Symphony Preview: Wagner and friends with David Robertson and Christine Brewer Friday and Saturday, March 6 and 7, 2015

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This August, Union Avenue Opera will present the last installment of its four-year traversal of Richard Wagner's "Ring" operas: "Götterdämmerung" ("Twilight of the Gods"). This weekend David Robertson, soprano Christine Brewer, and the St. Louis Symphony are presenting "Brünnhilde's Immolation," the final scene of that opera. Think of it as something of a preview.

Wagner in 1871
en.wikipedia.org

Of course, Union Avenue will be using a reduced version of the score prepared by British composer Jonathan Dove. At Powell Hall you'll get the Full Monty (or maybe the Full Richard) with a massive orchestra that includes four (count 'em, four) Wagner tubas (instruments in the euphonium range but with smaller bells and French horn mouthpieces), eight horns, a bass trumpet and a pair of harps. You'll also be getting a highly regarded soprano with a penchant for big, powerful roles in Christine Brewer.

That's a good thing, because in the "Ring" operas Wagner writes vocal lines that are very long and closely integrated with the orchestra. "It is the avoidance of cadence or period in this manner," writes British critic John Warrack in the Norton "History of Opera", "that earns the vocal line the term unendliche Melodie [literally "endless melody"]. The demands made upon singers in articulating such lines are enormous, both of sheer stamina but also in the necessity of a close understanding of the issues involved".

To do Wagner justice, in other words, you need to be not only a powerful and technically skilled singer, you have to be a capable actor as well. Ms. Brewer's substantial operatic resume should serve her well here.

And that immolation scene is nothing if not dramatic. The stage directions in the libretto call for vassals to build a funeral pyre and place the body of the treacherously slain Siegfried on it. Brünnhilde sets the pyre aflame, jumps on her horse, and together they leap into the flames. Everything goes up in smoke, the Rhine overflows its banks, and finally Valhalla itself is incinerated. It's Armageddon on a cinematic scale, calling for all the skills a stage designer can muster.

I'm not sure how Union Avenue will manage it, but this weekend the performance will be accompanied by projections created by S. Katy Tucker. She provided some mood-setting visuals to go with an all-American program last fall, so it will be interesting to see what she does with the Wagner.

The second half of this weekend's concerts will be taken up with one very big work: the "Symphony No. 3" of Anton Bruckner (1824-1896), in its final 1889 revision. Bruckner was a gushingly avid admirer of Wagner and, in fact, dedicated this symphony to him, so its placement on the program makes both musical and historical sense. Personally, I'm glad to see it simply because I don't think Bruckner's symphonies get as much attention as they deserve.

"Anton Bruckner arrives in Heaven". Bruckner is greeted by (from left to right):
Liszt, Wagner, Schubert, Schumann, Weber, Mozart, Beethoven, Gluck,
Haydn, Handel, Bach. (Silhouette drawing by Otto Böhler)
en.wikipedia.org

Writers of music criticism seem unable to discuss the symphonies of Anton Bruckner without invoking the imagery of the Gothic cathedral. Perhaps that's because they so strongly suggest a connection between the material and ethereal planes—great blocks of sound alternating with moments of otherworldly beauty. In Bruckner's music you can hear both great, heaven-storming power and quiet mystery. Time seems to act differently in a Bruckner symphony, with each movement incorporating so much emotional depth that it can feel both shorter and longer than the clock indicates. Amazing stuff, really.

Alas, as René Spencer Saller relates in her program notes, the audience at the premiere of the first version of Bruckner's third in 1877 (with the composer at the podium) didn't hear any of that. "Calling the concert a disaster," she writes, "is an understatement: think nightmare fuel, the stuff of suicide notes. He was set up to fail. Although he was a good chorus director, Bruckner had virtually no experience conducting a symphony orchestra, and this was a huge and demanding work. Even worse, he was leading—or attempting to lead—openly hostile musicians who seemed determined to make him a laughingstock."

Wagner's endorsement of his younger protégé probably didn't help. "It was after Wagner had espoused his cause," observed conductor and Bruckner booster F. Charles Adler in a 1938 radio broadcast, "accepting the dedication of the Third Symphony and hailing him as the greatest symphonic writer after Beethoven, that his trials really began. The critics who had praised his early efforts turned, and could find no words virulent enough to express their distaste. One went to far as to cry: 'Bruckner composes like a drunkard!' Orchestras and conductors refused his works as unplayable. Everywhere fun was poked at him and his music. To a man of Bruckner's timidity it was nearly fatal. But somehow he did survive it."

