Mahler Symphony No. 6 – New York Philharmonic Review

New York Philharmonic
Alan Gilbert, conductor
Avery Fisher Hall, New Yrok, NY
October 1, 2010

New York Philharmonic led by Alan Gilbert-Photo Credit: Stephanie Berger

In 2009, the New York Philharmonic, America’s oldest orchestra, departed from its longtime tradition of engaging venerable European Music Directors, and appointed 42-year-old Alan Gilbert, the first native New Yorker to hold the post. Though he had established himself in previous appearances, his comparative youth seemed to cause some misgivings, which were dispelled by his very successful inaugural season. Now his performance of Mahler’s Sixth Symphony has convinced all who heard it that New York City has set its own homegrown star on the musical firmament.

Comparisons are notoriously odious, but it was impossible to avoid contrasting, even unconsciously, Gilbert’s approach with that of the two conductors of the Vienna Philharmonic, on display the same week. The period-style-influenced Harnoncourt seemed intent on proving a scholarly point, the charismatic Dudamel on proving himself; Gilbert was intent on serving the music and communicating his love for it.

Watching him conduct is a pleasure. He never exaggerates or calls attention to himself, making his  gestures fit the music without acting it out, and, however exciting or emotional the moment may be, his beat remains perfectly clear. Conducting mostly from memory, he knows the music down to the smallest detail, and responds to it with total involvement.

An articulate speaker and writer, Gilbert has sometimes addressed the audience before a concert to introduce the music to be performed; this time, he discussed it in the printed program, focusing on the conductor’s responsibility to make interpretive choices and decisions.

Mahler’s Sixth Symphony is beset by uncertainties. He kept changing his mind about the order of the two middle movements, and about the number of hammer-strokes in the Finale. Supposedly intended to represent the blows of Fate, Mahler originally wrote three, then eliminated the third as too final; conductors have made their own decisions ever since. For reasons explained in his essay, Gilbert opted to place the slow movement second, the Scherzo third, and to include the third hammer stroke.

But there are choices to be made in all Mahler symphonies, which, though less obvious to the listener, are no less crucial to the interpretation. Mahler was a superb contrapuntalist and orchestrator; he wove a dense, complex texture of many independently moving lines and voices. They all seem equally important in theory, but in practice, it is obviously impossible to make them all equally prominent; conductors constantly have to decide which should be highlighted. This is one reason why a familiar symphony can sound almost like a new piece in a different conductor’s hands: one hears lines that one never heard before.

 Gilbert again demonstrated his proven ability to make the densest scores transparent, bringing out many usually obscured lines without entirely suppressing the rest. Surprisingly, one significant detail got lost: the changes from major to minor that magically turn sunlight into darkness.

Mahler often changes color by distributing melodic lines between different instruments; connecting them without interrupting their continuity creates another challenge for conductors and orchestras. The Philharmonic musicians handled it admirably: their take-overs were totally imperceptible, and all the solos were marvelous. Altogether, the orchestra has never sounded better or more inside the music; the audience was drawn in from first note to last. But the performance was Alan Gilbert’s triumph: having made all the right choices, he paid meticulous attention to every detail, yet sustained his grasp of the whole, infinitely complex work, its manifold mood and character-changes, and its towering climaxes – a truly impressive achievement.

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Sibelius’ Violin Concerto, Joshua Bell and the New York Philharmonic in Review

New York Philharmonic
Alan Gilbert, conductor
Joshua Bell, violin
Avery Fisher Hall, New York, NY
October 6, 2010

Joshua Bell- Photo Credit: Marc Hom

 Alan Gilbert, Music Director of the New York Philharmonic, started the new season with two contrasting works, one familiar, one unfamiliar: Richard Strauss’ lush, exuberant “Don Juan” and Hindemith’s glittering, humorous “Symphonic Metamorphoses on Themes by Weber.” Counting both among his favorites, he programmed them on the Gala Opening, on the first set of subscription concerts, and again two weeks later, but paired them each time with different works, including two virtuoso violin concertos: the Mendelssohn with Itzhak Perlman and the Sibelius with Joshua Bell.

One can assume that the concerts were attended by mostly different audiences, but the intrepid souls who heard all three programs were rewarded not only by some fabulous fiddling, but also by the chance to compare three different performances of the same works.

