I cannot recall a time when I did not know the name Yo-Yo Ma. For someone who played classical violin, I suppose it is difficult to avoid coming across the famous cellist’s name, but it never dawned on me that there are a large number of people, of all degrees of education, who have not heard of Yo-Yo Ma. So I definitely took it personally when I had immense trouble finding someone to go to Ma’s performance with the Boston Symphony Orchestra (BSO) this week. An unfortunately string of events transpired such that I was nearly stuck with an extra orchestra seat, but luckily my friend AL was free and, after searching for “Yo-Yo Ma” on the Internet, decided to join me.
Certainly there was some anticipation associated with my first time hearing Ma live. My brother has seen him twice, and we sent my parents to see him just this past year. Out of my immediate family, I was the only one who had not seen him perform live, and as soon as I saw his name on the schedule for this BSO season, I got seats in the orchestra section, about 30 rows back and stage left.
In the past few months, I had ended up in a cello concerto phase, listening to Pablo Casals, Jacqueline du Pré, and others perform the Saint-Saëns, Lalo, Dvorak, Elgar, and many other cello concertos. This led me to a familiarity with the first two of Haydn’s three or four cello concertos, which was good timing considering that Ma was set to play Haydn’s first cello concerto, the only one that appears to be undisputedly attributed to him. I can find evidence of three of the four cello concertos, and it is third that seems to be lacking information, for reasons that remain unclear to me. Among the three, the so-called Second Concerto, in D Major (Hob VIIb/2) is my favorite. Nevertheless, I was pleased to find out that I was familiar with the First Concerto in C Major (Hob VIIb/1).
Ma spiritedly appeared on stage with what I believe was his Davidov Stradivarius cello, and he genuinely looked pleased to perform. There was no music or stand for him, and he took his place among the reduced strength orchestra, with conductor Ton Koopman. The solo part for the Haydn does not start for a few bars, and yet Ma looked like he was completely involved in his playing, which caused me a moment of pause before realizing what was happening: Ma was air bowing or lightly playing the entire cello part! He enjoyed playing so much that he wanted to be constantly playing. Later I would be slightly disappointed that he did not join the cello section in the orchestra for the remaining pieces. When his solo started, however, the sound that he managed to coax from his cello was something spectacular to behold. The sound was truly effortless, the Davidov clearly responsive. It was the smoothest sound I had ever heard from a cello before, and it was so beautiful that I now wonder if that was what a cello should sound like. Granted, the Haydn is an admittedly polite piece, so it’s not like Ma would be reaching down into the belly of the instrument to conjure up the throes of passion. But nevertheless, there was never any grit or biting in the response, even on staccato passages — they were as noted. It is easy to attribute this to a combination of the bow and the instrument via the player, and I’m very curious about what bow he chose for the evening’s performance. In any case, while I’ve enjoyed Ma’s recorded catalogue very much and have known people who have met him personally, his excitement for the music, even when he wasn’t really playing, was contagious. The performance made me a fan.
I lament again that this piece was not the most dramatic or thematically interesting to me as, say, the Lalo or the Elgar. It would have been nice to hear Ma take on the Roccoco variations of Tchaikovsky, the closest he ever came to writing a proper cello concerto, apparently. While I’ve heard a couple of recordings of his interpretation of the Brahms’ Double Concerto, it would certainly be a dream to hear him perform that live. Especially the fireworks of the third movement would be interesting to hear on his cello, in contrast to the sensibilities of the Haydn.
In fact, it was not just the Haydn Cello Concerto that was straightforward and nice. The small orchestral ensemble performed Haydn’s Symphony No. 98 and CPE Bach’s Symphony in G Major, all of which elicited a similar reaction from me. These were pleasant pieces that were surprisingly uninteresting to me, a trend that could be summarized by my greater interest in Romantic era music. It’s not at all to say that there isn’t a solemn or ethereal quality that can be present in Baroque or Classical pieces, but the Romantic era was all about drama and overwhelming intensity, which are more welcome in art than in personal relationships!
The Schubert Unfinished Symphony is reflective of this. It was my first encounter with the Schubert, and I was not expecting it, making it the evening’s gem. In my head, I can only imagine how the final two movements might have unfolded, and it’s a terrible shame that the piece ends with no apparent sense of resolution.
I did not stand in line for rush tickets for the final performance on Tuesday, though I’m already partially regretting the decision, since I don’t know when I’ll next be able to hear Yo-Yo Ma and the Davidov. The sound of it resonates with me, and it’s made me eager to pay closer attention to the sound of other cellos. Of course it takes both a magician and a willing rabbit to make the trick work, but together, they were quite entrancing.
