Why is "Porgy and Bess" a classic? Lyric Opera of Chicago has the answer.

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If your only exposure to George Gershwin and DuBose Heyward's 1935 opera "Porgy and Bess" has been the tour of the cut down "Broadway" version that played the Muny this past summer or even the interesting but flawed Union Avenue Opera/Black Rep co-production from 2007, you'd probably be justified in wondering why this is considered a great American opera. The current Lyric Opera of Chicago revival of its 2008 production—which runs through December 20—demonstrates why.

With masterful stage direction by Francesca Zambello (based on her original staging at Washington National Opera) and insightful musical direction by former St. Louis Symphony resident conductor Ward Stare, this is the "Porgy and Bess" that will remind you what all the fuss is about. This was especially apparent for me in the first act (consisting of Gershwin’s Act I and first two scenes of Act II), which has some of the most emotionally powerful moments in the opera. “Bess, You Is My Woman Now” was particularly poignant.

The cast is solid, with great (if sometimes under-powered) singing and utterly convincing acting. Baritone Eric Owens leads the way as a fully realized and credible Porgy. As originally written, the character can some across as a bit one-dimensional and simple, but there was none of that here. The role sometimes goes low for a baritone, but Mr. Owens still has plenty of power in the bottom of his range.

Soprano Adina Aaron’s Bess also avoids cliché, emphasizing instead the character’s vulnerability and the terrible threat posed by her addiction to Sportin’ Life’s “happy dust.” There’s not a lot a sexual chemistry between the two, but I’m not sure that’s a bad thing, as it suggests there may be a purity to her relationship with Porgy that is impossible with the brutish Crown.

Speaking of whom, baritone Eric Greene makes Crown the appalling force of nature he should be. This is a character who is all Freudian “id”—unchecked desire with no sense of control. We got all that from Mr. Greene and a powerful voice as well.

Tenor Jermaine Smith has almost made a career out of the role of the amoral drug dealer Sportin’ Life. He played the role in Lyric Opera’s 2008 production as well as in the Union Avenue production I mentioned earlier. Reviewing him back then, I praised his clear, flexible voice and dance moves that remind me that the role was, from the beginning, a kind of homage to the vaudeville stage. It’s still true.

There are many other outstanding performances here, such as soprano Karen Slack’s Serena (her “My Man’s Gone Now” was heard-rending), soprano Hlengiwe Mkhwanazi as the doomed Clara, and contralto Gwendolyn Brown’s take-no-prisoners Maria. Baritone Norman Garrett also makes a strong impression as the equally doomed Jake. In fact, there’s really not a single performance here that isn’t at least good, and many clearly qualify as great.

The chorus figures prominently in “Porgy and Bess,” but Chorus Master Michael Black’s singers are more than up to the challenge. Gershwin makes it an important character in its own right, often commenting on and participating in the action. Many scenes feature virtuoso writing for chorus members, a classic example being the Act II "storm" sequence in which six completely independent vocal lines slowly merge with the chorus to produce the spiritual "Oh, de Lawd shake the Heavens". It’s a powerful moment, powerfully delivered.

Peter J. Davison’s unit set makes the scene changes quick and fluid. Combined with Mark McCullough’s atmospheric lighting, it makes Catfish Row look rather like a decaying and abandoned prison, all rusted sheet metal and institutional ugliness, but I think that neatly makes the point that the residents are effectively imprisoned by their poverty and by the brutality of the racist power structure represented so effectively by the police and other representatives of law enforcement in Heyward’s libretto. In Gershwin’s “Porgy and Bess,” the moment a white character opens his mouth, the music stops dead. You couldn’t ask for a more stark illustration of the racial divide.

Movement and choreography are important to “Porgy and Bess” a well. Assistant director and choreographer Denni Sayers makes the dance numbers seem to emerge naturally from the rest of the stage movement, making it an integral part of the characters. In both musical theatre and opera, dance numbers can sometimes feel like (and, indeed, are often intended to be) separate set pieces, divorced from the action. Not so here.

Praise is also due to costume designer Paul Tazewell. His earthy palette nicely matches that of Mr. Davison and helps give the show a unified look.

Ward Stare conducts the orchestra with assurance and if his tempi are sometimes a bit brisk, they’re clearly not a problem for either his musicians or his singers. Mr. Stare, as I noted some years ago, is clearly a man whose star is on the ascendant. This show will certainly be another feather in his cap.

