Superconductor Classical and Opera

Concert Review: The Comeback

2013-05-20T12:17:00.001-04:00

James Levine conducts the MET Orchestra at Carnegie Hall.
by Paul J. Pelkonen

Metropolitan Opera Music Director James Levine leads the MET Orchestra
at Carnegie Hall in a concert on Sunday, May 19, 2013.
Photo by Marty Sohl © 2013 The Metropolitan Opera.

The roar was deafening.

James Levine, music director of the Metropolitan Opera, returned to conducting on Sunday afternoon at Carnegie Hall. As the maestro's motorized wheelchair rolled into Stern Auditorium, the capacity crowd stood up and cheered. It has been two years since Mr. Levine conducted his last performance with the Met, two years of cancellations, painful rehabilitation and uncertainty for the conductor and the opera company.

Mr. Levine is currently using the wheelchair following a slew of health problems. He has battled cancer, shoulder injuries, and back problems necessitating painful surgery. In 2011, a fall suffered on Labor Day weekend caused a major setback and the cancellation of all of his podium appearances for that season. He also suffers from Parkinson's-like symptoms, an apparent after-effect of all these recent medical procedures. He wasn't on the Met schedule (except for this performance) this season, although he has retained the title of Music Director. For this concert, he conducted from a special motorized platform, designed and built by the ever-resourceful Met stage crew.

Much of that uncertainty dissipated with the Prelude to Wagner's Lohengrin. This ethereal tone poem depicts the descent of the Holy Grail from the heavens with ethereal violins and surging brass. Its slow pace and measured crescendo requires masterful control from the conductor. Just a few bars reminded the listener what Mr. Levine brings to the music of Wagner, a quality of total artistic commitment that engulfs and enthralls. The magic was indeed back.

Following this ten-minute prelude was no easy task. So Mr. Levine chose Beethoven, or more specifically the Fourth Piano Concerto with soloist (and longtime concert collaborator) Evgeny Kissin. The sight and sound of watching these two artists collaborate had the refreshing effect of stripping away all the drama and baggage of the past two years. Mr. Levine's business is making music, and it was a welcome return to business as usual.

The expansive first movement opened with a slow ruminative passage for the solo piano, answered by the same notes in the strings. As the thematic material developed, Mr. Levine showed that he had not lost his ability with orchestral music, helped by the taut precision of his orchestra. Mr. Kissin played with quicksilver speed, racing through Beethoven's light-hearted arpeggios and the movement's extended final cadenza with a precision and speed as if challenging Mr. Levine to keep pace. Mr. Levine did.

The central slow movement was played with hushed delicacy, with some of the same grace and beauty that marked the earlier Wagner. The finale charged forward with timpani and trumpets, an energetic set of variations played with gusto by conductor and orchestra. Following the applause and Mr. Levine's exit, Mr. Kissin took a high-speed encore: Beethoven's Rondo alla ingharese quasi un capriccio, the dubbed "Rage over a Lost Penny."

The second half of the concert belonged solely to Mr. Levine. He chose Schubert's Ninth Symphony, a glorious expanse of sound that anticipates the later orchestral ideas of Wagner and Bruckner. Schubert takes a deceptively simple horn-call and uses it as the foundation of a massive structure of sound. Mr. Levine proved himself equal to each of the four movements, showing the close connection between conductor and orchestra as the players responded to his slightest gesture. That sense of power and artistic certainty grew over the two central movements, a steady Andante and a bustling Scherzo that each movement, climaxing in the muscular Allegro.

Concert Review: The Defense of the New

2013-05-19T12:42:00.000-04:00

Sir Simon Rattle conducts the Philadelphia Orchestra.
by Paul J. Pelkonen

Soprano Barbara Hannigan as the Police Chief from Ligeti's Le Grand Macabre.
Image from BarbaraHannigan.com.

Some composers still need an advocate. Today's audiences are filled with skeptics, put off by the idea of atonal music and names like Berg, Webern and Ligeti. On Friday night at Carnegie Hall, the Philadelphia Orchestra returned to Carnegie Hall under the baton of Sir Simon Rattle, the current music director of the Berlin Philharmonic. This program cemented Sir Simon's reputation as a fearless advocate for these new sounds, interpreted through the rich, velvety texture of this top-flight ensemble.

The concert opened with Webern's Passacaglia. This is the composer's first published work, published in 1908 but written well before he came under Schoenberg's tutelage. Plucked strings establish an eight-note bass theme, which is then put through twenty-three permutations supported by a very large orchestra. Sir Simon brought hushed delicacy to the early passages, and power and urgency to the huge chords of brass and strings that form the work's climactic moments.

The orchestra was joined by soprano Barbara Hannigan for Three Fragments from Alban Berg's seminal 1925 opera Wozzeck. These arrangements were made by the composer as a kind of "road show" to build awareness for his first opera, the sad story of a soldier who murders his unfaithful lover and then drowns while trying to recover the murder weapon. Ms. Hannigan played the central role of Marie in these excerpts, which include Marie's two important solo scenes and the opera's finale.

Berg demands flexibility from this huge orchestra, requiring the sounds of a military band, a chamber orchestra, often in the same scene. Sinuous themes hinted at the murder to come, with slithering, jarring chords. Ms. Hannigan melted into the part of the doomed Marie, torn between her lust for the pompous Drum Major and her infant child. The Prayer Scene (Act II Scene 1) followed, with Ms. Hannigan mixing song with sprechstimme ("song-speech") creating a picture of desparation.

The third excerpt presented Wozzeck's death, a moving elegy for the common man defeated by forces beyond his control. This was played with power and heart-felt emotion. The repeated statements of a single note in the orchestra led to a chorale-like reiteration of the protagonist's despairing main theme. In the last scene of the opera, Ms. Hannigan played the parts of a gang of children and the protagonists' young, orphaned son. She turned and sang "Hop-hopp!" the final words of the lad, riding his hobby-horse.

The second half of the evening opened with a black-wigged Ms. Hannigan bursting onto the stage. Decked out in vinyl boots and a black latex trench-coat, she reprised the (insane) Chief of Police in Mysteries of the Macabre, a ten-minute excerpt from György Ligeti's opera Le Grand Macabre. This is a coloratura tour-de-force and a concert specialty of this artist. Written for a small, unconventional orchestra, it sounds like Mozart's Queen of the Night gone further round the bend and singing in carefully notated gibberish. Ms. Hannigan's brilliant, over-the-top performance made the Hall rock with laughter, especially when she knocked Mr. Rattle off his podium and started flailing at the orchestra.

The concert concluded with a note-perfect performance of Beethoven's Pastorale Symphony. This was an energetic walk through the composer's imaginary country-side, rambling through fields and forests with stops by the brook to hear birds twitter and chirp in the woodwinds. The cellos took the lead with these familiar, expansive themes, in an idyllic portrait that somehow clarified the details of the score. Conductor and orchestra took glee as they impersonated the merry town band of the third movement, scattering them with the thunderstorm that followed. The final Shepherd's Song was played with deep, serene feeling, and a sound from the orchestra that seemed to glow in the final pages.

Concert Review: The Return of the Dazzler

2013-05-17T14:55:00.000-04:00

Yuja Wang in recital at Carnegie Hall.
by Paul J. Pelkonen

Yuja Wang. Photo by Xavier Antoinet.
Image © 2013 YujaWang.com.

In the course of this young decade, the pianist Yuja Wang has emerged as one of the most galvanizing artists of the keyboard appearing on concert stages. Her rock-solid virtuosity, brave repertory decisions and habit of playing recitals in a minimal black dress and a dazzling pair of heels have made her a piano celebrity, the kind that comes along once in a generation.

On Thursday night, Ms. Wang returned to the stage of Carnegie Hall with a taut, self-contained program of compact works perfectly suited to her aggressive piano style. This recital bridged modern American music (by Lowell Liebermann) with Scriabin, Rachmaninoff and Ravel, early 20th century masters whose piano writing continues to challenge soloists, even at Ms. Wang's level of skill.

The program opened with Mr. Liebermann's Gargoyles, a four-part work that mirrored the structure of a classical sonata without necessarily adhering to the form. Ms. Wang's skill in playing sinewy ostinatos and dazzling runs up the keyboard were very much at the fore, as she pounded out rhythms suggestive of Stravinsky and Dukas. She shifted gears between the four mini-movements, culminating in a driving finish that dazzled the ear and made a good case for the works of this contemporary composer.

Rachmaninoff's Second Piano Sonata is one of his best known and loved works. Ms. Wang made the composer's characteristic melodies and powerful Slavic rhythms glisten with a sharp, modern edge. Stripping this work of its sentimentality is no easy feat. However. Ms. Wang made the sweep and grandeur of the big tunes were still present, along with the immaculate musical logic that courses through the three movements. Given her pedal-to-the-metal approach, it was the last movement that emerged as the most impressive, with the whole Rondo culminating in a final, thundering chord.

The second half of the program (played in that oh-so-controversial bright orange dress) was much more interesting. Ms. Wang took on a pair of piano sonatas by Aleksandr Scriabin, the Russian composer (and schoolmate of Rachmaninoff's) whose career was characterized by a strange trajectory into theosophy, yoga, and a plan to mount a world-ending concert in India complete with colors and scents that would maximize the sensory overload of his music.

Scriabin's Second Piano Sonata dates from an earlier period, but it is still unconventional, with strange beams of light and melody emerging from dense textures and clouds of sound. It was followed by the Sixth Sonata, a work painted in various tones of black and umber that so scared the sensitive composer that he refused to play it. Ms. Wang had no such inhibitions. She highlighted the gleaming, jewel-like melodies of the Second with an astonishing display of fast, light-fingered playing. The Sixth was even better, with a rock-solid rhythmic foundation that let the listener grasp this eccentric composer's true intent.

