Columbus Symphony Orchestra Rossen Milanov, conductor Zhu Wang, piano Ohio Theatre Columbus, OH May 7, 2023
Mussorgsky: Dawn on the Moscow River from Khovanshchina Rachmaninov: Piano Concerto No. 2 in C minor, Op. 18 Tchaikovsky: Symphony No. 5 in E minor, Op. 64
For the penultimate installment of the Masterworks series, Rossen Milanov and the Columbus Symphony turned towards the Russian repertoire in a program anchored by favorites of Rachmaninov and Tchaikovsky. The afternoon began, however, with Mussorgsky’s Dawn on the Moscow River, a quantity which serves as the prelude to his opera Khovanshchina. The CSO opted for its orchestration by Rimsky-Korsakov, though some years later Shostakovich devised an effective version as well. A gentle ebb and flow made for a touchingly restrained musical sunrise – quite a contrast to the sunrises one might find in a Strauss tone poem!
Zhu Wang, photo credit zhuwangpiano.com
Rachmaninov’s evergreen Second Piano Concerto followed with pianist Zhu Wang. Wang’s fluid playing blended well with the orchestra, probing at its lyrical heart. Still, one wanted more dramatic tension, and I found his reading a bit too cool and reserved. The slow movement was sweetly nostalgic and had the pianist in lovely dialogue with the clarinet, though it bordered on the sentimental. Wang gave the finale with vigor and virtuosity, balancing out the more extrovert material with the composer’s quintessentially lush melodies.
Hollow winds opened Tchaikovsky’s Fifth Symphony for a haunting statement of the fate motif that binds the work, and soon surged to great passions. Darkly resonant material began the slow movement with a gorgeous horn solo from Brian Mangrum. Deeply affecting, this movement saw perhaps the most inspired playing of the afternoon. A gently lilting Valse was contrasted with more animated material, and the fate motif returned, pointing inexorably towards the driving finale.
Merz Trio Southern Theatre Columbus, OH May 6, 2023
Hu: An Eternal Hope Rachmaninov: Trio élégiaque No. 1 in G minor Al-Zand: Lines in Motion Shostakovich: Piano Trio No. 1 in C minor, Op. 8 Schumann: Piano Trio No. 2 in F major, Op. 80
Encore: Piaf: La Vie en rose
Chamber Music Columbus’ 75th season has now come to a close, and what a celebration it has been. Seven momentous concerts, each featuring a newly commissioned work, and the season finale from the Merz Trio certainly closed matters on a high note. A particularly lush program, leaning heavily into the Romantic repertoire, it was an evening of energetic and virtuosic performance.
Merz Trio with Karim Al-Zand and Ching-chu Hu, photo credit Merz Trio
Ching-Chu Hu is certainly a familiar presence at the Southern Theatre by now, and the Merz Trio presented the final piece of his season-long fanfare, titled An Eternal Hope. In his spoken remarks, Hu noted the work conveys a hope for growth, beautifully timed with the advent of spring here in early May. A busy piano part made this rather more extrovert than some of the previous installments. It evoked a certain radiance and built to a bold finish. The trio has recently undergone a changing of the guard with a new pianist; one would never have guessed she was new to ensemble given how seamlessly she gelled with her string colleagues.
Rachmaninov’s first Trio élégiaque opened with a soft, undulating gesture in the strings, setting up a distinctly Russian melody in the piano. Though the composer was a mere 18 year old when writing the work, its sumptuous melody and surging passions left little doubt as to who the composer was, with the work fulfilling the promise of its title in leading to a somber, funereal close. Another early work from a major Russian composer followed in a C minor trio from the pen of a 16 year old Shostakovich. Though there were hints of his idiosyncratic wit and sarcasm, it was largely a Romantic work, with meditative beginnings and particularly lovely passage in thirds on the piano.
Sandwiched between the Russian works was Lines in Motion, a commission from Karim Al-Zand, first performed this past January at Chamber Music Houston, where the composer is based. A he discussed in our interview, Al-Zand has a particular affinity for extramusical inspirations. Lines in Motion was no exception, with the composer pointing to selected black and white woodcut illustrations (helpfully reproduced in the program books), corresponding to each of the three movements. As the title suggests, each of prints in question striking use geometric lines to convey a sense of motion on the printed page.
