Ligeti, Liszt, Chopin, Bartók
A mostly-Hungarian morning with the Mozarteum Orchestra in the Great Festival House, with works by Ligeti, Liszt, and Bartók (and a piece by Chopin that did not belong in this set).
Ligeti’s Atmosphères took a full orchestra and a full polytonality, but broke down the music into smaller components, each one somehow full but without logical progression. I suppose any given note or measure was sonorous, but when taken all together we got: I’m not really sure. When members of the orchestra are holding their ears, it is a bad sign.
The Ligeti did serve as a useful preparation for jumping back a century to Liszt’s second piano concerto. This work did not keep to the conventions of its day, with six segments (not really movements) played without break. These also did not generally follow melodic lines, but (especially in this reading by the Scottish conductor Douglas Boyd) also could be abrupt like Ligeti. Yet Liszt was a master of the idiom, and instead of a dialogue between piano and orchestra, as would have been typical, he made the piano part of the orchestral fabric. Soloist Tsimon Barto and the orchestra gave a robust performance, a strong centerpiece for the Sunday morning concert.
The concert concluded with Bartók’s Concerto for Orchestra, written from his US exile, as he lay homesick, impoverished, and dying. Boyd gave the work a somewhat melancholic interpretation as a result. But Bartók could indeed show himself as Liszt’s heir in the mastery of Hungarian orchestral color, and the musicians of the Mozarteum Orchestra shone, coming into their own when featured.
Between the Liszt and the Bartók works, Chopin’s Andante Spianato e Grande Polonaise Brillante was far out of place, and not juse because Chopin was not Hungarian. This was a black and white work in a concert full of color. Juxtaposed on this program with music by his contemporary Liszt, it provided further evidence that Chopin was more curiosity than visionary in the world of mid-19th Century pianist-composers. The piano parts said little enough, but one wonders why there was an orchestra there at all. It did not have a dialogue with the piano (as would have been normal), nor did it follow Liszt’s example of embedding the piano within an orchestral palette. It seemed more of an afterthought, kind of like how this piece might have ended up on the program in the first place. Barto, a charismatic performer, could not rescue it.