In style and spirit, Noseda offers a Brahmsian evening at the National Symphony

National Symphony Orchestra
Gianandrea Noseda, conductor
Ying Fu, violin
Raymond Tsai, cello
Concert Hall
Kennedy Center
Washington, DC
March 14, 2026

Schumann: Overture to Manfred, Op. 115
Simon: Double Concerto Suite
Brahms: Symphony No. 3 in F major, Op. 90

Under the helm of music director Gianandrea Noseda, the weekend’s program at the National Symphony Orchestra traced the spirit of Brahms with works that influenced and were influenced by him, culminating in a symphony by the German composer himself. As per official decree from the current administration, all NSO concerts now begin with a rendition of the national anthem (led by the concertmaster, without the conductor present).

Gianandrea Noseda, Ying Fu, Carlos Simon, and Raymond Tsai with National Symphony Orchestra

Robert Schumann shaped Brahms’ musical language perhaps more than any other. A late work from the elder composer opened in the overture to the incidental music to Manfred. The complete work is rarely heard, but the overture functions well as a standalone piece. A bold opening was dialed back to the poignantly ponderous, gradually building again to intense, riveting drama. An especially sturdy brass section portrayed the brooding titular figure, only to arrive at a somber close.

A native of Washington, Carlos Simon has been serving as the NSO’s composer-in-residence since 2021. The present performances featured the world premiere of his Double Concerto Suite, with solo parts for violin and cello – a nod to Brahms’ own double concerto. Unlike most of Simon’s works, this music was purely abstract without an explicit program or inspiration. “Suite” is a key word in the title; its five movements were rather disparate and lacked the cohesion of a singular concerto. The soloists were drawn from the ranks of the NSO principals, Ying Fu (violin) and Raymond Tsai (cello) after Hilary Hahn and Seth Parker Woods withdrew in protest.

The work is substantial in scope at over thirty minutes. Energetic, colorful orchestration began, propelled by driving rhythms. Fu and Tsai were in a harmoniously blended dialogue with one another. The second movement featured lyrical playing from the cello with some touching double stops and a substantial solo passage for flute. A playful, good-natured movement followed, ahead of material that invoked the Delta Blues. The finale was a bit thornier, with frenetically interlocking material for a high-octane coda. While much of it was pleasing to the ears, I didn’t find it to be a work that made a lasting impression – and I was left wondering what Hilary Hahn might have managed with it.

The program concluded with Brahms’ autumnal Third Symphony in the strongest playing of the evening. Stormy beginnings belied its gentle core. Noseda’s baton gently floated, suspended, drawing out the bucolic textures, and under his pacing, matters were never stodgy as Brahms can be under lesser hands. The Saturday night audience had a tendency to applaud between movements; in the symphony Noseda seemed to consciously fight against it by leaving little space between.

Mellifluous winds opened the Andante, a tranquil essay capped off by the amber glow of the striking chord progression which closed. There was a gentle lilt to the Poco allegretto, and most of the dramatic tension was saved for the finale with its brassy splendor, though it found its way to a reflective close at peace with world.

Mao Fujita traces the development of Romanticism in Cleveland recital

Mao Fujita, piano
Mandel Concert Hall
Severance Music Center
Cleveland, OH
February 17, 2026

Beethoven: Piano Sonata No. 1 in F minor, Op. 2 No. 1
Wagner: In das Album Fürstin Metternich
Berg: Twelve Variations on an Original Theme
Mendelssohn: Variations sérieuses, Op. 54
Brahms: Piano Sonata No. 1 in C major, Op. 1
Liszt: Isoldes Liebestod, S447

Encore:
Rachmaninoff: Piano Sonata No. 1 in D minor, Op. 28 – Lento

In another memorable entry of The Cleveland Orchestra’s recital series, Japanese pianist Mao Fujita delivered a wind-ranging, thoughtfully-curated program at Severance Hall. This counted as his debut in the hall, having previously performed with TCO at Blossom in 2023. I recall viewing a live-streamed recital he gave in Berlin during the pandemic; even watching from my computer during those lonely days of lockdown, his playing was utterly enthralling, so an opportunity to see him in the flesh in Cleveland was unmissable.

