Shiver me timbers: the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra and Chorus set sail with 'Pirates of the Caribbean' once again.

Who: The St. Louis Symphony Orchestra and Chorus conducted by Richard Kaufman
What: Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest
Where: Powell Symphony Hall, St. Louis
When: September 19-21, 2014

If you're a fan of the “Pirates of the Caribbean” films, this weekend's showing of the second film in the series on the giant screen at Powell Hall with the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra and Chorus performing the score live should be at the top of your "Things to Do" list.

But even if (like me) you can take or leave these action-and-effects-heavy blockbusters, there's still much to be said for hearing Hans Zimmer's score performed live. No matter how good the audio system is at your local multiplex, there's just nothing quite like the sound of a live orchestra and chorus. That's especially true for a "big band" score like this one, with its massive percussion battery and expanded brass and wind sections.

The low end of the orchestra, in particular, is beefed up with instruments rarely seen on the Powell Hall stage, such as the six-foot-tall contrabass saxophone and what I'm pretty sure was a contrabass trombone. They add a darker texture that's a nice match to a story in which the supernatural plays such an important part.

Indeed, Zimmer—who is very much in demand as a film composer and has many high-profile projects in his resume—has filled the score with interesting touches that add a contemporary edge to its generally post-Wagnerian harmonic vocabulary. That makes it challenging to perform in its own way, I think, so much praise is owed to the orchestra and Amy Kaiser's chorus for pulling it all off so brilliantly.

Hans Zimmer
en.wikipedia.org

Ditto conductor Richard Kaufman. Conducting forces this large in synch with a live film, as I have observed in the past, is a specialized skill, and Mr. Kaufman, the Principal Pops Conductor of the Pacific Symphony, is one of its more experienced practitioners. Gigs like this one, in fact, appear to be a central part of his career.

Yes, the movie itself is just so much visual junk food, with a story line that is mostly an excuse for elaborate (and very clever) action sequences, along with some spectacularly grotesque makeup effects for the undead crew of "The Flying Dutchman." Unless you're completely averse to this series, though, I think you'll find it all great fun. Be aware, though, that (as is often the case with these cinema blockbusters) the balance between the voice tracks on the film and the live orchestra in Powell Hall is not always ideal. It's easy to lose dialog, especially when the orchestra is playing at full volume.

That dialog is not, on the other hand, Great Art. So if you know the story you should be fine.

As is always the case with the symphony's movie events, popcorn and other snacks are available, as well as the usual drinks (including a special blue concoction created for the event, the "Dead Man's Chest"), and you can bring everything in to the hall with you. So when you go, try to be neat and police your area when you leave.

Next on the regular season calendar: David Robertson conducts the orchestra and oboe soloist Cally Banham in Sibelius's "Swan of Tuonela," along with John Adams's "My Father Knew Charles Ives," and Prokofiev's "Symphony No. 5." Performances are Saturday at 8 p.m. and Sunday at 3 p.m., September 27 and 28. As usual, the Saturday concert will be simulcast on St. Louis Public Radio KWMU at 90.7 FM and HD 1. For ticket information: stlsymphony.org.

St. Louis Symphony Preview: Storm Clouds Rising

Brahms in 1853
en.wikipedia.org

Sturm und drang (usually translated as "storm and stress") was an early Romantic (late 18th century) movement in German literature and music that emphasized drama and conflict. Both Haydn and Mozart wrote symphonies that were seen as embodying the movement's approach. The music that opens the St. Louis Symphony's 135th season this weekend was all written well after the sturm und drang movement had passed, but it's chock full of high drama nevertheless.

To be fair, sturm und drang hadn't passed so much as simply evolved into the pervading sensibility of the Romantic era by the time the young (age 21) Johannes Brahms started work on his "Piano Concerto No. 1" in 1854. The concerto comes from a stormy time in Brahms's life. After attempting suicide by flinging himself into the Rhine, Robert Schumann, Brahms's mentor and friend, committed himself to an asylum. "As soon as he heard about Robert's suicide attempt," writes René Spencer Saller in her program notes, "Brahms rushed to the family's aid, living among them as man of the house. He and Clara became more than friends, if not quite lovers." With seven children and a household to manage, Clara no doubt appreciated the help.