Ms. Wang ended her concert with Maurice Ravel's one-piano version of La Valse, the orchestral tone poem that uses this beloved Viennese theme to reflect on the death and destruction of World War One. Following the two Scriabin works, La Valse functioned as the logical third movement of a larger musical structure. As Ravel collapsed his original tonal triple-time theme into crashing tone clusters in the bass register, one heard the bleak despair of the Scriabin Sixth echoed and redoubled in the last bars.

The concert concluded with a brace of encores, met with rapturous applause from the suddenly diminishing audience. Ms. Wang treated her listeners to a difficult one-two punch of Rachmaninoff (the Élégie in E-flat minor and Prokofiev, reaching all the way back in that composer's oeuvre for his first opus number, the Toccata No. 1. This astonishing display of rhythmic playing and wrist strength was followed by Vladimir Horowitz' Carmen variations, a work built on the gypsy dance that opens the second act.

Ms. Wang concluded her bows with two pieces designed to show the reflective side of her playing. The C# minor Chopin waltz was not a success, taken at a very fast tempo. Franz Liszt's transcription of Schubert's Gretchen am Spinnerade was better, played with grace and lyric beauty. It was the perfect dessert to a hearty pianistic meal.

White Smoke Over Huntington Avenue

2013-05-16T12:00:00.001-04:00

Andris Nelsons to take over Boston Symphony Orchestra.
by Paul J. Pelkonen

Andris Nelsons is the new Music Director at the Boston Symphony Orchestra.
Photo by Stu Rosner © 2011 Boston Symphony Orchestra.

There's a new sheriff in Boston.

The board of the Boston Symphony Orchestra announced today that Andris Nelsons will be the ensemble's new Music Director, filling a vacancy at one of America's "big five" orchestras. The post has been empty since James Levine's resignation in 2011.

Mr. Nelsons is the current principal conductor and music director of the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra, a post that he has held since 2007. He will retain that position in addition to his Boston duties, and is currently extended with the CBSO through 2015.

The 34-year-old Latvian conductor won the position over a strong field of candidates. He is the youngest M.D. in Boston in over a century. Other names that drew speculation in recent years included French conductor Stéphane Denève, the Italian maestro Daniele Gatti and Sean Newhouse, a James Levine protége who stepped in for his mentor to conduct a riveting Mahler Ninth in 2011. Mr. Nelsons' debut with the BSO in 2011 also found him substituting for Mr. Levine.

This appointment follows a recent trend among major orchestras of hiring a younger generation of baton-wielders to major music directorships. Among other "Generation X" conductors: Yannick Nézet-Séguin (38) of the Philadelphia Orchestra, Daniel Harding (38, currently with the Swedish Radio Symphony Orchestra) and Gustavo Dudamel (31) with the Los Angeles Philharmonic and the Simon Bolivar Symphony Orchestra of Venezuela.

Mr. Nelsons' five-year contract begins with the 2014-15 season, although he will serve as "Music Director Designate" for the 2013 season. He is scheduled to conduct the BSO in the Verdi Requiem at Tanglewood this summer, and will lead orchestral performances in October 2013 (Wagner's Siegfried Idyll, a Mozart Piano Concerto and the Brahms Third) and a March 2014 concert performance of the Richard Strauss opera Salome.

The Superconductor Untitled Awards

2013-05-14T22:38:00.000-04:00

The Five Best Performances* at the Metropolitan Opera...this season.
(*that I saw and wrote about.)
by Paul J. Pelkonen

Our award trophy. Well, it's really a big, weird abstract sculpture
(Untitled, by Mary Callery) in the Metropolitan Opera House.

We are at mid-May and as I start getting ready to work on next season's Metropolitan Opera coverage, it's time to wrap up 2012-2013 at the big house. Here are the five best shows I attended in a very long opera season. I've done this before, but this year, the winners get to print out this article with a nice digital blow-up of the Untitled sculpture located over the proscenium in the Sybil Harrington Auditorium. (Shipping, handling and sculpture not included.)

Before you ask, I couldn't get a ticket for Dialogues of the Carmelites. I heard it was great.

Since this year's schedule was heavily loaded toward Wagner and Verdi, (with five operas by one and seven by the other) it's not surprising to see that three of this year's top five are in fact, Verdi operas. Other honorable mentions this season include Pretty Yende in Le Comte Ory, Lyudmila Montyrska in Aida and the Metropolitan Opera Orchestra in pretty much anything they played, but especially in Parsifal, Götterdämmerung and The Tempest.

And the winners are....

The Met's new François Girard Parsifal was the best show of the year.
Jonas Kaufmann and Katerina Dalayman in Act II. Photo by Ken Howard © 2013 The Metropolitan Opera.

Les Troyens (Dec. 26, 2012)
"Mr. Hymel showed a robust voice that was capable of powering over the thundering marches and brassy climaxes of Berlioz' "Gluck-on-steroids" orchestra. His big moment at the end of Act I (when Enée ironically orders the Trojan Horse to be put on wheels and brought into the city) rang out with clarion power, carrying a promise of the good things to come."

Il Trovatore (Jan. 18, 2013)
In the final act, it was Angela Meade who provided musical and dramatic focus. She sang a seemingly effortless "D'amor sull'ali rosee" with great power and beauty of tone, with two perfectly floated pianissimo high Ds, mesmerizing the audience. This run of splendid singing continued through the famous Miserere (with Mr. Berti sounding resonant and plaintive from his offstage perch) and the heroine's final suicide."

Rigoletto (Jan. 27 2013)
Željko Lučić's Rigoletto improves every time he sings it. Whether in the expressive passages of Para siamo or his three tender duets with Gilda, he remains the heart and soul of this production. At work, he plays the jester as a nasty Don Rickles-type comic, taking repeated verbal slap shots at the Duke's collection of hockey pucks.

Parsifal (Feb. 18, 2013)
"This stark new production of Wagner's final opera is the great success of the 2012-2013 season, a well-reasoned, beautifully staged show that solves some of the major problems of Wagner's final opera in a unique way."

La Traviata (March 18, 2013)
(Note: I stood for this one. It was worth it.)
"If conducted properly, the last act of La Traviata should break your heart. Here, that intensity was supplied from Diana Damrau, supported by conductor Yannick Nézet-Séguin in the orchestra pit. All three stars of this show were at their best in this painful finale. As Ms. Damrau collapsed to the bare stage, she had come to the end of a memorable portrait of Verdi's most famous heroine. May there be many more."

Finally, I wouldn't be a mean, nasty, snaggly-toothed opera blogger if I didn't include the WORST performance I saw at the Met this season. Although contenders included a slapdash post-Sandy Nozze di Figaro and a March performance of Faust with an obviously ill Marina Poplavskaya losing her voice in the middle of Act V. But in both those cases there were extenuating circumstances that may have affected the performance.

So the (ahem) "winnner" is....

Don Carlo (Feb. 25, 2013)
"On Monday night, Mr. Maazel led a troubled performance. Sluggish tempos predominated, with none of the spring and snap needed to make this massive opera move forward...The problems grew worse in Act III, with the massive auto-da-fé that depicts both the coronation of King Philip and the cruelty of the Spanish Inquisition. The big choral themes plodded at a turgid pace that was again, musically accurate but dramatically uninspired...Mr. Maazel became the first conductor in this writer's memory to be booed from the house...twice."

Concert Review: His Favorite Instrument

2013-05-13T17:09:00.000-04:00

The National Symphony Orchestra closes out Spring For Music.
by Paul J. Pelkonen

Dmitri Shostakovich (left) and his good friend and interpreter Mstislav Rostropovich.

The National Symphony Orchestra has called the Kennedy Center in Washington D.C. home since that venue opened in 1971. In 1974, the NSO gained its most famous music director, when the Russian conductor and cellist Mstislav Rostropovich took over the position shortly after his defection from the former Soviet Union. He held that post for 23 years, stepping down in 1997 to resume an international performing career.

Although "Slava" was an international virtuoso performer who owned cellos by Stradivarius, Guarneri and Storioni, he occasionally referred to the NSO as his "favorite instrument." That reputation was on the line Saturday night, when the NSO came to Carnegie Hall to close this year's Spring For Music festival. Under the baton of current music director Christoph Eschenbach, the orchestra offered a triptych of pieces in tribute to Rostropovich.

The concert opened with Slava, Slava a short, percussion-heavy tone poem by composer Rodion Shchedrin. A play on Mr. Rostropovich's nickname, ("slava" also means "glory" in Russian) this was a fanfare designed to celebrate the Rostropovich legacy. Shchedrin added bell plates, heavy timpani part and extensive combination of chimes and thunderous chords for brass, sounding like the Coronation Scene from Boris Godunov without the great choral writing or that opera's melodic inspiration.

For Arthur Schnittke's haunting Viola Concerto, the orchestra was joined by David Aaron Carpenter. Written just before its composer was diagnosed with cancer, this is a haunting work which relies on an opening note-row to generate its melodic material. The opening movement is slow and haunting, creating an eerie, gray atmosphere, with swirling mists of low strings (there are no violins) surrounding the plaintive soloist.

The second movement featured fiery rhythms and muscular chords, with Mr. Carpenter playing arpeggios and double stops to create a raging torrent of sound. This paved the way for the slow third movement, which sounded like a stumble through a pitch-black labyrinth that had no exit. The work climaxed with a series of fortissimo brass chords, and ended with the solo viola dying slowly away, fading into silence and darkness.

Darkness describes the genesis of Shostakovich's Fifth Symphony, a work that saved the composer's career following the first round of Soviet artistic purges under Stalin. Working without a score, Mr. Eschenbach led an iterpretation that favored sinew over lyricism, Pounding rhythms in the second movement brought the orchestra's lurching dance to a fevered climax that shook the rafters, swept aside for a light-footed Trio section.

