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Monthly Archives: November 2009

That’s a bingo!

The Saturday night performance is often a special one, despite not being the finale in this series of concerts with the Boston Symphony Orchestra (BSO), which have featured Joshua Bell playing the wonderful Violin Concerto In D Major by Johannes Brahms. The premiere of this work was played by Brahms’ good friend and violinist Joseph Joachim with the Gewandhausorchester Leipzig. That night, Joachim played the piece along with the violin concerto of Ludwig van Beethoven, another highly celebrated piece in the standard repertoire for violin virtuosi. Unfortunately today, at least with the BSO, soloists only play one of usually three numbers, but in honesty, I can speak for myself when I say that an entire concert program featuring Bell would have been most welcome.

The other pieces in tonight’s performance were Debussy’s Prélude à l’Après-midi d’un faune and Stravinsky’s Firebird Suite (1945). The highlight of these pieces was the BSO’s masterful execution of the Infernal Dance of the Firebird. There is nothing like the majesty of the live performance, and among the pieces in Firebird, the Infernal Dance is quickly becoming my favorite, for its managed chaos, humor, and for its ability to exploit the full dramatic potential of a symphony orchestra. Only when every member of the orchestra is confident enough to react together can a performance like this be pulled off perfectly, as it was tonight. More than once, this piece brought conductor Yan Pascal Tortelier off of his feet in what was amusingly a ballet all his own. I gained appreciation for the Firebird Suite on this second live performance, but it will take the full ballet, I think, to make me a true fan.

Alas, the Brahms came and went all too quickly for me, but not without leaving an indelible mark on my understanding of the piece — again. Tuesday night’s performance especially gave me a new perspective on the Adagio, which remains emotionally unmatched in my mind, though beautiful in tonight’s performance. Bell started out the first movement somewhat rusty again, slightly lacking polish on certain albeit difficult chords and notes in the highest positions on the E. He recovered, I think, quicker tonight than he had on Tuesday, and it was largely a non-issue. It did sound like he made an early entrance on one of the final chords of the last movement, as the orchestra trailed behind him after their two measures of rests. Nevertheless, the story of tonight’s performance lies in Bell’s short bow techniques and his cadenza, which may well have been without flaw in execution.

I was particularly impressed with the cleanness of Bell’s spiccato on several occasions, though the bowing technique that stands out most in my mind occurred during the cadenza of the first movement, which I learned from the program notes to be his own. Filled with rich double stops that contrast with the ethereal quality of harmonics, Bell meticulously hints at Brahms’ first movement themes and only rarely states them outright. His harmonics had a sweet quality, and I suspect that one comment from someone later about his “thin tone” (not even close) had to do with the misunderstanding of this technique. I am fortunate to have heard this cadenza now twice, and I’m eager to hear a recording of it, if I can find one. Perhaps someone recorded the Friday afternoon performance, which I think was broadcast on WGBH here in Boston. Of all of the cadenzas for this piece I have heard, I think I genuinely favor this one, more than even the Heifetz cadenza that is echoed by Vadim Repin on his recent recording of the concerto. To be able to hear it on demand would be very valuable to me, especially if there exists a transcription somewhere outside Bell’s own head!

It is said that Brahms made some “corrections” to the piece after Joachim’s premiere of it in 1879, and I do not know if the “original” has survived, especially in the hands of the composer himself, who was notorious for destroying works (and letters) that he did not feel met his high standards of quality. To be able to hear that piece is slightly more than a historical novelty to the fan, but I sincerely hope that Bell’s cadenza does not become a similar footnote in the annals of an obscure history of this timeless piece of music.

If ever the recording of tonight’s performance is heard, there are two distinct and possibly embarrassing contributions that I’ve made to it. No, I was not the guy who clapped early immediately following the Infernal Dance (well before the end of the piece). Rather, as it is with some regularity, I may have started the applause following the Brahms, and there’s some fool who shouts “Encore” a couple of times at the end. Ahem.

The encore happened.