Schumann would die in the asylum two difficult years later, and it's hard not to think of the great stress and tragedy of those events when you hear the powerfully dramatic opening of the concerto, with its portentous drum rolls, declamatory first theme, and melancholy second. "The Piano Concerto No. 1," wrote Larry Rothe in his program notes for a San Francisco Symphony performance, "was born in psycho-turmoil." The piano doesn't even enter until around four minutes in, and when it does it acts more as an equal partner with the orchestra than a flashy solo player. Given the length and scope of the piece (it runs around 45 minutes; longer in some classic recordings), it sometimes feels as much like a symphony with piano obbligato as a concerto; in fact, a symphony was what Brahms had originally intended it to be.

This wasn't what audiences at the time expected from a concerto, and although the initial performance (in Hanover on January 22, 1859, with Brahms at the keyboard) was well received, subsequent performances weren't. In Leipzig they hissed both the music and Brahms's efforts as soloist. A March 1859 performance with the Hamburg Philharmonic went well, but a return engagement of the revised and final version of the concerto did not. After five performances and only one favorable reception, Brahms set the work aside, and it would not come into its own for many years.

At the concert grand for this weekend's performances will be Yefim Bronfman, who made such a strong impression with the Brahms 2nd in November of 2012. I'm looking forward to hearing what he and Mr. Robertson will do with the equally challenging First.

Carl Nielsen in 1910
en.wikipedia.org

If the tragedy underlying the Brahms concerto was purely personal, the one behind the other big work on the program—Carl Nielsen's "Symphony No. 4" (subtitled "The Inextinguishable")—was far more universal. Written between 1914 and 1916, the fourth and the subsequent fifth symphony (from 1920) both bear the scars of The War to End All Wars. "Although Denmark was not drawn into the First World War," writes British musicologist and broadcaster Robert Layton in his notes for the 1988 Paavo Berglund/Royal Danish Orchestra recording, "the unremitting slaughter and senseless destruction haunted Nielsen's imagination. It was quite evident that the war presented the great divide in the affairs of mankind and that life could never be the same again. Nielsen's music assumed a new mantle; its harmonies are less rich, its textures denser and darker, and with the greater complexity of dissonance."

Nielsen's personal life was in disorder as well at the time—his infidelity was causing his marriage to unravel—but there's little doubt that (as Ms. Saller points out in her program notes), even as a citizen of neutral Denmark, he viewed the cataclysm engulfing most of Europe with horror. "It's as if the world is disintegrating," he wrote in an often-quoted letter to a friend. "National feeling, that until now was distinguished as something lofty and beautiful, has become a spiritual syphilis." Sadly, little seems to have changed in the intervening century.

Like the Brahms concerto, Nielsen's symphony jumps out at you from the first notes with a leaping, aggressive theme that quickly dissolves into sad descending figures in the flutes and the first statement of a theme that will eventually morph into a triumphant declaration by the end of the final movement. There's a headlong rush in the music of this symphony that reminds us of the fact that Nielsen, like G. B. Shaw, believed in a kind of pantheistic "life force" that pervaded all of nature. It's that force that Nielsen saw as "inextinguishable," even in the face of war and death. As he wrote in his program notes for the piece, "music is life, and like it inextinguishable."

That force is demonstrated most dramatically in the famous "tympani battle" in final movement, in which tympani players placed on opposite sides of the orchestra fire volleys of sound at each other. "It's as if we are answering each other," says timpanist Shannon Wood in the symphony program notes. "One timpani goes at it, then the other timpani goes at it. You can think of it like guitar duels in rock concerts. Maybe I'll toss my stick out to the audience at the end. Or I'll kick the drums Keith Moon style.”

Vaughan Williams in the army, 1915
rvwsociety.com

In between these two symphonic titans comes a little gem that also dates from the World War I era: Ralph Vaughan Williams's short (13 minutes) romance for violin and orchestra, "The Lark Ascending." Begun in 1914 while the composer was strolling along the seaside cliffs in Kent, it was not completed until the composer returned from his service in the war disillusioned and with what would prove to be progressive hearing loss. By the time "The Lark Ascending" had its first performance in 1921, it had turned into a wistfully nostalgic look back at a bucolic way of life shattered forever by the winds of war.

The piece takes its title from an 1881 poem of the same name by George Meredith that describes the characteristic way skylarks spiral up into the sky while singing. Meredith heard a kind of pantheist divinity in the lark's song that seems to have resonated with the composer, even though he was a devout Christian. Many have since heard a metaphor for the soul's climb to heaven in the way the work's lovely melody floats and, in the end, slowly fades into silence as it makes its final ascent. Indeed, when New York public radio station WNYC polled its listeners on the best classical piece to commemorate the 10th anniversary of the 9/11 attacks, "The Lark Ascending" came in second, right after Barber's "Adagio for Strings."