The opening On the Big Sea took inspiration from René Quillivic’s En pleine mar. Roiling piano figurations were answered by calming lines in the strings, and I heard shades of French Impressionism which often used water and the sea as subject material. Angular gestures and bright, brilliant textures dominated In the Big City, capturing the busy skyscraper scene of Frans Masereel’s America. At the Spirit Dance (a nod to Rhythms by Wharton Esherick) was of energetic, driving dance rhythms for a rollicking close. This is a work I certainly look forward to hearing again.
The latter half was devoted to Schumann’s F major piano trio, a work uncharacteristically cheery and optimistic for the often depressive composer. The ensemble purveyed an attractive, singing tone in articulating the bounty of beautiful melody the composer provided. Sophisticated contrapuntal passages provided some textural contrast, delivered with nuanced clarity. The second movement bears the marking Mit innigem Ausdruck (“with innermost expression”), and it was indeed a look inward, lovingly conveyed.
The following movement was marked by a loose suggestion of a waltz figure, while the finale excited in its further use of counterpoint, giving each individual voice of the trio the space to shine. An well-deserved encore was offered, namely, an arrangement of Edith Piaf’s song La Vie en rose, wistful and nostaglic. A memorable close to a memorable season!
Maria João Pires, piano Mandel Concert Hall Severance Music Center Cleveland, OH May 3, 2023
Schubert: Piano Sonata No. 13 in A major, D664 Debussy: Suite bergamasque, L75 Schubert: Piano Sonata No. 21 in B-flat major, D960
Encore: Debussy: No.1 from Deux arabesques, L66
The Cleveland Orchestra’s inaugural recital series came to a divinely inspired close Wednesday evening, with Maria João Pires showing herself a true poet of the piano in works of Schubert and Debussy. Pires officially retired from the concert stage in 2017 – I sorely regretted missing her Cleveland appearance the previous year upon hearing that news – making the present recital all the more wonderful of an occasion, evidenced by the sizable and enthusiastic audience.
Maria João Pires at Severance Hall
Pires began with Schubert’s Piano Sonata No. 13 – middle period Schubert, still very much in the classical style insofar as it predated the sublime late sonatas, but not without the composer’s individual hallmark markedly apparent. Matters opened gracious and gentle, but colored by passing shadows in quintessentially Schubertian effect. Pires deftly shaped the phrasing and melody; stormier material in the development offered contrast but only for a fleeting moment before we returned to sunny A major. The Andante showed the pianist’s detailed voicing and nuance; the finale’s sprightly fingerwork playfully contrasted.
Debussy’s Suite bergamasque followed. The opening Prélude was given confident, self-assured beginnings, but not without an essential lyricism. Distinctive dance rhythms marked the Menuet, burgeoning to more impassioned material. Though Clair de lune is often presented as a standalone piece, it was quite intriguing hearing it in the context of the whole suite. Familiar a work as it may be, Pires’ lovely reading was anything but routine. A foil to its shimmering stasis came in the Passepied, an essay of near perpetual motion.
Schubert’s transcendent final piano sonata occupied the second half, and it truly was nothing short of a spiritual experience. An elegantly sculpted melodic line wondrously took shape, punctuated by profound silence after its first statement. Pires was particularly remarkable in the way she varied bringing out the inner voices, never content to merely repeat a phrase in the same way twice, and her keen attention to balance and coloring kept one in rapturous attention. The pianist took the long repeat of the first movement exposition, offering its dramatic first ending that would otherwise have been jettisoned. Distant keys were explored in the development before the movement’s serene close.
Pires opted for minimal pedaling in the Andante sostenuto, allowing the dotted rhythmic gesture to be strikingly detached, seemingly making the sumptuously gorgeous central section resound all the more lyrical. The scintillating scherzo was wonderfully charming, and the myriad guises in which the main theme recurred in the closing rondo oscillated between the insouciant and the dramatic.
For a lone encore, Pires returned to Debussy in the first of the Arabesques, an account limpid and lithe. Certainly a high bar on which to conclude the recital series, and kudos to the Cleveland Orchestra administration for such a successful endeavor. Next season’s offerings provide much to look forward to with solo recitals or chamber collaborations from Marc-André Hamelin, Emanuel Ax, Yefim Bronfman, and Evgeny Kissin.