I won’t say this is a perfect “Porgy and Bess,” but it’s so close that it probably doesn’t matter. This is a difficult piece to pull off at all and opportunities to see it done this well can be rare. It continues through December 20th in the company's opulent space in the Chicago Loop and is well worth a trip to the Windy City.

Final note: I’m not a hotel critic, but if you do make the trip up here, seriously consider the place where we stayed, the Kimpton Allegro. It’s a cool little boutique hotel and only three blocks from the opera house. The adjoining 312 Chicago restaurant is worthwhile as well.

The real thing

Robert Brubaker as Luigi and
Emily Pulley as Giorgetta in Il tabarro
Photo: Ken Howard

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Who: Opera Theatre of St. Louis
What: Puccini’s Il Tabarro and Leoncavallo’s I Pagliacci
Where: The Loretto-Hilton Center
When: through June 29th

Opera Theatre’s second production this season is a dramatically powerful and musically impeccable combination of two classics of verismo opera: Puccini’s “Il Tabarro” (“The Cloak”) and Leoncavallo’s “I Pagliacci” (“The Clowns”). “Verismo” is, literally, the Italian for “realism”; the verismo libretti deal with the joys and sorrows of ordinary people. Verismo arose as a kind of reaction to the mythic and historical subjects favored by Verdi and earlier masters.

Verismo was, in short, an attempt to make opera more “relevant” to (in the words of critic Stanley Sadie) “a middle-class public, which had a social conscience and expected to be seriously addressed in the course of its entertainment.”

Yesterday’s relevance, however, is today’s historical artifact. The provincial touring commedia dell’arte troupe of “Pagliacci” and, to a lesser extent, the commercial barge on the Seine of “Tabarro” would have been familiar to audiences when the operas were written at the turn of the last century, but now they seem exotic. How do you recapture the immediacy the original composers and librettists had in mind?

Director Ron Daniels has elected to move the action up slightly in time—both operas now appear to take place sometime in the middle of the last century. Otherwise, however, he seems to be willing to let these grim and violent dramas of despair, betrayal, and passion gone rancid speak for themselves—with dramatically powerful results.

Both operas deal with older men in loveless marriages with younger women who yearn for improbable escape with young lovers.

In “Tabarro” the barge owner Michele and his wife Giorgetta clearly loved each other at some point—they even have a poignant duet in which they recall those earlier days—but the death of their infant son has apparently driven a fatal wedge between them. She now dreams of escaping to the town of her birth with the stevedore Luigi, while Michele nurses a grudge and plots revenge. Michele is just sympathetic enough to make him a quintessentially tragic figure.

Kelly Kaduce as Nedda and
Robert Brubaker as Canio in Pagliacci
Photo: Ken Howard

In “Pagliacci,” on the other hand, Canio (Pagliaccio in the troupe’s show) is a boiling reservoir of rage from his first appearance on stage. When a villager jokingly suggests that the hunchback Tonio might have designs on Canio’s wife Nedda (the troupe’s Columbina), his smile becomes the rictus of Batman’s nemesis The Joker as he declares (in a very free translation of the original) “that’s not funny. .” When Tonio, angered by Nedda’s rejection of his crude attempt at seduction, arranges for Canio to find Nedda in flagrante delicto with her lover, the villager Silvio, the increasing spiral of violence is not so much tragic as grimly inevitable—a slow-motion train wreck.

The cast for this production, three of whom appear in both operas, could hardly be better.

Baritone Tim Mix is utterly credible as the tragic Michele, the black-hearted Tonio, and the mild-mannered Prologue of “Pagliacci,” who delivers the artistic manifesto of the verismo movement. It’s a classic triple-threat performance, beautifully sung. Tenor Robert Brubaker is equally remarkable in the contrasting roles of Luigi and Canio, with a powerful, ringing voice and compelling stage presence. I felt he overplayed Canio’s rage a bit in the famous “Vesti la giubba,” but he perfectly captured the despair of Luigi’s short (but technically challenging) aria in “Tabarro”.

Tenor Matthew DiBattista rounds out the double-cast trio as the stevedore Trinca in “Tabarro” and Beppe/Harlequin in “Pagliacci.” Both are relatively lightweight comic roles and he does well by them.

Soprano Emily Pulley makes an auspicious Opera Theatre debut as Giorgetta, perfectly capturing the character’s longing and conflict with a dark, almost mezzo voice and finely tuned acting. Soprano Kelly Kaduce once again captivated me with her combination of first-rate acting and singing as Nedda/Columbina. I’ve seen her in a wide range of roles over the years and she never has failed to impress.

