
But I did get the nagging feeling that perhaps something was missing, even in this most interesting work on the evening’s program. The rich, certain sound of the Cleveland players is much what you would expect from the legendary orchestra. But conductor Welser-Möst sometimes exhibited a certain rigidity of pacing and overall lack of drama. He’s a particularly curious maestro with a great deal of physical restraint on the podium. It’s tempting, though likely unfair, to assume this physical restraint translates directly his musical interpretations. But I couldn’t help feeling timidity plagued much of the rest of the program. The evening started with Mendelssohn’s Symphony No. 3 where the orchestra sounded polished with a lovely rich string sound. But the performance was flat and surprisingly uninvolved. That’s one thing with Mendelssohn, but the same sort of abject stance is harder to take when in comes to Shostakovich. The finale of the evening was the Russian composer’s Symphony No.6, three movements with all the grandiose sorrow and maniacal speed associated with his best work. Welser-Möst dug in here to a much greater degree for a performance that was emphatic if not at all marked by the kind of folk sensibility one commonly gets from Russian ensembles. The performance worked mostly, but it had the feeling of poetry translated from another language, somehow a step removed in the current context. Of course, I could pontificate about how this performance does or doesn’t relate to the many controversies that have swirled around the Cleveland Orchestra in recent years, but that kind of analysis is really rather facile in the end. This is a single performance and has all the real successes and failures real single performances have. The orchestra is still very much embedded in their familiar legacy of superior sound and they can play the heck out of many things including an important piece of recent music.
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