Probably ten percent of the audience had already left by this point (never, ever leave before the end of a sporting event, good movie, or concert), and Bell took the stage, tuned briefly, and made a statement to the audience about how Bach or Brahms would be appropriate here, though I did not hear his entire message from the orchestra 27th row stage left. Bell decided against Bach or Brahms, much to my disappointment, and proceeded to play a very serious solo of Souvenir d’Amérique … that descends into the classic and much loved tune Bingo. As in, “there was a farmer had a dog and Bingo was his name-o. B-I-N-G-O ….” The lighthearted but fancifully colored tune was perhaps the most hilarious encore one could imagine. I can’t help but think he was gently ribbing my calls for an encore by following up the Brahms with Bingo the Dog, but hey, how many people can say they heard Joshua Bell play Bingo the Dog? I am sure he’s well aware that he caused a room full of grown adults to leave Symphony Hall for perhaps the first time in history whistling not a serious classical work but, yes, Bingo the Dog. There was something befitting with the now grown but boyish Joshua Bell playing Bingo the Dog, as his trademark mop of hair bounced eagerly on his expression of the theme, much like one might imagine the piece’s subject might on occasion. (It just dawned on me that absolutely nothing happens in Bingo the Dog but a repetition of the fact that it was some farmer’s dog by that name.) It was a lighthearted end to a wonderful concert, and I hope he enjoyed himself as much as we most certainly did. Besides making a fan out of his encore piece, his concerts have allowed me to see the Brahms performed live now twice, with my beloved BSO. It’s unclear when I will next be able to hear the Brahms performed, so I value these experiences greatly. Future listens, live or recorded, now are equipped with a completely new appreciation and experience.

Delight in Joshua Bell’s Brahms

Among Joshua Bell’s recorded works, I have heard several excellent interpretations, including some that I would count among my favorites. His technique, tone, and phrasing engage me in a music in a way only a few musicians can. To see him walk out onto the stage this evening at Symphony Hall, to play one of my favorite pieces with the Boston Symphony Orchestra led by Yan Pascal Tortelier was an instant delight, in anticipation of what was to come. Together, they performed the Brahms Violin Concerto in D Major, Op. 77. It was my first time to see it live, and what a wondrous occasion it proved to be.

The grand sound of the BSO in the hall is best experienced from center first balcony. I realized this during Stravinsky’s Firebird Suite (1945) — that the dynamics were so palpable from this vantage point gave me a profoundly new appreciation of Symphony Hall. First Balcony, Row A, Seat 21. One day I might have to purchase that seat. In the meanwhile, I was more than happy to make due with Row C, Seat 18. I felt as if I lost nothing of Bell’s solo violin from this location, though there is something to be said for having a seat close to C18 in the orchestra, where the soloist(s) are larger than life and the sound is completely enveloping.

From the first sweet note of the bassoon, the BSO moved through the first passage leading to the first solo entrance some 87 bars in with energy, culminating with a build up for Bell’s entrance that nearly felt like the end of a movement instead of the beginning. Bell entered passages grandly, though it was clear in a very few spots that passion would defeat accuracy on intonation of some impossibly high sections and on the execution of a few of the earlier chords. He seemed to be teetering precariously on the edge of control in a few fleeting moments on the highest of forte sections near the beginning. It did not detract but for a frightful moment, however, and Bell quickly held his composure and proceeded to command the first movement brilliantly. Upon anticipation at the cadenza, the hall fell as silent as I’ve ever heard it at capacity, as we held our collective breaths through the sheer magnificence of Bell’s perfect execution of his solo. I do not know the origins of the cadenza (whether he wrote it or if it was part of some standard repertoire), but I am dying already to hear it again and again. It challenged one’s understanding of the central themes, weaving in and out of familiarity and adding a new depth with colorful chords that tricked one into hearing a fullness from the solo instrument that was unexpected. The movement finishes shortly after, and I had to actively withhold my applause, though it most certainly would have been warranted in that space, especially in consideration of the cadenza.