The latest program began with Debussy’s atmospheric “Prelude to the Afternoon of a Faun,” written 1892-94. Inspired by a poem of the same title by Stéphane Mallarmé published in 1876, the music depicts a faun passing a languorous afternoon in dreams and reveries. A true “tone painting,” it seems made of airy, dappled sunlight and fleeting shadows. The orchestration shimmers and glows with shifting, glittering colors; sinuous, elusive melodies wind through the texture; harp glissandi suggest leaves stirred by the breeze. Every instrumental timbre, singly and in combination, contributes to the sensuous, seductive effect. The piece, a test for a virtuoso orchestra, especially the woodwinds, features one of the literature’s greatest solo flute parts played wonderfully on this occasion by the Philharmonic’s principal flutist, Robert Langevin.

Joshua Bell’s performance of the Sibelius was terrific. The concerto brings out all his strengths: the effortless, unlimited virtuosity, glorious, variable tone, and romantic sensibility. The opening seemed to come from a great ice-bound distance, then, breaking free of the arctic cold, the sound became vibrant and intense; the great upward runs swept through the orchestra with dazzling bravura. The slow movement was dark, warm, and very expressive, and culminated in an ecstatic climax. The Finale was very fast and brilliant, but immaculately clear; even the impossible scales in thirds were perfect. In top form, Joshua Bell seems to be reaching new violinistic and communicative heights with every concert.

The Strauss and Hindemith also became more impressive with each performance. Gilbert seemed to exhibit greater confidence, freedom, and exuberance, and to encourage the musicians to do the same. In fact, the Strauss also became faster, demanding ever greater virtuosity from the players, and louder, with the percussion, partly placed toward the front of the stage next to the first violins, rattling the rafters – and the audience. But the build-ups were perfectly paced, the climaxes grand and rapturous.

It was good to hear the rarely-played Hindemith three times in close succession; repeated listening (and playing) clarified the complex counterpoint and intricate texture, and brought out the work’s light-hearted jocularity – a characteristic not often encountered in this essentially serious composer’s work.  

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Opening Night of The New York Philharmonic

Alan Gilbert, music director and conductor
Jazz at Lincoln Center Orchestra
Wynton Marsalis, director and trumpet
Opening Night
Avery Fisher Hall, New York, NY
September 22, 2010


Wynton Marsalis – Photo Credit: Julie Skarratt

On the first concert of the Lincoln Center Fall season, the New York Philharmonic performed Strauss’s Don Juan, a most difficult score (it is used to audition string players for almost every orchestra), with supreme virtuosic strength and confidence, sounding as good as any top ensemble who has ever played it. Music Director Alan Gilbert’s tempos and pacing were perfect as usual, translating the composer’s intentions rather than trying to sauce it up with a personal interpretation, as his predecessor often did. Gilbert is not a showman; he is an honest man at the podium. Hindemith’s Symphonic Metamorphoses on Themes of Carl Maria von Weber (the title is practically longer than the piece itself) was never milked for the sake of pandering to an audience, and Gilbert once again stayed true to the composer’s tempo markings and dynamics. As a result, the work and the orchestra’s playing were stirring and brilliant, and the delicate gem of a slow movement was played with just the right simplicity and tenderness.

Wynton Marsalis’ 45-minute Swing Symphony (in its US premiere) is about 30 minutes too long to be a concert piece. All the extended jazz riffs and solos take time away from the Philharmonic, which often served as an accompaniment. The moments that did integrate the orchestra were derivative of blues found in Gershwin’s Porgy and Bess or the raucous elements of the Mambo from West Side Story— to name a couple possible influences. The prevalent, virtuosic solo playing by the Jazz at Lincoln Center Orchestra was always outstanding, however, and the audience clearly appreciated Mr. Marsalis’ playing and tremendous artistic effort here. One of the movements, which was played at the Berlin Philharmonic world premiere, was cut out of this US premiere—due to time allotment for the PBS telecast, but next season, the Philharmonic will play the symphony in its entirety. If anything, Gilbert should figure out ways to convince Marsalis to cut out more. And if that can’t be done, Marsalis needs to incorporate the symphony orchestra a lot more. I still think the concept of bringing the Jazz at Lincoln Center Orchestra and the New York Philharmonic together is a good one; after all, expanding audiences and enriching cultural tastes are necessities in today’s world.

