Out West Arts: Performance at the end of the world

Most of the great U.S. orchestras have hit the road this season. And while not all of them have made it to the L.A. Philharmonic’s regular stage (Orange County’s Philharmonic Society has had a much greater success rate there), the New York Philharmonic under its recently appointed music director Alan Gilbert arrived in town Wednesday with one of the two programs they’ve been touring with. Gilbert’s time in New York so far has continued to show great promise, although it hasn’t always been delivered on. He’s injected more 20th-century and newer music into the seasons' programming, but it isn’t quite as comprehensive of a commitment for the entire organization to this repertoire as some might have hoped. There’s still an awful lot of the everyday to be heard in Avery Fisher Hall, despite some extremely well received performances of Ligeti’s Le Grand Macabre. And the orchestra’s summer appearances at the Park Avenue Armory with Stockhausen’s Gruppen are already the talk of the town.

So when the L.A. program includes Dvorak’s Carnival Overture and Tchaikovsky’s Symphony No. 4 along with the recently premiered Piano Concerto by Magnus Lindberg for Yefim Bronfman, one couldn’t be blamed for wanting a bit more. But then again, any music can make a great program in the right hands. Just take the Mariinsky Orchestra’s performance of the late Tchaikovsky Symphonies in Southern California in 2011. Gergiev and his players produced surprisingly dramatic, demanding performances of some of the most familiar symphonies to a classical music audience. And fair or not, that shadow continued to hang over the New York Philharmonic’s performance to my ear on Wednesday. Gilbert did get a strong, passionate performance from his players. It didn’t skimp on glossy polish at all and could sometimes even be a bit too much with some of the horn players sounding like they were still trying to play against the dead Avery Fisher Hall acoustics instead of the easy, warm Walt Disney Concert Hall. When a cell phone went off in the silence immediately following the second movement, Alan Gilbert looked around for the offending source of the noise with a disparaging mock-frustrated shrug of the shoulders referencing his recent scolding of a patron in the audience with a cell phone going off in a performance of Mahler's Symphony No 9 earlier this year - an event that made a lot of non-music oriented headlines as well.

Of course, the main course for the night was the new Piano Concerto from the N.Y. Phil’s Composer-in-Residence Magnus Lindberg. Lindberg is no stranger to the L.A. Phil stage either and considering what a good friend Mr. Bronfman has been, you’d could be forgiven for forgetting for a moment that it wasn't our beloved L.A. players onstage. The concerto itself is rather a throw back to music of the mid-20th Century; sort of a concert equivalent of a Mad Men episode. It's tonal and rather accessible throughout and surprisingly unvaried over its three movement and thirty some minutes. I wouldn't go so far to say that it was eager to please, but it also wasn't out to make any waves churning along rather blandly until Bronfman's final knuckle-buster of a cadenza in the last movement. Suddenly his hand were everywhere. And wherever they went on the keys it was loud. But his remarkable virtuosity and its rather forceful presentation in the home stretch didn't quite make this a piece I'm dying to hear again soon. Though certainly the lovely New York Philharmonic, Mr. Gilbert, and Mr. Bronfman are always welcome on the West Coast and for them, we are counting the days.

Labels: New York Philharmonic

I spent my first 24 hours or so in New York the weekend mostly at Lincoln Center. I wasn’t alone. After seeing The Metropolitan Opera’s spectacular production of Glass’ Satyagraha when it opened, I returned for another viewing. It was a particularly emotional performance and even more intense than I remember. Richard Croft, who sang Gandhi, sounded a little under the weather, but he, like the rest of the cast, were totally invested. Upon leaving the house, I saw the 200 or so people behind a barricade standing along Columbus Avenue outside of the plaza as part of the Occupy Wall Street protest movement. According to numerous other sources, Glass himself and other artists such as Laurie Anderson were there, but I didn’t see any of them as I left. Given that there were more exiting audience members on the plaza than protestors supposedly being kept out of the same area, the whole scene came off as arbitrary and unfocused with people pretty much going where they wanted as a handful of police officers looked on.