Calidore String Quartet Southern Theatre Columbus, OH April 1, 2023
Hu: A Wondrous Hope Mozart: String Quartet No. 17 in B-flat major, K458, The Hunt Watkins: String Quartet No. 2 Beethoven: String Quartet No. 16 in F major, Op. 135
Encore: Beethoven: Cavatina from String Quartet No. 13 in B-flat major, Op. 130
The penultimate installment of Chamber Music Columbus’ 75th season saw the Calidore Quartet – the third consecutive string quartet to be featured this season – in a program anchored by major works of Mozart and Beethoven. The next “puzzle piece” of Ching-Chu Hu’s ubiquitous fanfare opened the evening, titled A Wondrous Hope. Filled with yearning, it explored different combinations within the quartet in harmonious balance, and shifts in texture added variety and color.
Mozart’s Hunt quartet was given with deft balance and clear articulation – particularly evident during the delicate ornaments – and a genteel approach at times tempered by a more rustic feel, fitting per its epithet. The minuet danced with light touch and an elegant melody from first violinist Jeffrey Myers (who also appeared on this stage during the season-opening performance with VIVO). The Adagio was a songful, flowing statement, and like the best of Mozart’s finales, the closing movement was of high spirits and exuberance.
Though unable to make it to Columbus in person, Huw Watkins conveyed to the trio his “thoughts of joy and optimism” when writing his String Quartet No. 2, premiered by Calidore at the Wigmore Hall last May, with Saturday counting as the first American performance. Starting with a single pluck, fragments of themes coalesced, signaling much potential to be explored. Matters took flight, fluttering into the strings’ high register, and was given an energetic workout. A central slow movement began sweetly nostalgic, growing in urgency as the composer explored more dissonant harmonies, though never straying too far from resolute tonality. The opening pluck returned to set off the finale of vigorous, pungent harmonies, closing in a burst of energy.
Beethoven’s final string quartet (the last major work he completed) closed the evening. A resonant gesture in the viola began, evidencing the ensemble’s keen attention to the inner voices for a reading refined and reflective. The Vivace was of rhythmic vitality and intricacy, and not without some unexpected syncopations. Deeply felt, the plaintive slow movement unfolded with eloquence, a divinely beautiful prayer. A discursive, questioning gesture initiated the wide-ranging finale, further demonstrating the quartet’s chemistry and cohesion.
Introducing the encore, Myers – a Columbus native – spoke fondly of the influence of two luminary violinists we have sadly lost in recent months, Charles Weatherbee and David Niwa. Dedicating the closing selection of Beethoven’s Cavatina from the op. 130 quartet to their memory, it was a gorgeous, loving tribute.
ProMusica Chamber Orchestra David Danzmayr, conductor Ellen Connors, bassoon St Mary Catholic Church Columbus, OH March 19, 2023
Strauss: Serenade in E-flat major, Op. 7 Villa-Lobos: Ciranda das sete notas, W325 Tauský: Coventry: Meditation for Strings Mozart: Symphony No. 38 in D major, K504, Prague
In a continued effort to reach wider audiences, ProMusica presents a “neighborhood series,” leaving their usual home at the Southern Theatre in favor of various locations throughout Columbus. I caught Sunday afternoon’s performance at the beautiful St Mary Church in German Village. A youthful Serenade by Richard Strauss opened. The winds and brass for which it was scored were warm and mellifluous in this classically-proportioned work, hardly foreshadowing the extravagant use of those instruments in the mighty tone poems that would follow. The ensemble filled the church almost like an organ; such a venue can suffer from excessive reverberation, though apparent, conductor David Danzmayr did much to adapt to the space.
Ellen Connors with David Danzmayr and ProMusica at St Mary, photo credit ProMusica
Villa-Lobos’ single movement Ciranda das sete notas (“Round Dance of Seven Notes”) brought forth ProMusica’s principal bassoon Ellen Connors. There was a wonderful energy present from the onset, and the richly harmonized material captured one’s attention. Connors offered a clear tone with playing surprisingly limber for such a lumbering instrument. The work demanded a substantial range and speed, with barely a moment for the soloist the breathe even in the slower central section. The meditative final moments were especially lovely.
A work for strings from the Czech composer Vilém Tauský followed. A Jew, he was forced to flee in homeland in 1939, settling in England where he remained until his death in 2004. Coventry, written in 1979, reflects with raw emotion on the trauma of war. One was struck by the resonance of low strings that opened, soon to be joined by the violins. Lyrical at heart but peppered with dissonances pained and poignant, it was a piece of solemn intensity that painted a forlorn picture.
