A Welcome Return

Maestro Jun Märkl’s now annual concert with the Vancouver Symphony Orchestra has become the highlight of my concert season in the city. On Saturday, the charming and energetic Märkl once again worked his magic and gave us a not-to-be-forgotten performance of works from the French orchestral repertoire.

Members of the orchestra, reduced to chamber music proportions, gave a sensitive reading of Pierre Boulez’s Memoriale…(…explosante-fixe…originel), with acting principal flute Chris James setting the tone with his evocative playing. The version played at the concert was part of a much larger work by the composer. Märkl and the musicians gave a performance that not so much exploited the resources of each instrument, but formed a collage of sound colours. Such a performance of a piece such as Boulez’s confirmed in my mind that dissonances – itself a relative term – can indeed be beautiful, albeit it perhaps a different kind of beauty.

The orchestra returned and Märkl led them through a beautifully balanced, impeccably paced performance of Maurice Ravel’s Pavane pour une infant defunte. Märkl brought out the beauty of Ravel’s orchestral colours in the strings, the French horn and the woodwinds. There was a souplesse, a subtlety in the sound of the orchestra, as well as a depth, or a sense of layers, in the sound of the strings. The performance of this intimate masterpiece had a glow in the sound, from first note to last. 

Cellist István Várdai joined Märkl and the orchestra in a dashing performance of Saint-Saëns’ Cello Concerto No. 1 in A minor, Op. 33. From his first entrance, Várdai captured my ears with his arresting sound and depth of tone. His playing of the lyrical transition to the second movement was not only beautiful, but also charged with meaning. In the second movement, Várdai played with an intimate, confiding tone that left the audience breathless, and in the third movement, soloist, conductor and orchestra squeezed out every ounce of this music’s Gallic charm. In his recording with pianist Ingrid Fliter (Chopin concerti) as well as last year’s performance with Yefim Bronfman (Brahms’ second piano concerto), Märkl proved himself not only a sensitive accompanist but also a gallant collaborator in concerti performances. He managed to direct our attention to the soloist, but he also lavished great attention to every detail in the score, and brought out every detail of Saint-Säens brilliant orchestration.

I was of course eagerly anticipating Märkl and the orchestra’s reading of Hector Berlioz’s revolutionary masterwork, Symphonie fantastique, Op. 14 – and Saturday’s performance confirmed in my mind that, indeed, after almost two hundred years, this music still sounds revolutionary on so many different levels.

The beauty of the playing conjured by Märkl captured my attention right from the opening triplets in the woodwinds. At measure 6, there was a stunningly beautifully-shaped two-note slur by the strings before the fermata – a small detail perhaps, but the devil, as they say, is in the detail. At measure 13, Märkl already made me aware of the many layers of sound colours in the score. At rehearsal 2, the strings played with a radiant beauty of tone. Obviously the conductor had thought carefully about voicing, and this showed even in the brief two measures before rehearsal 4. The first brief climax at rehearsal was paced such that this arrival had a real sense of occasion, of arrival, and of a sense of inevitability in the music. Roger Cole shone with his gorgeous playing of the brief oboe solo at rehearsal 16. In the movement’s coda, the delicate line for first violins was filled with an ardent feeling, and give feeling that the music was hanging by a thread. There was a true feeling of reverence (Berlioz’s marking at measure 513 was “Religiosamente”) in the beautifully voiced ending to the movement. In short, I have rarely heard this first movement played with such a sense of indescribable, hopeless yearning. 

Märkl evoked a magical atmosphere in the beginning of Un bal. The conductor really captured the feel of the waltz rhythms in this movement, and the orchestra’s playing here can be described, in every sense of the word, as suave. The appearance of the Idée fixe at measure 120 gave the feeling of an apparition, and the build-up to the ending of the movement literally took my breath away.