The slow movement was the highlight here, a long, spinning melody in the low strings and solo winds that may be a carefully coded expression of the composer's fear in the face of censorship and oppression. Mr. Eschenbach led a beautiful, slow build to a muscular, brassy climax. The massive finale was a triumphant blast overwhelming the audience with the sounds of shock and awe in brass and percussion. There is some question as to whether the composer meant this to be a genuine celebration of the triumph of socialism. But there is no doubt that the NSO's tribute to their late leader was most heartfelt.

Recordings Review: And the Chorus Shall Lead Them

2013-05-13T13:34:00.001-04:00

The Superconductor Verdi series rolls on with Nabucco.
by Paul J. Pelkonen

Like the weight and splendor of King Nebachudnezzar's massive Ishtar Gate (that guarded the entrance to Bablyon before winding up at the Pergamon Museum in Berlin) there's nothing subtle about Nabucco.

Verdi's third opera (and first smash hit) is a blood-and-thunder retelling of the Bablyonian captivity of the Old Testament. It opens with the sack of Jerusalem and the triumphat entrance of the Babylonian conqueror Nebachudnezzar. From there, the plot boils up a story of Nabucco's spiritual struggles with guilt as well as his fight for the throne with his psychotic daughter Abagaille. This is another Verdi collaboration with Temostocle Solera, who based the story on a French play and the events recounted in the Book of Daniel. This was Verdi's third opera to premiere at La Scala.

Written in 1841, this score shows the young Verdi leaving comedy behind after the dismal failure of Un Giorno di Regno. Here, he started master the gifts that made his earlier Oberto a small success, creating a blend of accessable melody with dramatic excitement and (unintentionally) moving Italian opera forward from the bel canto stylee. In addition to slashing brass chords and fanfares (usually accompanied by bass drum and cymbals, Nabucco makes frequent use of the steady four-note rhythm that accompanies so many of the composer's earlier vocal lines.

Among the three recordings of this opera in the catalogue, the one under consideration is from 1978, under the baton of a young firebrand conductor named Riccardo Muti. Mr. Muti takes a hard-nosed approach to this music, digging into the accompaniment of the cabalettas and lending spice to the big climaxes that end each of the four acts. With his brisk tempos and muscular leadership of the , Nabucco is over before you know it.

He is helped by a strong cast of Verdi veterans. Matteo Managuerra may not be a household name among baritones, but he is a colorful, characterful singer who tracks the king's evolution from fecklessness to enlightenment and redemption. (As we get deeper into Verdi's "galley years," Mr. Managuerra stars in a lot of recordings.) He is matched by Renata Scotto, at a peak in her career and singing fearlessly in the very demanding role of Abagaille. "Salgo già del trono aurato " is a chilling portrait of wickedness as Abagaille plans to slaughter the captive Jews.

As Fenena, the libretto's (relatively) "good girl," Elena Obratszova brings her big, wide mezzo voice to this smaller, supporting part. She is matched by Veriano Luchetti as Ismaele, a credible tenor with a big voice who never achieved household name status. Their Act I trio with Ms. Scotto is an early treat, sumptuously sung and expertly accompanied. Nicolai Ghiaurov is a potent presence as Zaccaria, the prophet who serves as the onstage reminder of God's presence in these momentous events.

Although Verdi created a memorable soprano villain in Abagaille and a tortured villain-turned-hero in Nabucco, the real star of this show is the chorus. Specifically it's one chorus, the Act IV "Va, pensiero" that became a signature tune on the streets of Milan, one that still has anthemic meaning for the Italian people. The famous story about Italians adopting the chorus as a nationalist anthem may be apocryphal, but it only adds to the legends that have built up around this opera.

Recordings Review: A Flying Start

2013-05-13T00:23:00.002-04:00

Valery Gergiev starts a new Ring with Die Walküre.
by Paul J. Pelkonen

"And this, children, is how Wotan lost his eye." Valery Gergiev on the podium.
Photo by Alberto Venzagos © 2012 London Symphony Orchestra.

Valery Gergiev and the Mariinsky Orchestra make their case as a premier Wagner ensemble with this new Die Walküre, released on February 12 of this year. With an all-star cast of Wagner singers and the enthusiastic Mariinsky players working under tightly controlled conditions, this may be the finest recording of this opera to to emerge in this young century. In other words, it's damned good.

From the first notes of Act I, Mr. Gergiev combines driving rhythms with organic use of rubato in the more lyric moments of the score. These recordings were made at the Mariinsky Theater in 2011 and 2012 in a concert setting with audience. This is a common (and budget-minded) recording technique that allows for the electricity of live theater with the precision needed when committing operas to the permanent record. The big moments explode out of the speakers, with a thrilling Ride of the Valkyries and Magic Fire music.

It is as an accompanist that Mr. Gergiev proves his true worth, in the long, passionate mutual seduction of Siegmund (Jonas Kaufmann) and Sieglinde (Anja Kampe) in Act I. The incestuous love affair builds to a fevered level, with Mr. Gergiev providing expert shading and background as the romance kindles between these twins. That trend continues in the later acts, as the orchestra provides a velvety texture for the singers and a welcome burst of adrenaline in the long monologues of Act II and III.

The key figure here is Nina Stemme as Brunnhilde. Much has been made of this Swedish soprano's large, flexible instrument, with her choice of repertory and country of origin drawing comparisons to Birgit Nilsson. However, Ms. Stemme is her own artist, opting to sing each nuance in the role with a wide, sometimes engulfing soprano. She does have a large vibrato, which suggests the protagonist's underlying humanity, making the listener empathize with Brunnhilde's dilemma.

This is René Pape's first "official" outing as Wotan. Unlike most singers who tackle this massive role, Mr. Pape is a true bass, reaching up into the baritone range for the character's sweeter notes in the heart-melting "Farewell." He uses his experience as a lieder singer in hushed moments, singing lines like "ich Unfreiester aller!" with a chilling clarity that penetrates the subconscious. The big "Gotternot!" tantrum that follows is just as effective, with thundering accompaniment from the orchestra.

Mr. Kaufmann is in glorious voice here, melting and sculpting the phrases of "Wintersturme" and the all-important Annunciation of Death scene with Ms. Stemme. Ms. Kampe is a potent Sieglinde, with a sweet, timid manner that explodes into orgasmic joy at the end of Act I (when Siegmund pulls the sword out of the tree) and in "O heiliges wunder!" in Act III. Ekaterina Gubanova is a grim, yet persuasive figure as Fricka, showing Mr. Pape the error of his ways. Finally, Mikhail Petrenko is a burly, menacing presence as Hunding, Sieglinde's brutish husband and this opera's main antagonist.

With the long-awaited opening of the Mariinsky II theater in St. Petersburg, Valery Gergiev and the Mariinsky Orchestra are in the process of their reinforcing their place as one of Russia's premiere cultural institutions. This new Die Walküre, their second complete Wagner outing after a 2011 Parsifal, does even more, staking a claim that this is one of the world's premiere Wagner ensembles. We'll know more in September, when Das Rheingold arrives in shops.

Opera Review: Countdown to Extinction

2013-05-12T01:19:00.001-04:00

The Met presents the last Götterdämmerung of 2013.
by Paul J. Pelkonen

A fine romance: Brunnhilde (Deborah Voigt) sends Siegfried (Lars Cleveman)
off to battle in the Prologue to Wagner's Götterdämmerung.
Photo © 2013 The Metropolitan Opera.

At the time of this writing, it is uncertain if Saturdays matinee performance of Götterdämmerung at the Metropolitan Opera, was the final performance ever of the company's current production of Wagner’s Der Ring des Nibelungen. If this was the last performance of Ring (which premiered with Das Rheingold in 2010) before the Met decides to cut its losses, the quality of this performance may have earned a stay of execution, if not an acquittal for this troubled show.

Working closely with conductor Fabio Luisi and Met prompter Carrie-Ann Matheson, Deborah Voigt was in her comfort zone in this performance. The voice still lacks core support in some passages, but she delivered thrills in the Act I scene where a drugged, disguised Siegfried robs her of the Ring, and the hair-raiding Vengeance Trio in Act II. She finished strong with a soaring Immolation Scene, although one wonders if this proficiency stems from a long history of singing this excerpt in concert.

Her Siegfried was the Swedish tenor Lars Cleveman. He displayed a bright, ringing upper top that (in the first scene) turned shrill under pressure. Mr. Cleveman sounded best in the lower parts of this long role, improving as the opera went on. (His baritonal coloring made him quite convincing when disguised as Gunther.) He capped his performance with an entertaining Rhinemaiden scene, a movingly sung Act III narrative and death scene guaranteeing the hero a fine exit and enthusiastic applause.

The German bass Hans-Peter König has been a linch-pin of this production, singing four major bass roles (one in each opera) in this spring's complete Ring cycles. Here, he was a firm, resonant Hagen with a thin veneer of good fellowship concealing this villain's gangster heart. Mr. König was particularly fine in "Hagen's Watch," one of the few solo scenes in the Ring. His Act II scene with Alberich (Richard Paul Fink) was played with dark colors and a murky, gloomy atmosphere that seemed to ooze out of the orchestra pit.

Mr. König was flanked by two strong Gibichung siblings. Iain Paterson brings a tragic weight to Gunther, although his baritone sometimes struggled to be heard over the heaviest orchestration. Wendy Bryn Harmer reprised her strong Gutrune, making the love-struck princess more than just another victim of Hagen's schemes. As Brunnhilde's sister Waltraute, mezzo Karen Cargill made the most of her long narrative, where she fills her sister in on the imminent disaster facing Valhalla.

In the orchestra pit, Fabio Luisi is not James Levine. And that's not a bad thing. The Met's principal conductor favors brisk tempos, cuing rapid deployments of Wagner's Jenga™-like stacks of leitmotivic material. The orchestra were in top form, with exceptional playing in the big moments of the score (the Rhine Journey, the Funeral Music) although they were at their most riveting in the long scene with Waltraute and Brunnhilde. The Met chorus injected the show with fresh energy and good humor, with the drinking games of the Gibichung vassals a welcome contrast to the sense of impending doom that pervades this opera.