Mozart’s Prague symphony was a markedly cheerier affair. Only a small handful of the composer’s 41 symphonies begin with a slow introduction; the Prague has the most substantial, stately and weighty beginnings before one of Mozart’s most delightful themes took shape. Danzmayr opted for a brisk tempo choice, but clarity was maintained even during the bracing development. A graceful and measured slow movement served as a moment of repose before the whirlwind finale, wherein the ProMusica woodwinds were in especially fine form.
Columbus Symphony Orchestra Rossen Milanov, conductor Aaron Diehl, piano Ohio Theatre Columbus, OH March 17, 2023
Perry: Study for Orchestra Gershwin: Concerto in F Tchaikovsky: Suite from The Nutcracker, Op. 71a Ellington/Strayhorn: The Nutcracker Suite
The Columbus Symphony’s program served as a colorful depiction of elements of jazz seeping into the classical tradition – and vice-versa. Matters began on a different note, however, with an example of the considerable body of work from the often forgotten 20th century American composer Julia Perry. A native of Lexington, Kentucky who spent her final years in Akron, Ohio, her reputation was tragically stifled by the establishment’s prejudices towards an African-American woman.
Aaron Diehl in conversation with Rossen Milanov
Nonetheless, she produced a substantial output – including more than ten symphonies – and the 1952 Study for Orchestra, included on the present program, was performed by the New York Philharmonic in 1965, certainly a major milestone. Bracing, strident beginnings gave way to more lyrical interludes. Albeit brief, it was a work of adroit craftsmanship, and certainly piqued my interest in discovering more of her music.
Gershwin’s great Concerto in F filled the balance of the first half, and was fitting platform for the belated CSO debut of Aaron Diehl – a Columbus native, Juilliard-trained, and equally at home in classical and jazz. A thunderous opening in the timpani pointed towards a lively Charleston rhythm. The pianist’s entry was graceful and elegant, with the virtuosity and vigor quickly ramping up. An impassioned lyrical melody served as the first movement’s climax, as lush as anything Rachmaninov wrote.
The brass with which the slow movement opened evidenced Gershwin’s skill at orchestration, much improved from the earlier Rhapsody in Blue for which he had the enlist the assistance of Ferde Grofé. The gently cascading piano was quite lovely, and the cadenza afforded Diehl the opportunity to improvise – and the orchestra musicians seemed to be watching him in awe. A motoric toccata-like movement closed the work with a big-boned finish. Diehl offered an encore (perhaps of his own composition?) that filled the theater with ethereal jazz harmonies.
In 1960, Duke Ellington released an album re-imagining Tchaikovsky’s Nutcracker as a jazz piece. Conductor Rossen Milanov cleverly devised a suite in which Tchaikovsky’s originals were interwoven with Ellington’s take, and it was quite fascinating to hear them juxtaposed. Delicate musical tinsel marked the opening Overture; in the ensuing Ellington version, the orchestra seamlessly morphed into a bona fide jazz band. Ellington’s adaptation of the Marche was styled as the “Peanut Brittle Brigade”; it expanded the rhythm and harmonies while the source material remained recognizable. In the “Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy” the celesta sparkled; Ellington’s “Sugar Rum Cherry” retooled it for sax and brass. Tchaikovsky was given the final word, however, with a lush and lilting “Waltz of the Flowers.”
Sheridan K. Currie, viola Jonathan Lee, cello Kenneth Shaw, baritone Kayla Oderah, soprano
Dayton Philharmonic Chorus Steven Hankle, chorus director
Mead Theatre Schuster Performing Arts Center Dayton, OH March 11, 2023
Boulanger: Pour les funérailles d’un soldat Schelle: Resilience Vaughan Williams: Symphony No. 3, Pastoral
Last weekend’s Dayton Philharmonic program was commendable for its organization around a common theme – reflections of war and aspirations for peace – as well selections that lie well outside the standard repertoire, likely unfamiliar quantities even to seasoned concertgoers. Lili Boulanger is one of the most tragic figures of 20th-century music, dying far too soon at age 24. Her work Pour les funérailles d’un soldat, written when she was 19, provided a captivating introduction to her compositional potential.