Again, the conductor immediately set the mood of the Scène aux champs, with the oboe and English horn echoing each other. There was such a hushed quality in the music, such a mood of emptiness, stillness, and perhaps desolation (I’m not sure if Märkl intended this) that reminded me of the opening of the third act of Wagner’s Tristan und Isolde. At measure 46, the orchestra played with an incredible elasticity in sound as well as with a velvety, rich tone. And at rehearsal 41, the celli and basses played with an indelible power and depth of sound. The violins played with a true pianississimo at rehearsal 43, providing a fabric of sound for the clarinet solo above the texture. The distant thunder at the end of the movement was truly vivid, and had almost a cinematic quality to it. 

In the dramatic opening to the fourth movement (Marche au supplice) the sound evoked by conductor and orchestra had a palpable eeriness and a feeling of malevolence. In this as well as the fifth movement, members of the orchestra played with inspiration and with a rousing virtuosity that wanted to make one stand up and cheer.  I would like to especially highlight the breathtaking and breath-stopping playing of the bassoonist Julia Lockhart in her extended solo at measure 50. The playing of this march had a real sense of direction, of forward motion, and the musicians gave us the feeling of witnessing an awesome spectacle. I loved Märkl’s dramatic pacing of the lead up to the great climax at measure 123. 

Märkl brought out the feeling of evil and decay in the opening of the Songe d’une nuit du sabbat. Even with this familiar music, Saturday’s performance conveyed an element of surprise in the many orchestral effects, as well as the inherent weirdness of the music, especially in the “corrupted” version of the Idée fixe at measure 46. As in the fourth movement, there was a palpable sense of inevitability in the forward motion of the music until the bright sound of the final chord.

There was a story about conductor Arthur Nikish arriving for a rehearsal of Tchaikovsky’s fifth symphony to a group of tired, sullen musicians. Within a few minutes, Nikish whipped the musicians into such a frenzy of excitement that they were playing like fiends! Indeed, a major aspect of the art of conducting is psychological. On Saturday, it was obvious that every member of the ensemble wanted to be there, and wanted to play well. On top of his obviously impeccable musicianship, I believe Märkl has this great indescribable gift of inspiring his fellow musicians to give their utmost. The smiles on the musicians’ faces were a welcomed sight. Once again, the concert confirmed my impression, formed after his first appearance in Vancouver, that this is a great conductor and musician.

So, once again, welcome back to Vancouver, Maestro Jun Märkl. We hope to have you back every season, and more!

Patrick May

Zubin Mehta and Mahler's "Resurrrection"

Conductor Zubin Mehta returned to “his” orchestra in Los Angeles for a series of concerts to begin the New Year. In the 1960’s and 1970’s, the names “Zubin Mehta and the Los Angeles Philharmonic” were synonymous, and it was this musical marriage that put the orchestra on the musical map, dispelling the idea of the “big five” American orchestras worthy of mention. Since then, the orchestra had had a number of fine music directors, and Mehta had also been at the helm of many orchestras and opera companies. Even so, there is something special when the conductor returns to make music with the orchestra of the city that he still considers one of his homes.

I was fortunate to have been in Los Angeles this past weekend, and was therefore in the orchestra’s beautiful home of the Walt Disney Concert Hall for Mehta’s stunning reading of Mahler’s Symphony No. 2 in C minor, more commonly known as “Resurrection”. The performing forces for this massive work also included soprano Chen Reiss, mezzo-soprano Mihoko Fujimura, as well as the Los Angeles Master Chorale (under the expert direction of Grant Gershon).

Mehta has always been a champion of this work, and his early recording of it with the Vienna Philharmonic is still in the catalogue, a remarkable achievement given the number of recordings available. Since then, his interpretation has matured, and Friday night’s performance positively glowed with a beautiful burnished quality in the sound of the orchestra. Indeed the hallmark of any performance by Zubin Mehta is the beauty of the sound he elicits from whichever orchestra he is leading.

