tom Drake, and Principal Trombone Tim Meyers).  That led to what is probably the most difficult variation of the lot, the Moto perpetuo variation for violin, dashed off with deceptive ease by Concertmaster David Halen.

A lovely pastorale variation by Principal Horn Roger Kaza was folllowed by a chorale interlude from the wind section, which was followed in turn by a restatement of the main theme by harp and string bass (a wonderfully delicate performance from Principal Erik Harris).  It all wrapped up with a lively finale in modo di Rondo based on the malambo, a dance form that originated with Argentine gauchos and which crops up in other works by Ginastera—most notably as the finale of his 1941 ballet Estancia.

Mr. Mena conducted all this with an animated, loose-limbed, and rather sinuous grace, almost dancing his way through the final variation.  Here, as in the program as a whole, his tempo and dynamics choices showed a flair for the dramatic that was well suited to the material.

Benedetto Lupo

Next was one of the great virtuoso showpieces of the twentieth century, Rachmaninoff’s flashy "Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini" from 1934.  The Russian expatriate was one of the previous century’s great virtuoso pianists and the "Rhapsody" served him well as he toured America and Europe.  The piece is a sort of mini-concerto, consisting of 24 variations on (appropriately) the twenty-fourth and last of Niccolò Paganini's "Caprices" for solo violin—a tune that has proved irresistible for composers from Liszt to Andrew Lloyd Webber.

The soloist for the Rachmaninoff was Benedetto Lupo, making his second appearance with the symphony.  When he was competing in the final round of the 1989 Van Cliburn Competition (in which he took the bronze medal), Lupo was described by critic Joseph Horowitz as a performer whose "musicianship, taste, and tenderness make him impossible not to like."  I'd add that he also has a powerful technique that served him well Friday night in Mr. Mena's dynamic and sometimes hair raisingly brisk approach to this piece.  The introduction and final six variations—difficult enough at any tempo—were especially speedy, which made Mr. Lupo's performance all the more impressive.

That's not to say he lacked delicacy and lyricism when it was called for.  The famous 18th variation (often presented alone on "greatest hits" discs and classical radio stations) was as warm and romantic as one would wish.  This was, in short, a totally engrossing performance, delivered with minimum of flash and maximum of musicianship.

The evening concluded with a work that could probably be classed as one of Edward Elgar’s greatest hits, the “Enigma Variations” from 1989-99.  Effectively a musical family album, the fourteen variations are vivid and varied little sound portraits of Elgar, his wife, and his friends.  They're filled with humorous touches (like the portrait of a swimming bulldog in variation 11) and fascinating instrumental details.  My favorite example of the latter is variation 13, dedicated to an unnamed lady friend on a sea voyage, in which the solo clarinet (Associate Principal Diana Haskell) playes a phrase from Mendelssohn's "Calm Sea and Prosperous Voyage" over an eerie pianissimo roll played on the tympani with wooden side drum sticks (nicely done by Shannon Wood).  Elgar meant the sound to suggest "the distant throb of engines of a liner."

Here, again, Mr. Mena made the most of this score's many moods.  Tempo contrasts were marked—the first variation felt a bit slower than the score's Andante, for example—but not exaggerated, and orchestral details were nicely highlighted. His approach to the famous "Nimrod" variation (often heard as a stand-alone work, like the Rachmaninoff 18th) was particularly passionate—very appropriate for a musical portrait of August Jaegar, a champion of Elgar's music and a close, beloved friend.  The orchestra played with its customary virtuosity.  The performance was, overall, a thing of beauty.

Next week, Rafael Frühbeck de Burgos is on the podium to conduct the orchestra and chorus in Verdi's "Requiem" with soloists Angel Blue (soprano), Julia Gertseva (mezzo-soprano), Aquiles Machado (tenor), and Riccardo Zanellato (bass).  The concerts are Friday and Saturday, January 24 and 25, at 8 PM. For more information: stlsymphony.org.

Varied variations

Alberto Ginastera

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This weekend at the symphony, BBC Chief Conductor Juanjo Mena is on the podium for a series of variations on the theme of the theme and variations. Which is not as confusing as it looks. All three of the works on the program are examples of the "theme and variations" form, in which a single melodic thread is used to spin a complex tapestry of music.

The form has been a favorite of composers for centuries, from the Renaissance right up to the present day. "Beethoven was especially fond of it," writes Paul Schiavo in his program notes, "and cultivated it brilliantly. But Handel, Bach, Mozart, Schubert, Brahms, Copland, Schoenberg, and many other composers used it profitably." The three examples on this weekend's program are all by composers who wrote in the 20th century and cover a span of over fifty years, from 1898 to 1953.