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New York Philharmonic

New York Philharmonic
Shanghai Symphony Orchestra
Central Park’s Great Lawn; New York
July 13, 2010
 
The Shanghai Symphony

The Shanghai Symphony Photo Credit by Chris Lee

 
 

In an outdoor concert threatened by rain, a New York Philharmonic Parks Concert featuring The Shanghai Symphony Orchestra went on as scheduled and drew thousands of New Yorkers. This important occasion marks the first time that another orchestra has shared a concert with the Philharmonic in Central Park. The Shanghai Symphony Orchestra, in an appearance that is helping to promote the World Expo in Shanghai, played the first half—(a reverse of the original plan because of the bad weather)—and played very well indeed. Certainly, the amplification has the ability to hide tonal deficiencies, but microphones cannot hide wrong notes, and there were hardly any blemishes to be found. In addition, the musicians played with immense energy under passionate conductor Long Yu.

Guang Zhao’s composition, “Ode to the Expo”, is a lovely, lush, Neo-Romantic work that served as a crowd-pleaser. The baritone Changyong Liao, singing Rossini’s “Largo al factotum della citta” from “The Barber of Seville”, was absolutely marvelous, and soprano Ying Huang was very appealing in “La ci darem la mano” from “Don Giovanni”. The Chinese piano soloist, Lang Lang–now a household name–transformed Gershwin’s famous “Rhapsody in Blue” into something rather foreign; I could hardly recognize the piece due to extreme exaggerations of tempo and dynamics. All in all, however, this New York Philharmonic venture—adding another orchestra to a concert—is a great idea and should be continued as much as possible. The large audience sprawled across the Great Lawn seemed excited; they even voted (via texting) for Lang Lang to play a Chinese piece as an encore.

The second half brought the New York Philharmonic to the stage, and one could instantly recognize the difference in the wind and brass brilliance and solidity of sound. There was more strength and tonal refinement in the strings as well. The guest conductor, Andrey Boreyko, conducted Tchaikovsky’s “Eugene Onegin” Polonaise with vigor, and the orchestra played with authority and finesse. Bernstein’s “West Side Story Dances” was another matter, however; because the Philharmonic knew the piece so much better than Maestro Boreyko (he seemed like he had never conducted it), he often stayed out of the way. That is good stylistically (the feel of the work came across authentically), but bad for ensemble because the orchestra needed technical clarity from Boreyko’s beat in tricky spots and didn’t get it. As a result, the orchestra was sometimes imprecise. Ravel’s “Bolero” suffered from early amplification issues such as microphone interference with squeaky high frequencies and warped dynamics. Eventually the problems subsided, but the orchestra lost its focus and went on automatic pilot—despite some fantastic solo playing. Because there were two orchestras and several soloists, there were many logistical issues to deal with. Ultimately, the Philharmonic and another guest orchestra could learn to maneuver through the obstacles. This type of concert is expensive and difficult, but a very worthwhile endeavor because—as many of us know—it has the power to bring people together.

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New York Philharmonic

New York Philharmonic
Alan Gilbert, conductor
Christine Brewer, soprano; Jane Henschel, mezzo-soprano; Anthony Dean Griffey, tenor; Eric Owens, bass-baritone; New York Choral Artists: Joseph Flummerfelt, director
Avery Fisher Hall, New York, NY
June 26, 2010

 

Alan Gilbert

Alan Gilbert

Alan Gilbert’s first season as the New York Philharmonic’s Music Director ended as adventurously as it had begun, with a premiere commissioned for the occasion. Both were written by Magnus Lindberg, the Orchestra’s newly-installed Composer-in-Residence; the first was titled EXPO!, the second Al largo. The composer provides the best description of his own music: “Only the extreme is interesting. Striving for a balanced totality is now an impossibility….” In Al largo—(meaning “offshore”)—a big orchestra with a huge percussion section produces a great, joyful noise with many brass fanfares and a multitude of instrumental colors, but without any discernible form or structure.