Bass-baritone Thomas Hammons and mezzo Margaret Gawrysiak provide a moving interlude in “Tabarro” as the stevedore Talpa and his wife Frugola, whose longing for a bucolic escape mirrors that of Giorgetta and Luigi.

Both operas call for a considerable amount of offstage action, which can be a challenge for a space like the Loretto-Hilton center, but Mr. Daniels makes ingenious use of both the wings and the house, with large crowd scenes spilling up the aisles and surrounding the audience. That proves to be especially helpful in “Pagliacci” with its crowd of villagers and children (to say nothing of the silent Greek chorus of clowns added by Mr. Daniels). Even in the more intimate “Tabarro,” though, having the strolling song vendor, organ grinder, and unnamed lovers enter and exit through the house adds to the sense of immediacy.

The scores of both operas are musically rich. Puccini’s is clearly the more impressive and through composed of the two, while Leoncavallo is the more overtly theatrical. Both offer considerable challenges to the players and conductor as well, especially with singers coming in from ”here, there, and everywhere.” In his Opera Theatre debut, Ward Stare—who has done such fine work with the symphony over the years—kept everything humming along beautifully and the orchestra sounded great.

Both operas looked great as well, thanks to set designer Riccardo Hernandez and costume designer Emily Rebholz. “Tabarro” takes place in front of a backdrop showing Michele’s barge. The prow of the boat, the suggestion of the river, and the riverbank are all in black and grey, mirroring the bleak world in which the characters live. Even the titular cloak is black. After intermission, the stage appears to be largely unchanged for the Prologue of “Pagliacci,” but that’s an illusion. As soon as the Prologue ends, the silent chorus of clowns whip dark coverings off the stage, the barge backdrop rises, and suddenly we’re thrust into the gaudy world of the circus where the dominant color is, appropriately, a bloody red and the stage is dominated by a huge image of Pagliaccio on the rear wall.

It’s a smart bit of theatre, as is the entire evening. The musical and dramatic values of this production are all exemplary and I recommend it highly.

Opera Theatre’s compelling double bill of “Il Tabarro” and “I Pagliacci” runs through June 29th in rotating repertory with the rest of the OTSL season. For more information and schedules, experienceopera.org.

TPTBT (The Place to Be Tonight): Saturday, June 1

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Who: Opera Theatre of St. Louis
What: Puccini's Il Tabarro and Leoncavallo's I Pagliacci
Where: The Loretto-Hilton Center
When: Tonight at 8 and running in rotating repertory through June 29
Why:  Jealousy!  Intrigue!  Violence!  Illicit sex!  No, it's not an episode of Jerry Springer, it's just an evening of verismo one-act operas.  The verismo school, as Ron Daniels points out in his program notes, embraced "[s]tories about real, ordinary men and women in the real world."  Except, of course, they sing some truly stirring music.  Besides, while the Parisian stevedores of Tabarro and the provincial touring circus performers of Pagliacci might have been familiar figures when these operas were written in 1918 and 1892, respectively, they are now sufficiently distant from us in time and space to become exotic again.  Whether that means they are still verismo or not is an interesting question, but I won't try to answer it here.

One very notable aspect of this production: it marks the OTSL conducting debut of our the Symphony's Ward Stare, a young conductor who is beginning to make a very big name for himself around the world.

Beer and pretzels

Who: The St. Louis Symphony Orchestra conducted by Ward Stare
What: Music of Brahms, Webern, Johann Strauss Jr., and Richard Strauss
Where: Powell Symphony Hall
When: April 19 and 20, 2013

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As I have noted before, Ward Stare (who completed his tenure as Resident Conductor of the symphony in 2012 and is now in demand as both and operatic and symphonic conductor) is someone to watch.

The clarity of his communication with the orchestra and the intensity of his focus are impressive, as is his very visceral style on the podium. Like David Robertson, he physically throws himself into the music, although never in a showy or distracting way.

All of those characteristics were on display Friday as he conducted the symphony in a wonderfully balanced program of German music spanning the tumultuous period from the late 1860s to the early 1900s. At one end of the time line we had Johann Strauss Jr.’s 1867 “Artist’s Life” waltz, and at the other a suite from that hallucinatory tribute to Vienna, Richard Strauss’s “Rosenkavalier” (1909-1910). In between was a pair of echt Teutonic choral works by Brahms—“Gesang der Parzen (Song of the Fates)” from 1882 and “Schicksalslied (Song of Destiny)” from 1868-1871, bracketing Webern’s lushly romantic “Im Sommerwind (In the Summer Breeze)” from 1904.