I wasn’t quite prepared for the energy with which Mehta and the orchestra tore into the opening of the first movement. Mehta effectively observed Mahler’s accelerando marking for the C minor scale at m. 4, giving the music a real sense of direction and drive. The Los Angeles cellists and double bassists played with the requisite thickness and pesante quality the music calls for. The violins played the rising motif at rehearsal 3 with great warmth and tenderness, giving real contrast and a sudden shift of mood from the storminess of the opening. Mehta conjured up a truly awesome apocalyptic vision at the orchestra outburst at rehearsal 15 (schnell), and the brief passage of triplet figures at rehearsal 20 (Molto pesante) was played with an incredible sense of urgency. The descending scale that ends the movement (rehearsal 27), with its lengthened silence (Mahler indicated a ritenuto marking over the rests – before the two final C’s), left the audience truly breathless. 

In this opening movement, Mehta highlighted for me, perhaps for the first time, the startling "weirdness" inherent in Mahler's orchestral writing.

The Ländler that makes up the second movement betrayed Mehta’s Viennese upbringing, and the music overflowed with warmth and abundant emotion. The musicians certainly rose to Mahler’s indication of Sehr germächlich. Conductor and musicians played the music with an overwhelming sense of flow, making the music sound like it was drawn from a single breath from beginning to end. Even the dramatic outburst at rehearsal 6 (Energisch bewegt) could not dispel the overall mood. The quiet transition back to the Ländler at rehearsal 12 was simply magical, and the arrival of the beautiful legato theme by the violins had a real feeling of inevitability to it. Mehta’s timing of the ending of the movement was done to perfection. 

Mahler took us out of our brief reverie with two arresting notes by the timpani, launching us into the Scherzo. Mehta expertly guided the musicians through the many shifting moods of this movement, inviting rather than commanding the orchestra as they traverse the musical landscape. This movement, more than others, is a real showcase for the solo wind and brass players, and the virtuosi of the Los Angeles Philharmonic rose to Mahler’s challenge with aplomb and with flair.

Mezzo-soprano Mihoko Fujimura sang the otherworldly “Urlicht” with great depth of feeling, Mehta and the orchestra supported her with a beautiful cushion of sound. The feeling and mood conjured by Fujimura were matched by the orchestra’s horns and trumpets. Here, Mehta conjured up not just beauty but an incredible depth in the sound, giving the music a truly innigkeit quality.

I remember one critic writing of Mehta’s recording of Mahler’s 3^rd symphony, that he really had a special way with Mahler finales. This was evident in how conductor and orchestra played this vast movement with a sense of inevitability and of organic unity. The incredible opening of the movement was not merely dramatic, but awe-inspiring, as if the heavens were really opening. In the grosse Appell section, the music took on a very spacious quality, and Mehta and the orchestra painted a bleak sonic landscape. The brief flute solo was hauntingly played.

Is there any symphonic work that rouses our emotions like the finale of this work? Mehta gauged the many levels of sound carefully, and expertly built the music to its emotional peak. Unlike so many “star” conductors, he did not try to pack a punch and knock us out with maximum volume, but always kept the beauty of both the instrumental and vocal sounds. No matter how shattering the climaxes were – and there were many – there was always the feeling of something in reserve.  The result was a performance that did not seek to “impress”, but rather served as an invitation for everyone to share in communion with both the beauty of the music and the emotion it conveys. 

Friday’s night performance was one where all the elements came together. Perhaps because of Mehta’s preeminence, particular in Los Angeles, it felt that every single member of the orchestra and chorus wanted to give their all. I felt extremely privileged to have experienced this stupendous musical experience. Mr. Mehta seemed to have been much more physically robust than I have seen him in a long time. All we could wish for is many more years of good health, so that he could give us many more memorable performances like the one we witnessed. 