Of course, I am least familiar with the second movement Adagio, but this performance gave me a new appreciation of the beauty in the theme, first conveyed by the purity of the oboe, to be later followed by the solo violin. Violinist Pablo de Sarasate reportedly had little patience in waiting for the oboe to finish this theme, but had he been here tonight, perhaps he would have missed his own entrance in awe of the song. The theme is pleasant, contemplative, and the sweetness of Bell’s tone throughout the Adagio moved me more than any other performance I’ve witnessed — ever. I won’t soon forget how I finally came to understand the Adagio this evening.

And yet, his performance confidence must have only grown, as the gypsy third movement was vibrant; it was clear to me that Bell was enjoying himself on stage throughout. The performance marked for me the hallmark of the Brahms by which all others will be undoubtedly compared. Even though, in a few sections, Bell and the BSO’s interpretation was slightly different than one I prefer, mostly in the choice of tempo and some of the articulation, certainly nothing was egregiously out of place, and Bell’s execution and tonal maturity were on full display tonight. It would be unfair to the Tchaikovsky to allow tonight’s excellent performance cause the Brahms to usurp it for absolute top violin concerto spot in my mind, but as soon as I was unsure how to gain further depth into the music of Brahms, this concert set me completely straight. I look forward to a lifetime of hearing equally excellent performances of this piece, starting with this Saturday night, with completely clear expectations of what to look forward to in Bell and the BSO’s performance.

Joshua Bell comes to the BSO

Joshua Bell will be performing tonight, Friday (matinee), Saturday, and next Tuesday in a series of concerts with the Boston Symphony Orchestra. I broke down and decided to go at least this Tuesday and Saturday’s shows, since he will be performing one of my two favorite violin concertos: Brahms, D Major, Op. 77. Instead of waiting in line for an hour or more for the certainly popular rush tickets tomorrow night, I decided to buy a $20 under-40 ticket. Among my seat choices was an excellent orchestra seat, dead center in row Z, or a third row first balcony seat, also in the center. While I’d rarely pass up that wonderful orchestra seat, I’ve seen all but one show from the orchestra and have not spent any time on the first balcony. Since all of my rush and student tickets so far have been in the orchestra, I opted for the first balcony seat, where I will certainly have another unique perspective on the power of Bell’s solo violin carrying throughout Symphony Hall. On Saturday night, my seats are stage left orchestra seats, so it will be an interesting experiment in acoustics to see how similar (but not identical) performances sound from different seats. I can already hear the low hum of the side vents in those orchestra seats, however ….

Unfortunately, Sir Andrew Davis was not able to be with us for this series of concerts, and Yan Pascal Tortelier will serve as his replacement in his BSO debut at Symphony Hall. Along with this change, instead of Igor Stravinsky’s Symphony in Three Movements, the BSO will do Stravinsky’s 1945 Firebird Suite, which I think will be quite a treat.

I plan on attending the pre-concert talk on Tuesday that will be given by Elizabeth Seitz, but I am not planning on staying for the signing of Bell’s new album, At Home With Friends. It’s not that I do not wish to meet Mr Bell, which I would like to do perhaps one day, but there’s something incredibly objectionable to me to stand in line in order to meet someone and have them scribble their name onto the liner notes of a CD. There is only one celebrity reporter in Florida with whom I would love to spend time at any opportunity.

I have several of Bell’s albums and particularly enjoy his performances of Tchaikovsky’s Violin Concerto (my other favorite) and Kreisler violin pieces. Having never heard him play the Brahms, I will be interested in his and the BSO’s interpretation.

Update: I’ve written concert reports for both the first Tuesday and the Saturday performances.

NEC Chamber Orchestra’s talents

Among Boston’s musical offerings are several excellent music schools such as Berklee, the Boston Conservatory, and the New England Conservatory (NEC). The NEC String Chamber Orchestra recently performed a free concert at the beautiful Jordan Hall, just down the street from our beloved Symphony Hall. In many ways, the hall shares many of the acoustical trademarks. I’ve seen just a handful of concerts here, mostly Boston Symphony Chamber Players, but I thought I would try and hear what some of the other orchestras in town were doing. The NEC Chamber Orchestra was self-directed with no conductor and appears to be comprised of young musicians, perhaps younger than college age, but I do not know this for sure. For this concert, I sat in my favorite seat in the hall, which is dead center but slightly raised from the first section. (Yes, I could tell you the seat number, but I’d prefer to keep it to myself!)