It was, in short, a well-chosen mix of drama, romance, and irresistible dance rhythms. There was even, in the Webern, some perky humor (which one does not normally associate with Webern).

In a somewhat unorthodox move, Mr. Stare elected to perform the first three works on the program—“Gesang der Parzen,” “Im Sommerwind,” and “Schicksalslied”—without breaks for applause in between, as though they were three movements of a single piece. That might seem odd, given that nearly forty years separates the oldest work from newest, but in practice it made great emotional sense. Webern wrote “Sommerwind” when he was 21, before being seduced by Serialism, so it looks backward to the romanticism of the mid-19th century, while the Brahms works are rather forward looking in their harmonies. The resulting juxtaposition highlighted their similarities more than their differences.

This was most apparent in the “Schicksalslied.” The serenity of its opening section, with lyrics describing “the paradisiacal existence of the deities” (to quote Paul Schiavo’s program notes), seemed to flow logically from the shimmering, Richard Straussian languor of “Sommerwind”. The parallel is emphasized by the references in the lyrics to “gleaming breezes divine” (“Glänzende Götterlüfte”) and “sacred harp strings” (“Heilige Saiten).” The contrast between the idyllic world of the Webern and the rather medieval fatalism of the reflections on the indifference of the gods in “Gesang der Parzen” (“O Fortuna,” anyone?) was also very effective. As an old radio guy, I suppose I’m a bit of a sucker for the ingenious segue, but I really think this was an exceptionally smart bit of programming on Mr. Stare’s part.

It has been decades since “Schicksalslied” and “Im Sommerwind” were performed at Powell (“Gesang der Parzen” was a symphony premiere) so this music was probably unfamiliar to most of the musicians. You wouldn’t have known that, though, from the quality of the performances. Amy Kaiser’s chorus sounded and robust and polished as usual and the many little solo passages sprinkled throughout the Webern were lovely. Principal Flautist Mark Sparks, Acting Co-Principal oboe Barbara Orland, Principal bassoon Andrew Cuneo, and Associate Concertmaster Heidi Harris all had chances to shine here. I also loved the way Mr. Stare drew out that final, ethereal chord in “Sommerwind” and held the silence for a few seconds.

The second half of the evening, suffused as it was with the spirit of the Viennese waltz, offered a nice contrast to the philosophical weight of the first half. I was reminded that one of the many things Mr. Stare and Mr. Robertson have in common is their willingness to accord “light” music like the “Artist’s Life” waltz the same respect as the more heavy-duty stuff. He gave us a lilting and nuanced performance that felt just right.

The closing suite from Richard Strauss’s romantic comedy/drama “Rosenkavalier” was impressive as well, from the exceptionally dramatic reading of the opening Con molto agitato, graphically depicting the exuberant and perhaps overly fast love-making of the young page Octavian (with those jubilant horn yelps flawlessly played by Roger Kaza and company), to the final “fast waltz” (Schneller Walzer, Molto Con Moto), in which Baron Ochs gets his comeuppance, this was a wonderfully paced and impeccably played performance.

Although scored for a large orchestra, the suite contains many moments of intimacy that provide multiple opportunities for individual players to take center stage. Those included, once again, Mr. Sparks, Mr. Cuneo, and Ms. Harris (who got a big hug from Mr. Stare), as well as Principal clarinet Scott Andrews, the ever-reliable Peter Henderson on celesta, Associate Principal cello Melissa Brooks, Toronto Symphony Principal Trumpet Andrew McCandless, and harpists Megan Stout and Claire Happel. The percussion section deserves a big pat on the back as well.

P.S.: because they are being so echt German, the symphony is providing free beer and pretzels at the concerts, courtesy of Anehuser-Busch and Companion, respectively. I passed on the Bud Light (insert "making love in a canoe" joke here), but the pretzel was tasty.

Next on the calendar: Friday, April 26, at 10:30 AM and 8 PM and Saturday, April 27, at 8 PM, Bernard Labadie conducts an all-Mozart program consisting of the 33rd and 40th symphonies and the Clarinet Concerto with Scott Andrews as soloist. For more information: stlsymphony.org.