Patrick May

A Glorious "Messiah"

Early Music Vancouver’s presentation of Handel’s Messiah was probably the most overwhelmingly spiritual, emotional, and musical experience in all my years of encountering this familiar work. Last Saturday, details I had never heard leapt out from the score under the imaginative and inspiring direction of conductor Ivars Taurins. The Pacific Baroque Orchestra joined forces with the Vancouver Cantata Singers (sounding great under their director Paula Kremer) and four outstanding soloists who delivered a truly indelible and moving musical experience.

The opening Sinfony was played with great energy and a wonderful sense of occasion. When the A section was repeated, rather than merely playing it softer, as is the usual custom, Taurins varied the dynamics and colours a great deal more in the repeat.

I have rarely heard a performance where there was such a merging of the words being sung and the orchestral colours. In “Comfort ye”, tenor Thomas Hobbs mellifluous voice was resting on a sort of cushion of string sound. I liked the conductor’s tempo choice in the aria, “O thou that tellest good tidings to Zion”, giving the music a wonderful sense of movement. In the brief prestissimo introduction and the accompaniment to “For he is like a refiner’s fire”, conductor and string players conjured up with those rapid 16^th-notes an effect like flickering flame. In the recitativo accompagnato and aria that follows, the string colours and the way the musicians played those two-note slurs matched perfectly bass Peter Harvey deeply-felt singing of “For behold, darkness shall cover the earth” and “The people that walked in darkness have seen a great light”. 

In the aria, “He shall feed his flock like a shepherd”, the tempo set by Taurins and the way the strings were coloured created a real sense of repose. As well, the brief postlude was truly beautifully played, and echoed the emotions of the words just being sung. In the aria, “He was despised”, the strings played the descending figures with a sense of real sorrow and vulnerability, matching perfectly the strikingly poignant singing of alto Krisztina Szabó. For me, the feeling of the aria was even more deeply felt in the repeat of the A section. There was an incredibly hushed quality in the music at the words, “A man of sorrows and acquainted with grief”. With the words “He gave his back to the smiters”, the attack of the dotted-rhythmic figures made a sound like hitting, evoking the image of Christ’s scourging. Then in the introduction to the bass aria, “Why do the nations so furiously rage together”, Taurins whipped up a real sense of urgency in the orchestral playing. 

The solo voices were uniformly excellent. Joanne Lunn’s singing of the recitatives conveyed a sense of wonder that I found incredibly moving: 

And lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them… / And the angel said unto them: Fear not, for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy… / And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host.

Her singing of the aria, “Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion” was exhilarating in its lightness as well as its sense of musical pulse. Lunn’s singing of the aria’s many melisma passages was breathtaking. In the aria, “How beautiful are the feet of them that preach the gospel of peace”, Lunn handsomely handled the subtle shift from G minor to B-flat major in the opening phrases. Kirsztina Szabó’s singing of “He shall feed His flock like a shepherd” truly brought across the overwhelming compassion of the words. Tenor Thomas Hobbs has an acute sense of the timing of the music. In the brief recitative, “He that dwelleth in heaven shall laugh them to scorn; the Lord shall have them in derision”, he delivered the lines with an incredible sense of urgency. Peter Harvey sang the aria, “Why do the nations so furiously rage together” with wonderful energy and a resounding virtuosity. In “The people that walked in darkness have seen a great light”, he sang this great bass aria with real drama, making use of the brief eighth-note rests (for instance, at four measures after B) to great effect. Yet, in the recitative, “Behold I tell you a mystery” was sung with a confiding tone. 

The players of the Pacific Baroque Orchestra played with their usual high standard. In “The trumpets shall sound”, solo trumpet Alexis Basque shone with his beautiful shaping of phrases as well as its musicality. Having the two trumpets playing from the side of the choral loft during “Glory to God” was an inspired idea - Handel’s instructions are for the trumpeters to play “from a distance and rather softly.”