The full poem is 122 lines long, but here are the lines Vaughan Williams chose to accompany the score:
He rises and begins to round,
He drops the silver chain of sound,
Of many links without a break,
In chirrup, whistle, slur and shake.

For singing till his heaven fills,
‘Tis love of earth that he instils,
And ever winging up and up,
Our valley is his golden cup
And he the wine which overflows
to lift us with him as he goes.

Till lost on his aerial rings
In light, and then the fancy sings.

The part of the lark this weekend will be played by Assistant Concertmaster Erin Schreiber. This makes me happy. I'm always glad to see local artists get the spotlight.

The concerts will open with an arrangement of "The Star Spangled Banner" by long-time New York Symphony Orchestra conductor Walter Damrosch (he led the world premieres of Gershwin's "Concerto in F" and "An American in Paris"). With lyrics about "the rocket's red glare" and "bombs bursting in air" it is, I guess, an appropriate way to open a program in which strife is such a major subtextual element.

The essentials: David Robertson conducts the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra and piano soloist Yefim Bronfman in Brahms's "Piano Concerto No. 1," violin soloist Erin Schreiber in Vaughan Williams's "The Lark Ascending," and Nielsen's "Symphony No. 4" Friday and Saturday, September 12 and 13, at 8 p.m. The concerts, which open the orchestra's 135th season, take place at Powell Symphony Hall, 718 North Grand in Grand Center. For more information: stlsymphony.org.

Absolutely free

[Update: due to inclement weather, this concert has been cancelled. Bummer.]

David Robertson

When most businesses hand out free samples, you don't get that much. Enough shampoo for one lather and rinse. A couple of pieces of candy. It's free, after all, so you shouldn't expect much. Not so with the St. Louis Symphony.

Tomorrow night (Tuesday, September 9) David Robertson and the SLSO are giving us a free sample of their 135th season, and it's a heaping helping. Starting at 7 p.m. over on Art Hill in Forest Park, you can enjoy the sparkling overture to Leonard Bernstein's 1956 operetta "Candide," the boisterous "Hoedown" from Aaron Copland's "Rodeo" ballet, the finale from Bruch's "Violin Concerto No. 1" (with concertmaster David Halen as soloist), a suite from Klaus Badelt's score for "Pirates of the Caribbean," and Rimski-Korsakov's colorful tribute to the sounds of Spain, "Capriccio Espagnol" (which also has some flashy fiddling).

David Halen

There are even some popular patriotic tunes. The concert opens with an arrangement of "The Star Spangled Banner" by long-time New York Symphony Orchestra conductor Walter Damrosch (he led the world premieres of Gershwin's "Concerto in F" and "An American in Paris"). It closes with an arrangement of "America the Beautiful" prepared by Philip Rothman for the National Youth Orchestra of the United States of America as an encore for their 2014 tour, followed by Sousa's venerable "Stars and Stripes Forever" (complete with a fireworks display).

Not bad for a free sample, eh?

But wait, there's more! What the folks at the symphony refer to as 'some of St. Louis' finest food trucks" will be selling comestibles, and both soft drink and "adult beverages" will be for sale as well (cash only). There will also be a Prize Wheel that you can spin to win symphony tickets.

The essentials: The St. Louis Symphony orchestra, conducted by David Robertson and featuring violin soloist David Halen, presents a free season preview concert on Tuesday, September 9th, beginning at 7 p.m. on Art Hill in Forest Park. Bring a blanket, a picnic and your closest friends and enjoy.

For more information on the full symphony season (which starts this Friday), check out their web site.

Rites of spring

Carlos Izcaray

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Who: The St. Louis Symphony Orchestra, Chorus and Children's Chorus conducted by Carlos Izcaray
What: Music of Steve Reich and Carl Orff
When: May 1–4, 2014
Where: Powell Symphony Hall

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

The St. Louis Symphony has a long history with Carl Orff's 1936 “scenic cantata" "Carmina Burana," from its first performance back in 1961 with Edouard Van Remoortel on the podium to David Robertson's nicely balanced performance back in May of 2011. There's even a fine 1994 recording with Leonard Slatkin and an all-star lineup of soloists that is apparently still available both in disc form and as an MP3 download from amazon.com.