TPTBT (The Place to Be Tonight): Friday, April 19

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Ward Stare

Who: The St. Louis Symphony Orchestra and Chorus conducted by Ward Stare
What: Music of Brahms, Webern, Johann Strauss Jr., and Richard Strauss
When: Tonight and Saturday at 8 PM
Where: Powell Symphony Hall
Why: “What can we expect of our brief passages on this earth? Should we—can we?—enjoy pleasure where we find it, or are we destined for sorrow, or at least sorrowful ends? Is there a contradiction between these two possibilities, or are both perhaps true? These would seem weighty questions for an evening devoted to music, yet the five compositions that comprise our concert appear to ask them.”  This is a varied program, to say the least, including two short dramatic works for chorus and orchestra by Brahms, the Artist’s Life waltz by Johann Strauss Jr., a suite from Richard Strauss’s opera Der Rosenkavalier (including some great waltzes), and Anton Webern’s lushly romantic tone poem Im Sommerwind (In the Summer Breeze), which the composer composed at the age of 21, before he was seduced by dodecaphony.  It's a beautiful piece and rarely heard.

Hello yellow brick road

Who: The St. Louis Symphony conducted by Ward Stare
What: Oz With Orchestra
Where: Powell Symphony Hall
When: October 26-28, 2012

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When you think of the music for the 1939 film The Wizard of Oz, the first names that probably come to mind are Harold Arlen and E.Y. “Yip” Harburg. Their songs “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” and “If I Only Had a Brain” have been firmly ensconced in the Great American Songbook for decades.

The real heavy lifting in the soundtrack, however, was done by composer/arranger (and Broadway veteran) Herbert Stothart, who combined Arlen’s tunes with original material (including the famous “Wicked Witch” theme) and even a bit of Mussorgsky’s Night on Bald Mountain into a seamless, Oscar-winning score. Oz With Orchestra, the brainchild of Emmy Award–wining producer John Goberman, combines a remastered version of the film with “entirely new transcriptions” of that award-wining score played by a live orchestra.

As performed by the symphony under Ward Stare, the result was an ear-opening experience that has given me an entirely new level of respect for Stothart’s work. Heard live, the music revealed fascinating orchestral details inaudible in the original soundtrack and demonstrated how skillfully Stothart and his arrangers (George Bassman, Murray Cutter, Ken Darby, Paul Marquardt, and Roger Edens) used Arlen’s melodies as motifs to accompany the action.

Granted, some of those details may have been added as part of those “new transcriptions”, but on the whole this struck me as the aural equivalent of a historically appropriate gut rehab of an older home. Combine that with the beautifully restored Technicolor print of the film—Oz had never looked so vibrant—and you had a night out that any “Oz” fan was sure to love.

Oz With Orchestra was also a reminder of why Ward Stare’s star is on the rise. Conducting a program like this requires a set of skills that are not, I suspect, common in most conservatories. Mr. Stare had to not only keep track of the printed score and his musicians, but also two monitors—one with a timer and one with the film itself. It looked like a multitasking nightmare to me; he deserves a medal of some sort for pulling it off so well.

I think it might also be a challenge to accompany singers whose performances are essentially cast in concrete. Normally singers and conductors can communicate with and adjust to each other. Here it wasstrictly a one-way information flow and, in fact, there were times when the filmed singers weren’t always completely in synch with the live orchestra.

There were also balance issues between the film soundtrack and the orchestra, at least on opening night. Some dialog got lost in the music, as did some lyrics in the big ensemble numbers. Part of the problem might be that the voice tracks for Wizard of Oz still have that tinny 1939 sound, so they don't project as well as newer films. This wasn’t an issue with Lord of the Rings, for example, even though the orchestral forces there were much larger.

The bottom line is that Oz With Orchestra was family fun in every sense. There was even a costume competition one hour prior to each concert, with a prize pack of symphony goodies (including tickets to December’s Pirates of the Caribbean movie night) for the winner.

And by the way: wasn't Ray Bolger just one hell of a fine dancer?  He only gets to demonstrate his terpsichorean skills for a few minutes in the final cut of Oz, but those few minutes are a brilliant demonstration of the dancer's art.  He seems to be so nearly weightless that you can almost believe he really is made of straw.  That's real magic.

Next at Powell Hall: the regular season returns on November 2 and 3 with Yefim Bronfman performing Brahms’s imposing Piano Concerto No. 2. Helsinki Philharmonic Chief Conductor John Storgårds will be on the podium for the concerts, which include Webern’s arrangement of Bach’s Ricercar No. 2 from The Musical Offering and Schumann’s Symphony No. 4. For more information: stlsymphony.org.