Mao Fujita at Severance Hall

The program was quite interesting, mapping the development of Romanticism from Beethoven’s First Piano Sonata to perhaps the greatest culmination of it, Wagner’s Tristan und Isolde. For the first essay in a genre he would redefine with his incomparable cycle of 32 piano sonatas, Beethoven chose the key of F minor, one that would later be associated with some of Romanticism’s most impassioned works (think of Beethoven’s own Appassionata, Chopin’s Fourth Ballade or Fantasy, Liszt’s Transcendental Etude No. 10).

Though a stormy piece, at this point one never felt classical elegance was left far behind. I was struck by Fujita’s delicate, detailed playing, with a refined balance that deftly brought out the left hand. The finale of the four-movement sonata had a wide dynamic range, and here more than anywhere it seemed the seeds of Romanticism were firmly unleashed.

A pair of rarities followed, the first which was a miniature from someone usually rather maximalist — Richard Wagner. Ein Albumlatt is a gem of a piece, saying much in little by way of its wistful, longing melodic line. Alban Berg’s Twelve Variations on an Original Theme was quite a striking discovery, showing Berg as a late Romantic. It sounds almost nothing like atonal works we associate with him, and could very well be mistaken for a work by Brahms. The sprightly fourth variation was captivating in its leaps and bounds; subsequent variations in the form of canons were given with clarity ahead of the impassioned conclusion. 

Rounding out the first half was another but much better-known set of variations in Mendelssohn’s Variations sérieuses. Deft voicings in the brooding theme drew out the melody. The variations oscillated between intense drama and lyrical sensitivity, with Fujita a thoughtful interpreter across the spectrum. The work’s close was one of majestic power. 

The largest work on the program was the First Piano Sonata of Brahms. Brahms’ three works in the medium were written in rapid succession at the very beginning of his career. While the Third is an undisputed masterpiece, the first two remain compelling listens in their own right. A commanding opening showed a fountain of inspiration pouring from the composer’s youthful pen. A rapturously lyrical secondary theme offered contrast, while the development thundered with intensity.

The brief slow movement was of quiet resonance, upended by the scherzo bursting forth with explosive energy, an energy that in no way flagged for the jubilant finale. No matter how pianistically awkward the writing was, Fujita sailed through its technical demands and made an arresting case for this early work. Capping off the recital was the Liebestod from Wagner’s Tristan und Isolde in a magnificent piano transcription by Franz Liszt. Its divine melody and webs of chromaticism made for a deeply affecting close, as if the previous repertoire was mere warmup for this profoundly touching statement.

For a lone encore, Fujita turned to another First Piano Sonata, that of Rachmaninoff. Offering its slow movement, the pianist concluded the thought-provoking recital in music of languorous melancholy.

Hamelin’s powerful pianism opens the new year at Chamber Music Pittsburgh

Marc-André Hamelin, piano
Carnegie Music Hall
Pittsburgh, PA
January 12, 2026

Ives: Piano Sonata No. 2, Concord, Mass., 1840–60
Schumann: Waldszenen, Op. 82
Ravel: Gaspard de la nuit

Encores:
Ravel: Jeux d’eau
Rachmaninoff: Étude-tableau in E-flat minor, Op. 39 No. 5
Hamelin: Music Box, no. 5 from Con intimissimo sentimento

Opening 2026 at Chamber Music Pittsburgh – and the first major event of the local classical music calendar this year – was a much-anticipated solo recital from pianist Marc-André Hamelin. A piano on loan from Carnegie Mellon University had an imposing presence on the Carnegie Music Hall stage. Hamelin is among today’s most intrepid explorers of the instrument, never shying away from a work no matter how little known or technically demanding. This was amply apparent in the first half, which opened in uncompromising form by of Charles Ives’ Concord Sonata.