Bruckner not only survived but triumphed. The first performance of his "Symphony No. 7" in 1884 was a rousing success and the composer lived to see himself lionized worldwide. The music of the two other greatest post-Wagnerian composers—Gustav Mahler and Richard Strauss—may be more popular these days, but Bruckner is nevertheless firmly established as one of the great late-19th century symphonists.

Photograph of Gabriel Fauré
by Eugène Pirou, c. 1900
en.wikipedia.org

The concerts will open with the "Elegie for Cello and Orchestra," Op. 24, by Gabriel Fauré (1845-1924). Like Bruckner, Fauré was an admirer (albeit a less ardent one) of Wagner. Unlike the older composer, Fauré was not much influenced by Wagner in his own music, opting for a more restrained style and shorter, less grandiose musical structures. "Whereas Wagner was the undisputed king of his self-invented 'universal music drama,'” writes Ms. Saller, "Fauré excelled in exquisite miniatures: chamber music, art song, piano pieces." His best-known large work—the 1890 "Requiem in D minor," Op. 48, clocks in at a modest 35 minutes or so and is characterized by a radiant and transparent sound that's miles away from Bruckner's massive sound cathedrals.

Still, the sad and wistful tone of the "Elegie" should work well as a preparation for the prolonged Wagnerian death scene that will follow it. "Fauré 's preference for light orchestral scoring," writes Dr. Beth Fleming in program notes for Symphony Silicon Valley, "is the ideal envelope for the rich, resonant tone of the 'cello, and in this beautiful work the solo voice controls the situation from the first moment to the last. Over steady chords reminiscent of a dirge, the 'cello melody leads the listener through a rapturous lament that begins dramatically and gradually becomes more quiet and resigned. The orchestra speaks alone for a time in a contrasting melody and is eventually joined by the 'cello, which takes over in a magnificent cadenza before the return of the original funereal section. Eventually the 'cello seems to sing itself into silence. The result of this tiny work is an impeccable moment of pure musical poetry."

The essentials: David Robertson conducts the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra with Christine Brewer, soprano, and Bjorn Ranheim, cello, on Friday and Saturday at 8 p.m., March 6 and 7. The concerts feature Bruckner's "Symphony No. 3" and the "Immolation Scene" from Wagner's " Götterdämmerung" ("Twilight of the Gods"). The concerts take place at Powell Symphony Hall, 718 North Grand in Grand Center. For more information: stlsymphony.org.

All the hits, all the time

Steven Jarvi

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The St. Louis Symphony's regular subscription season ended a month ago with a bang-up performance of Tchaikovsky's Symphony No. 5 the weekend of May 9th. But they've got a final encore concert for you this Saturday.

In fact, it's kind of a meta-concert in that it's an encore program consisting of works often played as encores or (in at least one case) curtain raisers. They're calling it "Bravo! An Evening of Classical Favorites." And so it is.

Here's what's on the program, along with a few brief comments from me.

Berlioz: Roman Carnival Overture, op. 9 - This was actually an attempt by Berlioz to salvage something from his failed 1838 opera Benvenuto Cellini. It includes some themes from the opera's carnival scene, hence the title. Considered radical in its time and technically challenging, the opera has rarely been performed.

Faure: Pavane, op. 50 – Originally an 1887 solo piano piece, the Pavane was later orchestrated Faure for a small ensemble with optional chorus. There's no chorus listed on the program, so presumably you'll get the orchestral version. Faure thought this haunting and stately little piece "elegant, but not otherwise important." It turned out to be one of his biggest hits.

Morton Gould

Gould: "Pavanne" from American Symphonette No. 2 – American composer Morton Gould's "Pavanne" couldn't be more different from Faure's if it tried. It's jazzy and jaunty—very much in keeping with the overall mood of the American Symphonette No. 2, which Gould wrote for radio in 1939.

