Friends again

James Gaffigan

Who: The St. Louis Symphony conducted by James Gaffigan
What: Music of Mendelssohn and Brahms
When: February 7-9, 2014
Where: Powell Symphony Hall

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St. Louis Symphony Orchestra guest conductor (and fellow Rice University alum) James Gaffigan gave us a highly dramatic and immensely satisfying Mendelssohn "Symphony No. 3 in A minor," op. 56 ("Scottish"), Friday morning, along with an equally impassioned Brahms "Concerto in A minor for Violin, Cello, and Orchestra (Double Concerto)," op. 102. Symphony Concertmaster David Halen and Principal Cello Daniel Lee were the soloists in the Brahms, demonstrating that you don't have to fly in stars to get stellar performances.

"The lovable side of Brahms' nature," write Wallace Brockway and Herbert Weinstock in their chatty "Men of Music," "is nowhere better illustrated than in the circumstances surrounding the composition...of the "Double Concerto." Brahms wrote it in 1887 in an attempt to mend fences with his friend and musical collaborator Joseph Joachim, from whom he had been estranged for six years after Brahms was caught in the crossfire of Joachim's messy divorce.

The attempt was apparently successful. Joachim and cellist Robert Hausmann (who had commissioned the work) gave the first performance with Brahms on the podium. Indeed, listening to the intimate relationship between the violin and cello in this music, it's impossible not to picture the kind of close friendship Brahms wanted to rekindle. As Paul Schiavo writes in his program notes, "the cello and violin are equal partners, paradoxically both solo, yet conjoined... The violin finishes the cello's sentences; the cello chuckles at the violin's jokes. They are having an intimate conversation, really listening to each other, supporting, and forgiving each other."

Daniel Lee and David Halen

In giving the solo roles in the concerto to colleagues who have worked together for years, I think the symphony has given us a performance with an extra degree of depth and resonance. Mr. Halen and Mr. Lee were clearly very much in synch with each other throughout the concerto, taking on the role of old friends Brahms has written for them.

For me, the whole collaboration was neatly captured in a moment during the Vivace non troppo finale when, after the statement of the first theme of the rondo, Mr. Halen and Mr. Lee looked at each other and shared a smile as if to say, "that was fun, wasn't it?" That attitude comes across to an audience, which is probably one reason why they got a smattering of spontaneous applause after the first movement and a well-earned standing ovation at the end.

This is difficult material to perform, by the way. That's partly because, as Brahms wrote to Clara Schumann, he was "writing for instruments whose character and sound one can only incidentally imagine" and partly because the soloists have to work so closely, often trading licks like traditional fiddlers. Mr. Halen and Mr. Lee played together like a single instrument, weaving a seamless garment of sound. Nicely done, gentlemen.

Mendelssohn got the idea for his "Symphony No. 3 in A minor", op. 56, ("Scottish") back in 1829 during a walking tour of the British aisles. Scotland in general and Edinburgh in particular made a strong impression on him. Although most of the symphony wasn't written until 1842, Mendelssohn got the idea for the slow introduction to the first movement when he visited the ruined Holyrood Chapel in Edinburgh. "In the evening twilight," he wrote, "we went today to the palace where Queen Mary lived and loved... Everything round is broken and mouldering and the bright sky shines in. I believe I today found in that old chapel the beginning of my 'Scottish' Symphony."

Holyrood Chapel

The actual "Scottishness" of the rest of the symphony has been a subject of some debate among critics over the years, but everyone seems to agree that this dramatic and engaging work is one of Mendelssohn's best. It was also, despite the number assigned to it, his last; he died five years after its 1842 premiere.

James Gaffigan gave it the full Romantic treatment, beginning with a forceful declaration of that "Holyrood" introduction followed by a statement of the main theme that brought out the clarinet melody more prominently than usual—a nice touch. That set the tone for the rest of this highly charged performance, which emphasized strong tempo and dynamic contrasts and left many individual moments lingering in my memory.

The clarinet theme of the second movement, for example, sounded especially perky in the hands of Scott Andrews, as did the oboe reply from Phil Ross. The horns, led by Associate Principal Thomas Jöstlein, also impressed me with their balance of power and precision in the rapid passages here. In fact, the winds and brasses sounded excellent all the way through, which is no small accomplishment for a morning concert. Warm-ups must have started fairly early.