Invitations to the dance

Who: Pianist Sarina Zhang and The St. Louis Symphony Orchestra conducted by Ward Stare
What: Music of Dvořák, Saint-Saëns, Gershwin, Bernstein, and Ravel
Where: Powell Symphony Hall, St. Louis
When: May 18, 2012

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Sarina Zhang and friends play the Saint-Saëns Dance Macabre

It was a lively and entertaining evening at Powell Hall last night with a dance-infused program that included three of Dvořák’s popular Slavonic Dances, Gershwin’s Rhapsody in Blue, Bernstein’s still-amazing Symphonic Dances from West Side Story, and an appropriately hallucinatory reading of Ravel’s death knell for the 19th century, La Valse. There was also a performance of the "Bacchanale" from Saint-Saëns’s Samson et Dalila with a highly charged coda.

Pity it was only one night because it drew a large and (as far as I could tell) somewhat younger than usual crowd, at least some of whom apparently weren’t symphony regulars. That’s a good thing; maybe they’ll come back for the 2013 season.

Dvořák’s Slavonic Dances, while popular on classical radio stations and in the record and CD collections of music lovers, aren’t heard all that often in live performances, in my experience. For Friday’s concert Mr. Stare chose a nice trio of them: a lively Serbian kolo (Op. 72, No. 7), a graceful sousedská (Op. 46, No. 4), and a brilliant furiant with an elegiac trio (Op. 46, No. 8). Mr. Stare’s reading was particularly effective at bringing out the lyrical side of these colorful works and reminded me once again of how effectively Dvořák turned these original dance tunes into little symphonic fragments. They’re filled with lovely bits of orchestral detail as well—all brought out nicely by the orchestra players.

There’s not a lot that needs to be said about the colorful “Bacchanale” from Saint-Saëns’s 1876 opera Samson et Dalila, except to note that the composer was a dedicated world traveler who took inspiration from the places he visited. How much of his 1874 trip to Algiers wound up in the lush exoticism of the Act III orgy scene in the Temple of Dagon is hard to say, but it certainly packs a great dramatic punch, especially when the performance is as intense as this one was. From Phil Ross’s polished opening oboe solo to the fierce tympani and horn duel of the finale, this was a winner.

The Gershwin Rhapsody in Blue was, I expect, the big draw for the evening and it didn’t disappoint. Although she’s only fifteen, pianist Sarina Zhang nevertheless had her own unique take on the piece instead of the cookie-cutter approach one might expect from a young prodigy still learning her craft. Her technique was solid—not surprising, given the awards she has already earned as both a pianist and cellist—but so was her grasp of the jazzy inflections that are not fully spelled out. The same was true of Mr. Stare and his players, particularly in the famous opening clarinet and “wah-wah” trumpet solos (Scott Andrews and Tom Drake, respectively).

If your only exposure to the dance music from Bernstein’s West Side Story is via the film or touring productions of the show, you might not be aware of just how brilliantly scored it is. Theatrical pit bands rarely have enough players to do it justice, which may be why the composer created the Symphonic Dances in 1961. It’s a remarkable piece, filled with tricky polyrhythms, dissonance, flashy orchestration (including an expanded percussion battery), and a raft of other touches that remind us of how effectively Bernstein bridged the worlds of concert hall and Broadway theatre.

This is not easy stuff to perform and, in fact, the performance seemed a bit scrappy in places but overall it was really very solid.

The evening concluded with Ravel’s La Valse, a work that began in 1911 as (to quote the composer) “a piece in the style of the earlier Strauss, not Richard” entitled simply Wein (Vienna). Before it could be completed, however, World War I (in which the composer served as a driver) intervened, and by the time La Valse was completed 1919, it had become “an impression of a fantastic whirl of destiny leading to death”. I can’t hear it without envisioning a huge, ornate machine spinning faster and faster until it hurls itself to pieces—as the complex structure of 19th-century Europe did in the so-called “war to end all wars”. Mr. Stare gave us a highly dramatic reading, complete with an appropriately hallucinatory finale.

The last time I saw Mr. Stare conduct a full program with the symphony (December 2nd of last year), I was impressed by the clarity of his communication with the orchestra and the intensity of his focus. This time around I was also struck by his very visceral style on the podium. He got quite an aerobic workout from this program and generated plenty of musical excitement in the process.

