January, 2004
Fri, January 9
WHAT a way to jumpstart a new
year -- with two world-famous conductors bringing their well-drilled
ensembles to the South Land. The first, Staatskapelle
Berlin, is the less travelled, but no less formidable, group
steep in the German Romantic tradition. The all-German program
showcased the former GDR orchestra for the sweeping grandeur and
infectious enthusiasm of its playing. The purist may frown at
the occasional lack of precision and polish in the heat of high
drama, but the palpable, visceral excitement that this orchestra
creates was undeniable.
Conductor
Daniel Barenboim, returning to Orange County after his 1997
concert with the Vienna Philharmonic, is one of today's finest
interpreters of the central German Romantic repertoire. To
him, the music's architectural clarity is as important as the note
values themselves. At one heated passage during Schumann's
Symphony No. 4, the ensemble nearly was thrown off the track by
the sheer animalistic abandon of the playing, but it soon regained
composure and softened into a molasses of honeyed sounds. In
my view, it is this extreme contrast of brutality and spirituality
that made the Staatskapelle's playing, and Barenboim's conducting,
so uniquely memorable. The Manfred Overture, full of
longings and romantic angst, suited the orchestra's temperaments
perfectly. In Beethoven's Symphony No. 5, the
fate-motif went on overdrive, knocking and twitching like a
half-crazed creature through the symphony's four movements. In
contrast, the gentle encore of the slow movement from Brahms' Third
Symphony provided a soothing antidote to the steroids-filled main
program.
---
Sat, January 10
The second major
ensemble to visit So Cal was the redoubtable Monteverdi Choir and
the Orchestre Revolutionnaire et Romantique -- an altogether
more refined, though no less exciting, experience than the Germans.
The urbane British group, led by conductor John Eliot Gardiner,
performed a splendid program of ceremonial and religious works at
UCLA's Royce Hall (a
UCLAlive
presentation).
Playing
on period instruments, including 1 recorder and 3 valveless horns,
the ORR tripped through the music with brisk tempi and light bows.
Similarly, the Monteverdi Choir sang with a bright timbre and
minimal vibrato. Some may prefer a heavier, more operatic
style of singing, but that would have been out of place in the
18th-Century religious music offered here -- Handel's Coronation
Anthem No. 1 "Zadok the Priest", Mozart's Vesperae Solennes
de Confessore, K. 339 and Haydn's Mass in D minor "Lord
Nelson Mass". The brilliant sound of the Monteverdi Choir was
heard to great effect in the Coronation Anthem, and the Mozart
Vespers (with tempestuous passages reminiscent of "Idomeneo")
offered a memorable solo turn for Choir soprano Angharad Gruffydd
Jones, who sang Laudate Dominum with unforced purity and
grace. Ms. Jones also shone in the "Nelson" mass, delivering
heavenly runs of Et resurrexit with joyous abandon.
Conductor John Eliot Gardiner kept a tight rein on the pulse of the
music, maintaining rhythmic vigor and weaving together a majestic
tapestry of sounds from the choir and the orchestra. It was a
magnificent achievement.
The following Sunday afternoon, January 11, the
same group performed at Costa Mesa's Segerstrom Hall in a concert
presented by the
Philharmonic Society of Orange County.
It was even more electrifying than at the acoustically staid Royce
Hall. The horns shot forth more brilliantly, and the soloists
had no problem being heard at all. The performance as a whole
felt more exuberant and rapturously uplifting. What a
difference a hall makes!
---
Thu, January 15
Itzhak Perlman's rare appearance at UCLA's Royce Hall was an
exciting affair. If the program seemed disappointingly
conventional, it was carried out with such extraordinary skills and
charisma that made the Poulenc violin sonata, for example,
seem more substantial than it is. Mr. Perlman's musicianship
is unimpeachable; his style is unmistakably masculine -- bold and
passionate, with a pleasingly silky, cantabile tone from the
1714 "Soil" Stradivarius. Beethoven's popular
"Spring" sonata heard some finely chiseled playing in the long
arcs of the adagio, and the immaculate collaborative work with
pianist Janet Goodman Guggenheim was a joy to behold.
Mozart's B-flat major sonata, the only work on the program
worthy of Mr. Perlman's artistry, received a glowing, enchanting
account with an easy flow that managed to convey much of this late
work's poignant undertones. A total of five encores were offered,
conveying not only different facets of Mr. Perlman's art (dreamily
poetic in Faure's "Berceuse", daredevilish in Fiocco's "Allegro"),
but also his inimitable sense of humor ("an old piece by Zarzycki,
so old, in fact, that it cost $0.64")
---
Sun,
January 25
Three months after its opening, the Walt Disney Hall's
wondrous acoustics continues to impress musicians and audiences
alike. So perfect is the acoustics, in fact, that you can hear a
pin drop on stage as clearly as a tiny cough or whisper in the
audience. And when you have a small a cappella group on stage
singing to a packed house of tourists unfamiliar with concert
etiquettes, the problem can be downright annoying.
The program was sacred music of the Elizabethan
England, with lofty aims of transporting the listener to spiritual
ecstasies. Music director Grant Gershon asked the audience
to hold their applause until the end of each half, but obviously did
not anticipate the wave of bronchial afflictions that threatened to
derail the calm and spirituality of the sacred pieces.
Under the circumstances, the Los Angeles
Master Chorale made a valiant effort to impart a sense of wonder
and profundity to the proceedings. The main work on the program --
William Byrd's Mass for five voices -- was inserted between
its sections short choral works by John Tavener (b. 1944), and
English Renaissance composers Thomas Tallis and Peter Philips. It's
a daring experiment that worked surprisingly well, blending and
bridging five centuries of English sacred music in one seamless,
stylistic continuum.
Maestro Gershon directed a glowing performance
of the Byrd mass that was full of beauty and emotion (although it
does not match the profound spirituality of Byrd’s Mass for three
voices, a better work in my opinion). In Tavener’s Annunciation,
the Master Chorale recreated the Chapel setting with a solo quartet
positioned inside the auditorium, creating otherworldly stereophonic
effects. Their powerful sound came from only 48 singers.
My other reservation about the concert, apart
from the ‘lively’ acoustics, concerns the choral singing technique
that emphasized a big, bold sound rather than a simple, straight
tone characteristic of the finest British choirs. (I am reminded of
the visiting Monteverdi Choir from England last week in Orange
County.)
All told, if the sacred concert was not quite
the sublime spiritual experience that it would have been in the
ecclesiastical setting of, say, the nearby Cathedral of the Lady of
Angels, it nonetheless succeeded in inspiring the listener to
explore further an era of such tremendous fecundity and vitality
that was the English Renaissance. I plan to spend the next two
weeks revisiting madrigals of John Dowland on CD – without the
annoying coughs and other acoustical anomalies.
Truman C. Wang is editor of
Classical Voice, whose articles have appeared in the San Gabriel Valley Tribune,
the Pasadena Star-News and other Southern California publications.
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