Marc-André Hamelin at Carnegie Music Hall

A mainstay of Hamelin’s repertoire for decades, there is no better champion of the massive work: virtually no one has more experience and expertise on it. Its four movements depict the 19th-century New England writers centered in Concord, Massachusetts. Emerson had bracing beginnings, with torrents of rich, muscular sound. It oscillated between gripping intensity and a dreamy evocation. Powerful bass lines drew out the three shorts notes followed by a long motif familiar from Beethoven’s Fifth, a gesture that serves as a binding element throughout the thorny sonata.

Hawthorne was mercurial and fantastical, filled with massive tone clusters and frenetic syncopations. Contrasting was the brief Alcotts, a respite from the dizzying complexities of the surrounding, radiant and direct in expression. In the closing Thoreau, the long journey arrived at a wistful reflection; one imagines the writer in quiet contemplation at shore of Walden Pond.

The latter half paired Schumann’s Waldszenen with Ravel’s Gaspard de la nuit – works I just saw him perform in October at Akron’s Tuesday Musical, but a welcome opportunity to revisit. The Schumann opened in a warm embrace, a beckoning welcome to the forest – and most captivating was the mystical Vogel als Prophet. The Ravel is a virtuosic tour de force – a bold choice to include on a program that opened with the Concord Sonata! From the shimmering Ondine to the funereal tolling of Le Gibet, matters concluded in thrilling fashion with the technical wizardry of Scarbo.

Hamelin generously offered three encores, beginning with more Ravel. Jeux d’eau made a fitting complement to Ondine, another mesmerizing impressionist evocation of water. An Etude-Tableau from Rachmaninoff filled the hall with its dense, robust chordal textures. And finally, a work by Hamelin himself: Music Box, an all too brief piece of insouciant charm.

Chamber Music Pittsburgh delights in Bach’s Brandenburgs

Members of the Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra and Carnegie Mellon School of Music
Carnegie Music Hall
Pittsburgh, PA
November 24, 2025

Bach: Brandenburg Concerto No. 3 in G major, BWV 1048
Bach: Brandenburg Concerto No. 1 in F major, BWV 1046
Bach: Brandenburg Concerto No. 2 in F major, BWV 1047
Bach: Brandenburg Concerto No. 5 in D major, BWV 1050
Bach: Brandenburg Concerto No. 6 in B-flat major, BWV 1051
Bach: Brandenburg Concerto No. 4 in G major, BWV 1049

Bach’s six Brandenburg Concertos have nothing to do with the holidays, yet their cheery, celebratory spirit makes them a favorite this time year. A survey of the complete series made for a satisfying evening at Chamber Music Pittsburgh during the week of Thanksgiving. No two of these concertos are scored for the same instrumentation, and a wide panoply of performers were culled from the ranks of the Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra and the Carnegie Mellon School of Music.

Brandenburg Concertos at Carnegie Music Hall, photos credit Michael Canton

No conductor was engaged (and nod to historical practice), and modern orchestral instruments were used (a nod to contemporary practice). And instead of proceeding in strictly numerical order, thoughtful contrasts and complements were suggested. The evening began with No. 3, a slighter work cast for strings alone, but charming and radiant nonetheless.

In No. 1, the strings were in mellifluous blend with the winds and brass (although the intonation of the horns left something to be desired). Under the astute leadership of violinist Callum Smart, the ensemble was in tight cohesion, culminating in the regal rhythms of the closing polonaise. Concerto No. 2 was marked by the resound of the clarion trumpet, in an impossibly high register.

No. 5 is a pianist’s dream with its outsized role for the keyboard. The remarkable Frederic Chiu was featured as soloist, playing on a modern Steinway rather than a harpsichord or fortepiano. He had a sparkling chemistry with the ensemble, with self-assured playing that rippled across the keyboard, and offered a mesmerizing take on the massive cadenza. No. 6 is perhaps the most intimate and understated of them all, and I liked the rich, husky tone the musicians conveyed. With a pair of flutes (used in place of recorders) and a complement of strings, the gentle and pastoral No. 4 drew the set to a spirited, heartfelt close.