“The Machine”, the enormous movable set that serves as scenery and projection surface for Mr. Lepage's digital visuals was (apart from a few creaks and clanks) on its best behavior when the curtain was up. (The start of Act II was delayed ten minutes for technical reasons).There is a certain pop-up book thrill at watching these 24 smooth geometric objects reconfigure themselves into castle vaults, Brunnhilde's fiery mountain (twice) the Rhine River and the Norns world-ash tree. At the end of the show, the planks lifted to reveal the entire Met stage crew, who received a thunderous and well-deserved ovation.

Although the final tableau (depicting the destruction of the Gibichung castle and the burning of Valhalla) has improved since this production opened in January of 2012, the final conflagration remains curiously bland. As digital flames licked digital wood, replaced by digital floods, it carried a curious sense of promise unfulfilled. Perhaps this expensive show deserves better than the purgatory of the Met archives. Sure, it's not perfect. And it will never be as beloved as the old Schenk/Schneider-Siemssen staging. Consider this: is the act of spending (approximately) $50 million on four operas only to mothball the whole show after three season an even bigger folly than mounting the Lepage Ring in the first place?

Concert Review: The Motor City Comet

2013-05-11T01:59:00.001-04:00

The Detroit Symphony Orchestra plays four Ives symphonies.

by Paul J. Pelkonen

The perihelion of Halley's Comet inspired Charles Ives' Symphony No. 4.

Of all the orchestras scheduled for this year’s Spring For Music festival at Carnegie Hall, none generated more anticipation than the Detroit Symphony Orchestra. These two concerts mark the ensemble’s first return to the historic venue in 17 years, and its first visit under the leadership of its music director Leonard Slatkin.

For Friday night’s concert, Mr. Slatkin assembled a bold program: a complete cycle of the four numbered symphonies of American iconoclast Charles Ives. Ives is revered among American composers. He was a fearless experimenter who combined unique ideas about tonality and rhythm to create sonic slices of everyday life, anchored by military percussion, patriotic songs and spirituals. These four symphonies a trace a complete musical evolution, spanning just eighteen years.

The program began with the Symphony No. 1, a work that also served as the 20-year-old Ives’ graduation project at Yale. This 50-minute work bears the stamp of 19th century romanticism, although it is constructed with an innovative tonal sensibility. (The first movement goes through eight key changes.) The slow second movement, with its Dvořák-like English horn solo was played with sensuous beauty, with the low string creating orgiastic waves of sound. An elegant waltz and stirring finale followed, a picture of formal construction that would have pleased Brahms.

Although Ives chose a formal, conservative four-movement structure for his First, the Second is the work where he began to find his true voice. He did so through a bewildering set of leitmotivs and quotations, drawn from folk songs and hymns along with direct references to the work of Wagner and Tchaikovsky. This work, with its bold experiments in sonic textures, premiered in 1951 (under the baton of Leonard Bernstein) but was finished 35 years before. It is this composer's best-loved and most played symphony.

This is Ives the gleeful rule-breaker, unafraid to let a fresh musical idea interrupt a still developing theme. He cheerfully juxtaposes familiar ideas to create new collage-like sounds. For example, the first movement featuresa few bars of the Meistersinger overture, colliding with the dotted rhythms of Beethoven’s Fifth and the cheerful romp of "Turkey in the Straw." The climactic finale included a standing quotation of “Columbia! Gem of the Ocean”, blasted by the trombones over a churning orchestral sea. This was the sound of a mature composer who knew exactly what he was doing. The five movements, climaxing in a brief blast of an atonal eleven-pitch chord, were conducted with gusto by Mr. Slatkin.

The second half of the evening was shorter, brimming with bold musical ideas that continued to challenge the listener. The Third Symphony (titled “The Camp Meeting”) is a profound, deeply spiritual work, evoking the simple gifts of New England church services with a shifting, chromatic tonality that is strange at first but oddly satisfying. The final movement ends with a delicate peal of offstage bells, the sound of a sunny Sunday morning with an innocence that, in the hand of a lesser composer would be mere naïveté.

Before performing the Fourth Symphony, Mr. Slatkin said a few words. He recounted his experience at the work's 1965 premiere (at Carnegie Hall, with Leopold Stokowski conducting the American Symphony Orchestra.) He then offered several musical examples, demonstrating how the unique, chaotic sound of this symphony comes from the huge orchestra playing several of Ives' trademark folk-tunes at the same time.

The Fourth Symphony was inspired by the visit of Halley's Comet in 1910. Ives broke new ground again, creating unearthly textures in the opening movement that were accompanied by an onstage chorus (the UMS Choral Union Chamber Singers) singing a hymn and an offstage group of violins and reeds. Sections of the huge orchestra do combat in the second movement, a deliberate evocation of chaos caused by two conductors working at once. (Mr. Slatkin was assisted by Teddy Abrams.) The third is a formal fugue for strings and organ, built up and expanded from an idea from an early Ives string quartet.

All this is preparation for the finale, where the sonic boom of the second movement is contrasted with the work's quieter ideas. The chorus returns, singing a radiant, wordless wash of sound, supported by the woodwinds, strings and horns. The finale of the work is a fading offstage percussion ensemble, dwindling at last into silence. As Mr. Slatkin put his arms down, the red hankies whirled and waved from the house. The orchestra responded. The applause was deafening, the sort of noise and chaos that might have shown up on staff paper had Ives written a Fifth Symphony.

Concert Review: Thunder on the Steppe

2013-05-10T12:08:00.000-04:00

The Buffalo Philharmonic plays Spring For Music.
by Paul J. Pelkonen

The Russian hero Ilya Muromets and his horse Burushka, as depicted in Vladimit Toropchin's
Ilya Muromets and Nightingale the Robber © 2007 Melnitsa Animation Studio

The great city of Buffalo, New York may be better known for its red-hot chicken wings and enthusiastic football fans than its orchestra. At Wednesday night's Spring For Music concert at Carnegie Hall, the Buffalo Philharmonic Orchestra made a strong case for the city by Lake Ontario as a hub of musical life in upstate New York.

Started in 1935 as a Works Progress Administration project designed to keep local musicians employed, the BPO enjoys a fierce following. That was demonstrated by the 1,500 supporters who arrived at Carnegie Hall on Wednesday night to wave kelly-green handkerchiefs and support their orchestra under the baton of music director JoAnn Faletta. Giving standing ovations and applauding between movements, the Buffalo supporters were nearly as loud as the massive orchestra on the stage.

Ms. Faletta assembled one of the more interesting programs in this year's festival lineup, presenting two vastly different works whose only common thread is their origin in the former U.S.S.R. The first half of the concert offered Morning Prayers from Life Without Christmas, a poem for strings, alto flute and pre-recorded tape by Georgian composer Giya Kancheli. It premiered in 1991.

This was a gentle, atmospheric piece, evoking the crisis of Christians in Soviet Russia banned from observing Christmas under that oppressive regime. Ms. Faletta drew hushed, atmospheric playing from the large string section. The taped prayers of a boy treble acted as eerie grace notes, along with the solo alto flute that seemed to respond to the softly sung words. The thunderous response from the audience was in direct contrast to the subtlety of this music.

The second half of the program features the Symphony No. 3 (Ilya Muromets") by Reinhold Glière. This is a programmatic symphony from 1912, a set of four vast tone paintings depicting the sweeping landscapes of Kievan Russia and the heroic deeds of Ilya Muromets, the great warrior hero who is beatified as a saint of the Russian Orthodox Church. Due to the Brucknerian length of this symphony and its enormous orchestral requirements, this work is rarely heard outside Russia.

Glière's symphony is organized into four large-scale movements, with each movement retelling an incident in Muromets' life. The first half chronicles the hero's battles against the bandit Solovey ("Nightingale") in a gorgeous slow crescendo, with tinkling percussion indicating the stolen loot adorning the bandit's daughters. A dance movement indicates general celebration, and the climax, which presages the great pictorial symphonic movemens of Shostakovich, recounts Muromets' final heroic charge against invading Tartars, and his death by petrification.

The Buffalo players met the challenge of this music with enthusiasm. Glière calls for enormous orchestra forces, with a full frontal assault of horns and trombones declaring Muromets' heroism. A contrasting theme for high woodwinds depicts the piercing whistle of the Nightingale. there is extensive writing for the contrabassoon, the lowest-pitched member of the orchestra. The music is expansive and hearty, with liberal nods to the scores of Richard Wagner. Sometimes it sounds as if this Russian hero owes a huge debt to the exploits of that composer's Siegfried.

Concert Review: The Golden Age of Jazz

2013-05-08T11:12:00.000-04:00

The Albany Symphony Orchestra plays at Spring For Music.
by Ellen Fishbein

Albany Symphony Orchestra music director David Alan Miller.

The third annual Carnegie Hall Spring For Music festival continued Tuesday night with the Albany Symphony Orchestra playing a program of modern music by American composers under the baton of David Alan Miller. The program was broadcast live on WQXR, 105.9 FM.)

Mr. Miller opened the concert with a few words about the evening's selections: works by John Harbison, George Gershwin, and Morton Gould. "These composers," he said, "not only loved jazz, but were also immersed and completely versatile in the idiom of their time." Therefore, the orchestra, in the spirit of its chosen composers, would see "no reason to separate the symphonic from the popular."

The orchestra opened with the Suite drawn from Mr. Harbison's 1999 opera The Great Gatsby. This is a 25-minute condensation of the score, eschewing the Overture and arias to retell the story fluidly. Mr. Harbison's music creates a a frantic but enticing 1920s decadence. Most intriguing are the melodic patterns that sound authentic to the 1920s but are in fact the composer's own invention.

