Vasily Petrenko and Pittsburgh Symphony deliver a gripping Manfred

Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra
Vasily Petrenko, conductor
Benjamin Grosvenor, piano
Heinz Hall
Pittsburgh, PA
June 2, 2024

Dukas: The Sorcerer’s Apprentice
Liszt: Piano Concerto No. 1 in E-flat major, S124
 Encore:
 Sousa/Horowitz: The Stars and Stripes Forever
Tchaikovsky: Manfred Symphony, Op. 58

Under the baton of guest conductor Vasily Petrenko, the Pittsburgh Symphony presented a colorful selection of three contrasting works spanning the Romantic era. Matters began with the inimitably familiar Sorcerer’s Apprentice of Paul Dukas, a familiarity in no small part cemented by its appropriation in Disney’s watershed Fantasia. The tone poem began in suspenseful mystery, decorated with silvery, gossamer texturing. Haughty bassoons introduced the main theme, given with swagger and bringing to life Goethe’s titular poem. The work burgeoned to an overflowing urgency, made the all the more affecting by way of its iridescent orchestration.

Preconcert interview with Vasily Petrenko, moderated by PSO associate conductor Moon Doh

Liszt’s Piano Concerto No. 1 introduced British pianist Benjamin Grosvenor. Bellicose beginnings were furthered encouraged by the pianist’s steely-toned octaves, but the work wasn’t all fireworks and bombast, being interspersed with lyrical episodes often in dialogue with an orchestra member. The tone produced from the Steinway was bit too bright for my taste, though I’m not sure whether to point fingers at the pianist or the piano.

The ringing of the triangle marked the scherzo section, answered by Grosvenor’s stylish playing. The octaves returned at breakneck speed, pointing the way towards the concerto’s blistering end. An enthusiastic reception brought Grosvenor back for an encore in Horowitz’s transcription of Sousa’s Stars and Stripes Forever. Thunderous bass octaves and intricate filigree in the upper register made for a fun close to the first half – and perhaps a suitable welcome to summer.

Though he didn’t include it amongst his numbered symphonies, Tchaikovsky’s Manfred is one of his most significant orchestral works, chronologically falling between the Fourth and Fifth symphonies. Like the Dukas that opened, it too draws programmatic inspiration from poetry, in this case, Lord Byron. Nearly an hour long, it can be abstruse work to interpret, but Petrenko (who has recorded the work with the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic) made a clear and compelling case for it. I would perhaps suggest a parallel with Liszt’s Dante Symphony heard earlier this season, hyper-Romantic, literary works scored for large orchestra, both perhaps a bit bloated but which nonetheless have much to say when given an incisive interpretation.

Lugubrious, tragic beginnings were had in the expansive opening movement, outlining a brooding main theme that swelled to great passions, depicting our Romantic hero. The Vivace con spirito that followed was lighter fare by comparison, with a central section lush and lyrical. Mercurial filigree in the high strings surfaced near the movement’s end to striking effect. The Andante con moto featured a songful oboe solo, a moment of peace amidst the tumult. The finale amounted to long, arduous journey in of itself. At the very end, the organ filled Heinz Hall for a remarkable moment of lavish orchestration, and the closing hymn led to a peaceful if somber resolution in evocation of Manfred’s death. While the Manfred Symphony might not be a masterpiece on par with the composer’s final three numbered symphonies, a performance like this nonetheless compels one to give it ample attention.

Rare Prokofiev highlights Welser-Möst’s offbeat Cleveland Orchestra program

Cleveland Orchestra
Franz Welser-Möst, conductor
Severance Hall
Cleveland, OH
January 30, 2020

Prokofiev: Symphony No. 6 in E flat minor, Op. 111
Bridge: The Sea, H100
Dukas: The Sorcerer’s Apprentice

Following their annual residency in Miami, The Cleveland Orchestra is back home for a hearty stretch of concerts leading up to another tour this spring that will take them to Europe and the Middle East. Franz Welser-Möst, continuing his often revelatory exploration of Prokofiev, opened the program with the composer’s seldom heard Sixth Symphony. If the Fifth Symphony celebrates the glories and triumphs of World War II, the Sixth takes a much darker approach in its bracing depiction of the war’s tragedies and losses. As Welser-Möst noted in his spoken introduction, here we have the usually complacent Prokofiev living on the “knife’s edge” of what was acceptable artistically to the Soviet authorities – with its ambiguities and underlying tragedy, it draws comparison to the subversive works of Shostakovich.

prok6
Title page of Prokofiev’s Sixth Symphony

The opening Allegro moderato was thorny and unforgiving, foregoing the familiar cohesion of sonata form for a structure underpinned by garish thematic transitions, through which Welser-Möst guided the orchestra with exacting precision. Stark textures were drawn from the low brass and rather busy piano, and the metallic climaxes depicted in no uncertain terms the true trauma of war. The central Largo served as the emotional crux, with arching strings introducing a pained lyricism. A percussive section, however, ensured this was far from a purely meditative affair, and the celesta added another striking timbre. The motoric finale, patently Prokofiev, delivered rapid fire repeated notes with a Haydnesque wit. An interjection of sparse and forlorn material gave pause before the conclusion – cacophonous, bombastic, and in apparent triumph, albeit only skin-deep.

An even rarer quantity followed after intermission in Frank Bridge’s orchestral suite The Sea. The Cleveland Orchestra gave the US premiere of the work under first music director Nikolai Sokoloff in 1923, and remarkably, hasn’t touched it since. Its four movements depict the titular entity in various guises, and would be a clear inspiration for the Four Sea Interludes from Peter Grimes by Britten, Bridge’s one and only composition student. Additionally, Bridge spent much time on the coast at Eastbourne, where Debussy too gleaned inspiration for another indelible musical sea portrait, La mer.

“Seascape” opened in lavish orchestration with a flowing melody in clear evocation of the sea – music of great beauty and appeal. The scherzo-like frothiness of “Sea Foam” depicted the ever-changing surface, while “Moonlight” unfolded as a nocturne with a delicate flute melody in counterpoint with the harp. Thundering timpani and dissonant brass conjured the closing “Storm”, but the sun shone through for a resplendent end – let us hope it is not nearly another century before we hear the work again!

Dukas’ one-hit wonder The Sorcerer’s Apprentice closed the evening in exciting fashion. Quiet mystery opened, setting the stage for the indestructible march theme, giving the bassoon and contrabassoon a rare moment in the spotlight. The orchestra amassed to vigor in bringing Goethe’s fantastical poem to life in musical terms, only to dissipate in a closing gesture as blistering as it was sudden.