The main work on the program was well suited to demonstrate Gilbert’s ambitious, wide-ranging plans for his orchestra, and to celebrate the successful close of his first season: Beethoven’s Missa solemnis, Op. 123, one of the greatest, most formidable works in the literature.

The Missa has a singular history. Begun in 1819, it was intended, in Beethoven’s words, “to contribute to the glorification of the day” when his friend and patron, Archduke Rudolph of Austria, was invested as Archbishop of Olmütz. However, the Missa was far from ready to be performed at the ceremony a year later; indeed, Beethoven wrestled with it longer than with any other composition. Not until 1823 did he consider it finished, having in the meantime written his last three piano sonatas, and worked on the “Diabelli” Variations and the Ninth Symphony.

This unusually long period of gestation and contemplation could not but affect the nature of the work. Alan Gilbert thinks that what makes it so difficult to understand and perform is, at least in part, the dichotomy between its sacred and secular elements. But one might also say that it is the music itself that baffles and overwhelms both listeners and performers. It shows Beethoven at his emotionally most profound, his spiritually most sublime, and his intellectually and technically most intractable. Everything is driven to excess: the extreme changes of mood and expression; the constant shifts of meter, tempo, and dynamics; the abrupt swings from lyricism to drama, and from humble pleading to heaven-storming ecstasy. If Beethoven had any weaknesses, they lay in his vocal writing and his counterpoint, and the Missa naturally abounds in both. As in the Ninth Symphony, chorus and soloists are driven into the stratosphere for unsustainably long stretches; the fugues – and there are many – are so complex that they seem to get tangled up like coils of barbed wire. At times, even Gilbert’s usually unfailing sense of balance and textural clarity was defeated by the dense, overloaded score.  No wonder the work is heard so rarely.

The Philharmonic’s performance must have been one of the best in recent memory. Orchestra and chorus, meticulously prepared, were precise, secure, and emotionally involved; among the vocal soloists, the soprano was outstanding; the rest were good, though not well matched: the bass and alto were too subdued, the tenor was too heroic. Concertmaster Glenn Dicterow played his big solo in the Benedictus brilliantly, but his tone was too unremittingly intense.

The concert’s real hero was Alan Gilbert. His beat, as always, was clear and decisive; his transitions and tempo changes were admirably smooth and organic; his mastery of this immensely complex score, from the smallest detail to its monumental over-all structure, was prodigious; he led his enormous forces with the natural authority born of a thorough knowledge and deeply felt love of the music.

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New York Philharmonic

New York Philharmonic
Alan Gilbert, conductor
Håkan Hardenberger, trumpet
Avery Fisher Hall, New York, NY
June 19, 2010

Hakan Hardenberger

Håkan Hardenberger

For the Philharmonic’s penultimate program, Alan Gilbert chose Mozart, Wagner, and the New York premiere of Aerial (1998-99) by HK Gruber.

Mozart’s “Little” G minor Symphony was crisp, precise, and finely etched. The fast movements were moderately paced but lively, the Andante sang, yet the overall impression was cool and reserved; the drama and the emotional intensity seemed underplayed, the contrasts muted.

Heinz Karl Gruber, born in 1943 in Austria, studied various instruments and composition at the Vienna Music Academy after having been a member of the Vienna Choir Boys for four years. New Yorkers heard him some years ago at the “Berlin Lights Festival,” when he performed cabaret songs by Kurt Weill and Hanns Eisler as “chansonniere.” A prolific composer of vocal and instrumental music in many genres and contemporary styles, he wrote Aerial on commission from the BBC for the London Promenade Concerts. It is the first of three works composed for Hakan Hardenberger, the Philharmonic’s soloist at this concert. A spectacular trumpet player, he switched between muted and unmuted trumpet, piccolo trumpet and cow’s horn with dizzying frequency, producing an amazing variety of sounds, and easily competing with a large orchestra, which, after a hazy beginning, gradually built up to a jazzy, uninhibited dance. The music is supposed to evoke a vision of a barren earth-landscape seen from outer space, an imaginative but literally and figuratively “far-out” notion.