There was room for improvement in the ASO's performance. The most playful, lilting moments shone, but some of the subtler rhythmic patterns could have been expressed more fully. Still, the piece created an exciting, buoyant atmosphere.

When Kevin Cole stepped onto the stage to join the orchestra in performing George Gershwin's Second Rhapsody, his love for Gershwin and his perfect tempi proved infectious. Mr. Cole has been considered today's definitive interpreter of Gershwin, and he deserves those accolades; Gershwin's complex patterns, more mature than those of Rhapsody in Blue, seemed to make Mr. Cole's fingers move in spite of themselves.

Watch the Albany Symphony Orchestra perform the Great Gatsby Suite by John Harbison.

Working with such a gifted and good-natured pianist clearly inspired the Albany musicians. Their playing was much more natural--sublime, even--alongside Mr. Cole's. The pianist's endearing shyness (he nearly ran off the stage when the thunderous applause struck) did not prevent the audience from demanding an encore. After a few bashful bows, Mr. Cole impressively condensed ten Gershwin melodies into a seven-minute medley. Some audience members were still dancing when the house lights came on for the intermission.

The final selection, Symphony No. 3 by Morton Gould, took a little patience to appreciate but was worth it. After a nuanced, delicately treated first movement, the orchestra played the second movement with revelatory insight. Contrasting figures seemed to come alive. Here, even more than in the previous selections, Mr. Miller's sharp, modern podium style bore fruit. Played by a less experienced ensemble, the third movement would have collapsed on itself. Here, with a mix of precise timing (and just a touch of musical caution) the Albany Symphony Orchestra made it fun, lighthearted, and a little sardonic--as per the composer's instructions.

Best of all was the final movement of the Gould. In the past, the symphony has been performed using a different fourth movement: a somber, slow one that Gould created later upon a friend's advice. For this performance, Mr. Miller chose to use the original finale, which had lain unperformed for 50 years. This finale was more than worth waiting for. Its depth and beauty surpassed all that had been heard that evening and brought the performance into a new emotional space. The conductor was correct in his initial comments about Gould's Symphony No. 3: it is a "monumental, fascinating" piece that has been "strangely and sadly neglected." The orchestra should congratulate itself as a group for being today's ambassador for this splendid music.

Festival Preview: Gilbert's Playlist

2013-05-08T09:42:00.000-04:00

The New York Philharmonic goes inside the mind of its Music Director.
by Paul J. Pelkonen

What is on Alan Gilbert's playlist?
Original photo by Chris Lee © 2013 The New York Philharmonic.
Photo alteration by the author.

The June schedule of the New York Philharmonic is the last major event of the 2013 spring concert season in New York. This year, for its final run of concerts, the orchestra is building its programming around a new concept: the personal listening habits of music director Alan Gilbert.

Gilbert's Playlist, as the concert series has been dubbed, opens May 30, four days after the Philharmonic's free Memorial Day concert at the Cathedral Church of St. John the Divine. (This year's concert is a reprise of Anton Bruckner's Third Symphony.) The far-reaching festival encompasses opera, ballet, jazz and even puppetry, offering an inside look at the wide-ranging tastes of Mr. Gilbert.

The first concert weekend (May 30-June 1) explores jazz with a reprise of Jazz at Lincoln Center director Wynton Marsalis' Swing Symphony. It is the trumpeter's third symphonic effort. This work, (which had its world premiere with Sir Simon Rattle and the Berlin Philharmonic in 2010) opened the New York Philharmonic's season in 2010. Here, the symphony is programmed alongside Aaron Copland's Clarinet Concerto and shorter works by Stravinsky and Shostakovich.

The focus then shifts to opera, with the first Philharmonic concert performances of Luigi Dallapiccola's harrowing Il Prigioniero ("The Prisoner.") This is not a tale of a mysterious English village, rather it is a Dostoyevskian nightmare that is set during the Spanish Inquisition. It will be paired with Serge Prokofiev's first Violin Concerto, with soloist Lisa Biatashvili. (June 6, 8, 11)

After a week away from the podium (for performances of Stravinsky's Firebird Suite and Prokofiev's Second Violin Concerto) the Playlist resumes June 20-22. These concerts feature Mr. Gilbert's arrangement of The Ring Without Words, a series of bite-sized orchestral fragments from Wagner's massive operas, played as a one-hour suite. The concerts open with Haydn's Piano Concerto No. 11 (with New York Philharmonic artist-in-residence Emanuel Ax) and the New York premiere of Symphony No. 3. by Philharmonic composer-in-residence Christopher Rouse.

The final week of Gilbert's Playlist is the most anticipated: a return to collaboration with the Brooklyn-based puppeteer Doug Fitch, whose work was last seen in Philharmonic stagings of the operas Le Grande Macabre and The Cunning Little Vixen. This time, the artist's focus is on ballet: specifically Igor Stravinsky's The Fairy's Kiss and Petrushka. This program will be presented June 27, 28 and 29.

Twilight of the Machine

2013-05-07T11:58:00.001-04:00

Robert Lepage's Ring may face the scrap heap.
by Paul J. Pelkonen

Up in flames: a scene from Act III of the Metropolitan Opera production of Götterdämmerung.
Image © 2012 The Metropolitan Opera.

According to an article published yesterday on parterre.com, this might be the end of the road for the Metropolitan Opera's current production of Wagner's Der Ring des Nibelungen. The company has one performance of Siegfried and one of Götterdämmerung scheduled for later this week.

The report stated that this controversial production by Canadian director Robert Lepage was scheduled to return for three complete cycles in the 2016-2017 season. But unconfirmed reports indicate that the four operas, which use a single unit set (dubbed "the Machine" by the Met's stage crew) will be replaced in the schedule by other operas, including a revival of the company's current production of Der Fliegende Holländer.

The multi-million-dollar production (the set alone was estimated at $45 million) set the four operas on an enormous moving contraption, with twenty-four positionable planks that doubled as a viewing surface for sophisticated digital projections. It was an innovative approach to solving Wagner's staging requirements, which call for mountains, rivers, and fiery landscapes, sometimes changing in rapid succession with the curtain up. The sheer weight of the set led Met general manager Peter Gelb to order renovations to the stage left side of the theater (where the Machine set rested between shows) reinforcing the floor with steel I-beams to the tune of another $4.5 million.

The four operas of the Ring opened individually between 2010 and 2012. Although the cast, led by bass-baritone Bryn Terfel, tenor Jonas Kaufmann and bass Eric Owens was generally praised, the operas themselves met with mixed reviews. More seriously, a number of onstage accidents occurred, including an opening night Machine malfunction that spoiled the acrobatic finale of Das Rheingold.

Other problems followed. Soprano Deborah Voigt tripped over her skirt as she tried to climb the Machine on opening night of Die Walküre. In another mishap, one of the Valkyries fell off the set in the Ride of the Valkyries. On opening night of Das Rheingold this season, the Machine stopped dead in the middle of a transformation scene, forcing the actors to improvise on the stage apron while a stagehand tugged the planks back into position.

Although the Met tried to market this Ring with a city-wide advertising blitz and Wagner's Dream an art-house "making-of" documentary, demand for tickets was nowhere near as strong as for the old production, a photo-realistic show by the German team of Otto Schenk and Gunther Schneider Siemssen.

The parterre story indicates that the Ring's place in the schedule will be taken by Der Fliegende Holländer and a new production of Rusalka, the Dvořák fairy-tale that has become a house favorite in recent years. Also, another Robert Lepage production, Saint-Francois d'Asisse may be nixed in favor of the theater's first presentation of L'Amour de Loin, an opera by the Finnish composer Kaija Saariaho. None of these changes have been confirmed.

Concert Review: A Day at the Races

2013-05-06T18:00:00.002-04:00

Maurizio Pollini plays Carnegie Hall.
by Paul J. Pelkonen

Preacher man: Maurizio Pollini played Beethoven at Carnegie Hall this Sunday.
Photo © Universal Classics.

The return of pianist Maurizio Pollini to the concert stage of Carnegie Hall this spring was one of the most eagerly anticipated events of the spring classical season. The Italian-born pianist had been forced to cancel appearences in 2011 and 2012. Adding to the excitement: the fact that Sunday's program featured the award-winning recording artist playing nothing but Beethoven: four of those piano sonatas dubbed the "New Testament" of the instrument.

Mr. Pollini started off with two of the most popular "name" sonatas, the Pathetique (No. 8) and the Waldstein. (No. 21.) These performances (on a special Steinway shipped to Carnegie Hall from Italy by Angelo Fabbrini, Mr. Pollini's favored piano tuner) were played in a hurried, manner, as if the soloist couldn't wait to send the instrument back.

Although the dramatic opening chords of the Pathetique gave way to a lush, singing tone in the opening grave, problems emerged in the fast section that followed. The headlong Allegro had two definite wrong notes, as if speed mattered more than accuracy. The famous central Adagio cantabile had a sweet, singing tone, evoking the operatic nature of Beethoven's writing. Mr. Pollini leaned heavily on the pedal throughout the last movement, giving the sonata a glissando texture that sounded foreign to the ear.

The Waldstein had problems too, stemming mainly from the barreling tempo and extensive reliance on the sustain pedal. The central Introduzione was played fast, again with a feeling not of urgency but of indifference, as if the great man could not be bothered with the finer details of this work. The transition to the last movement was swift and subtle, with the change in theme barely registering before the soloist was, once more, off to the races.

A paper insert in this concert's Playbill announced a program change: Mr. Pollini had decided to play Sonata No. 22 in F Major instead of No. 24 in F sharp. The altered program led to the first rays of light in that afternoon's performance, a radiant first movement contrasting the "masculine" staccato first subject with the more languid, "feminine" curves. Mr. Pollini took joy in weaving these two musical ideas together, creating a taut springboard for the Allegretto that followed.