Kayla Oderah and Neal Gittleman with the Dayton Philharmonic and Chorus
Music director Neal Gittleman – one of the last Americans to study with the composer’s better-known older sister, Nadia – fittingly described the work as a “mini-requiem,” scored for orchestra with choir and baritone soloist. Rumbling timpani opened, soon to be joined by funereal brass. The choir joined in with French text of a poem by Alfred de Musset; on cue with the line “Qu’on dise devant nous la prière des morts” (“Let the prayer of the dead be said before us”), the Dies irae appeared hauntingly in the strings. Kenneth Shaw delivered a powerful baritone, imposing in its solemnity, and the work faded away with the beating pulse of the timpani. A composer with the prodigious gifts of a Mendelssohn, writing fully polished works as a mere teenager.
Michael Schelle’s 2014 work Resilience was written to commemorate the 70th anniversary of World War II, of which his father was a veteran and his mother a nurse. A double concerto for viola and cello, it featured DPO principals Sheridan Currie and Jonathan Lee. Cast in three movements, the first concerns the European theater, the second the Pacific, and the last amounts to a prayer for peace. As the title suggests, the work takes inspiration from resilience in the face of adversity.
Percussive beginnings opened the work in shocking intensity in the first movement “Dachaulieder.” Dense textures pervaded, and the soloists entered with an eloquent invocation of a theme from Mendelssohn’s String Quartet No. 2. A further musical allusion came in the shape of quite literally a song from Dachau – namely, a melody found carved into the prison walls. As with the Mendelssohn, it celebrated the voices of Jewish composers which the Nazi regime attempted to silence. The soloists played with committed intensity and fervor, bringing clarity to chaos. A mournful clarinet passage, later answered by the duo, was another striking moment.
Double concertos for violin and cello are somewhat common (think Brahms), but turning things a notch lower by way of the viola here fittingly gave the music a more somber tone. The central “Rising Sun, Falling Sky” opened in stillness. Sighing gestures took form, with pizzicato passages angular and uneasy. A large metal spring – one of Schelle’s signature musical effects – made for striking sounds from the percussion section, but this was a movement generally inward and introspective. The clash of the beginning resurfaced in the closing “Blast of Silence”, in due course arriving at a serene lyricism with particularly lovely and intimate material from the duo, and the work faded away in hopeful resolution.
If there’s one composer who wrote a substantial body of symphonies that tend to be overlooked, surely it would be Ralph Vaughan Williams with nine major entries to his name. In his 150th anniversary year, I’ve enjoyed turning attention to them (and have particularly fond memories of hearing the Sixth in Cincinnati). This weekend the DPO offered the Third, known as the Pastoral. The composer was deeply moved by the startling emptiness of the English countryside following the mass casualties of the First World War; hardly a bucolic affair, the symphony captures those emotions. Pastoral-sounding winds opened – though I found Gittleman’s tempo choice a bit fast – introducing a striking, coloristic chord progression. Concertmaster Aurelian Oprea articulated a theme with fragile lyricism.
A forlorn horn solo opened the Lento moderato, and the strings meandered into mournful depths. An extended passage for solo trumpet – intentionally meant to sound out of tune to mimic an amateur military bugler – resounded to desolate effect. Though functioning as the scherzo and the most extrovert of the four movements, the Moderato pesante was hardly festive, lumbrous and weighed down, even including a thorny fugue. The closing Lento opened with a haunting wordless vocal from offstage, given with feeling by soprano Kayla Oderah. As one final elegiac paragraph, the movement was further highlighted by a touching flute solo, and Oderah was given the last word before music drifted to silence.
Neal Gittleman, Michael Schelle, Sheridan K. Currie, and Jonathan Lee during the post-concert discussion
Louisville Chamber Choir University of Louisville Collegiate Chorale Kent Hatteberg, director Youth Performing Arts School Chamber Choir Jacob Cook, director
Whitney Hall Kentucky Center for the Performing Arts Louisville, KY March 4, 2023
TJ Cole: Phenomenal of the Earth Neuwirth: Masaot/Clocks Without Hands Bernstein: Symphony No. 3, Kaddish
It isn’t often that a work from the 1960s is the oldest work on a program from a major symphony orchestra. But such was the case on the Louisville Orchestra’s enterprising selection Saturday evening, the first of their “Journeys of Faith” series which thoughtfully explores connections of faith and music. Opening the program was a product of the LO’s Creators Corps, in which they have not one, but three composers in residence this season.
