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Mountain views and a stormy Mozart

Philadelphia Orchestra’s season begins (second review)

In
4 minute read

The season opener of the Philadelphia Orchestra embodied a sense of spectacle. This particular concert (others in the opening weekend had different opening pieces) began with Borodin’s On the Steppes of Central Asia, an evocation of pastoral mountain scenes, followed by Lang Lang’s impassioned, indeed demonstrative, performance of Mozart’s Piano Concerto No. 17 in G Major, and culminating in Richard Strauss’s mammoth tone poem about ascending the daunting Alps as a symbol of the life challenges of the übermensch.

Beginning with a reflective quietude, the concert manifested a crescendo of energy ending in the Alpine Symphony’s fortississimo passages, which included wind machines and the awesome resonances of a three-story high piece of sheet metal that hung from the ceiling of Verizon Hall. Bang bang — you’ve reached the summit and survived the Alpine super-storm. Let the season begin!

If you detect a slight note of sarcasm here, it is only because the Alpine Symphony, an otherwise extraordinary piece of orchestration and, at times, ascending beauty, is extremist in its density and unrelenting drama. Composed in 1915, after Strauss had completed the cycle of his greatest tone poems and was turning to other forms, he named his new tour de force a “symphony.” (It’s actually in the form of suite, with symphonic elements.) By then, he had become a friend of Gustav Mahler, whose symphonies he greatly appreciated, and it was as if he wanted to beat Mahler at his own game.

The Alpine Symphony packs a whole universe of sound into one of the richest (and longest) orchestral arrangements ever produced. Every bit of it is the work of a master utilizing all the instrumentation and every musical device at his disposal. Strauss wanted to call it The Antichrist (!) because he regarded it as an expression of the German Romantic Naturphilosophie of Goethe and, perhaps reflecting Nietzsche, a pantheistic view of the human spirit.

No loss of control

In the capable hands of music director Nézet-Séguin, the piece gradually built to a fever pitch without losing control. Nézet-Séguin kept it from becoming sacrilegious by emphasizing the musical transformations and Strauss’s peerless deep and varied sonorities of the instruments rather than the bombast implied in the grandiose story of a superhuman mountain climber who triumphs over the elements. Each time he mounts a large-scale composition, our beloved Yannick shows his mastery of the expanded orchestral forces involved. In that respect, he resembles Mahler more than Strauss, whose conducting, even of his own work, was not especially notable.

The evening began with a much quieter reflection on man’s relationship to nature, Borodin’s On the Steppes of Central Asia, the melodies of which partly inspired the Broadway musical Kismet. Nézet-Séguin kept it from being a sentimental potboiler by toning the volume down to a whisper when called for and bringing out the very sensitive and fragile interplay of winds and strings. His minimalist interpretation made the full orchestra sound as subtle as a chamber ensemble. A passage involving a flute solo backed by a single sustained pianissimo note of the violins almost seemed to anticipate the postromantic orchestrations of Alban Berg, such can be found in his Violin Concerto. Nézet-Séguin transformed a romantic nationalistic tone poem into an elegant linear expression of a single emotional thread by carefully understating and outlining its unfolding.

Too old to be an enfant terrible

The aspect of spectacle contained in the Lang Lang phenomenon is more problematical than Strauss’s grandiosity as a composer. As a reviewer, I found it difficult to be objective about Lang Lang’s performance of the Mozart Piano Concerto No. 17 in G Major. Lang Lang has a charisma that drew thunderous applause and a standing ovation from the audience, yet what I observed was a self-centered child whose gestures — such as his almost insulting arm-waving as if he were conducting the orchestra from the piano, interfering with Nézet-Séguin on the podium — bore no traces of mature humility and self-control. I had to close my eyes to try to hear the music without being offended.

What I heard was initially sloppy playing that veered into a genuine display of virtuosity in the last movement. I was also impressed by his romantic interpretation of Mozart, bringing out deep emotions that are overlooked by many players. I am concerned, however, that his successful propagandistic advancement of his own career hurts those aspiring pianists who are trying to advance themselves by virtue of their performance capabilities.

So the orchestra’s season got off to a rousing start, although somewhat compromised by Lang Lang’s gymnastics. A note to those who plan to purchase tickets for future concerts. The orchestra has instituted a 40/40 program to present works not recently performed. This means that some of the concerts that are repeated may change one composition in the program depending on the date. Be sure to check out these variations before you purchase tickets.

To read another review by Robert Zaller, cick here.

What, When, Where

Philadelphia Orchestra: Borodin, In the Steppes of Central Asia; Mozart, Piano Concerto No. 17; Strauss, An Alpine Symphony. Yannick Nézet-Séguin, conductor; Lang Lang, piano. September 27, 2014 at Verizon Hall, The Kimmel Center for the Performing Arts, Broad and Spruce Streets, Philadelphia. 215-893-1999 or www.philorch.org.

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