Kodály, Liszt, Bartók
Tonight was Hungarian music night at the Musikverein, with the Vienna Symphony Orchestra under Christian Arming. Two suites bookended two works for piano and orchestra.
Arming and the Symphoniker performed the Háry János Suite by Zoltán Kodály as a comic-mystery thriller. The reading did not come directly, but instead incapsulated a mood. Within that telling, each of the odd instruments in the score provided delightful nuances. This storytelling was made fun.
Likewise, at the back end of the concert, they provided a similar amount of delight in telling the story, again in suite form, of the Miraculous Mandarin by Béla Bartók. Where Kodály’s suite had delightful melodies, Bartók’s had delightful rhythms. A master orchestrator, Bartók wrote some brilliantly imaginative music. And this orchestra, sounding great, could rise to the challenge. Each instrument had its lines, and the musicians made the most of the opportunities to showcase their talents. Arming kept everything together (not easy for this work), well-proportioned, and – importantly – dancing. Bartók drew great inspiration from Hungarian folk dances, but did not set any of them in this story. Instead, he incorporated their essence, while producing an original work that has lost none of its sparkle after a century, at least not as performed tonight.
Unfortunately, the middle works in the concert did not come across as well. Here, Gerhard Oppitz joined the orchestra on the piano for Ferenc Liszt’s First Piano Concerto after the Kodály before the intermission, and Liszt’s Totentanz after the intermission before the Bartók. He utilized the intimate acoustics of the Golden Hall to make the Piano Concerto more resemble a piano recital, and Arming and the Symphoniker contributed softly in kind. However, I do not attend piano recitals for a reason. Even when played well (as tonight), the piano is a fundamentally dull instrument, a tool for a composer to construct more elaborate works, but generally not worthy to stand alone. Liszt is one piano composer for whom I sometimes make an exception, but this was not idiomatic Liszt. The Totentanz, though a more rugged work (and indeed very substantial if performed correctly) proved somewhat better, but Oppitz still lacked the necessary oompf. Beautifully played, but just lacking the drama and intrigue of the 20th-Century works on either side of the program.