Finally it was time for the last of the "name" sonatas on this program: No. 23 in F minor, otherwise known as the Appassionata. These three movements were Beethoven playing of the very highest caliber, precise and controlled with the music drawn in arcs of melody that seemed to sweep forth in a torrent of sound. The central movement was hushed and reflecitive, with gentle massage of each notes from Mr. Pollini's manicured fingers. The alarm-call that led to the final Allegro was played with power from the shoulders, with the flood of notes emerging in an outpouring of sound. Here at last was what the audience had come to hear.

Met with a thunderous ovation, Mr. Pollini returned for two encores. Both of these were Beethoven Bagatelles, light piano works written by the great composer for instructional purposes. In Mr. Pollini's sure hands, the poetry of these miniatures came through, carefully played with a sweet, singing tone from the specially ordered Steinway. It proved a most satisfying coda.

Concert Review: A Cellist's Last Song

2013-05-05T11:58:00.003-04:00

The Kronos Quartet returns to New York.
by Paul J. Pelkonen

The Kronos Quartet: Hank Dutt, Jeffery Zeigler, David Harrington, John Sherba.

The Kronos Quartet returned to Carnegie Hall's downstairs Zankel Hall on Friday night. This concert marks cellist Jeffrey Zeigler's last New York appearance with the ensemble; he is scheduled to leave Kronos later this year. Future lineup changes aside, the program offered what New Yorkers have expected of Kronos in the ensemble's four-decade history: cutting-edge new music delivered with precision and style.

Kronos performances are different. The Quartet prefer darkness for their audience, creating a cinematic atmosphere that demands total attention on the music. They play lit only by custom lighting designs that they set up before the concerts. There is some degree of amplification on their instruments, and many performances of new and modern works incorporate samples or pre-built electronics.

The concert opened with a world premiere: You Know Me From Here by composer Missy Mazzoli. This tripartite work took the form of a sophisticated musical journey towards what the composer describes as "home." This 20-minute trip took the form of keening melodic lines, scraped chords and sophisticated musical conversation between the instruments.

Next was one of Kronos' trademark song covers: in this case an arrangement (by Jacob Garchik) song "Flow" by New York experimental artist and musician Laurie Anderson. This song is drawn from Homeland, Ms. Anderson's most recent studio album. In this arrangement, the work was brief and atmospheric, with fascinating textures undulating in shimmering waves of sound.

The Kronos players then burned off the remaining oxygen in the room with the New York premiere of String Quartet No. 3 by the Russian composer Valentin Silvestrov. This is a minimalist work, but not in the same "repeat until it moves" school of American composers Philip Glass and John Adams. Silvestrov's work is inspired by Schoenberg's Six Little Piano Pieces and the aphoristic ideas of Anton Webern. This work's tiny movements were played pianissimo. With music played this quietly, the ears strain to hear theme, development and idea. The rewards are worth it, exquisite, microscopic sounds that are crystalline in structure, over seven brief, and very beautiful movements.

The second half of the evening featured the New York premiere of Aleksandra Vrebalov's Babylon, Our Own, with the quartet joined by clarinetist David Krakauer. Mr. Krakauer's presence altered the sound of the ensemble, adding elements of klezmer and folk-song to a rich musical stew. Tape was also used here, with mysterious voices engaged in various religious rituals (I heard Jewish, Christian, and Buddhist texts and I am sure there were others) providing background to the music. The clarinet's lines twisted among the strings. At one point, Mr. Krakauer doubling lines with violinist David Harrington as the others played brutal, slab-like chords.

The Kronos players offered an encore: Terry Riley's spectacular One Earth, One People, One Love from the British composer's longer work Sun Rings. This is a string quartet movement, with pre-recorded audio from NASA missions and a moving cello solo from Mr. Zeigler. It proved the perfect palate cleanser to an evening of interpretation, a needed reminder that new music does not have to be jarring or intimidating to be beautiful.

Concert Review: Winning the Bear

2013-05-04T16:46:00.000-04:00

Evgeny Kissin plays Carnegie Hall.
by Ellen Fishbein

The pianist Evgeny Kissin returned to Carnegie Hall on Friday night.
Photo © EMI Classics.

On Friday night, pianist Evgeny Kissin presented a program at Carnegie Hall that was a thoughtful reflection on the passage of time. Sticking close to the standard repertory, the pianist tracked the development of piano music from Haydn through the works of Beethoven, Schubert and Liszt.

The program opened with Franz Josef Haydn's E♭ Major Piano Sonata, a work that epitomizes the Viennese classical style. Haydn's crisp, almost regimented counterpoint did not constrain Mr. Kissin's playing. Each phrase seemed like a surprise. During each contrasting gesture, the pianist changed character rapidly, giving Haydn's music a new, almost contemporary flavor while staying true to its form and intimate character. As he played, Mr. Kissin never broke character. Even the pauses between movements were planned, expresing a distinct awareness and purpose. This was a mature, discerning interpretation of Haydn's music.

The next selection was Beethoven's final piano sonata, No. 32 in C minor, which represented the next leap forward in musical history. This sonata has only two movements. The first is fast and bracing, the second reverent and calm. Mr. Kissin brought a sincere, almost childlike interpretation, exploring Beethoven's dynamics with gusto. He shifted between fortes and pianissimos, painting from a broad palette. This youthful, unembellished performance challenged the audience to engage with the music directly.

Having visited 1790 with Haydn and 1822 with Beethoven, Mr. Kissin highlighted the stylistic shift that occurred in just five years with four of Franz Schubert’s 1827 Impromptus. As he contrasted Beethoven and Schubert’s styles, he also moved into a new artistic space. Mr. Kissin played the Schubert with a loving familiarity, seeming to invite the audience to peer in at him as if he were playing in a private salon. This performance lay somewhere between the maturity of the Haydn and the youthfulness of the Beethoven.

Mr. Kissin concluded with Franz Liszt’s Hungarian Rhapsody No. 12. In the short piece, he revealed a renewed ardor that had been only peripherally present in the other selections. His performance was ecstatic; still, Mr. Kissin did not lose his decisive control over the music. Mr. Kissin distinguished himself by playing accurately even during the most windswept, rapturous passages.

An explosive, universal standing ovation demanded several encores, and Mr. Kissin used them to continue to explore the same chronological window. Among his encores, he featured Liszt once again, alongside an introspective performance of Christoph Gluck’s “A Melody.” The passion and intergenerational appeal touched at least one young audience member: at the end of the evening, Mr. Kissin walked offstage with a teddy bear.

Concert Review: The Shame of a Nation

2013-05-03T17:38:00.000-04:00

The American Symphony Orchestra presents Hungary Torn
by Paul J. Pelkonen

The damage done to Hungary by the right-wing "Arrow Cross" movement and the Nazis
has forever scarred the country's cultural heritage. Photoshop by the author.

The horrors inflicted on Europe by the rise of fascism in the 1930s were not confined to Germany and Italy. On Thursday night, Leon Botstein and the American Symphony Orchestra used the work of five relatively obscure composers to explore the detriment of that political movement and the following Second World War on the development of music and arts in Hungary. Their goal: to shed much-needed light on these brilliant voices, silenced all too early.

The concert opened with Yizkor--In Memoriam by Ödön Partos, a Hungarian composer who survived the war to spend most of his later life as a violist in Israel. This is a powerful, pliant tone poem for large orchestra and solo viola, using that warm-toned instrument to express grief for the Hungarian Jews killed in the Holocaust. Soloist Péter Bársony played with rich, soulful tone, passionately accompanied by Dr. Botstein and the orchestra.

Heard next was an Overture by Lászlo Weiner, a promising concert pianist who was drafted into the Nazi war effort in 1944. He died in a Ukrainian labor camp. Weiner's work was richly orchestrated, suggestive of the light operas of Léhar or Suppe. The lush harmonies and old-world rhythms charmed the ear with nostalgia for a world before it went mad. This was the first performance of this work since its 1939 premiere.

Four vocal soloists (soprano Janice Chandler-Eteme, mezzo Jamie Barton, tenor Brian Cheney and baritone Leon Williams) with the Collegiate Chorale joined the ASO for the performance of Lázló Gyopar's Credo from the composer's much larger complete Mass. The setting of the text from the Latin mass revealed a curious, Brucknerian use of almost medieval harmonies over a heavy orchestra that changed tonal colors deliberatly, in blocks and shifts like the stops of a massive organ.

The orchestra was then joined by violinist Bárnabas Kelemen for the world premiere of Mihály Nádor's three-movement Violin Concerto. Mr. Kelemen's solo part was rich in passion and Magyar soul, supported by Dr. Botstein with plush harmonies and a vast orchestral tapestry. It is almost unbelievable that this work is so neglected: it lies squarely in the mode of late Romanticism. Unfashionable, perhaps but this was a piece that needed hearing, a major concerto whose neglect since it completion in 1942 borders on criminal.

The second half of the program featured the return of the four soloists and choir for the United States premiere of Erno Dohnányi's Szeged Mass. This is a rare 20th century choral setting of the Catholic liturgy, written in a late Romantic style that proves compelling in its simple delivery of the text. Unlike most concert versions of the Mass, Dohnányi chose to set the "Ordinary" sections of the mass (Kyrie, Gloria, Credo, Sanctus, Agnus Dei) along with the "Proper", sections that are specific to a certain religious feast or event

Dohnányi's setting of the Mass proved inventive, from the soaring transer of vocal line between the four singers in the Kyrie to the glowing, almost transcendent gloss on the Credo. The Credo permitted the composer to show the greatest versatility, changing orchestral and choral textures with each stanza of the long prayer before ending on an air of hushed mystery. The Agnes Dei was sung with fervor and passion Ms. Chandler-Eteme. The whole ended with a thunderous chorale for solo organ.