The group played Alberto Ginastera’s Concerto for Strings and Astor Piazolla’s Cuatro Estaciónes Porteñas (Four Seasons). Both are relatively modern pieces that I had not heard before. My initial expectation favored the Piazolla, which would be confirmed by the concert. The Ginastera was nevertheless interesting, and I was glad that the group performed such an interesting piece that seemed in some sections to pit the violins against the lower frequency stringed instruments in a back-and-forth exchange that was at times complementary and other times on the verge of violent. At some point, I peered up at the reflective ceiling over the hall, and watching the distorted image of the orchestra playing in the ceiling added to the eerie quality of the piece.

The Piazolla Four Seasons was a great piece, especially as it featured four of the young violinists who all had clearly different personalities that seemed to fit the season to which they were assigned. The piece starts in the summer, and since this is Buenos Aires, one can imagine a sweltering atmosphere, which is well-captured in the music. The soloist here was dressed for the tango and commanded the stage quite brilliantly — a showperson for sure. I believe it was autumn that was fittingly played by another girl who appeared much calmer, with perhaps a hint of shyness that again seemed to fit the season well. All four of the soloists, along with the orchestra as a whole, were clearly talented musicians. Their passion was on display, and though there were a few noticeable technical miscues, these are easily curable and did not detract from the overall enjoyment.

To have a young artistic community like NEC who perform regularly for free is an under-appreciated sector of Boston arts, especially at their level of quality. I look forward to a great season of their performances.

BSO at its best

The Boston Symphony Orchestra (BSO) just finished a series of performances featuring BSO Conductor Emeritus Bernard Haitink, with music from Claude Debussy, Jacques Ibert, and Johannes Brahms. Flutist Sir James Galway performed Ibert’s Flute Concerto No. 1, an interesting piece featuring an instrument that for me has a pretty limited role in the orchestra and a limited dynamic range. While I was glad to hear a new piece highlighting the flute as the solo instrument, I was not particularly excited by the piece, admittedly. I am sure that others, especially fellow flute players, can appreciate the virtuosity in the performance, though the audience reception was surprisingly tepid. About half the audience rose in ovation at the conclusion of the piece, and while there were no audible appeals for the encore, one was performed anyway — the first encore I’ve ever witnessed at Symphony Hall in a year. Regardless, Galway’s distinguished and long career and his 70th birthday were no doubt causes for celebration.

I didn’t like the Debussy Nocturnes for Orchestra. I associate him with Clair de Lune and have not as yet explored his work as a serious composer, though this was a disappointing introduction. I liken the nocturne or other symphonic songs and tone poems as somewhat free form, unstructured compositions. They’re a half-step sharper than modern art whose only rules often seem to be that there are none. But within the relatively few rules of the forms of symphony, sonata, or concerto, to name a few, such richness can be explored. I admit fully that this statement makes me wary, as I am not claiming something regal about the currently existing forms, and I do not at all exclude the possibility of there being a modern piece that I find intriguing; however I have yet to hear one. I also have had limited exploration in songs/tone poems, so perhaps I just haven’t come across enough yet.

I sat through these pieces as an entrance fee to Brahms’ Symphony No. 1 in C Minor, Op. 68. Often it is noted that the use of C minor was homage to the great symphonist Ludwig van Beethoven. I talk a lot about the Beethoven egg that amusingly adorns the Symphony Hall stage, but again I couldn’t help but think that the performance of large scale symphonic works marked the grandest of the BSO repertoire. Their ability to move from the softest of single pizzicato notes to the full forte of the percussion-weighted orchestra conveys a passion and expressiveness that only music can bring to me. I’ve enjoyed few pieces by the BSO more than this, and it reminds me that no electronically reproduced music will ever fully capture the experience of listening to a live group.

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