The beauty of two cellos with Pablo Ferrández and the Pittsburgh Symphony

Pablo Ferrández, cello*†
David McCarroll, violin†
Justine Campagna, violin*
Dylan Naroff, violin†
Zhenwei Shi, viola*†
Anne Martindale Williams, cello*†

Heinz Hall
Pittsburgh, PA
November 15, 2025

Arensky: String Quartet No. 2 in A minor, Op. 35*
Schubert: String Quintet in C major, D956†

Following his lyrical and refined performance of Saint-Saëns with the Pittsburgh Symphony, the next evening cellist Pablo Ferrández was featured in a PSO360 program alongside string players drawn from the orchestra’s ranks — the first three of the violins, principal viola, and principal cello. Both the works programmed were strikingly scored for two cellos: the first a remarkable discovery, the latter, a pillar of the chamber repertoire.

L-R: Anne Martindale Williams, Pablo Ferrández, Zhenwei Shi, Justine Campagna

Anton Arensky’s Second String Quartet quite unusually doubles the cellos in place of the violins. I know of no other works with this scoring, but the rich sound makes it an instrumentation with intriguing potential. A resonant Russian hymn opened, a theme that would return at key hingepoints. Energetic, expressive, and virtuosic, Ferrández and the PSO players offered a well-balanced reading with taut communication.

The central movement was cast as a set of variations on a theme by Tchaikovsky (namely, the fifth of the Op. 54 Children’s Songs), a lovely homage from one composer to another. Arensky would go on to expand this movement as a standalone piece for string orchestra (catalogued as Op. 35a). I particularly enjoyed the fourth variation with its remarkably textured oscillations between pizzicato and arco playing, and the sleight-of-hand sixth variation was sprightly and buoyant. The finale made use of the Russian coronation anthem Slava!, and the intricate counterpoint of a fugato section made for a breathless close.

Schubert’s great C major string quintet is certainly the pinnacle of the form, and made for a rewarding second half. The spacious first movement was paced with ample room to breathe, and an intensely lyrical theme enveloped one in the richness of the two cellos (I loved the musical chemistry between Ferrández and Anne Martindale Williams). A profound lyricism was achieved in the slow movement, countered by the energy and rustic abandon of the scherzo — the trio of which had some strikingly spellbinding harmonies. The finale was given with an infectious rhythmic snap, in no way glossing over its delicate details.

In a way, this continued what’s been of brief exploration of Schubert’s late chamber music, following a recent post-concert performance of a movement from the D887 quartet. The originally announced program was to include a string quintet transcription of Beethoven’s Kreutzer sonata in place of the Arensky — a work which I’m nonetheless keen to explore.

L-R: David McCarroll, Dylan Naroff, Zhenwei Shi, Pablo Ferrández, Anne Martindale Williams

Valčuha leads Pittsburgh Symphony in lush Strauss, Saint-Saëns

Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra
Juraj Valčuha, conductor
Pablo Ferrández, cello
Heinz Hall
Pittsburgh, PA
November 14, 2025

Wolfe: Liberty Bell
Saint-Saëns: Cello Concerto No. 1 in A minor, Op. 33
 Encore:
 Bach: Sarabande from Cello Suite No. 3 in C major, BWV 1009
Strauss: Ein Heldenleben, Op. 40

Featuring a return to the Heinz Hall podium of Juraj Valčuha, this weekend’s PSO program opened with another entry in this season’s survey of American orchestral works. Receiving just its second performance was Julia Wolfe’s Liberty Bell, premiered in September at the Houston Symphony where Valčuha serves as music director. Based in the titular bell’s home of Philadelphia, Wolfe was on hand to introduce the piece in person (I liked how she described Philly and Pittsburgh as “the two pillars of Pennsylvania”).