The third movement Adagio was powerfully majestic and the A major restatement of the "Holyrood" theme at the end sounded notably jubilant, bringing everything to a highly satisfying conclusion.

The concert opened with an equally fine reading of Mendelssohn's "Die schöne Melusine (The Fair Melusina) Overture," op. 32 from 1833, inspired by a medieval French fairy tale about a water sprite's unhappy love affair with a human prince. The piece is a bit discursive in places but offers opportunities for the winds to show off. And so they did, with the limpid melody that represents the heroine first stated by the clarinets and played quite effectively Friday morning by Associate Principal Diana Haskell and Tina Ward and later picked up beautifully by the flutes (Ann Choomack and Associate Principal Andrea Caplan). This strikes me as somewhat minor league Mendelssohn, but Mr. Gaffigan and the symphony musicians certainly made a fine case for it.

For what it's worth, I couldn't help noticing that Mr. Gaffigan, like many of the symphony's guest conductors, had a very physically demonstrative style on the podium, often favoring big gestures and generally characterized by what seems to be a real joy in music making so large that it can barely be contained. As an audience member, I've always found that approach appealing.

Next on the schedule: Lift Every Voice: A Black History Month Celebration with Kevin McBeth conducting the orchestra and IN UNISON chorus Friday, February 14, at 7:30 PM. Then Steven Jarvi conducts the orchestra for a live performance of Max Steiner's score for Casablanca, accompanying a showing of the classic film. There will be a drink special, popcorn, another movie-themed goodies, all of which you can take into the hall with you. The opening credits roll at 7 PM on Saturday and 2 PM on Sunday, February 15 and 16, at Powell Symphony Hall, 718 North Grand. For more information: stlsymphony.org.

Music of love and friendship

James Gaffigan

This weekend (February 7-9) marks the return to the Powell Hall stage of Lucerne Symphony Chief Conductor (and fellow Rice University alum) James Gaffigan for a program of music by Mendelssohn and Brahms that puts two of the symphony's own in the spotlight.

The concerts open with "Die schöne Melusine (The Fair Melusina) Overture," op. 32 from 1833.  It's not, as you might think from the title, the overture to an opera or play but rather a stand-alone concert work based on an extra-musical subject.  It's the sort of thing Liszt would later call a "symphonic poem." That wouldn't happen for another decade, though, so back then such pieces were simply called "concert overtures."  Mendelssohn's far more well-known "The Hebrides" op. 26 (a.k.a. "Fingal's Cave") is a classic example.

The story of "The Fair Melusina" comes from the realm of the supernatural.  "The eponymous heroine," writes Paul Schiavo in his program notes, "derives from a medieval French tale about a water nymph, or mermaid, who can pass as a human being. She falls in love with a human prince and agrees to marry him on the condition that he leave her alone one day every week, when she secretly reverts to her half-fish form. When her husband discovers her true identity, their happiness ends and Melusina is exiled to an aquatic fairy realm." 

This is not unfamiliar territory for classical composers; a similar story drives Dvořák’s 1901 opera "Rusalka" (the Metropolitan Opera live HD broadcast of which is, coincidentally, showing at the Art Museum on Saturday afternoon).  As Robert Schumann noted, though, Mendelssohn doesn't attempt literal storytelling her so much as he “portrays only the characters of the man and the woman, of the proud, knightly Lusignan and the enticing, yielding Melusina."  You hear the latter in clarinet arpeggios and the former in a more heroic theme for the strings.  Nice stuff, and not heard as often as "Hebrides"; the last symphony performance was in 2008.

The ruins of Holyrood Abbey's nave in August 2011

The other Mendelssohn piece on the program—the "Symphony No. 3 in A minor", op. 56, “Scottish”—is much more well known and is frequently heard in concert halls and on the radio.   Although most of it wasn't written until 1842, Mendelssohn got the idea for the slow introduction to the first movement when he visited the ruined Holyrood Chapel in Edinburgh on 1829 walking tour of Scotland.  “In the evening twilight," he wrote, "we went today to the palace where Queen Mary lived and loved…Everything round is broken and mouldering and the bright sky shines in. I believe I today found in that old chapel the beginning of my ‘Scottish’ Symphony.” 

