
Wolfgang
Amadeus Mozart, circa 1779
PASADENA,
CALIF
– Perhaps it was inevitable that, toward the end of a long
and grueling season, the orchestra began to show its fatigue.
Or, more distressingly, the disarming charm and simplicity of
Mozart's entertaining Tafelmusik (vis-à-vis the Von Dohnanyi
or Shostakovich in the last concert) had instilled a sense of
complacency among the musicians. In any event, last Saturday
night's all-Mozart program by the Pasadena Symphony was not one
which the serious connoisseur shall remember with undiluted
pleasure.
The orchestra was predictably at its best in Mozart's late work, Adagio
and Fugue in c minor (K.546). The long, sustained chords
in the Adagio recall the Romantic world of Don Giovanni
(which premiered a year prior). The double basses intone the cantus
firmus of the Fugue, to which the higher strings add
contrapuntal voices to achieve Sturm und Drang on a monumental
scale. The playing by the Pasadena Symphony struck an ideal
balance between grace and solemnity that was wholly convincing.
Far less convincing, however, was the Sinfonia Concertante in
E-flat for violin and viola (K.364). This rarely heard gem
requires a virtuosi orchestra and two soloists who can play off of
each other as well as with each other. The Turkish-born
Kavafian sisters seemed hell-bent on outdoing each other and often
outrunning the orchestra as well. Never mind Mozart's harsh
accusations of the violinist Antonio Brunetti ("ill-bred,
coarse, a disgrace to his employer and myself"), who premiered
the work in 1779 with the 23-year-old composer as the violist.
The opening bars of the Allegro maestoso, with richly divided
violas and a grand crescendo, signal the newfound
Mannheim-influenced harmonies and the end of Mozart's Salzburg
period. The style is broader, the feeling richer. The
orchestra is no mere support, but a highly articulate participant
that maintains a close rapport with the viola and violin
soloists. In this case, the rapport proved to be nearly
non-existent, as the Kavafian sisters took some serious liberties
with rhythm and phrasing against a polished backdrop of orchestral
playing. Only toward the end of the elegiac C-minor Andante
was there a hint of genuine feeling, in the firmly articulated
dotted rhythm and the poignant orchestral coda. The spirited
final Allegro, alas, plummeted again into the helter-skelter of the
opening, and heard more faulty intonations and smudged notes from
the Kavafian sisters. That upward slide, or glissando, on the
violin toward the middle of the Allegro was a shocker, a stylistic
solecism that had me nearly fall out of my seat!
With the death of his beloved mother in July of 1778, Mozart was
no longer content with writing 'entertainment' music, and frequently
imbued it with symphonic grandeur and highly chromatic harmonies, as
heard in the "Posthorn" Serenade in D-major (K.320).
The thin line separating the serenade and the symphony during this
period is but one aspect of Mozart's ambiguous nature that I find
endlessly fascinating.
The seven movements of the D-major Serenade are comprised of a
pair of movements with solo woodwinds, a pair of minuets, an
andantino for strings, and outer movements which Mozart instructed
to be played "in a fiery manner and the finale as fast as
possible". As expected, Maestro Mester and his orchestra
excelled in the darker emotional veins of the minor-key Andantino
and the opulent romp and pomp of the outer movements. The use
of cellos and double basses, absent in the original scoring, further
added to the grandeur of the piece. Intonation seemed to be a
problem on this night, and here the woodwinds and the solo French
horn (which substituted the original valveless posthorn in the
second minuet) were all suspect. In the Concertante (No. 3),
the solo flute and oboe engaged in a graceful pas de deux without
casting any magical spell on these ears.
This concert can be heard on K-Mozart (105.1FM) on Sunday, June
2, 8:00pm.
Truman
C. Wang is editor of Classical Voice.
|