Last month’s Remembrance Day concert confirmed the Vancouver Cantata Singers’ status as one of the city’s finest choral groups. In that concert as well as for this past weekend’s Messiah performance, the group sang with their usual musicality, but also with intelligence and imagination. The singers responded to the lively tempo in “And the glory the glory of the Lord” and sang with amazing lightness and agility. In “And He shall purify” and in “All we like sheep”, the melismata were sung with a silken smoothness. In “And He shall purify”, there was a purity of sound and a lightness of texture.  There was a genuine feeling of exhilaration in “For unto us a Child is born”. The chorus “Surely, surely He hath borne our griefs and carried our sorrows” was delivered with great energy and power. In “And with His stripes we are healed” the choir sang the music with varied, almost instrument-like, articulation, and a wonderful flexibility. There was an appropriately mocking quality and a suitable disjointedness in the vocal line, in their singing of “He trusted in God that He would deliver Him”. This disjointed quality of the vocal line also worked to wonderfully dramatic effect in “Let us break their bonds asunder”.  

The justly famous “Hallelujah” chorus was sung with a real sense of occasion, and certainly with the requisite majesty and grandeur. The varied dynamics in the phrase, “King of Kings, and Lord of Lords” added to the drama of the music. The choir sang the opening of “Since by man came death” (Grave) with beautiful blending, an organic wholeness, and gorgeous tone quality. I loved the slight decrescendo at the ending (Adagio) of “But thanks be to God, who giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ”. The singers acquitted themselves admirably in the very exposed opening of “Blessings and honour, glory and pow’r be unto Him”. The great “Amen” was sung with great depth of feeling, giving this already memorable evening a real sense of communion.

I believe it is no exaggeration to say that we live in a post-Christian age. That said, the fact that people flock year after year to performances of Handel’s Messiah tells me that we, all of us, no matter what we profess to believe (or not), are in search of something beyond our everyday existence, something transcendent. For me, this performance of Handel’s masterwork had truly brought these divinely inspired work alive. 

Wishing everyone a joyous Christmas and a new year that will bring a return to peace for so many parts of the world.

                                                                                                            Patrick May

Kevin Kenner

Pianist Kevin Kenner made his second Vancouver recital appearance yesterday, playing a musically satisfying performance that represented the highest level of music making.

The concert began with Haydn’s Sonata No. 48 in C major, Hob XVI:48, an unusual two-movement work that highlights Haydn’s healthy sense of humour. The first movement, Andante con espressione, is filled with pregnant pauses, and a mock sense of profundity. Like a master comic, Kenner understood perfectly the sense of timing and humour. He made the most of the whimsical nature of the music, and indeed played the movement “con espressione”. The second movement, a breathless presto, gave us a different picture of the composer’s unbuttoned humour. The artist’s rendition of this movement showcased the rollicking humour inherent in so much of the composer’s music.

Robert Schumann’s Davidbündlertänze, Op. 6 contrasts the composer’s most profound utterances with movements that are rather more mischievous and rambunctious. Kenner brought out the duo nature of the composer’s personality, and suffused the more introverted movements with an inner beauty and glow. As well, the extroverted movements were filled with a kind of a childlike, gentle humour. Indeed, the humour inherent in this work is more along the lines of a gentle chuckle, rather than that of a hearty laugh.

It is easy to forget that Chopin lived a happy and untroubled childhood, and much of (especially) his early works are filled with good cheer, and far from gloomy. Kenner’s played the set of early Mazurkas like an improvisation, adding some of his own extemporizations to connect the different dances. This is completely along the lines of the “performance practice” of early 20^thcentury pianists, perhaps out of fashion today with our obsession with textual fidelity, but a totally valid view of looking at the music.

Of Chopin’s four Scherzi, the Scherzo No. 4 in E major (Op. 54) is the only one that comes close to the idea of a “joke”. For me, this is the most technically – not to mention musically – challenging scherzo of the four. Playing it is a real high-wire act. Kenner negotiated the treacherous path of this late great work with a tremendous sense of ease and elegance, but he also struck the balance between spontaneity and a carefully thought out conception of the music. The playing here also had a great sense of beguiling lightness. The simplicity and directness of Kenner's playing of this work reminded me of Mr. Rubinstein, and it was a performance that had me sitting at the edge of my seat.