That opening theme aside, though, the "Scottish" nature of the symphony is a subject of some debate among critics and program annotators.  Some, like the Los Angeles Philharmonic's Eric Bromberger, feel that "no one is sure what that nickname means. This music tells no tale, paints no picture, nor does it quote Scottish tunes."  British composer and conductor Julius Harrison, on the other hand, thought the symphony "illustrates the near-scenic aspect of Mendelssohn's romantic art" and felt that the jaunty clarinet theme of the Vivace non troppo second movement has "a touch of 'Charlie is My Darling' about it's dotted quavers—something Mendelssohn may have remembered and set down."

I fall more into the late Mr. Harrison's camp, but wherever you come down on the "Scottishness" of this music there's no getting around its unflagging appeal and elegant construction.  To hear this music is to love it.

Love played a part in the composition of the second work on this weekend's program, the "Concerto in A minor for Violin, Cello, and Orchestra (Double Concerto)", op. 102.  "The lovable side of Brahms' nature," write Wallace Brockway and Herbert Weinstock in their chatty "Men of Music," "is nowhere better illustrated than in the circumstances surrounding the composition" of this piece.  Brahms wrote in in 1887 in an attempt to mend fences with his friend and musical collaborator Joseph Joachim.  Brahms had taken (or appeared to take, anyway) the side of Joachim's wife in an ugly divorce suit six years earlier and Joachim refused to forgive him despite repeated attempts at reconciliation.

A commission for a concerto from Robert Hausmann, the cellist Joachim's string quartet, finally gave Brahms the opening he needed.  Brahms approached Joachim for advice on the concerto and, as it evolved from a cello concerto to an unusual concerto for violin and cello (harking back to the old Baroque concerto grosso), the old musical partnership between the two men was rekindled.  "This concerto is a work of reconciliation," noted Clara Schumann in her journal. "Joachim and Brahms have spoken to each other again for the first time in years."

Daniel Lee and David Halen

It's a remarkable piece due in part—as Mr. Schiavo notes—to "its insistence that the cello and violin are equal partners, paradoxically both solo, yet conjoined. Like all great pairings, the union engenders something entirely new—in this case a crazy hybrid super-stringed instrument that can plummet as low as a cello and soar as high as a violin in one delirious run."  It opens with a dramatic declaration for the cello, followed by a more lyrical theme on the violin.  The cello quickly joins in and soon they're off on a rapturous duet that will continue, in various forms, for the next 33 minutes or so.  "They are having an intimate conversation,' writes Mr. Schiavo, "really listening to each other, supporting, and forgiving each other. Together they make a better person."  It really is a labor of love, and that comes through is every measure.

That said, Brahms himself was somewhat dismissive of the concerto and lacked confidence in his writing for the solo instruments.  "It is quite a different matter," he wrote to Clara Schumann, "writing for instruments whose character and sound one can only incidentally imagine than for an instrument which one knows totally—as I do the piano." 

And he wasn't alone in his misgivings.  As Peter Gutmann writes at Classical Notes, Edward Hanslick (normally a fan) dismissed it as “a product of a great constructive mind rather than an irresistible inspiration of creative imagination and invention.”  Brockway and Weinstock go ever further: "It is of appalling difficulty both for soloists and audience: playing it may give the pleasure of obstacles overcome, but there is no such reward for most listeners."

Listening to the Yo-Yo Ma and Itzhak Perlman recording with Daniel Barenboim and the Chicago Symphony now, I find it impossible to agree with that assessment.  The give and take between the soloists that Mr. Schiavo describes is irresistible to my ears. 

Brockway and Weinstock are right about the technical challenges, though.  Fortunately this weekend's performances will feature concertmaster David Halen and principal cellist Daniel Lee in the solo roles, so technique isn't likely to be an issue.  And there will be the additional appeal of watching these two colleagues work together.

The Essentials: James Gaffigan conducts the St. Louis Symphony with soloists David Halen (violin) and Daniel Lee (cello) in the Brahms "Concerto in A minor for Violin, Cello, and Orchestra (Double Concerto)", op. 102, along with Mendelssohn's "Die schöne Melusine (The Fair Melusina) Overture," op. 32 and "Symphony No. 3 in A minor", op. 56.  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 7-9, at Powell Hall, 718 North Grand 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.