The "Carmina Burana" we're getting this week from the young Venezuelan conductor Carlos Izcaray—which his web site describes as his "US symphonic debut"—ranks right up there with that of Slatkin and (my favorite) David Amado back in 2003. Like Amado, Mr. Izcaray takes a highly theatrical approach to this material without in any way compromising the music.

Nmon Ford

That's thoroughly in keeping with the composer's intentions. Based on an 1847 collection of secular poetry celebrating food, drink, gambling, and (especially) sex by anonymous authors from the 12th and 13th centuries that turned up in 1803 in the Benedictine monastery in Beuren, Germany, "Carmina Burana" was envisioned by Orff as the basis for a choral cantata with some mimed action and “magic tableaux." And, in fact, the first performance in Frankfurt in 1937 was fully staged, with dancers, sets, and costumes. It's usually presented strictly as a concert piece these days (although the Nashville Ballet gave us an impressive staging of it here this past February), but the composer's theatrical intentions are evident both in the music and in his writing about it.

The three soloists this week all have solid opera credentials. So, as you might expect, their performances were acted as well as they were sung—and they were sung quite well indeed.

Orff gave some of the strongest solos to the baritone, and Panamanian-American singer Nmon Ford made the most of them. His "Omnia Sol temperat" was filled with sultry longing. He radiated a fierce, frustrated rage as the despairing sensualist in "Estuans interius" ("Boiling inside with violent anger, in bitterness I tell myself: I am made of dust") and his Abbot of “Cucaniensis" (which I've seen translated as Cuckoominster or Cockaigne, among other things) had an element of inebriated comedy that I hadn't seen before but which played quite well.

Juliet Petrus

Soprano Juliet Petrus captured all the barely suppressed eroticism of "Amor volat undique" ("Love flies everywhere") and "Stetit puella." "There was a girl in a red tunic," runs the translation. "If anything touched that tunic, it rustled. Ah!" That final "ah" is sung to a long, melismatic line suggesting an ecstatic release, and that's exactly the way Ms. Petrus delivered it. She also managed that absurdly difficult upward glissando in "Dulcissime" with ease.

The staging of "Dulcissime" was a nice touch as well. As Ms. Petrus sang "Dulcissime, totam tibi subdo me!" ("My sweetest, I give all of myself to you!") she and Mr. Ford turned towards each other. They joined hands and stayed in character all the way through the following "Blanziflor et Helena" chorus, with its glorification of the titular lovers. It was a simple but very effective bit of theatre.

Ryan Belongie

The tenor soloist has only one number ("Olim lacus colueram"), but it's a corker—a macabre little piece about a roasted swan seen from the bird's point of view. The melodic line lies at the top of the tenor range, often forcing the singer up into his falsetto. This time around the role went to countertenor Ryan Belongie (the first time I've seen it cast that way) who was, as a result, able to sing it in his natural voice. He threw himself completely into the role, even going so far as to wear a black and white suit and dying his brown hair silver. Vocally and physically he was that swan. The impact was chilling and even heartbreaking. It was best interpretation of that piece I've seen, bar none.

If you know "Carmina Burana," of course, you know that the soloists are a relatively small part of it. The bulk of the music is carried by the chorus, which has to sing in Latin, Middle High German and Old Provençal. The Symphony Chorus and Children's Chorus (who appear only in the "Court of Love" section, singing lyrics which would make conservative moralists blanch if they knew about them) were all in fine voice when we heard them Thursday night, with clean attacks and crisp enunciation.

The vocal/orchestral balance can be a problem with this music—the instrumental ensemble is large, with a big percussion battery—but it sounded fine to us up in row D of the dress circle. The soloists were less audible up there, but I have come to realize that this is more of a Powell Hall acoustics issue than anything else.

A few intonation issues in the brasses not withstanding, the orchestra sounded wonderful. The opening and closing "O Fortuna" had all the power it required, and both Mr. Izcaray's disposition of his forces and his interpretation of the score brought out some instrumental highlights that I hadn't heard quite as clearly in previous performances of this music. The flutes and piccolo in "Veris leta facies," for example, really stood out, as did the little duet with flautist Mark Sparks and timpanist Shannon Wood in the dance the opens the "Uf dem Anger" ("On the green"). Some of his tempi were surprisingly fast—most notably in the big drinking song "In taberna quando sumus"—but not so much so that they posed a problem for the orchestra or chorus.

