We had Susanna Mälkki last week, with Simon Trpceski on the piano for the Fantasy on Two Folk Tunes written for him by Damir Imeri and Ravel's Piano Concerto in G, bookended by Henri Dutilleux's Symphony No. 1 and Paul Dukas's The Sorcerer's Apprentice. Mälkki struck us as a lively conductor, and she got a fair amount of approval from the orchestra as well; they stomp their feet for a conductor they like a lot. She wore that same overcoat-like garment, which made me think that concert clothing for women conductors is challenging, because there are few traditional garments for women that convey seriousness and authority the way tailcoats do for men. A woman wearing a tailcoat brings to mind Marlene Dietrich, an image full of grace, strength, and transgression, not quite the right image for a conductor.
It was a fine concert all through, but the surprise of the evening for me was the end. It was the first time I've heard The Sorcerer's Apprentice at an adult concert. I've known it my whole life, from Fantasia, from a kids' concert before I was 10, from recordings, radio, elevators, hold music, passersby whistling. I don't respect it much. The symphony played it with as much seriousness as possible consistent with nearly every performer grinning like a loon all the way through, and I realized again the thing I must have known before, that it really is a good piece of music that achieves precisely what the composer intended, and anew a thing that should have been obvious before, that most of the symphony musicians have known and loved this piece since they were tiny. They could have played it in their sleep, but instead they played it with full attention and enjoyment.
And this week, we had Gerard Schwarz conducting a some not-bad opera interludes by Daron Aric Hagen, followed by Prokofiev's Piano Concerto No. 3 with Alexander Toradze and Shostakovich's Symphony No. 8. Schwarz spent a lot of his career perfecting the Seattle Symphony's approach to the great 20th century Russian composers, and he hasn't lost his touch in semi-retirement as conductor emeritus. As you say, the Prokofiev is an inherently thrilling work, and I was thrilled. The Shostakovich is an inherently wrenching work, long, often loud, and balanced just at the edge of being emotionally overwrought. It could have used some editing; I blame that on Shostakovich. I wouldn't have wanted to do without any of the very quiet English horn solo or the interplay between the woodwinds.
I envy you the precision of your musical vocabulary, and wish I had better tools for describing what works for me in a concert.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2012-04-28 06:16 pm (UTC)It was a fine concert all through, but the surprise of the evening for me was the end. It was the first time I've heard The Sorcerer's Apprentice at an adult concert. I've known it my whole life, from Fantasia, from a kids' concert before I was 10, from recordings, radio, elevators, hold music, passersby whistling. I don't respect it much. The symphony played it with as much seriousness as possible consistent with nearly every performer grinning like a loon all the way through, and I realized again the thing I must have known before, that it really is a good piece of music that achieves precisely what the composer intended, and anew a thing that should have been obvious before, that most of the symphony musicians have known and loved this piece since they were tiny. They could have played it in their sleep, but instead they played it with full attention and enjoyment.
And this week, we had Gerard Schwarz conducting a some not-bad opera interludes by Daron Aric Hagen, followed by Prokofiev's Piano Concerto No. 3 with Alexander Toradze and Shostakovich's Symphony No. 8. Schwarz spent a lot of his career perfecting the Seattle Symphony's approach to the great 20th century Russian composers, and he hasn't lost his touch in semi-retirement as conductor emeritus. As you say, the Prokofiev is an inherently thrilling work, and I was thrilled. The Shostakovich is an inherently wrenching work, long, often loud, and balanced just at the edge of being emotionally overwrought. It could have used some editing; I blame that on Shostakovich. I wouldn't have wanted to do without any of the very quiet English horn solo or the interplay between the woodwinds.
I envy you the precision of your musical vocabulary, and wish I had better tools for describing what works for me in a concert.