What a great sense of the art of programming to conclude the concert with a selection of works by Paderewski! It was a good reminder that other than being one of the original celebrity pianists, Paderewski was and is a skillful composer with a voice of his own. The pianist played these neo-classical - or neo-romantic - works (they remind me of compositions by Fritz Kreisler which the composer passed off as works by obscure Baroque composers) with a great deal of flair and panache. Even the oh-so-popular (not so much today as it was many decades) Menuetsounded fresh under his hands. Kenner concluded his performance with an intimate, limpid, and sensitive performance of Paderewski’s Nocturne in B-flat major.  

It was very fortunate for Vancouver audiences to have heard, within the space of a couple of weeks, two great recitals by two highly original, albeit very different, artists. It was sad for me to observe the many empty seats in the hall yesterday – audiences today seem to only want to flock to performances by “star” performers, even ones who sometimes have dubious artistic integrity or musical maturity. With the large number of young people in the city studying music, it is my hope that their teachers would encourage them to devote their time not just to practicing, but to come out and hear live performances of great music, and to immerse themselves in this enormous ocean of music culture.

Patrick May

An Astonishing Debut

Lightning struck the audience at the Vancouver Playhouse yesterday afternoon when pianist Zlata Chochieva played her debut recital for The Vancouver Chopin Society.

At risk of merely writing a string of superlatives, her playing of Chopin’s Etudes Op. 25 stands comparison with that of Alfred Cortot in inspiration. Technically and pianistically, the finish of her playing stands on a class of its own. 

After a beautifully euphonious performance of the Etude in A-flat (No. 1), Chochieva took my breath away with the nimbleness and agility in her playing of the Etude in F minor (No. 2). Her sparing use of pedal (indicated by Chopin) gave the music a rarely heard clarity and crispness. After technically impregnable playing in the Etude in F major (No. 3) and Etude in A minor (No. 4), Chochieva truly brought out the scherzando quality in the Etude in E minor, and her playing of the E major middle section was absolutely ravishing, and beautifully shaded. 

Another highlight of the afternoon was her miraculous playing of the Etude in G-sharp minor (No. 6), with playing of thirds that sounded more like splashes of colours, and an effortlessness that gave the music a rarely heard mischievous quality. Moreover, she made us aware of the beauty of Chopin’s writing for the left hand. The pianist’s playing of the Etude in C-sharp minor (No. 7) was deeply felt, with a left hand that truly sounded like a cello. There was an engaging lightness in her playing of the Etude in D-flat major (No. 8) and G-flat major (No. 9). The octaves at the beginning of the Etude in B minor were truly thunderous and fiery, and her playing of the octave melody in the middle section gave the music a real sense of melancholy. She was in control of every note in her playing of the Etude in A minor (No. 10), a work that strikes fear into the heart of less intrepid pianists. A rousing and rich-toned performance of the Etude in C minor (No. 12) ended the first half of the recital on a real high note, and left us already wishing for more.

Rachmaninov is a composer that is obviously close to Zlata Chochieva’s heart, and it really showed in her performance of the composer’s music in the second half. The works that she chose revealed the many facets of the composer’s own musical influences. The Bach-Rachmaninov Violin Suite is actually a transcription of the Prelude, Gavotte and Giga of the Violin Partita in E major, BWV 1006. Chochieva’s playing brought out the joyful spirit of this music, the relentless feeling of chase in the Prelude, a real sense of bounce in the Gavotte, and an almost reckless abandon in the Giga. Rachmaninov’s transcription gives this originally sparse music a fuller harmonic palette, something that Chochieva exploited - in the best sense of the word - to the fullest. Her playing of Rachmaninov/Bizet’s Minuet from the “L’Arlésienne” Suite gave the music its requisite sweetness and Gallic charm. 