Both Wagner‘s personal and creative life were marked by controversy and turbulence, so it may be worth noting that both works on this program – the Siegfried Idyll and the Prelude and Liebestod from “Tristan und Isolde” – were inspired by significant – and notorious – relationships. The Idyll was written in 1870 as a birthday present for his wife Cosima, and also to celebrate their wedding shortly before (following a seven-year liaison while both had other spouses), and the birth of their youngest child, Siegfried, in 1869 (they had three children before they married and none afterwards.)

Wagner wrote his opera “Tristan und Isolde” in 1858-59 while living in exile in Switzerland with his first wife. In dire financial straits, they were supported by Otto Wesendonk, a wealthy admirer; Wagner repaid his generosity by engaging in a passionate relationship with his wife, Mathilde, remembered today mainly for having written the texts of the so-called “Wesendonk Songs,” five steamy poems which Wagner set to properly lush music as an “exercise” for Tristan.

The Idyll was premiered by 15 musicians at the Wagners’ house as a birthday serenade; using mostly single winds and no percussion, it is his only lightly scored composition. (The Philharmonic’s performance was almost too intimate and so subdued that some parts were barely audible.) The Tristan excerpts, in contrast, with a full complement of brass and percussion, are among his most luxurious works. The Liebestod is also one of his most famous soprano arias; Wagner made an orchestral version so that it could be performed in concert. He succeeded in recreating its melodic richness, harmonic elusiveness and textural density, but some lovers of the opera still find it hard to accept Isolde’s death without Isolde.

One of Alan Gilbert’s most admirable strengths is his ability to create transparency and to bring out important voices without seeming to suppress the rest. This showed most impressively in the “Tristan” excerpts. Gilbert preserved the lush sonority and sensuousness, the kaleidoscopic color, the undulating texture, but the lines were so carefully balanced that every melodic strand and every harmonic twist stood out.

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New York Philharmonic

New York Philharmonic
Alan Gilbert, conductor
Lisa Batiashvili, violin
Avery Fisher Hall, New York, NY
June 12, 2010
Alan Gilbert

Alan Gilbert

This concert was the first of three to be conducted by Alan Gilbert this month to conclude his opening season as Music Director of the New York Philharmonic. His adventurous, imaginative programming has brought us more contemporary works than have been heard here for many years. One of the most prominently featured composers was Magnus Lindberg (b. 1958) from Finland, whom Gilbert installed as the Philharmonic’s Composer-in-Residence. Indeed, the current season opened with one of Lindberg’s works, EXPO, and this program began with the Philharmonic premiere of another, Arena for Orchestra. Commissioned to write the required test work for the first Sibelius Conductors’ Competition in 1995, Lindberg deliberately made it an obstacle course for the conductor, with frequent tempo and meter changes and drastic textural and dynamic contrasts. Scored for an enormous orchestra whose percussion section uses every known and some unknown instruments, it begins in a sonic haze, but soon erupts into brass fanfares; occasionally something resembling a melody tries to emerge, but is immediately driven away by the next outburst of brass and percussion. Gilbert has performed the work many times and conducted it with confidence and authority; the Philharmonic negotiated all the hurdles with admirable aplomb. The composer was present to share the applause.

The program’s soloist was the phenomenal young Georgian violinist, Lisa Batiashvili, in the Sibelius Concerto. It has become her signature piece since, aged 16, she won second prize as the youngest-ever competitor at the 1995 Sibelius Competition. After that, her career on stage and recording became meteoric, and no wonder. She has the flair of a virtuoso without the flourishes and mannerisms. Her technique is dazzling, but she never calls attention to it, making the most hair-raising fireworks seem as easy as breathing, blithely taking risks with supreme confidence. Her tone, enhanced by a famous Stradivarius violin, is gorgeous, capable of infinite variations of color, nuance and intensity. Best of all, her playing is expressive but never exaggerated or fussy, and her stage presence, too, is simple and natural. From the Concerto’s icy, misty beginning, the stormy climaxes built up organically; the slow movement was all inward tenderness, the Finale all driving, rocking energy. 

Lisa Batiashvili

Lisa Batiashvili

The program ended with Brahms’ Second Symphony in a lovely performance that balanced dignity with exuberance, warmth with austerity, repose with excitement. The orchestra played splendidly.  