The revolution had apparently moved on by the next morning. I had returned to the plaza and Avery Fisher Hall for a performance from the New York Philharmonic led by conductor Daniel Harding. The program consisted of the Deryck Cooke version of Mahler’s 10th Symphony. It’s a piece still met with some raised eyebrows in that Mahler had not completed the work before his death and had requested the sketches and drafts be burnt in the event of his death. But you know Alma. Over the intervening years, a number of folks took a crack at completing the other movements of the symphony besides the well-known Adagio. Cooke’s version from the early 1970s has gotten a fair amount of traction. Its advocates have included Simon Rattle, so given that Rattle’s one-time protégée Harding is leading the work’s first NY Philharmonic performance in 25 years, it seems logical. Harding doesn’t exude the kind of personal charisma from the stage so in demand from conductors his age these days. And he’s not beyond a tepid, overly polished performance as evidenced by his appearances with the Dresden Staatskapelle last year on tour in the U.S.

But Friday’s performance was excellent with Harding tapping into a very Mahlerian sound whether or not the music being performed was unquestionably his. Harding’s biggest strength was giving the work a sense of unity. When he reached the Finale, admittedly a very different point than the opening Adagio, there was a sense of things coming full circle, fading into the distance much as the work creeps up from the distance to begin with. There was excellent and well-managed contrast with Harding eliciting delicate tender playing in the wake of thundering crescendos. The numerous tempo changes sounded like second-nature to Harding and he proved masterful at maintaining tension through pauses particularly in the lead up to the finale. I’ll leave the rest to your own discovery. The show repeats one more time on Saturday night if you’re in town.

Labels: New York Philharmonic

Lorin Maazel, Deborah Polaski and the New York Philharmonic
Photo: mine 2008

Sometimes, it’s all about your expectations. Saturday’s a good example where two performances left me with very different impressions – each quite in contrast to what I thought they might. On the good news side was the New York Philharmonic’s last of four concert performances of Strauss’ Elektra. While I love Strauss, I do not love the orchestra’s music director Lorin Maazel and my prior experiences with him have been highly variable. The cast was first rate and very experienced in these roles including Deborah Polaski as Elektra, Jane Henschel as her mother Clytemnestra, and Anne Schwanewilms as Chrysothemis. But despite my reservations, it was a barn-burning performance from Maazel and the orchestra. Both detailed and urgent, the performance was mesmerizing, holding the audience rapt for the single act work. Polaski may not be the warmest voice, but like Waltraud Meier’s amazing Isolde from Friday night, there is a lot to be said for knowing a role so well that it feels lived in. Polaski is searing with rage throughout. Schwanewilms and Henschel matched her intensity creating a rich and wonderful evening.

Felicity Palmer as the Countess
Photo: Ken Howard/Met 2008

Earlier in the afternoon, however, the Metropolitan Opera had a much harder time selling a work that may have looked better on paper. It was the final performance in the current run of Tchaikovsky’s The Queen of Spades under the baton of Seiji Ozawa making his first appearance at the Met in over a decade. At the center of this painfully dull production was a wellloved, but struggling Ben Heppner. He’s been plagued with health problems all year and after missing the majority of performances of Tristan in the spring here in New York, he successfully made all of his appearances as Ghermann. However, his absence may have been preferable under the circumstances. On Saturday he was again cracking and faltering throughout, though the audience did get a “please excuse my illness” announcement at the start of the second act. Set against this was Maria Guleghina who seems a bit vocally heavy and extreme for the role of Lisa. Nothing here ignited in any way and the dark, dull black and white production from Elijah Mushinsky only exacerbated these problems. There were a few bright spots though. Felicity Palmer continues to be a strong asset for this house (indeed, houses everywhere) and her Countess was chilling. Mark Delavan is always a pleasure to hear, and Saturday was no exception. Seiji Ozawa led the Met orchestra in a really beautiful performance, but the odds were against him with the cast on stage.

Labels: Met opera reviews 08/09, New York Philharmonic