The most recent work is the one that opens the concerts, the "Variaciones concertantes," op. 23 by the Argentine composer Alberto Ginastera. It takes the conventional theme and variations form and combines it with a concept that emerged mainly in the 20th century, the "concerto for orchestra"—a work in which each section of the ensemble gets an opportunity to take the spotlight. Bartok's "Concerto for Orchestra" (which the symphony did just last month, under Andrés Orozco-Estrada) is probably the most famous example. Benjamin Britten's "Young Person's Guide to the Orchestra" is another.

Rachmaninoff in
California, 1919

Ginastera adds a bit of whimsy by giving each variation a descriptive title: " Variazione giocosa per Flauto" ("Playful variation for flute"), "Variazione drammatica per Viola" ("Dramatic variation for viola"), "Variazione in modo di Moto perpetua per Violino" ("Variation in perpetual motion style for violin"), and so on. "These variations have a subjective Argentine character," writes the composer in his notes for the Boosey and Hawkes edition of the score. "Instead of using folkloristic material, I try to achieve an Argentine atmosphere through the employment of my own thematic and rhythmic elements...All the instruments of the orchestra are treated soloistically. Some variations belong to the decorative, ornamental or elaborative type, others are written in the contemporary manner of metamorphosis, which consists of taking elements of the main theme and evolving from it new material." Should be a good workout for our "orchestra of virtuosos."

Next is one of the great virtuoso showpieces of the twentieth century, Rachmaninoff's flashy "Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini" from 1934. The Russian expatriate was one of the previous century's great virtuoso pianists and the "Rhapsody" served him well as he toured America and Europe. He played solo role in the premiere performance, of course—in Baltimore, Maryland, with the Philadelphia Orchestra conducted by another giant of 20th-century music, Leopold Stokowski.

The piece is a sort of mini-concerto, consisting of 24 variations on (appropriately) the twenty-fourth and last of Niccolò Paganini's "Caprices" for solo violin – a tune that has proved irresistible for composers from Liszt to Andrew Lloyd Webber. Listen for the quote of the Latin plainchant "Dies Irae" (a theme that crops up often on Rachmaninoff's music) about a third of the way through and note the extreme technical difficulty of the last variation. Even Rachmaninoff was said to have found it scary.

Benedetto Lupo

That brings us to the soloist, who appears to be well equipped to perform that scary music. Although Italian pianist Benedetto Lupo's career got a major shot in the arm when he took the bronze (now the crystal) medal at the 1989 Van Cliburn International Piano Competition (where technical expertise is more or less a given), he was already a fairly seasoned pianist at the time, with nearly twenty concertos in his repertoire. By now he has played with prominent orchestras worldwide and has been a frequent recitalist as well. His recordings include the complete works for piano and orchestra by Robert Schumann as well as the "Concerto Soirée" by his mentor, the film composer Nino Rota. "He currently teaches at the Nino Rota Conservatory in Monopoli, Italy," according to the official biography at his agent's web site, "has several students who are enjoying a notable performing career, gives master classes worldwide and has been invited to be a jury member in several renowned international piano competitions."

Elgar, circa 1900

The evening concludes with a work that could probably be classed as one of Edward Elgar's greatest hits, the “Enigma Variations” from 1989-99. Effectively a musical family album, the fourteen variations are vivid little sound portraits of Elgar, his wife, and his friends. Even a pet bulldog puts in an appearance in a comical variation (number 11) that portrays the dog tumbling down a grassy bank into the river Wye and then, according to the composer, "paddling up stream to find a landing place (bars 2 and 3) and his rejoicing bark on landing (second half of bar 5."

The “Enigma” of the title, according to Elgar, refers to “another and larger theme” which is “not played”. The composer never revealed what that theme might be and speculation has been lively ("most convincingly Auld Lang Syne," according to the late British musicologist Robin Golding) but I'm inclined to go along with the school of thought that the “theme” to which Elgar referred wasn't musical at all but rather the common thread of friendship and good humor that pervades the music.

Juanjo Mena

A native of Vitoria-Gasteiz, the capital city of the province of lava and of the autonomous community of the Basque Country in northern Spain, guest conductor Mena has led orchestras throughout Europe. Here in the USA he has conducted in Boston, Chicago, Los Angeles, Cincinnati, Baltimore, Houston and Pittsburgh. This is his first appearance with the St. Louis Symphony, though, so it will be interesting to see what he does with this material. His Richard Strauss performances got enthusiastic reviews in Britain and his Mozart 40th with the Los Angeles Philharmonic was lavishly praised by the L.A. Times. Similar acclaim was heaped on his Shubert 9th with the Oslo Philharmonic. So he certainly comes highly recommended.