Rachmaninov’s transcription of the Scherzo from Mendelssohn’s “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” is one of the most incredible pianistic “stunts” ever conceived by any composer. Chochieva’s playing of this work matched the original orchestral version in the colours she conjured from the keyboard. Most incredibly – and this is true throughout the afternoon – the word “technique”, or the thought of how “well” she was playing the piano – was far from my mind, so thoroughly compelling her music-making was. I had long admired rather than loved Rachmaninov’s Variations on a theme by Corelli, Op. 42, until yesterday afternoon. I believe this is a work that needed the hands of a truly great pianist to bring off, and Chochieva was that pianist yesterday. Pianist Glenn Gould expressed Rachmaninov’s skills in writing in variation form, and had actually considered performing the composer’s Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini - it is tantalizing to think how such a performance would have come off. Indeed, in this set of Corelli variations, one hears similarities in the piano writing to the celebrated Paganini variations. In the twenty or so minutes of the work, the composer thoroughly exploited every aspect of the theme by Corelli. And yesterday, Chochieva herself exploited every aspect, every colour and shading that the composer had written. It was without question an electrifying performance of this rarely heard work. 

I am certain that the audience would have willingly stayed for many encores after such a performance. Chochieva gave us a deliciously played Etude in G-flat major (Op. 10, No. 5) by Chopin, the so-called “Black key” Etude.

What a way it was to begin a concert season. This is one of the most thoroughly technically perfect, and musically insightful performances, from a musician of any age, I have heard in a long time. Chochieva is already a master artist, and we look forward to hearing much more from her in future, and we hope that her first visit to Vancouver will not be her last.

Patrick May

Two Views of Daniil Trifonov

I had been greatly anticipating Daniil Trifonov’s concerto debut with the Vancouver Symphony Orchestra in Rachmaninov’s Piano Concerto No. 3 in D minor, Op. 30. I had just a couple of weeks earlier heard the pianist gave a ravishing and searing account of the composer’s 4^th piano concerto with the Seattle Symphony, and had been looking forward to hearing Trifonov’s interpretation of the “Rach 3”.

It pains me to write that Trifonov’s performance with the Vancouver Symphony was a bitter disappointment for me – in fact, it took me this many weeks before I am able to put these brief thoughts to “paper”. From the outset of the performance, the haunting melody for the piano simply could not be heard. I could not blame it on where I was seating, as I had a seat in one of the relatively better acoustical area of the Orpheum. In fact, most of what Trifonov was doing could not be heard above the orchestra. Moreover, there was no semblance of collaboration between soloist and conductor, and music director Otto Tausk appeared to be simply trying to keep up with the pianist. In addition, there seemed to have been a lack of energy or passion, or a sense of direction, in Trifonov’s playing that evening. Even the many climatic moments of the work left me feeling underwhelmed.

Speaking of the Orpheum’s acoustics, I got chatting with a couple that sat beside me, who said they had just moved to Vancouver from London (England). At the conclusion of the concerto, the gentleman turned to me and said, “You really need a new concert hall in this city.”

Because of my disappointment at Trifonov’s Vancouver performance, I had been reluctant to put on his new recording of the same concerto with the Philadelphia Orchestra and Yannick Nézet-Séguin. I eventually did, and heard a stunning performance of the work. It was only in hearing Trifonov’s recording that I think I understood what he was trying to do in Vancouver. It seems to me that the pianist was not just another soloist out to impress, but was trying to weave the piano part of the concerto within the orchestral fabric in order to produce an organic whole. At all times, Trifonov took pains to bring out the intensely lyrical and spiritual qualities inherent in the music. It came off in the performance with the Philadelphians, but certainly not in Vancouver. Thrilling as the Philadelphia performance is, I found Trifonov’s performance of this concerto with Nézet-Séguin much more than a thrill ride, but an intensely moving musical experience. It was also a treat to behold the playing of the Philadelphia Orchestra under Nézet-Séguin, which seems to be once again playing with the lushness and beauty of sound (without sacrificing clarity of texture) as it did under Stokowski and Ormandy. I was reminded of Rachmaninov’s own statement that he used to compose with the sound of this orchestra in his mind.