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Gilbert’s Seamless Schumann

Gilbert’s Seamless Schumann

On December 30th, 2009, The New York Philharmonic, with Alan Gilbert conducting, gave one of the greatest performances of Schumann’s Second Symphony you will ever hear. Why? Not only was it executed with a beautiful, polished sound by all the sections in the orchestra, but the interpretation was extremely honest to the extent that every musical gesture was in tune with the composer and his score. Exaggeration and showmanship are words associated with past conductors at the Philharmonic, and if anything, we heard the opposite: some of Schumann’s tempo changes were conducted so seamlessly–with such subtlety–that they almost went unnoticed. The first movement was jovial but intense; the Scherzo was played with a controlled jauntiness; the Adagio espressivo movement was played with a sincere tenderness, and the finale was simply glorious. The New York Philharmonic and Alan Gilbert make a case that Schumann’s Second Symphony is one of the greatest symphonies of all time. Let’s hope they perform this work often.

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2009 CONCERT SEASON

If there is a general complaint about manyof today’s performers, it is that they reverse the ancient dictum “Nothing to excess” by doingeverything to excess. Tempi keep getting faster, dynamics louder and softer, contrasts more vio­lent; brass and percussion dominate the orches­tral texture and ruin the balance. Nevertheless, there was much to enjoy and admire in this sea­son’s concerts, which honored the anniversaries of Mendelssohn’s birth and Haydn’s death, and also prominently featured Mahler and Brahms; here are some highlights and celebrations.

The year’s biggest news was the passing ofthe baton from Lorin Maazel to Alan Gilbert at the New York Philharmonic. Amid a flurry off are well concerts, Maazel conducted one of his favorite works: Britten’s War Requiem. Despite the excellent performance, the impact of the music seemed to have diminished over the years, but the poetry and the aching memories of the work’s creation are still deeply affecting.

For his tenure’s grand finale, Maazel led amemorable performance of Mahler’s Eighth Symphony. Its monumental length had coher­ence, its massive score remarkable transparency; there was time to savor the lyrical moments and echoes of other works. It was a triumphant farewell, rewarded by an outpouring of respectand appreciation.

The Philharmonic’s Opening Gala included the Premiere of “EXPO,” commissioned from Magnus Lindberg, the Orchestra’s Resident Composer, and an elusive, impressionist cycle of love ­songs by Messiaen, which the wonderful soprano Renée Fleming had learned for the occasion. It was the most ambitious Gala pro­gram ever devised, and immediately demonstrat­ed the adventurousness of Gilbert’s ideas and his ability to carry them out.

The Philadelphia Orchestra under Christoph Eschenbach gave Mahler’s SeventhSymphony a splendid performance, distin­guished by its combination of sweep and atten­tion to detail, its unusual clarity, and especiallits meticulous balance between sections and within the orchestral texture.