Preconcert interview with Julia Wolfe and assistant conductor Moon Doh

The 10 minute work opened with the clangor of vigorously tolling bells. Perhaps suggested the Liberty Bell’s iconic crack, the jagged, interlocking rhythms conveyed a fractured texture. The orchestration was brilliantly colored, celebratory yet conscious of the struggle to arrive there. At moments, matters paused as if to provide moments of reflection. Drawing on a diversity of traditions, there was even a raucous rock and roll beat, leading to a bold climax splashed with the resonance of the bell.

Saint-Saëns’ Cello Concerto No. 1 in A minor saw the return of Spanish cellist Pablo Ferrández (who will also be featured in this season’s first PSO360 performance). Cast in three compact, interconnected movements, the cellist opened with a lyrical, burnished tone, achieving long-bowed, artful phrasing. The orchestra supported him with a supple, sympathetic accompaniment. The central slow movement opened with a hushed passage in the strings, and Ferrández joined in an intimate dialogue with the orchestra. The robust finale was filled with technical fireworks, yet still lyrical at heart. As an encore, Ferrández offered a Bach sarabande, stately and pure.

Strauss’ great orchestral showpiece Ein Heldenleben opened the second half with bold and heroic beginnings. Yet the conductor thoughtfully didn’t begin too loud, allowing ample room for the muscular brass to grow. “The Hero’s Adversaries” which follows depicts the cranky music critics that bedeviled Strauss — listening to this from the vantage point of being a critic is always a delightfully uncomfortable experience. “The Hero’s Companion” was a passionate and affecting portrait of the composer’s wife, the singer Pauline de Ahna. It featured an extensive and demanding passage for solo violin, played by concertmaster David McCarroll with wide-ranging emotion and variegated color.

A battle was heralded by offstage brass in the fourth section, music that really gets one’s blood flowing before devolving into utter cacophony. The final two sections were rather more restrained, in the twilight of the hero’s life, a retrospective on a life’s work. The music faded into graceful triumph, but not without revisiting the iconic opening of Also sprach Zarathustra.

Pablo Ferrández and Juraj Valčuha with the PSO

Takács Quartet marks 50th anniversary in return to Cleveland Chamber Music Society

Takács Quartet
Cultural Arts Center
Disciples Church
Cleveland Heights, OH
November 11, 2025

Haydn: String Quartet in G minor, Op. 74, No. 3, Hob. III:74, Rider
Bartók: String Quartet No. 3
Dvořák:  String Quartet No. 13 in G major, Op. 106

Encore:
Debussy: String Quartet in G minor – 2nd mvt.

Founded in 1975 while students at the Liszt Academy in Budapest, half a century later the Takács Quartet continues to offer a gold standard of string quartet playing — and remarkably, still counts one original member in its ranks (cellist András Fejér). Tuesday night marked a welcome return to the Cleveland Chamber Music Society (which celebrated its own 75th anniversary last season) where they have long been regular guests — in recent years, performing with Marc-André Hamelin and in a memorable Grieg/Shostakovich program.

Takács Quartet at the Cleveland Chamber Music Society

The so-called father of the string quartet, Haydn is always a rewarding composer with which to begin a string quartet recital. Tuesday’s selection was the Rider quartet in its bristling G minor. It opened in quintessential Haydnesque fashion with its delicate ornamentations and sudden pauses. This genteel material was given with tight cohesion, carefully conveying its layered textures with clarity. Some striking modulations were heard in the slow movement before an elegant minuet countered by a rather stormy trio (usually it’s the trio that’s the calmer one). The fiery, galloping finale is what gave this work its epithet, and Haydn had the last laugh with its humorously deceptive close.