The post-season season at Powell Hall continues through June 22nd. Highlights include a James Bond film music program with vocalist Debbie Gravitte and conductor Michael Krazewski on June 2nd, and Classical Mystery Tour: A Tribute to the Beatles on the 22nd. For details on these and other “one of” events, you may visit stlsymphony.org.

Songs for all the seasons of your mind

Osvaldo Golijov

Who: The St. Louis Symphony Orchestra conducted by Ward Stare with violinist Jennifer Koh
What: Music of Schubert, Vivaldi, and Osvaldo Golijov
Where: Powell Symphony Hall, St. Louis
When: December 2 through 4, 2011

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Friday night St. Louis Symphony Resident Conductor Ward Stare had neither score nor baton but lots of panache when he stepped up to the podium to conduct an utterly captivating Schubert “Symphony No 5”. And the best was yet to come: the local premiere of Osvaldo Golijov’s fascinating Sidereus and a wonderfully dramatic approach to Vivaldi’s Four Seasons, with irresistible solo work by Jennifer Koh. It was a night of big music for (mostly) small orchestra.

This was only my second opportunity to see Mr. Stare conduct an entire program on his own and he was, once again, impressive. With or without a baton, his communication with the orchestra was always clear and his concentration obviously intense. I have noted before that Mr. Stare is a conductor whose star is in the ascendant, and his work here did nothing to contradict that assessment.

Mr. Stare’s Schubert was a nice balance of classical discipline and romantic lyricism. Tempi were brisk but never felt rushed. The joy, drama, and sense of unfolding song were all there. The Fifth is a symphony that, while clearly in the Classical style, contains elements (particularly in the Andante con moto and Menuetto) that look forward to the more overtly Romantic sensibilities of later Schubert and his successors. Mr. Stare’s interpretation honored both worlds.

The orchestral playing was at its usual high level, with fine work from everyone — and a particular tip of the topper is due to principal flautist Mark Sparks. If you want to take the true measure of an orchestra, note the quality of the sound when they’re playing chamber music. The Schubert Fifth is essentially a chamber symphony and the musicians gave it the fine playing it demanded.

The second half of the program promised (and delivered) some first-rate Vivaldi, but first there was the local premiere of Osvaldo Golijov’s 2010 mini tone poem, Sidereus. Inspired by the expanded view of the heavens that Galileo experienced with his telescope and described in his 1610 treatise Sidereus Nuncius, the work employs an interesting variety of compositional techniques and canny orchestration (including some wonderful solo and soli passages for the winds) to conjure up a sense of vast, celestial space. The language is clearly modern while still being entirely approachable.

Whenever I hear a new work, I always ask myself whether or not I’d like to hear it again. In this case, not only would I like to hear Sidereus again, I’d very much like to find out what Mr. Golijov’s other compositions sound like. If Sidereus is any indication, he has managed to synthesize academic, theatrical, and popular music elements, especially those of his native Argentina, into a unique personal style. It makes me intensely curious about his larger scale works.

Jennifer Koh

The program concluded with a very theatrical and highly entertaining Four Seasons with Jennifer Koh as the violin soloist. Ms. Koh is a veritable dynamo of a performer, shaking her head and tearing into the fast movements with ferocity and singing the slow ones. Her tone was appropriately dry overall and her ornamentation (those little melodic embellishments that are part of Baroque performance practice) sounded right to my non-expert ears.

She also worked well with the ensemble. Her exchange of birdcalls with Concertmaster David Halen in the first movement of the “Spring” concerto was particularly captivating, calling to mind the way traditional Appalachian fiddlers trade licks. There were also memorable moments with Principal Cellist Daniel Lee and harpsichordist Maryse Carlin.

Ms. Koh and Mr. Stare gave us a Four Seasons filled with dramatic contrasts. The winter ice was brittle (with fittingly chilling harmonics in the strings), the summer storms violent, and the autumnal folk dances jolly. It’s a reminder of how effective Vivaldi was in evoking strong visual images without any of the instrumental technology that contemporary composers can employ. It’s a reminder, as well, of how much room for invention there is in performing this music while staying true to the composer’s intent.