Mostly Mozart paid homage to Mendelssohn with his “Italian” Symphony, played very fast under Yannick Nézet ­Séguin; the Violin Concerto, played brilliantly by the golden ­toned Joshua Bell under Music Director Louis Langré, and the first Piano Trio with the fine Trio con Brio. Haydn was honored with symphonies, piano concertos, and the rarelheard Sinfonia Concertante, played splendidl by concertmistress Krista Bennion ­Feeney, cel­list Ilya Finkelsteyn, oboist Randall Ellis, and bassoonist Marc Goldberg. Brahms’ Variationson a Theme by Haydn were also featured, pre­ceded by an impressive performance by Jon Manasse and Jon Nakamatsu of Brahms’ first Clarinet Sonata, and followed by his Fourth  Symphony. Langré closed the Festival with a lovely performance of Haydn’s “Creation,” sunin English, probably for greater accessibility. The “Creation” and “The Seasons were sung in German by the Monteverdi Choir withthe period instrument group Orchestre Révolutionnaire et Romantique under John Eliot Gardiner. The performances were clear, brisk and enthusiastic, but suffered from all the excesses mentioned above; indeed, the pace was so hectic that Gardiner never even paused between movements, and the balance so lop­sided that the strings and the crucial harmoniesin the inner voices were almost obliterated. All four Brahms symphonies were presentedby the Berlin Philharmonic under Simon Rattle, paired with four works by Schoenberg. The combination was supposedly justified by the series’ opening work, Schoenberg’s misguided, blown­up orchestration of Brahms’ first Piano Quartet ­a transcription some chamber musi­cians dislike. The rest of the programs, however,made up for it. Schoenberg’s mono­drama, “Erwartung” (Expectation) was riveting, with soprano Evelyn Herlitzius as a woman who stumbles through a dark forest searching for her faithless lover, only to find his corpse. Reality ornightmare? No one knows. The orchestra was terrific; the soloists were wonderful, the sound was gorgeous. Rattle, deeply involved, alternated between standing still and erupting into violent action; the players, themselves physically very engaged, responded to his slightest motion. The performances were grandly conceived and exe­cuted, but intonation and attacks were often imperfect; the texture was murky, everything was so loud that the climaxes became deafening. All concerts ended with a joyful noise; the audi­ences loved it. Rattle also conducted the Philadelphia Orchestra and Chorale in Berlioz’ “Damnation of Faust.” With mezzo ­soprano Magdalena Kozena, tenor Gregory Kunde, basses Thomas Quasthoff and Eric Owens, the performance was fabulous and captured both the music’s sim­plicity and sophistication.With the New York Philharmonic under Gilbert, Frank Peter Zimmermann gave Brahms’ Violin Concerto a robust, extroverted performance, very prosaic despite many juicy slides. It was paired – again – with Schoenberg: the symphonic poem “Pelleas et Melisande,” anearly, tonal, romantic work; players and conduc­tor reveled in its luxurious, colorful orchestra­tion. The Zukerman Chamber Players, with Zukerman on viola, opened their series with adelightful, heart­warming mostly Brahms pro­gram. It featured his ingratiating first Sextet and the songs for mezzo ­soprano and viola, sung superbly by Michelle DeYoung with pianist Kevin Murphy, along with songs by Dvorak and  Strauss. The Pacifica Quartet, a young but alreadhighly acclaimed group, has taken over the Guarneri Quartet’s residency at the Metropolitan Museum. This requires self ­confi­dence and courage, but perhaps also more intro­spection than was evident at its opening pro­gram. The players’ involvement seemed physical rather than emotional; the playing was compe­tent but too fast and driven for real expressive­ness; the sound was good but unvaried; the cello was under­ balanced. Their Mozart lacked graceand repose, their Brahms depth and passion; they broke up Janácek’s “Intimate Letters” withlong pauses.The Kalichstein ­Laredo ­Robinson Trio gave both Schubert Trios a solid, expressive perform­ance; the Emerson Quartet’s Schubert was disci­plined and polished, but too extroverted; the American Quartet’s “Death and the Maiden” was brilliant, full of drama and anguished plead­ing. Violinist Christian Tetzlaff performed one of his specialties, Bach’s unaccompanied works, in one day ­a remarkable feat. He has recorded them twice, and, claiming that they tell a contin­uous story, always presents them chronological­ly. His interpretation continues to gain depth and freedom; unfortunately, the fast movements also gain speed: the performance left listeners breathless, though marveling at his technical control, his pure, beautiful tone, his clear struc­ture and counterpoint. Two great pianists performed Beethoven’s last three sonatas. Mitsuko Uchida projected dramatic intensity and expressive lyricism; András Schiff, concluding his Beethoven cycle, displayed his usual beautiful singing tone and perfect legato, and gave pristine clarity to usual­ly blurred, muddy passages. James Levine, Music Director of the Boston Symphony (and the Metropolitan Opera), had tocancel several appearances due to a back opera­tion. At Carnegie Hall’s Opening Night, he was replaced by Daniele Gatti; the program included Chopin’s second Piano Concerto with the incomparable Evgeny Kissin and the premiere of John Williams’ Harp Concerto, written forthe Orchestra’s harpist Ann Hobson Pilot. There were also other unusual offerings. Leon Kirchner’s four string quartets were played splendidly by the Orion Quartet, to whom one isdedicated. Zemlinsky’s Lyric Symphony, per­formed by the New York Philharmonic under Neeme Järvi with soprano Hillevi Martinpelto and baritone Thomas Hampson, was very inter­esting. Set to poems by Rabindranath Tagore, it is romantic, tonal but dissonant; the orchestra­tion is kaleidoscopic, but too heavy for the singers.

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