Of Bartók’s six iconoclastic quartets, the Third is the shortest but also the most concentrated. It’s quite unusual in form, too, with two contrasting parts subsequently repeated in a loose mirror of their initial presentation. Protean strands began, organically growing in weight and intensity — preconcert lecturer Kevin McLaughlin aptly compared this soundscape to Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring. A panoply of extended techniques were deployed, yielding an array of captivating sounds. Melodically, harmonically, and rhythmically intricate, the second part was blistering in its driving appropriation of folk song. The so-called Ricapitulazione of first part surfaced like a distant dream of the opening before the work’s uncompromising close.

It was lovely to hear Dvořák on a string quartet program in a piece that isn’t the justly famous American quartet. The Takács instead offered the Bohemian composer’s penultimate work in the genre: no. 13 in G major, Op. 106 (I was also reminded the Apollon Musagète Quartet presenting Dvořák’s final quartet on a CCMS program in February 2020, just ahead of the covid shutdown). In these last two works in the form, Dvořák sailed to new heights, only to then turn his attention away from chamber music and to opera and the tone poem.

Gentle gestures opened to set an intoxicatingly bucolic mood, only to grow in dramatic tension and orchestral heft. First violinist Edward Dusinberre had a soaring melodic line, and the broad first moment movement drew to particularly robust coda. Rich textures were layered on top of each in the angelic slow movement, somewhat reminiscent of Beethoven’s Heiliger Dankgesang. At its conclusion, some earthy pentatonicism reminded us this came from the same pen as the man wrote the New World symphony.

Even more quintessential Dvořák came in the following, wherein the composer proudly displayed his Czech origin in the shape of a spunky furiant. I was struck by the Takács intense physicality here, playing with their whole bodies. The bold, wide-ranging finale was given with unified direction for a powerful close.

As an encore, the quartet turned to the second movement of Debussy’s sole work in the medium in a show of their versatility, equally adept in the Frenchman’s impressionist enigma.

Marc-André Hamelin offers probing virtuosity at Akron’s Tuesday Musical

Marc-André Hamelin, piano
EJ Thomas Hall
Akron, OH
October 21, 2025

Beethoven: Piano Sonata No. 29 in B-flat major, Op. 106, Hammerklavier
Schumann: Waldszenen, Op. 82
Ravel: Gaspard de la nuit

Encore:
Debussy: Reflets dans l’eau (No. 1 from Images, Book 1)

No part of Marc-André Hamelin’s recital at Akron’s Tuesday Musical was for the faint of heart. The repertoire spanned a mammoth Beethoven sonata, the rewarding Romanticism of Schumann, and Ravel at his most mercurial and ferocious. Opening night of Tuesday Musical’s 138th(!) season, Hamelin served as the annual Margaret Baxtresser Pianist, in which capacity he led a masterclass at Kent State the following day. Additionally, the evening performance began with a rippling account of Liszt’s La leggierezza by local high school student Saya Uejima.

Marc-André Hamelin at EJ Thomas Hall, photo credit Tuesday Musical

Along with the Diabelli Variations, the Hammerklavier is Beethoven’s largest and most demanding work for solo piano. A granite monument of the piano literature, Hamelin has recently recorded it to acclaim. As if totally unfazed by its technical demands, it comprised merely the first half of Tuesday’s recital. The bold Allegro movement made for a commanding beginning. Hamelin opted to strike the opening bass note with the right hand rather than the left for added power. Textures were crisp and brisk, with deft voicing of its intricacies, balancing the exuberant with more graceful material. The development saw some spiky contrapuntal passages, a preview of sorts for what was to come, before the movement’s blistering, uncompromising coda.

Though short in length, the scherzo that followed was hardly a trifle. Hamelin conjured a tempest, though an impulse towards restraint here kept the otherwise tumultuous writing in check. What followed was the work’s magnificent slow movement. Drawing on deep reserves of emotion, Hamelin sustained a spellbinding atmosphere over its nearly twenty-minute duration. Worlds apart from the robustness of the outer movements, here Hamelin purveyed a velvety touch to striking effect, landing on the profound sequence of chords that closed, beautifully voiced. With meditative, improvisatory beginnings, the massive fugue that concluded the sonata saw Hamelin at his best — a dazzling technique used in service of the music.