Minnesota Orchestra Lockout Goes "Fargo"

2013-05-03T15:27:00.001-04:00

Music Director Ösmo Vänskä threatens to walk.
by Paul J. Pelkonen

The overwhelming silence that has settled over the Minnesota Orchestra, locked out since September, broke earlier this week, as music director Ösmo Vänskä threatened to resign.

According to a story in the Minneapolis Star-Tribune, the resignation threat comes after a long five-month silence between the two sides: the musicians of the Orchestra and the Board. The specific issue is a set of scheduled Carnegie Hall concert next November, featuring a compete cycle of Sibelius symphonies.

Mr. Vänska wrote:

“I must make it clear, that in the case Carnegie Hall chooses to cancel the Minnesota Orchestra’s concerts this November, i.e. if they lose confidence in our ability to perform … then I will be forced to resign."

He continued that it was his belief that rehearsals for the New York concerts should ideally start on May 27.

Mr. Vänska is considered one of the world's authorities on Sibelius, and has recorded two complete cycles of the seven symphonies. Carnegie Hall has underlined the two-part Sibelius cycle (scheduled to start Nov. 2) as one of the major events of its 2013-2014 season.

The Minnesota lockout has been accompanied with very little in the way of progress. The major issue is management's demand for a 32% pay cut from the musicians, with accompanying reductions in benefits.

In a statement last Friday, the musicians said that they will retur to the bargaining table--only if the lockout is lifted. Musicians including principal clarinetist Burt Hara have already left, with Mr. Hara accepting an associate position with the Los Angeles Philharmonic.

The orchestra claims that it needs to slash $5 million in labor costs. The lockout also threatens to jeopardize a planned recording session in September, the month that marks the traditional start of business for most orchestras.

Obituary Jeff Hanneman (1964-2013)

2013-05-03T15:08:00.000-04:00

Slayer guitarist, songwriter died of liver failure.
by Paul J. Pelkonen

Guitarist Jeff Hanneman of Slayer, onstage with the band in 2011.
The damage from flesh-eating bacteria is visible on his right arm. Photo: Getty Images.

Guitarist Jeff Hanneman, founding member of the Los Angeles heavy metal band Slayer, died yesterday of liver failure. He was 49.

His death was reported on Slayer's official Facebook page:

Mr. Hanneman was one of the pioneering thrash band's principal songwriters, penning some of the band's signature songs. He was also a ferocious live performer, with a wild, skittering guitar style that reflected the nightmarish content of Slayer's lyrics.

The California native was one of the creators of the speed-metal style that made Slayer one of the most extreme bands of the '80s and beyond. Slayer's secret was to take the stylings of heavy metal and add the aggression of punk and hardcore, creating an uncompromising style of music that ignored radio and MTV. Their "take no prisoners" attitude extended to live shows, which resulted in the band being banned from concert venues like Madison Square Garden in 1991. (On a personal note, I was at that show.)

In 1985, Slayer released the album Reign in Blood. Clocking in at just 28 minutes, its ten songs led off with "Angel of Death", a Hanneman composition describing the tortures and horrors perpetrated by Dr. Josef Mengele, the notorious Nazi scientist. Accusations of anti-Semitism have been aimed at Slayer for the rest of their career, a charge that the band categorically denies.

In an interview, Hanneman said: "Nothing I put in the lyrics that says necessarily he (Josef Mengele) was a bad man, because to me, well, isn't that obvious? I shouldn't have to tell you that." Other Hanneman compositions included "Dead Skin Mask" (dealing with serial killer Ed Gein), "Reigning Blood" and "Psychopathy Red", the lead-off single from the band's 2009 release World Painted Blood.

Although Slayer continues to tour, Mr. Hanneman's activity with the band had been curtailed in recent years. While on vacation in Mexico, he was bitten by a spider. Left untreated, the spider-bite became infected with flesh-eating bacteria. Mr. Hanneman nearly lost his right arm.

Since his illness, his guitar chair in Slayer has been held by Gary Holt, of fellow California thrashers Exodus. Mr. Hanneman had recovered and begun a program of physical therapy to enable him to return to the rigors of regular touring. He had also begun to write songs contributing to the next Slayer record.

And in case you're wondering why a classical music blog devotes space to the guitarist from Slayer, listen to this:

With a Spring in Their Step

2013-05-03T12:03:00.000-04:00

A Preview of Spring For Music at Carnegie Hall.
by Paul J. Pelkonen

It's all about potential energy. Slinky™ is a trademark of Poof-Slinky Inc.

With the arrival of May in New York City, it's time for what has become an annual tradition: the Spring For Music Festival at Carnegie Hall. This six day event showcases orchestras from around the country playing repertory that is slightly outside the lines.

While past festivals have imported ensembles from Texas, Oregon and even faraway Alberta, the notorious belt-tightening across the music industry in the last year gives this year's slate a more local, East Coast feel. This year the orchestras are:

Baltimore Symphony Orchestra (Baltimore, MD)
Albany Symphony (Albany, NY
Buffalo Philharmonic (Buffalo, NY)
Detroit Symphony Orchestra (Detroit, MI)
National Symphony Orchestra (Washington, DC)

This year's festival opens with the other BSO, the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra directed by Marin Alsop. They'll start with John Adams' gorgeous Shaker Loops followed by the New York premiere of Concerto 4-3 by the important Philadelphia-based composer Jennifer Higdon. The concert ends with Prokofiev's Fourth Symphony.

New York is famous for its Philharmonic, but this festival offers the chance to hear two prominent ensembles from further upstate. On Tuesday night, the Albany Symphony will play a Suite from John Harbison's 1999 opera The Great Gatsby and George Gershwin's Second Rhapsody for Piano and Orchestra.

Wednesday marks the New York premiere of Morton Gould's Symphony No. 3. The next night, the Buffalo Philharmonic will present Ilya Murmets, the massive Third Symphony by the important but rarely heard Russian composer Reinhold Gliére.

The long-awaited New York return of the Detroit Symphony Orchestra (Thursday and Friday) provide a climax to the festival, with Leonard Slatkin conducting works by Rachmaninoff, Ravel and Kurt Weill's The Seven Deadly Sins, followed by a Friday night cycle of all four Charles Ives symphonies.

The National Symphony Orchestra ends the festival on Saturday with Slava, Slava! a tribute to the great cellist (and former NSO music director) Mstislav Rostropovich, a beloved figure whose nickname "Slava" is the same as the Russian word for "glory." The all-Russian program features whorls by Shschedrin, Schnittke and Shostakovich, whose Fifth Symphony will be conducted by NSO music director Christoph Eschenbach.

Concert Review: The Limits of Control

2013-05-02T12:51:00.000-04:00

Richard Goode plays the last three Beethoven sonatas.
by Paul J. Pelkonen

Ignore the hat: the pianist Richard Goode.
Photograph by Michael Wilson.

When a concert program is abstract in nature and of the utmost seriousness, writing a competent review becomes a challenge. Take, for example, Tuesday night's recital at Carnegie Hall, with pianist Richard Goode playing the last three sonatas of Ludwig van Beethoven. Mr. Goode's ability in this repertory is well known and his technique is universally respected. So what is the news quality, the element that separates this fine New York-bred soloist from all the other virtuosos treading the boards of our fair city's concert halls?

The answer: clarity. It was of immediate notice in Mr. Goode's performance of the Sonata No. 30. The ascending and descending runs of the introduction to the first movement had this quality: playful leaps in the right hand that were answered by a rhythmic figure in the left, played at exactly the same dynamic level. Mr. Goode's precise touch and wrist control conquered the chief challenge of the piano: controlling the loud-soft dynamic and giving every printed note an equal voice.

Dynamic differences emerged in the slow-building repetitions of the Prestissimo. Finally, the torrent of arpeggio runs erupted into a furious central section. This was followed by a delicate wind-down, with emphasis on the importance of the underlying harmonies. In the final Gesangvoll, one could not help but be drawn, fascinated to those Bach-like lower chords being played in support, a powerful, rumbling engine supporting the theme played at the upper end of the keyboard.

The Bach-like ideas come thick and furious in the Op. 31 Sonata, from the opening chords and trill that start the movement before leaping into some very 19th-century legato runs, played here with accuracy and grace. The following Allegro also has a hint of mockery for the 18th century with its starched-collar staccato chords, played with great gusto here by Mr. Goode. The bursting fireworks of notes (returning always to the top of the keyboard) point the way forward.

Mr. Goode achieved extraordinary color of tone in the short Adagio, playing the mysterious chords as if at a crossroads, seeming to dither on a single, repeated note before settling for a descending figure that hints at the recitative of the Ninth Symphony. A different, hymn-like idea emerged, before transforming into the last movement, a final fugue that brings the traveler safely home through the soloist's mastery of contrapuntal technique.

Part of the problem with playing a set like this is coming up with an encore. Mr. Goode's innovative solution: to start the second half of the evening with an amuse-bouche: six of Beethoven's eleven Bagatelles. Published among the composer's very last works for the piano (Op. 119) these are tiny, bite-sized pieces of musical thought designed to instruct the composer's pupils. As played here, these works (ranging from the expansive themes of No. 6, almost a sonata movement in its own right) to the ten-second frenzy of No. 10, they exerted considerable charm and humor. In the last a charming tune that ends with the soloist using the upper reaches of the piano to evoke the chiming of a music box.

The two movements of the last Sonata (No. 32) couldn't be more different. The first starts with a very Beethovenian motto theme, stern and repeated in the left hand to the point of obsession with its components, its working, its very nature as a repetitive theme examined, repeated, taken apart and repeated again. It contrasts with what follows, a breezy set of variations where the soloist's left hand appears to wander, creating what sounds suspiciously like jazz a century before that genre's birth. Mr. Goode played this last movement with subtlety, reverence and yes, swing when needed.