I certainly hope Trifonov would grace Vancouver with his presence once again, perhaps in a performance by himself, as he did on several previous occasions. Perhaps he would feel more inspired to give us a performance that does full justice to his tremendous talent and artistry.

A New Beginning

The Seattle Symphony opened its new season this past Saturday under its new music director, Thomas Dausgaard. When Ludovic Morlot announced his departure from the orchestra, the organization settled on a relatively safe choice in Dausgaard, who was already known to the musicians and the city as Principal Guest Conductor.

Saturday’s concert seemed to vindicate that choice, as the chemistry between conductor and orchestra was readily apparent.

Dausgaard looked to his Danish roots, and opened the concert with Carl Nielsen’s Overture to Maskarade. The musicians responded well to Dausgaard’s direction and played this uplifting music with great verve as well as a bright, open sound.

The choice of engaging pianist Daniil Trifonov was probably the guarantee for a full house for the performance. The soloist’s vehicle was Rachmaninov’s rarely played Piano Concerto No. 4 in G minor, Op. 40. If anyone could be a champion of this “orphan” of a work of the composer, it would be Trifonov. The artist gave a barnstorming reading of the concerto, identifying totally with the Rachmaninov idiom as well as the brooding, dark colours of the music. He played the outer movements with a real sense of the propulsive quality of the score. In the second movement, he gave the music a feeling of eerie stillness, yet keeping its forward momentum. Unlike some of today’s “star” pianists, Trifonov really does live up to his reputation. His effortless pianism as well as, even by today’s standards, stratospheric technique are truly astounding. 

By the time Rachmaninov wrote this concerto, he had been living outside of Russia for some time. He had been exposed to musical influences such as Jazz – he especially admired the piano playing of Art Tatum - and film music. This work (and this is by no means a criticism) betrays an eclectic mixture of styles, even though it still retains Rachmaninov’s unique harmonic colours and brooding melancholy. Trifonov navigated the shifting moods of the work very successfully, and infused the concerto with a sense of coherence and organic unity.

I was looking forward to the orchestra’s performance of Richard Strauss’ Also sprach Zarathustra, as it had been a long time since I heard the composer’s youthful tone poem. The famous opening section was well played, and filled with tension, although I did feel that the trumpets could have sounded a bit more “distant” when intoning the famous C-G-C rising motif. Benaroya Hall’s beautiful organ sounded resplendent under the hands of Joseph Adam, particularly with the big C major chord at m. 19. 

The Seattle Symphony strings played the theme at m. 35 (Mässig langsam, mit Andacht) with great warmth and beauty of tone. Concertmaster Noah Geller soared with his violin solos, and the clarinet solo at m. 194 (sehr ausdruckvoll) had a beautiful quality and was very movingly played. The celli and basses achieved a real pianissimo– not only the sound, but also the pianissimoquality - playing the rising motif at m. 201. The strings again shone at m. 230 (allmählich etwas weniger langsam) with the richness and beauty of their tone. The orchestra achieved a lovely shimmering in their playing of the etwas lebhaftersection at m. 252. 

On the whole, I thought that Thomas Dausgaard’s reading of the score was very successful. He infused the music with a tension that I did not find (as much) in his last Strauss outing with Eine Alpensinfonie, well played as it was. Only in the ending of Zarathustradid I feel that there could have been more of a sense of enigma, of mystery.

The Seattle Symphony’s upcoming  season is filled with many ambitious projects, no doubt showcasing the talents of its new music director. I hope that Dausgaard’s tenure in Seattle will be a long and fruitful one. I was certainly happy to have had the opportunity to return to beautiful Benaroya Hall and enjoyed the performance by this wonderful orchestra.

Patrick May