The concert opened with Steve Reich's "The Four Sections," a 1987 work in four movements, each of which highlights a different section of the orchestra—strings, winds, brass, and percussion. Reich and the other minimalists owe, I think, an obvious debt to the stripped-down melodic and harmonic language of "Carmina Burana" and many of Orff's other works, so pairing Reich's music with Orff's make sense from that perspective. Unfortunately it also makes it obvious just how limited Reich's palette is by comparison.

With a restricted range of dynamics and tempi and an obsessive use of repetition, Reich's music sounds more like something composed for a machine than for an orchestra of human beings. Minimalism is certainly capable of producing music of great emotional power and resonance as (say) John Adams and Philip Glass have often demonstrated. "The Four Sections," though, felt like little more than a dry academic exercise to me. The contrast with the full-blooded "Carmina Burana" could not have been more stark.

The concert will be repeated Friday Saturday at 8 PM and Sunday at 3 PM, May 2–4, 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.

Next at Powell: David Robertson closes out the season with Britten's "Les Illuminations," along with Tchaikovsky's "Symphony No. 5" and the St. Louis premiere of Marc-André Dalbavie's "La Source d'un regard" Friday and Saturday at 8 PM and Sunday at 3 PM, May 9-11. The soloist is tenor Nicholas Phan. For more information: stlsymphony.org.

St. Louis classical calendar for the week of April 14, 2014

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The St. Louis Symphony Orchestra presents a concert featuring violinist Julia Son and cellist Eric Cho, this year's winners of the annual Artist Presentation Society Youth Orchestra competition, on Wednesday, April 16, at 7:00 PM. The concert is part of the STL Symphony in the City series. “They will perform their winning selections and team up in this Mentors and Proteges concert with some of their music mentors, Hiroko Yoshida, violin, Ken Kulosa, cello, and Vera Parkin, piano, to perform additional chamber selections.” The concert takes place at Powell Symphony Hall, 718 North Grand. For more information: stlsymphony.org/symphony_city.

Amy Kaiser

The St. Louis Symphony's Young Friends of the Symphony presents Sips and Symphonies on Thursday, April 17, at 7:30 PM. “What is Sips and Symphonies? It is a great way to learn about music in a fun, casual environment. On the third Thursday of each month, we get together at Tavern of Fine Arts to listen to and discuss a piece of music being performed at an upcoming concert at Powell Hall. We will have a different guest moderator each month who will help lead an informal conversation about the music.” A special cocktail is created for each event to accompany the music. This month, symphony chorus director Amy Kaiser will discuss Orff's Carmina Burana. The event takes place at The Tavern of Fine Arts, 313 Belt in the Debaliviere Place neighborhood. For more information: tavern-of-fine-arts.blogspot.com.

Third Baptist Church presents an organ concert on Friday, April 118, at 12:30 PM as part of its free Friday Pipes series. "Join us on Fridays at Third Baptist Church for Friday Pipes, the free organ recital series celebrating the restoration of the church's 72-rank Kilgen/Möller pipe organ. Each week a different performer will be presenting a program of classical, church, and theatre organ music in the beautiful sanctuary of Third Baptist. This season's performers come from across the USA, and even from around the world. Free parking is available in the church lots on Washington Avenue." This week's featured performer is Andrew Peters, Pastoral Musician with Second Presbyterian Church. Third Baptist Church is at 620 N Grand. For more information: www.third-baptist.org.

Dr. Thomas Zirkle

The Tavern of Fine Arts presents a classical open stage night on Monday, March 14 from 7:30 – 9 PM. “Come by yourself or bring your quartet. Sight read through a Beethoven quartet or use this as an opportunity to put the finishing touches on that Hindemith Viola Sonata you have been working on. All ages and skill levels are welcome. We have a 6' grand piano and an accompanist.” The Tavern of Fine Arts is at 313 Belt in the Debaliviere Place neighborhood. For more information: tavern-of-fine-arts.blogspot.com.

The Tavern of Fine Arts presents a marimba concert by Dr. Thomas Zirkle of St. Louis Community College at Forest Park on Friday, April 18, at 8 PM. This concert will feature music composed (or transcribed) for the marimba. The Tavern of Fine Arts is at 313 Belt in the Debaliviere Place neighborhood. For more information: tavern-of-fine-arts.blogspot.com.

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.

Swan song

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This weekend the St. Louis Symphony is presenting two separate programs: the regular concert series on Friday and Sunday with Finnish conductor Hannu Lintu on the podium and Dutch violinist Simone Lamsma as the soloist; and the annual "Red Velvet Ball" fundraiser concert on Saturday night with David Robertson conducting and celebrity cellist Yo-Yo Ma in the solo spot.  In this article I'll just deal with the regular series.