Opera Review: Fur is Murder

2013-05-01T17:28:00.000-04:00

Juilliard Opera presents The Cunning Little Vixen.
by Paul J. Pelkonen

The Vixen Sharp-Ears (left, standing center) instructs her brood as the Fox (Karen Vuong, right) looks on.
Photo by Nan Melville © 2013 The Juilliard School.

The unexpected renaissance of Czech opera at Juilliard continues with the Juilliard Opera's energetic, season-ending production of Leoš Janáček's The Cunning Little Vixen, seen April 30 at the Peter Jay Sharp Theater. This production, combining some of the best singers from the conservatory's upper and lower divisions, offers a fresh take on this beloved opera. The opera was performed in English and without intermissions.

Under the baton of Anne Manson, the Juilliard Orchestra played this score with relish and punch, putting bright energy into the folk dances and savoring Janáček's special brand of ear candy. The choreography (by Jeanne Slater) made use of the singers' energy and athleticism to keep the viewer's interest during the many long orchestral Pantomimes that the composer provided for set changes, contributing to this production's general sense of joy and celebration.

Emma Griffin's staging eliminates some of the traditional elements of this opera to create a more environmentally friendly approach. The set (by Laura Jellinek) eschews the usual mix of woodland and rustic buildings for a simple set: a long, white-paneled acting space with spare, woodsy furniture. The white panels echo the original newspaper comic strips that inspired the composer. It is riddled with doors and hidden passages, allowing the singers depicting birds, insects and of course, animals to emerge from nowhere to interact as needed. The less-is-more approach extends to the costumes, as bright clothes, patterned dresses and simple animal masks replace the usual mix of fur, feathers and insect wings.

This Spartan approach to the drama ensures that the cast takes center stage. And they're a strong bunch, led by the live-wire soprano Julia Bullock in the title role. She takes on the difficult role of the Vixen Sharp-Ears fearlessly, singing at the absolute top of her range her confrontations with the Chickens and the Badger. She shifts gears in Act II engaging in a warm, cooing duet when she meets Fox Golden-Stripe (Karen Vuong.) The chaotic sex and wedding scenes that follow are played with brisk, bright energy.

Ms. Bullock is matched in the lead by Aubrey Allicock, in the longer (and less gratifying) role of the Forester. This guardian of the woods emerges as the opera's other protagonist, from the opening scene (where he violates man's covenant with nature by capturing the Vixen) to the final scene of the opera where he gains a new understanding of man's relationship to nature. Mr. Allicock sang with a gruff, paternal baritone, making nothing of the fact that he is a good deal younger than most singers who tackle this role.

There were other standouts in the enormous cast. Bass Önay Köse doubled the roles of the Badger and the Priest, showing a secure lower end in his drunken, comic scenes with the Forester and the Schoolmaster (tenor Martin Bakari.) Some clever direction resulted in a novel solution for multiple bits of stage action that all need to happen in rapid succession--including the massacre of the Chickens in Act I and the climactic death of the Vixen at the hands of the poacher Harašta.

Ms. Vuong made an exceptional Fox, cocky and athletic. Mezzo Raquel Gonzáles was a very funny butch Rooster, commandeering a flock of Chickens in white negligees and blonde wigs. (The moment when the last chicken makes a point to willingly step into the Vixen's snare was a comic highlight.) Laura Mixter was strong as the Forester's Dog, proudly declaring "I'm a composer!" before admitting that her compositional efforts led to beatings and exile. Finally, a slew of promising young men and women made up the swarming animals of Janacek's imaginary forest, contributing life and vitality to a classic story that is, at it's heart, all about the passage of time.

Opera Review: Shipping Up to Boston

2013-04-30T15:39:00.000-04:00

Boston Lyric Opera mounts The Flying Dutchman.
by Paul J. Pelkonen

Boston Lyric Opera sailed boldly into treacherous waters this week with Der Fliegende Holländer ("The Flying Dutchman") at the Shubert Theater. This is the company's first Wagner production in two decades. and a rare chance for Bostonians to experience a fully-staged performance of one of that composer's major operas.

Adding salt to the dish: music director David Angus' decision to present the work in its original intended setting (Scotland) and to perform the 1841 critical edition of the score, using an orchestra featuring narrow-bore trumpets and period horns. (Wagner revised Dutchman four times in his life, and most performances today use an "assembly" score put together in 1896 thirteen years after the composer's death.)

Dutchman is the story of a phantasmagorical ship that makes port once every seven years so its captain can go a-courtin'. In Michael Cavanagh's deliberatly ambiguous production (using clever, spare sets b John Conklin and gorgeous digital ocean waves by Seaghan McKay) it's left to the viewer to decide whether the Dutchman (Alfred Walker) is really visiting land, or if it's all the neurotic dream of Senta (Allison Oakes) the daughter of a ships-captain who has been obsessed with the Dutchman and his legend all her life.

Ms. Oakes is the vocal star of this show, with a bright, keening soprano that soared over the roar and crash of the orchestra. She was a perfect picture of wild-eyed obsession, from her performance of the Ballad of the Dutchman to the character's final suicide. It was here that the decision to use Wagner's original "hard" ending paid dividends, ringing the curtain down on tragedy, not redemption.

Alfred Walker's intimidating stage presence and weighty bass-baritone were an apt fit for the title character. From the start of "Die frist ist um," Mr. Walker had a touch of the otherworldly with his long penetrating stares and resonant notes. Although one wasn't sure if his character was real, there was a touching despair to his confrontations with Senta, and real heartbreak in the final trio, sung and not shouted.

Senta's huntsman boyfriend ("George" in this version) is an ungrateful role, the earthly thread keeping her from flying after her beloved ghost captain. Tenor Chad Shelton displayed a fine, ringing instrument with a warm timbre and impressive, full high notes. As Senta's father Donald, Gregory Frank alternated between fatherly warmth and sheer venality as he planned to sell off his daughter for a handful of trinkets.

Although Wagner's opera requires great soloists, it is the crash-and-pound of the orchestra and the rumbustuous sea shanties of the chorus that make this show fly. Members of the BLO chorus, clad in rubber rainboots, stomped about on metal frameworks indicating the hills of their village or the deck of a ship. The Dutchman's "ghost chorus" was delivered from a catwalk high in the flies. creating an appropriate "spatial" effect. The women's chorus delivered the Spinning Scene beautifully, although they were gutting fish instead of spinning thread.

Concert Review: A Song for the Departed

2013-04-29T01:51:00.001-04:00

Bernard Haitink conducts Mahler at Symphony Hall.
by Paul J. Pelkonen

Camilla Tilling sings "Der Himmlische Leben" at Symphony Hall as Bernard Haitink
conducts the Boston Symphony Orchestra. Photo by Stu Rosner © 2013 Boston Symphony Orchestra.

Bernard Haitink has enjoyed a four-decade association with the Boston Symphony Orchestra, culminating in a successful term (1995-2004) as the orchestra's principal guest conductor. (He currently holds the title of Conductor Emeritus.) This week, Mr. Haitink returned to Symphony Hall for a program exploring the lighter repertory of two great symphonists: Franz Schubert and Gustav Mahler.

Now 84, Mr. Haitink continues to exhibit a calm, almost placid manner on the podium. This outward passivity is contradicted by his precise leadership, with clear, individual voicing of instruments, an ear for pin-point details and a skill at unveiling the quirks and hidden beauties of the most familiar score.

This program, heard Saturday evening, opened with a lithe account of Schubert's Fifth Symphony. Written when the composer was just 19, this is the symphony closest in spirit to the composer's major chamber works. It is also the most intimate, scored for strings, woodwinds and just one horn. Choosing to emphasize that intimacy, Mr. Haitink seated the players in a close, circular arrangement.

In the opening Sonata Allegro, Mr. Haitink emphasized the graceful arcs of melody that are a Schubert trademark. The slow movement was almost at a limpid stasis, with the impressionistic quality of dappled light. Warm cellos and violas led the way with delicate accompaniment from the winds. A loping Scherzo followed, its stately and very Viennese dance theme yielding to a Trio of shimmering beauty. The final Rondo was quick-footed and good-natured, very much in the model of the composer'ss hero Mozart.

Gustav Mahler's Symphony No. 4 is among this composer's most popular works, but its universal appeal belies a tortured, grim message hiding behind the melodic sweetness. Mahler designed this symphony to culminate in song: specifically "Der Himmlische Leben", a depiction of the delights enjoyed by children in the afterlife, frolicking in the vegetable gardens of paradise to the heavenly music of St. Cecilia.

The grim part (of course) is that those children are dead.

Mr. Haitink conducted the Fourth with a thorough understanding of that subtext, gearing the first three movements toward the expression of Mahler's ultimate intent. The first movement, trading off between a bold, almost naïve woodwind melody and a lilting, sad theme for the strings culminated in a mighty climax of trumpets that (oddly enough) anticipates the main theme of the composer's Fifth while also dropping references to the three that came before.

In the second movement, the evening's concertmaster picked up a second violin, tuned a step higher. The purpose: to play the demonic part of "Freund Hein," a demonic fiddler whose searing, jarring entries in the Scherzo, suggest a grim fate for those heaven-dwelling children. The slow third movement was finely wrought. Conducted very slowly, this slow-building Adagio might serve as a consolation to victims of the Boston Marathon attacks earlier this month, providing healing to the afflicted and comfort to the bereaved.

Soprano Camilla Tilling sang the solo part in the final movement, conducted again with a slow tempo and great seriousness of purpose from Mr. Haitink. The images in this song (drawn from Mahler's favorite source Das Knaben Wunderhorn are simple and child-like: the joys of a heavenly feast being prepared, the pealing bells (played on timpani and harps) of the choirs of heaven ringing softly out. As the final notes played, Mr. Haitink held up both hands for total silence. Whether this was out of respect for the departed or for Mahler himself, one cannot be sure.