The essentials: Juanjo Mena conducts the St. Louis Symphony, with pianist Benedetto Lupo, in Alberto Ginastera's "Variaciones concertantes," Rachmaninoff's "Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini," and Elgar's "Enigma Variations (Variations on an Original Theme)" Friday and Saturday at 8 PM and Sunday at 3 PM, February 28-March 2, 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.

Soul music

Photo by Melanie Winning

Who: The St. Louis Symphony Orchestra conducted by Sir Andrew Davis with violinist Tasmin Little
What: Music of Delius, Elgar, and Beethoven
Where: Powell Symphony Hall
When: March 1 and 2, 2013

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The score of Elgar’s 1910 Violin Concerto carries the Spanish preface, "Aqui está encerrada el alma de ....." ( "Herein is enshrined the soul of ....." ). Is it a secret love letter to the wife of a member of Parliament or even, as Elgar biographer Jerrold Northrup Moore suggests, a tribute to several of the composer’s closest friends? And does it really matter anyway?

The answer to the first question appears to be "we don’t really know," but the answer to the second, in my view, is "no." With the exception of program music, where there are explicit non-musical reference points, a work has to stand or fall on its own merits. Biographical detail can provide illumination, but it can’t be a sine qua non.

I bring this all up because while it’s useful to know that the concerto was dear to Elgar’s heart, it doesn’t make the work any more approachable for me. Yes, it’s filled with much that is admirable and even moving. The second movement, for example, is often ravishingly beautiful and the remarkable accompanied cadenza in the finale, with pizzicato tremolando strings in the background, has an unearthly quality for which I find myself unable to find adequate words. But ultimately the lack of differentiation among the concerto’s themes, at least to my ears, renders it structurally murky and makes it feel overwrought and over-long.

In his liner notes for the 1993 recording of the concerto, Michael Kennedy quotes Elgar as describing the work as follows: "It's good! awfully emotional! too emotional, but I love it." Perhaps a little less love and a bit more rigor would have helped.

That said, you could hardly ask for a better performance than the one we got Friday night. Soloist Tasmin Little and conductor Sir Andrew Davis are major exponents of the work and their commitment showed in every note. Ms. Little, resplendent in a golden gown, attacked the music with a fierce and even (at times) grim concentration that yielded a presentation rich in poetry and virtuosity. Sir Andrew, for his part, led the orchestra in a nicely paced and lovingly shaped collaboration (you could hardly call it accompaniment, given how well Elgar integrated the solo part with the orchestra). Conducting without a baton, he shaped phrases with his hands in a way that was remarkable to watch. No wonder their 2010 Chandos recording has garnered critical raves. For those who, like Elgar, love the Violin Concerto, this was a performance not to be missed.

For me, though, the real highlight of the evening was the Beethoven Symphony No. 4 that followed intermission. Whether or not you go along with the "Music History 101" notion that Beethoven’s even-numbered symphonies are lighter in tone than his odd-numbered ones, there’s no getting around the fact that the fourth is all a-bubble with good humor. From the lively Allegro vivace that follows the highly dramatic opening Adagio of the first movement, to the comical little descending passage for bassoon that interrupts the coda of the finale, this is music by a composer young enough to be optimistic but mature enough to have mastered his craft.

Sir Andrew gave us a performance that was cheerfully boisterous without sacrificing the drama of that opening Adagio or the beauty of the second movement. The musicians played at their usual high level, which meant that the many little star turns Beethoven devised for the woodwinds sounded especially fine. Congratulations to Mark Sparks (principal flute), Barbara Orland (acting co-principal oboe), Scott Andrews (principal clarinet), and Andrew Cuneo (principal bassoon) for their solo work and, while I’m thinking of it, to associate principal timpanist Tom Stubbs as well for his reliably precise work.

The concert opened with an exquisitely nuanced Walk to the Paradise Garden, originally composed by Frederic Delius in 1907 to cover a long scene change in his opera A Village Romeo and Juliet. This portrait of the intense passion of the doomed lovers has since taken on a life of its own on the concert stage. It’s quintessential Delius, with shimmering strings and a pervasive sense of pastoral beauty, all of which came through wonderfully in this performance, including some nice solo work by Ms. Orland and associate principal clarinet Diana Haskell. Sir Andrew even allowed a moment of silence at the end that felt just right. Well done.

Perhaps the best thing about Friday night’s concert, though, was the obvious joy with which Sir Andrew approached the entire business. This was apparent, for example, during the curtain calls, when he ran back into the orchestra to shake hands with individual players and repeatedly encourage the musicians to stand up and take their well-deserved bows. This is a man who takes immense public pleasure from music making and, as a result, inspires it in the audience as well.