The unifying theme for this weekend, as Paul Schiavo points out in his program notes, is "song and dance"—with the emphasis on the latter.  The concerts open with Bela Bartók’s 1923 Dance Suite, written in celebration of the 50th anniversary of the unification of the Hungarian cities Óbuda, Buda, and Pest to form the national capitol Budapest.  A pioneering ethnomusicologist as well as celebrated composer and pianist, Bartók spent much of 1908 tramping through the Hungarian countryside with fellow composer Zoltán Kodály collecting Magyr folk tunes.  The spiky melodies and complex ployrhythms of that music would strongly influence what both composers produced from then on.

The Dance Suite is an excellent example.  Its six short movements (the entire thing runs around 15-17 minutes) are inspired by (but not direct quotes of) Wallachian, Hungarian, and even Arabic songs and dances—the latter stemming mostly from a 1913 trip the composer took to Algeria.  Even if you're not aware of the complex logic behind the organization of the suite (which you can read about at the Kennedy Center's web site), you'll still be able to appreciate the endless melodic and rhythmic invention involved.

Fun Fact: if you want to know what the kind of music Bartók collected sounds like, check out John Unlemann's Music from the Hills show over at 88.1 KDHX.  The two most recent episodes are available for on-demand listening.

Simone Lamsma
Photo: Otto van den Toorn

Taking us into intermission is the Prokofiev Violin Concerto No. 2 in G minor, op. 63.  Prokofiev wrote it in 1935, two years after he returned to his native Russia from 15 years of self-imposed exile in the West and one year before he was officially repatriated.  Prokofiev was happy to return home, as the warmth of the main melody of the second movement seems to attest.  But the outer movements have a drama and drive that frankly sounds a bit ominous at times.  It's a piece that demands a high degree of virtuosity from the soloist but given Simone Lamsma's impressive Shostakovich Violin Concerto No. 1 with the symphony back in March of 2011 (I called it a "remarkably seamless and powerful reading") I don't expect that to be an issue.

Fun Fact: The 2nd concerto represents a turn to a simple and more popular style that marks Prokofiev's music in the 1930s.  It's written for a smallish orchestra with a percussion battery that includes castanets—possibly a nod to the fact that the piece was premiered in Madrid.

The concerts conclude with a suite from Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake ballet.  Written for the Bolshoi Ballet, the work was not especially well received at its March 3, 1877 premiere—partly because the original choreographer, Julius Reisinger, was (frankly) a hack who failed to do the music justice.  It might have languished in obscurity if it hadn't made such an impression on Marius Petipa who, together with Tchaikovsky's brother Modest, staged the ballet's second act as part of a posthumous tribute to the composer in November of 1893.  It was so successful that a fully revised version was eventually staged for the Mariinsky Theatre in 1895 with considerable success.  Today, Swan Lake is probably the most famous ballet in the world and one of the most frequently performed.

Hannu Lintu
Photo: Kaapo Kamu

The suite for this weekend's concerts skips back and forth among the ballet's four acts.  We get many of the most memorable scenes, including the iconic "Dance of the cygnets"—possibly the best-known en pointe number of all time—and the triumphant finale, in which the famous oboe theme that sets the nocturnal scene for the beginning of Act II undergoes a triumphant transformation in the brasses.  This is sure-fire material and looks like a good match for conductor Lintu's dramatic and commanding presence on the podium (as demonstrated by his appearance here back in February).

Fun Fact: The scenario summary Paul Schiavo cites in his program notes is the one that ends tragically with Odette, the enchanted swan princess, throwing herself into the titular lake and drowning after the unintentional betrayal by Prince Siegfried, who has been seduced into marrying the black swan Odile by the evil magician Rothbart.  Seigfried follows her and drowns himself as well.  Their sacrifice kills Rothbart and breaks the spell that turned the princesses into swans.  As the music turns triumphant and the sun rises, and we see the lovers rising from the lake, united in death.  That scenario was not the one used in 1877, though, and many productions (including the current Mariinsky version) have gone back to the original happy ending in which Siegfried kills Rothbart to the triumphal trumpets, destroying his magic and uniting Odette and Siegfried in life rather than death.  The music works either way, which strikes me as rather cool.

This program will be presented twice: Friday at 8 PM and Sunday at 3 PM, October 18 and 20 (no Saturday this time since that's the night of the Red Velvet Ball).  For more information: stlsymphony.org.