Grieg: "In the Hall of the Mountain King" from Peer Gynt – This five-act epic verse drama by Henrik Ibsen is (unlike many of the great Norwegian dramatist's other plays) rarely seen outside of his native land. The music Grieg wrote for the premiere production, though, has proved immensely popular. There's an optional choral part for this piece as well.

Dvorák: Selections from Slavonic Dances, op. 46 – Dvorák wrote two sets of Slavonic Dances (Op. 46 in 1878 and Op. 72 in 1886) as pieces for two pianos. They were so popular he was obliged to orchestrate them—and those versions proved even more popular. Every one of these works is a little orchestral gem, representing a different type Czech dance.

Open-air performance of The Bartered Bride
at Zoppot Waldoper, Danzig

Smetana: "Dance of the Comedians" from The Bartered Bride – Smetana's 1863 comic opera had a rocky beginning, but has gone on to achieve popularity world-wide. Performances of it aren't as common here in the USA, but the overture and orchestral excerpts like this one are invariably crowd pleasers. The "Dance of the Comedians" also pops up in "Road Runner" cartoons, as I recall.

Bizet: "Farandole" from L'Arlésienne – Alphonse Daudet's 1872 drama (usually translated as "The Girl from Arles") wasn't well received in its day and has pretty much disappeared since. Bizet's incidental music, though, continues to be popular. The "Farandole" incorporates a traditional French Christmas carol, "The March of the Kings."

Glinka: Ruslan and Lyudmila Overture - Glinka's 1842 fairy-tale opera isn't done very often. The overture, though, one of those pieces that used to crop up often as “filler” on classical LPs—a function it still serves on classical radio stations today. Its alluring melodies and neat little solo tympani part are irresistible.

Fred, Ginger, and canine companion

Gershwin: Promenade – This perky little tune started out life as the accompaniment for a dog-walking sequence aboard an ocean liner in the 1937 Fred Astaire-Ginger Rogers vehicle Shall We Dance. In 1960 it was published as "Promenade." There are many recordings of it out there, including one by the St. Louis Symphony as part of its complete Gershwin orchestral works set.

Gliere: "Russian Sailors' Dance" from The Red Poppy – This 1927 ballet has would up on the ash heap of history, largely (I assume) because of the heavy-handed Soviet propaganda that constitutes its scenario. Individual numbers are still popular, though—especially this typically rousing dance that starts majestically and builds to a wild climax. I recall playing this in the school orchestra. The trombone part gets pretty hectic towards the end.

Tchaikovsky: "Waltz" from Sleeping Beauty, op. 66 – Here's one of those famous classical pieces that became the basis for a popular song: Jack Lawrence and Sammy Fain's "Once Upon a Dream" from the 1959 animated Disney film Sleeping Beauty. In its original 1890 form it's a typically sweeping Tchaikovsky waltz.

Brahms: Hungarian Dance No.5 in G minor – It's only appropriate that this should be on the same program as the Dvorák Slavonic Dances since it was, in part, the success of the Brahms dances that moved Dvorák to compose his. Although Brahms is the composer of record for the 21 Hungarian Dances, most of them actually used existing folk melodies. The fifth dance, in fact, uses a melody composed by Béla Kéler, which Brahms, apparently innocently, took for a folk tune. Copyright law was less fierce in those days.

Grieg: "Last Spring" from Two Elegiac Melodies – The Two Elegiac Melodies for string orchestra from 1880 were inspired by poems of Aasmund Olafsson Vinje. "Last Spring" is wonderful mixture of joy and sadness, with some final bars that will melt the hardest heart. Bring a hankie.

El sombrero de tres picos
by the Spanish National Ballet

Falla: "Final Dance (Jota)" from El sombrero de tres picos (The Three-Cornered Hat) – I can't think of anything better to bring you back from the melancholy of "Last Spring" than this joyous final dance from Manuel de Falla's 1919 comic ballet. First performed at the Alhambra Theatre in London, El sombrero de tres picos boasted choreography by Léonide Massine and costumes by some guy named Picasso. The great Ernest Ansermet conducted. Not shabby.

The essentials: Steven Jarvi conducts the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra in "Bravo! An Evening of Classical Favorites" on Saturday, June 7, at 7:30 PM at Powell Symphony Hall, 718 North Grand. For more information: stlsymphony.org. Note that Circus Flora is set up on the Powell Hall south lot, so parking could be at a premium.

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.