Schumann’s Waldszenen (Forest Scenes) made for a genial opening to the second half. Eintritt (Arrival) extended a warm and gracious entry into the forest, played with rippling lyricism. Hunting songs came second and second-to-last in this nine-part suite, in both cases given with vigorous flexibility. I was touched by the delicate nostalgia of Einsame Blumen (Lonely Flowers) and the uber-Romantic lushness of Herberge (Wayside Inn). The closing Abschied (Farewell) bid adieu with the same warmth with which it began.

The evening concluded with another work famous for its extraordinary technical demands in Ravel’s Gaspard de la nuit. Though a mainstay of Hamelin’s recital programs for years, it’s the only work of the present selection he has not yet recorded. The work brings to life in musical terms poems by Aloysious Bertrand, all of which deal with fantastical, rather demonic figures — a seasonally appropriate selection for late October! Ondine positively shimmered in this remarkable soundworld of the titular water nymph, building to an ecstatic climax. Le Gibet was a striking contrast in its funereal stasis ahead of Scarbo, closing with a spattering of iridescent colors and ferocious virtuosity.

Hamelin offered just a single encore in Debussy’s Reflets dans l’eau, which like Ondine, paints a mesmerizingly impressionist aquatic scene. A clip of Hamelin discussing the work can be viewed here.

Two years ago, I saw Hamelin play a very similar program in Cleveland with another massive piano sonata — Charles Ives’ Concord — in place of the Hammerklavier. See review here. Lastly, Hamelin was on hand ahead of his Akron recital for a brief but affable interview with WCLV’s Jacqueline Gerber, available for listening here.

A colorful and cinematic season opener at the Westmoreland Symphony

Westmoreland Symphony Orchestra
Daniel Meyer, conductor
Timothy Chooi, violin
Palace Theatre
Greensburg, PA
October 18, 2025

Khachaturian: Suite from Masquerade
Korngold: Violin Concerto in D major, Op. 35
 Encore:
 Corigliano: Red Violin Caprices
Borodin: Symphony No. 2 in B minor

Last weekend, the Westmoreland Symphony Orchestra opened its 57th season at Greensburg’s Palace Theatre. The repertoire selected for the occasion was not only alluring, but somewhat off-kilter for an evening that skirted any overly-familiar warhorses. Opening the program was the five-movement suite from Aram Khachaturian’s incidental music to the Lermontov play Masquerade.

Timothy Chooi performs with Daniel Meyer and the Westmoreland Symphony, photo credit WSO

One of the Armenian composer’s most recognizable melodies came in the opening Waltz, given with panache. A languid Nocturne contrasted, with a fine solo from concertmaster Jason Neukom. Conductor Daniel Meyer gave the flamboyant Mazurka character by way of a flexible rubato. A lyrical trumpet solo (Adam Gillespie) highlighted the Romance ahead of the tongue-in-cheek Galop which closed.

The sumptuous Violin Concerto of Erich Wolfgang Korngold introduced Timothy Chooi as soloist. Lush, honeyed sounds of this late-Romantic idiom were searingly beautiful, and Chooi’s attention to detail conveyed its intricacies with artful phrasing. The central Romance was of quiet repose before energetic finale of coruscating virtuosity. As an encore, Chooi further impressed in a technically brilliant segment of the Red Violin Caprices by John Corigliano.

The real rarity came in Alexander Borodin’s Symphony No. 2 in B minor which occupied the second half. Though seldom-performed, it’s Borodin’s most important large-scale instrumental work, and one of few symphonic examples from the so-called Russian Five. A big-boned theme — this was not an evening for subtlety — that drew on Russian folk tradition made for an attention-getting opening. The writing is perhaps a bit heavy-handed, but Meyer’s careful balance ensured matters weren’t overdone.