L-R: Teddy Abrams, Kent Hatteberg, Nicholas Claussen, Katie Cook, Jacob Cook, Amanda Majewski, and Keisha Dorsey with the Louisville Orchestra and Choruses
Featured Saturday was TJ Cole in the world premiere of Phenomenal of the Earth, scored for synthesizer and orchestra – with the composer also serving as soloist on the synth. Clad in a dress adorned with sunflowers, Cole’s attire gave a not so subtle hint as to the work’s central theme, an expression of their love for the natural world. There’s a bit of a duality at play in selecting an electronic instrument to represent nature, but the synthesizer has the ability to adapt in real time, responding to the natural world’s constant state of flux.
Matters began with a barely audible drone, soon to build to a wash of cacophony, as if overwhelmed by the natural surroundings – much of the work was written during the composer’s residency in Bernheim Forest, a place with a longstanding connection to the arts. The synthesizer blended well with the orchestra in a way that didn’t feel terribly contrived, illuminating the possibilities of a concerto for synthesizer. I was somewhat reminded of the work of Mason Bates who has an uncanny ability to meld acoustic instruments with electronica. Cole’s piece felt a bit repetitive at times, but drew novel sounds from the musicians on stage – most memorably, with plastic tubes to generate the sound of the wind, as well as Cole’s own vocalizations, later joined by other members of the orchestra. A work of great energy, it was a lovely paean to nature, ending much like it began in mirror of the cyclical quality of its inspiration.
Olga Neuwirth’s 2013 work Masaot/Clocks Without Hands was written on a commission from the Vienna Philharmonic to commemorate the centennial of Mahler’s death. Winner of the Grawenmeyer Award in 2022 – awarded just a few miles away at the University of Louisville – the Austrian composer also attended music director Teddy Abrams’ alma mater, the San Francisco Conservatory of Music. Abrams had such an engaging way of introducing the work, it made one excited to dive in, certainly quelling any anxieties about an unfamiliar contemporary piece. The work was inspired by a dream the composer had about her grandfather, whose experience of anti-Semitism in fin de siècle Vienna likely mirrored Mahler’s.
The titular “clocks without hands” refers to the inner rhythm we all have, represented in the scoring by ticking metronomes. Its opening went from quiet to clangorous in the blink of an eye, with brassy material offering stark juxtapositions and simultaneous strands à la Mahler. (I have heard this work once before, when it was quite fittingly paired with a Mahler symphony during a Cleveland Orchestra performance). Concertmaster Gabriel Lefkowitz had some fine solo passages, including a bit of klezmer-sounding material. The work proceeded very much in phantasmagoric stream of consciousness, densely textured, only to be suddenly distilled to the ever-ticking clocks. A work of searing impact, it retreated to silence at its conclusion.
None of Leonard Bernstein’s three symphonies bear much resemblance to the conventions of the form. The Third – titled Kaddish – is an oratorio in all but name, with parts for narrator, chorus, and soprano soloist. Central to the work is the Hebrew Kaddish, and the work bears a dedication to the memory of JFK who was assassinated just weeks before its December 1963 premiere. A wordless drone in the choir set a background for the narration, given with authority by Keisha Dorsey. Plaintive opening material in the orchestra was colored by thorny dissonances, and played with an innate understanding of Bernstein’s musical language – quite far removed here from the more populist idioms with which one might associate the composer. A setting of the Kaddish concludes each of the three movements; in the first, one was struck by the richness of the choir and orchestra, arresting in its urgency.
The second movement Din-Torah began with a vibrant array of percussion, echoed by cacophony and discord amongst the choir. The ensuing Kaddish had calming effect, encouraged by Amanda Majewski’s lustrous soprano in rejuvenating prayer, melding with the angelic voices of the women of the choir. Fleeting and rapid-fire playing marked the concluding movement, more unsettling than playful despite its moniker of “scherzo.” The music built to a terrifying climax, answered by a richly lyrical theme for the final Kaddish. The inclusion of children’s choir resounded with a certain purity before the contrapuntal complexity of the closing fugue that led towards a thunderous end. A deeply moving evening, with the works selected offering thought-provoking contemplations of respectively nature, time, and life itself.
In his preconcert remarks, Columbus Symphony music director Rossen Milanov noted it has long been his dream to conduct Mahler’s final completed work, the Ninth Symphony. That opportunity finally arrived this weekend, leading the CSO – expanded to over 80 players – in this autumnal, valedictory canvas.