The remainder of December at Powell Hall will be taken up with special holiday events, including A Gospel Christmas with the IN UNISON chorus, a John Williams movie music program, and the annual New Year’s Eve gala. The regular subscription season resumes January 13 and 14, 2012, with Dvořák’s Symphony No. 7, George Crumb’s 1984 A Haunted Landscape, and Strauss’s Four Last Songs with St. Louis’s own Christine Brewer. David Robertson conducts. For more information you may call 314-534-1700, visit stlsymphony.org, like the Saint Louis Symphony Facebook page, or follow @slso on Twitter.

Seconds

Who: The St. Louis Symphony Orchestra with Stephen Hough, piano
What: Tchaikovsky’s Piano Concerto No. 2 and Scriabin’s Symphony No. 2
Where: Powell Symphony Hall, St. Louis
When: April 29 and 30, 2011

It has always seemed to me that one hallmark of a great orchestra is its ability to make a persuasive case not only for the standards of the repertoire but for more obscure works as well. It’s one thing to present a polished performance of Tchaikovsky’s Piano Concerto No. 1 (as the SLSO did last weekend); it’s quite another to deliver an equally exciting reading of the less popular Concerto No. 2 and then follow it up with a compelling Scriabin Symphony No. 2, a work the symphony hasn’t done in over forty years.

Although dwarfed in popularity by its predecessor, Tchaikovsky’s Second is a work with ample charms of its own, starting with a slam-bang opening movement featuring a grandly optimistic first theme, a charmingly contrasting second, and long virtuoso passages for the piano that verge on the excessive. On Friday night, the audience expressed their admiration for soloist Stephen Hough by breaking into spontaneous applause at the end of that movement. I suspect Tchaikovsky would have approved—you can’t generate that much excitement and then expect folks to sit on their hands.

Tchaikovsky also knew what he was about with the following Andante non troppo, which features a lyrical, quasi-operatic duet for violin and cello (beautifully rendered by David Halen and Daniel Lee). Maybe it’s just the romantic in me, but I can’t help but wonder whether the loving interaction of the two instruments wasn’t Tchaikovsky’s way of expressing his affection for his patroness, Nadezhda von Meck, with whom he shared a long, intensely Platonic, and almost entirely epistolary relationship. Perhaps that’s why he was particularly fond of the movement.

Ward Stare

The final Allegro con fuoco wrapped everything up with more virtuoso fireworks, resulting in a well-deserved standing ovation for both Mr. Hough and Resident Conductor Ward Stare.

Mr. Stare is clearly a rising star in the conducting firmament. I had the pleasure of sharing the Powell Hall stage with him for Peter and the Wolf back in 2008 and he struck me then as a precise, no-nonsense but nevertheless good-humored presence on the podium who communicated effectively without undue theatrics. I saw nothing Friday night that would cause me to revise that opinion anywhere but upwards. It’s a shame he’s only doing one subscription program next season, even if it is a fascinating one combining music by Vivaldi, Schubert, and Osvaldo Golijov.

Mr. Stare really took the spotlight in the second half of the program, turning in a tremendously persuasive performance of Alexander Scriabin’s sometimes discursive but always intriguing Symphony No. 2. The work dates from 1902, when Scriabin was still to some extent finding his own way as a composer, but the lush orchestration, restless harmonies, and orgiastic excess that characterize much of his orchestral music were already present. His eccentric personal philosophy and multi-media experiments such as the Poem of Fire (which included a “color organ” of his own design) were still in the future, but it’s easy to hear their genesis in the exotic hothouse atmosphere of this work.

Laid out in either four or five movements (depending on how you count them) the Second is somewhat reminiscent of Beethoven’s “Pastoral” Symphony, complete with elaborate bird calls from the flutes in the second movement, a violent thunderstorm in the third, and a blazing finale that brings back the sun in all its pantheistic glory. Scriabin’s countryside sounds considerably more exotic and erotic than Beethoven’s—this is the man who would write The Poem of Ecstasy a few years later, after all—but it’s hard not to hear some parallels.

Top-notch orchestras and conductors make the familiar seem new and the unfamiliar sound like something they’ve been doing all their lives. This weekend’s concerts clearly place both the St. Louis Symphony and Ward Stare in that category. It’s a pity that a larger crowd didn’t turn out to hear them. Work of this quality deserves a wider audience.

No doubt that wider audience will turn out for the final concerts of the season May 5 through 8, when David Robertson will conduct the orchestra and chorus in Orff’s ever-popular Carmina Burana, along with the world premiere of Christopher Rouse’s Symphony No. 3. For more information, you can call 314-534-1700, visit slso.org, or follow @slso on Twitter.