A fleet scherzo danced by, almost in the manner of Mendelssohn, and a downtempo section was especially lovely — and included some striking scoring for flute and triangle. The Andante was noted for a gleaming horn solo (Mark Addleman), setting up the grandiose and jubilant finale.

WSO and Daniel Meyer at the Palace Theatre

Robin Ticciati makes notable Pittsburgh debut with impassioned Berlioz

Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra
Robin Ticciati, conductor
Francesco Piemontesi, piano
Heinz Hall
Pittsburgh, PA
October 10, 2025

Beethoven: Piano Concerto No. 4 in G major, Op. 58
 Encore:
 Mozart: Piano Sonata No. 12 in F major, K332 – 2. Adagio
Berlioz: Symphonie fantastique, Op. 14

The second week of the Pittsburgh Symphony’s 2025-26 subscription season saw the first of several debuts on tap in British conductor Robin Ticciati. The program was comprised of two major and deeply rewarding works, one at the precipice of Romanticism, the other, the epitome of Romanticism. Beethoven’s genial Piano Concerto No. 4 brought back pianist Francesco Piemontesi, last appearing on this stage just a few months ago.

Offstage bells used in the Symphonie fantastique

The solo piano opened the work with a gentle resonance, followed by a long-breathed orchestral exposition. The most intimate and personal of Beethoven’s five piano concertos, Piemontesi drew deep reserves of expression. His thoughtful, probing playing perhaps recalled that of his mentor, Alfred Brendel, and he found great drama in the cadenza. In the Andante con moto, coarse strings introduced the plaintive piano, arriving at a spiritual stasis amidst moments of agitation. As if unsure what direction to go after, the closing rondo started in hesitation before robustly bursting forth with vigor and abandon. For an encore, the pianist selected a lovely slow movement from a Mozart sonata.

Revolutionary a work as it may be, Berlioz’s Symphonie fantastique was written only three years after Beethoven’s death. Tentative beginnings introduced a dreamlike trance, and Ticciati teased out the richness of the strings, favoring minimal vibrato. I was struck by his energetic conducting, nearly using his entire body as his baton danced along to the music. Still, at times the orchestral balance left something to be desired. The first presentation of the idée fixe that binds the work was graceful and filled with longing.

In Un bal, the harps introduced an elegant waltz theme; a striking dialogue between English horn and offstage oboe opened the central Scène aux champs. A widely contrasting portrait of nature, matters went from the calm to the passionate to the stormy, ending with the forlorn English horn all alone. Matters came alive in the iconic Marche au supplice, given an energetic workout in all its brassy splendor. The closing Songe d’une nuit du sabbat opened in an eerie soundscape, filled with the striking timbres of the shrill E-flat clarinet, tolling bells (performed offstage from the lobby), and a chilling invocation of the Dies irae chant in the low brass.

In a post-concert performance, Piemontesi teamed up with PSO wind players for the latter two movements of Beethoven’s Quintet for Piano and Winds. A lovely pendant to the evening, and given the pianist’s chemistry with these players, I’d love to see him perform as part of the orchestra’s PSO360 series.

Two personal notes. One of my fondest concert memories consists of this same Beethoven/Berlioz pairing. The first of many performances I attended at Vienna’s Musikverein during a formative college year in the Austrian capital, conductor and piano were respectively Claudio Abbado and Maurizio Pollini — two of my musical heroes who are sadly no longer with us.

I am eagerly anticipating Marc-André Hamelin’s next album Found Objects/Sound Objects, due for release at the end of the month. In quintessential MAH fashion, it’s an enterprising blend of little-known works mostly dating from the last half-century. The disc concludes with his own Hexensabbat (Witches’ Sabbath). With obvious allusions to the Berlioz (including use of the Dies irae), how fitting it was for the track to be released as a single the same day as the PSO performance — and it’s a thrilling listen.

Francesco Piemontesi, Robin Ticciati, and the PSO