The work began tentatively, hesitantly, almost as if unsure of its footing – some have suggested the limping rhythmic figure was meant to mirror the composer’s irregular heartbeat. Nonetheless, the work soon found its stride in sighing, calming lyricism. The music surged to grating climaxes at key inflection points in the long paragraph of the opening Andante comodo, yet they tended to come across a bit thin, lacking the robustness one desires for Mahler. The tolling of the tubular bells was of striking effect, heralding the welcome return of the main theme after a long journey. A solo passage from concertmaster Joanna Frankel was quite tenderly played.
The following movement brought us back down to the corporeal world from the philosophical musings of the opening. A spunky ländler took shape, with Mahler ever keen to invoke his affinity for folk traditions, even (or perhaps especially) in this late work. A panoply of striking timbres colored the movement, with the orchestra sounding quite a bit more polished here. The ensuing Rondo-Burleske opened with a strident, angular trumpet call, and a vigor that inexorably pulled matters forward, only to be later stopped in its tracks by an impossibly high passage for trumpet, echoed in the strings and winds – and a preview of the plaintive finale to come. At one point, Milanov’s baton was launched airborne, as sure a sign as any of the intensity with which he conducted!
The finale is simply quite unlike anything else in the repertoire. A heartwrenching chorale resonated through the Ohio Theatre, with the Columbus strings shining in their aching, arching lyricism. In the final bars, matters were all but disembodied, drifting away to peaceful, serene resolution, and Milanov managed to hold the audience in contemplative silence – perhaps the most appropriate response to such a singular statement.
Mitsuko Uchida, piano Mandel Concert Hall Severance Music Center Cleveland, OH February 26, 2023
Beethoven: Piano Sonata No. 30 in E major, Op. 109 Beethoven: Piano Sonata No. 31 in A flat major, Op. 110 Beethoven: Piano Sonata No. 32 in C minor, Op. 111
After seeing the stage of Severance Hall filled to the brim the night before for an opulent Strauss tone poem, it was quite a contrast to enter Sunday afternoon to the sight of a lone grand piano. A welcome sight to be sure, however, the setting for one of Cleveland’s most cherished musical guests to offer the next installment of this season’s piano series. This is the always remarkable Mitsuko Uchida, presenting perhaps the weightiest of all solo piano programs: the final three piano sonatas of Beethoven – and a fitting follow-up to her 2019 program of Schubert sonatas on the same stage.
Mitsuko Uchida in recital at Severance Hall
The bright E major of op. 109 opened graciously and generously lyrical, soon to be contrasted by the rhythmic snap and punch of the Prestissimo. A noble, expansive set of variations closed the work, with the singing theme showing the notoriously stormy composer wholly at peace with the world. Uchida did much to bring out the distinct character and nuance of each variation, and it was quite striking how much musical ground was traversed in a mere six variations. A fugue surfaced in the fifth variation, a signal of the importance of the form to this sonata trilogy and to late Beethoven more broadly speaking.
Thought certainly worthy of applause, Uchida requested the audience to withhold following op. 109 – a directive not followed, and it seemed to take her some time to get back in the zone. Once she did, op. 110 opened in amber warmth, and a sublimely songful melody decorated by fleeting arabesques given with utter weightlessness. I was reminded of Evgeny Kissin’s performance of the sonata on his program here last April. A fiery scherzo followed, sharply accented.
Thus far, the work very closely mirrored its predecessor. The Adagio ma non troppo that followed served as something of a spiritual contemplation – with a longing melody of deepest tenderness – as if the composer was pondering what direction to go next. A fugal finale then broke through, clearly the destination all along. Uchida cut through the counterpoint with exacting clarity, though in no way sacrificing its wondrous musicality.
Op. 111 was certainly worthy of occupying the entire second half. Many pianists will play the opening octaves with both hands instead of the left hand alone as Beethoven notated, but Uchida respected that wish as the composer wasn’t one to create technical challenges without valid musical reasons. Arresting beginnings plunged us into the darkness of C minor, with Uchida unrelenting in weight and power, and even more so in the penetrating, unforgiving fugato.
There’s few things in the repertoire more calming than the opening gesture of the Airietta, an Everest in of itself. There was entrancing purity in the simplicity of the theme, though rhythmic complexities amassed on the note-spattered pages – and while the virtuosity was there in spades, it always took a backseat, in service of the composer, not the pianist. Only Beethoven could make something as seemingly mundane as a trill, the mere oscillation of two consecutive pitches, sound so utterly transcendent. The climax of the movement pushed towards an even higher spiritual plane, only to a retreat to a direct, unadorned final statement to close this spellbinding performance.
quasi-faust 