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Ron Drummond is a Seattleite who, as all his friends know very well, is devoted to the music of Antoine (aka Anton, aka Antonín) Reicha, a Czech/Viennese/Parisian composer of the time of Beethoven. Opportunities to hear Reicha's music live are few, but had Ron been down here for the last two weeks, he could have heard Reicha have his 15 minutes, for that was about the combined length of the two Reicha works that showed up at the San Francisco Symphony's "Beethoven's Vienna" festival. I had told him about this, but he wasn't able to make it. Understandable, but it would have been worth it.
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That brings us to yesterday's symphony concert, a rare treat. First, a Reicha Overture in D - a witty and enjoyable piece, perfectly ordinary for its day except for one thing - it's in 5/8, a time signature virtually unknown then. The combination of aspects that are ordinary and expected with one that's completely unprecedented made a wonderful effect, like - I dunno - the inauguration of a woman President would. Next, a piano concerto by J.L. Dussek, the piano virtuoso who invented sitting with your handsome profile towards the audience. Written while poised on the century's edge, it combines a restrained classical 18th-century orchestra with an elaborate florid 19th-century solo part, elegantly whirled out by Jean-Yves Thibaudet (who didn't disdain to use a score). This also came out an odd combination, but think Mendelssohn or Chopin.
Lastly, Beethoven's Seventh Symphony, one of my favorites. This turned out to be one of those special occasions - last experienced by me in a Mahler First a couple years ago - when MTT puts on his Aspect, raises his Attribute, places the orchestra in the palm of his hand and makes them do amazing things. Unlike the Eroica, the Seventh can appear to shrink - the piece felt like it was over in twenty minutes, though I'm sure it wasn't. Yet it had all the heft and magnitude of a slow grand 45-minute version. In the outer movements, it wasn't that they were so fast, though they were - I've heard them this fast before. It was the skill and assurance with which they were played, especially the finale. But the real revelation was the second movement. Its speed was unprecedented in my experience (but it is marked Allegretto, after all), but the lyric elegance was unimpaired. Suddenly I saw it as the ancestor to all those fine Brahms allegrettos. And of course the playing throughout put not a step wrong, neither note nor nuance. This was a performance for those who like their ginger snaps strong and their soup condensed.
The hall was not quite sold out, so it might be possible to sneak in for tonight's repeat. I hope those who already have tickets are as fortunate as we were yesterday. Next week there are three performances of a semi-staged concert Fidelio and a piano recital by the amazing Garrick Ohlsson, but other commitments interfere, so I won't be at those.
( Read more... )
That brings us to yesterday's symphony concert, a rare treat. First, a Reicha Overture in D - a witty and enjoyable piece, perfectly ordinary for its day except for one thing - it's in 5/8, a time signature virtually unknown then. The combination of aspects that are ordinary and expected with one that's completely unprecedented made a wonderful effect, like - I dunno - the inauguration of a woman President would. Next, a piano concerto by J.L. Dussek, the piano virtuoso who invented sitting with your handsome profile towards the audience. Written while poised on the century's edge, it combines a restrained classical 18th-century orchestra with an elaborate florid 19th-century solo part, elegantly whirled out by Jean-Yves Thibaudet (who didn't disdain to use a score). This also came out an odd combination, but think Mendelssohn or Chopin.
Lastly, Beethoven's Seventh Symphony, one of my favorites. This turned out to be one of those special occasions - last experienced by me in a Mahler First a couple years ago - when MTT puts on his Aspect, raises his Attribute, places the orchestra in the palm of his hand and makes them do amazing things. Unlike the Eroica, the Seventh can appear to shrink - the piece felt like it was over in twenty minutes, though I'm sure it wasn't. Yet it had all the heft and magnitude of a slow grand 45-minute version. In the outer movements, it wasn't that they were so fast, though they were - I've heard them this fast before. It was the skill and assurance with which they were played, especially the finale. But the real revelation was the second movement. Its speed was unprecedented in my experience (but it is marked Allegretto, after all), but the lyric elegance was unimpaired. Suddenly I saw it as the ancestor to all those fine Brahms allegrettos. And of course the playing throughout put not a step wrong, neither note nor nuance. This was a performance for those who like their ginger snaps strong and their soup condensed.
The hall was not quite sold out, so it might be possible to sneak in for tonight's repeat. I hope those who already have tickets are as fortunate as we were yesterday. Next week there are three performances of a semi-staged concert Fidelio and a piano recital by the amazing Garrick Ohlsson, but other commitments interfere, so I won't be at those.
