Last night was the fourth Masterworks concert of the season. Guest conductor Alastair Willis conducted a reduced orchestra in Elgar's Serenade in E minor for Strings, Haydn's Cello Concerto in C major, "Mozart's" 37th symphony and Tchaikovsky's Serenade in C major for Strings. Pavel Gomziakov was soloing on the cello for the Haydn, and "Mozart" is in quotes because as you may know Mozart's 37th symphony is actually a symphony by Michael Haydn, which Mozart wrote a ninety second introduction to.
I had originally planned to opt out of this concert because I was trying to avoid the concerts where the orchestra is reduced due to sharing with the opera. They schedule the year so that the majority of those concerts are in the Mainly Mozart and Baroque & Wine series', but two Masterworks concerts this year also inevitably coincided with opera performances, this being one of them. However, now that I'm going alone to most concerts, I will be going to practically everything since I have a spare ticket from each Masterworks concert to exchange into something else!
Fortunately they managed to keep a great deal of the key string players in Benaroya Hall for this concert. With the Elgar and Tchaikovsky serenades for strings that was probably an obligation on their part. There were very few winds and brass employed throughout the evening, just a flute, a few oboes, a bassoon and some horns.
Alastair Willis opened the concert with the Serenade in E minor for Strings by Elgar. While I was immediately pleased with the lush fullness of the string sound, Willis' conducting was also immediately lacking. I couldn't point to any specifics as I don't know enough about it, but I can say that everything that would make a conductor great in my eyes wasn't there with Willis. He seemed to lack depth, and his gestures and facial expressions seemed almost to be an analogy to something he held in his mind, rather than a direct authentic expression. A fake smile was plastered on his face for much of the time, appearing to be trying to try to invoke excitement or warmth within the players. The tone of the strings was good due to the technical skill of the players, but Willis failed to bring it beyond its base default sound.
Willis is actually a great fan of the Elgar serenade, particularly the slow second movement. But even there, the serious facial expression he gave the orchestra before giving the downbeat seemed more to say "okay, here's the serious one, let's be grave" than to actually invoke graveness. I was ready for this piece to be over long before it was, especially since I'm a fan of the wonderfully light and tuneful Haydn cello concerto, which I believe I became familiar with many years ago when my brother Oliver was learning it.
After the Elgar the stage was reset for the Haydn, and Pavel Gomziakov came on stage followed by Alastair Willis. He took his bow and then situated himself on the customary cello soloist pedestal. And then I sowed my ears shut. Oh wait no, that's what I would have done if I could have seen into the future.
Willis led the orchestra through the orchestral introduction in much the same manner as he led them through the Elgar. His plastered smile was ever-present, and his light and ineffective gestures did little to alter or expand on the default sound of the orchestra. And then Pavel began the first solo section.
It was a joke. It really and truly was a joke. You know how sometimes you might be goofing off in the living room with some instruments, scores and a few friends? You might play things way too fast, too slow, too high, too low, in an exaggerated or humorous manner, etc? Pavel Gomziakov made a mockery out of every single note in the score, twisting it one way or another, accompanied by a comical and exaggerated facial expression. He was the utmost epitome of the 'show business' style of classical music performance which is so prevalent among young rising stars today. I would say he was hot on the heels of Lang Lang in this ghastly pretentiousness, but on further reflection I believe he may have actually usurped Lang Lang from his throne. No note was left alone to simply be played and delivered to the ear, no phrase was executed with a natural expression, the way one might speak, or hum to themselves. Notes that started at ppp, went to fff and returned to ppp within the length of a bow were followed by equally grotesque percussive uses of the bow on shorter notes, which were often accompanied by a facial expression which seemed to suggest walking on eggs or hot coals.
Within seconds of Pavel's first opening in the first movement, I actually inadvertently buried my face in my hand and just waited for it to be over. There was no way to elicit any enjoyment from the music in a situation like this, with the performer constantly snatching it out from under your ear and engaging in a macabre dance with it.
When the final movement finally ended the audience leapt to their feat in exuberant applause. Moments like that really make me think "What's the point? Why are we doing this? Why am I here? Why am I fighting to preserve this art form?" Then intermission began. I wandered about and eventually made my way into the Friends Lounge. I didn't have any tea though. Eventually a young usher guy started talking to me about the first half of the concert. I was very honest about my thoughts, feeling comfortable being so since I only had good things to say about the Seattle Symphony. I had a good little chat with him, and I'll probably bump into him again. I then returned to my seat for the Mozart/Haydn and the Tchaikovsky serenade.
Alastair Willis picked up a microphone before beginning the second half in order to talk about the nature of the Mozart/Haydn symphony. He didn't mention anything about Mozart's superstition about the number thirty-seven being the cause of his avoidance of writing a symphony with that number, but I'm pretty sure that that's the reason he didn't.
The one thing I learned from the talk was that it was Michael Haydn and not Joseph Haydn, whose symphony Mozart used. I had always assumed it was Joseph, but Michael makes more sense. And when I learned that I become more excited about hearing it because I've always been a fan of Michael Haydn's work. However, this particular symphony didn't enchant my ears very much, and I'm not sure whether it was the work or Willis who got in the way of that. The orchestra again sounded solid, and Willis fake smiled a lot, and it was nothing awfully memorable.
The last piece on the program was the Tchaikovsky Serenade for Strings. I wasn't sure if I had ever heard this work before, but I assumed I must have at some point. While it did not sound very familiar to me, I was surprised by how rich and beautiful it was. It had many minor aspects to it even though it was in the key of C major, and the string texture was always very full. Willis seemed to exercise just a bit more command over the orchestra in this piece, and I felt it was the strongest collaboration between conductor and orchestra that the evening had to offer. Even missing several players, the Seattle Symphony string section proved themselves quite well in this work. The last movement in particular really took off, and the fast excited passages near the end were bursting with energy. It's not a piece I'll be listening to again, but it was certainly a convincing performance of it.
Next up is an organ recital I'm going to tomorrow evening!
____________________________
http://www.seattlesymphony.org/symphony/buy/single/production.aspx?id=13722&src=t&dateid=13722
No comments:
Post a Comment