Next on the calendar: Soprano Tony Arnold and pianist Peter Henderson perform Messiaen’s Harawi on Wednesday, March 6, at 7:30 PM at the Pulitzer Foundation. The regular season resumes on Friday, March 8, at 10:30 AM and Saturday, March 9, at 8 PM with Alban Berg’s Violin Concerto, Brahms’s Variations on a Theme of Joseph Haydn, and Beethoven’s Symphony No. 2. David Robertson conducts with soloist James Ehnes. For ticket information: stlsymphony.org.

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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Love and Death

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Who: The St. Louis Symphony Orchestra conducted by Vasily Petrenko with piano soloist Olga Kern

What: Rachmaninoff, Chopin, and Elgar
Where: Powell Symphony Hall, St. Louis
When: October 21 - 23, 2011

Every artist has his or her “greatest hit” – a work with which he or she is uniquely identified. Think of Bogart’s Sam Spade, Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes, or Rachmaninoff’s “Prelude in C-Sharp Minor”. The Russian composer’s “Isle of the Dead” – an impassioned performance of which opened this weekend’s St. Louis Symphony concerts - never made it to “greatest hit” status (the Symphony hasn’t performed it since 1976), but the painting that inspired it almost certainly was the most popular thing created by the Swiss Symbolist artist Arnold Böcklin. The stark landscape of an island necropolis towards which a white-robed figure is being rowed apparently struck a sympathetic chord over a century ago and is still compelling today. Böcklin painted five different versions of it (one of which was destroyed in World War II) in the 1880s, and reproductions were apparently common in an early 20th century Europe still reeling from war and influenza.

Dominated by the “Dies Irae” theme that shows up in so much of Rachmaninoff’s work, “Isle of the Dead” captures the ominous and majestic feel of the painting remarkably well, considering that the composer had seen only a black and white print of the original. A rocking 5/8 theme, suggestive of the sea and the boat, begins in the low strings and gradually takes over the orchestra. A more lyrical second theme (intended to represent the life force) rises in the strings about half way through, only to be beaten down by a series of relentless brass-and-percussion hammer blows. The piece ends with a return to the eternal sea.

Guest conductor Vasily Petrenko clearly knows this music inside out. He conducted a wonderfully evocative performance and was expressive but not indulgent, never losing the rhythmic pulse and sense of motion that keep the music (you should pardon the word) afloat. The orchestra always plays with great skill these days, of course, and they did so here as well.

Coming after the Romantic gloom of the Rachmaninoff, the crystalline beauty of Chopin’s “Piano Concerto No. 1” was a welcome contrast, especially when performed with such skill and feeling by soloist Olga Kern. I had cause to admire Ms. Kern’s technical proficiency when she did the Rachmaninoff “Paganini” Variations last year. This time around I was able to admire how that virtuosity is wedded to a keen musical sensibility. This was especially evident in the “Romanze” second movement, in which Ms. Kern’s nuanced and deeply felt performance brought out the sense of smiling through tears that is so characteristic of Chopin at his most lyrical.

Ms. Kern is a striking figure on the stage, particularly when decked out (as she was Saturday night) in a flowing “Cardinal red” strapless gown with black accents and, briefly, matching baseball cap for a brief “pre encore” of “Take Me Out to the Ball Game”. Her actual encore was “Spinning Wheel”, a bit of virtuoso flash by Charles Lisberg, a Swiss composer unknown to me. Ms. Kern said that she found the work in a library some years ago. Her son fell in love with it, and she has been apparently using it as an encore on a regular basis ever since. Both the piece and the story behind it were charming.

The evening concluded with a rousing performance of a work that could probably be classed as one of Edward Elgar’s greatest hits, the “Enigma Variations”. Effectively a musical family album, the fourteen variations are vivid little sound portraits of Elgar, his wife, and his friends. Even a pet bulldog puts in an appearance.

The “Enigma” of the title, according to Elgar, refers to “another and larger theme” which is “not played”. The composer never revealed what that theme might be and speculation has been lively, but I’m inclined to go along with the school of thought that the “theme” to which Elgar referred wasn’t musical at all but rather the common thread of friendship and good humor that pervades the music.

Certainly that sense of joy and affection was apparent in Mr. Petrenko’s conducting the musicians’ playing. Choice solo passages abound in the “Enigma Variations” and the symphony players made the most of all of them. Mr. Petrenko’s interpretation was full-blooded and overflowing with that life force that gets beaten down so ruthlessly in “Isle of the Dead”, making it a perfect way to end the program.

Next at Powell Hall: the orchestra celebrates Halloween with the 1925 film Phantom of the Opera featuring an original score written and performed live by Rick Friend October 28 and 29, 2011. For more information you may call 314-534-1700, visit stlsymphony.org, like the Saint Louis Symphony Facebook page, or follow @slso on Twitter.