November 27,
2015
Bach, Air on the
G String
Haydn, Symphony
No. 30 ‘Alleluja’
Bartók, Piano
Concerto No. 2
Tchaikovsky,
Symphony No. 1 ‘Winter Daydreams’
Andris Nelsons,
Boston Symphony Orchestra
Yefim Bronfman,
piano
Symphony Hall,
Boston
An outstanding
first exposure to many of these works and Boston’s marvelous Symphony Hall! I
got seats in the very last back row of the second balcony, almost flush against
the wall. Priced at $74, I thought this was rather expensive, but the agent on
the phone claimed it had the best sound in the hall, and the sound was pretty
damn good.
The program only
had the Haydn, Bartók, and Tchaikovsky written on it, but in memory of recently
deceased former BSO concertmaster Joseph Silverstein, Bach’s Air on the G
String had been added to the program for this weekend’s series of concerts. Played
by a small fraction of the entire orchestra, this lilting tune from the Baroque
master was wonderfully played, a rare treat to hear in a modern concert hall.
My familiarity of the piece is very limited (I think I only heard it once
before at a concert at St Martin-in-the-Fields two years ago), but I enjoyed
hearing it and will definitely seek out a recording for my digital collection
later.
The next work,
Haydn’s 30th Symphony, is also a very rarely programmed piece. BSO’s
program notes proclaimed that it had not been performed by the BSO since 1977
under the baton of Seiji Ozawa, almost thirty years ago. The subtitle of the
work comes from the first movement’s borrowing of a melody from a Gregorian
chant (namely, Alleluja), and this reference is quite prominent in the first
movement (although I had never heard this work or the Gregorian chant before).
As the program notes went on to explain, music of this time (1765, namely) was
not traditionally praised for originality or expressivity, but Haydn, with his
imaginative and creative spirit, managed to keep his patrons pleased and keep a
steady job under the patronage system while also creating enduring and original
musical works. At a fairly short fourteen minutes, the symphony does not have
especially memorable motifs, but adheres dutifully to the standards of the
Classical era and serves as decent background music. Despite a good
performance, I won’t be hunting for recordings of this one.
The piano
concerto that followed was the only piece on the program which I had heard
before recently. I had seen this very same piano concerto, Bartók’s 2nd,
performed by Yuja Wang and the San Francisco Symphony in San Francisco in
August, just a few months ago. At the time, I had been (naturally) impressed
with Wang’s playing but found the music to be tough, almost impenetrable
because of its complexity, not helped by the fact that that had been my first
proper exposure to Bartók. Now, having been to a live performance of Bartók’s 2nd
violin concerto with Gil Shaham and the Philadelphia Orchestra (which was
magnificent, by the way, see my review on that) as well as a performance of his
viola concerto with the NYU Symphony (which I didn’t enjoy quite as much), I
understood the composer a little better and had learnt to see the beauty under
the hammering rhythms and dense orchestration. Yefim Bronfman proved to be a
masterful pianist, accentuating dynamic contrasts quite splendidly. BSO’s skilled
timpanist lived up to his part, accompanying the piano quite well and with the
proper intensity required of the part. And of course, the brass (and woodwinds,
I guess) were on point in the first movement, a crucial section where the
strings are curiously tacet.
After a
spectacular first movement, the second movement began with muted strings
playing dreamy chords reminiscent of Ives’s The
Unanswered Question. The piano came in with its Bartók-esque quirky melody,
the presto section came and went quickly as the strings returned to close the
movement.
The third
movement was quite impressive, as Andris Nelsons coaxed the entire orchestra
into a furious frenzy of musical chaos. At the final note, the audience was
instantaneous in voicing their appreciation, and Bronfman made several
re-entrances onto the stage for multiple bows before sitting down to play an
encore, a rather simple piece, likely by Chopin. Although I didn’t recognize
the exact work, it sounded like a Chopin waltz, but it was, quite frankly, underwhelming after
hearing Bartók’s fierce piano concerto. A more virtuosic show of talent may
have been a better crowd-pleaser.
After a
twenty-minute intermission where I splurged on some delightful napkins with
musical notes inscribed on them from the Symphony Store, I settled back in my
seat for the first time I would hear Tchaikovsky First Symphony. I am quite
familiar with his Fourth, Fifth, and Sixth Symphonies, and have listened to
multiple recordings of all of them, but outside of those works I do not know
Tchaikovsky very well. I was not at all disappointed or unimpressed with the
First Symphony. Subtitled Winter
Daydreams, I expected to hear some Russian folk song depicting a pastoral
scene, but these pre-associations left my mind as I let Tchaikovsky’s trademark
lyricism spill out of the BSOs luscious string section’s playing.
All four
movements were terrific, with just the right amount of rubato and some
judicious tempi from Maestro Nelsons. I looked back in the middle of one of the
inner movements and quite nearly leapt out of my seat when I saw Seiji Ozawa
standing almost directly behind me, watching from the walkway behind the very
last row of seats (the row I was sitting in). I was too dumbfounded to fumble
for a pen and ask for his autograph, but it was mid-performance so I didn’t
want to make a scene anyway. He looked on for a few seconds, impassive, and
walked away. Anyway, back to the concert. After three movements of tacet
trombones (this may have been the only thing I didn’t like), Toby Oft led his
section beautifully in the finale. The work closed in a glorious and exuberant
splendor not unlike the end of Tchaikovsky’s Fourth Symphony, and I was
instantly on my feet applauding away. Thinking back to a discussion I had
online with other classical music nerds about how a conductor could make or
break a piece of music for a first-time listener of the work, I concluded that
Nelsons had done his job correctly with this piece: made a convincing enough
interpretation to make me a new fan of Tchaikovsky’s First.