Mozarteum Orchestra, Mozarteum

Mendelssohn, Berlioz, Schoenberg

The Mozarteum Orchestra‘s concert tonight in the Mozarteum featured a little night music, but none of it by Mozart – rather a much more interesting program of Mendelssohn, Berlioz, and Schoenberg under the baton of Leopold Hager (a native Salzburger, who had served as chief conductor of this orchestra from 1969-1981).

The Overture and some excerpts from Mendelssohn’s incidental music to A Midsummernight’s Dream made for a welcome opening.  In reality, this is not really night music, but Shakespearean comedy, for which Mendelssohn captured the charm in notes, and the orchestra tonight brought out the full color.  It might have been nice to have the complete set of incidental music.

Real night music came next, with Summer Nights, a song cycle by Berlioz (with soprano Juliane Banse joining Hager and the Mozarteum Orchestra).  These songs individually were pensive laments, but collectively the cycle did not work so well – the mood was too similar and did not vary (as, say, Schubert or Mahler song cycles might, even when they are also pensively lamenting), and this gave more drag than drive.  Banse’s voice was pleasant when contained, and large enough to project clearly and express emotion, but when projecting it sometimes turned a tad sour, more sour than the lamenting might justify.

The real treat of the evening came after the intermission, with Schoenberg’s Transfigured Night in the version the composer himself made for string orchestra.  This version, in my opinion, works better than the original sextet, allowing thicker sonorities and far more emotion.  Although a more than half-hour instrumental setting of a single poem, Schoenberg takes the listener through an emotional ride, into the deepest thoughts and souls of the two protagonists.  The Mozarteum Orchestra strings truly demonstrated their worth this evening, with Hager’s shaping, to draw out the little ravishing details for a heartfelt interpretation – not only telling the story but conveying its deep sympathetic meaning without uttering a word.

Advertisements

King’s Singers, Große Universitätsaula (Salzburg)

Rossi, Hassler, Palestrina, Byrd, Lassus, de Wert, Monteverdi, Lobo, Le Jeune, des Prez, Ley, Chilcott, Hession, Simon, Rossini

The King’s Singers celebrate their fiftieth anniversary this year with a world tour that passed through Salzburg Great University Auditorium this evening (a new venue for me, actually – but may explain the large youthful contingent in the audience).

The first half of the concert proved the better half, with a selection of music both religious and secular from the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries (Rossi, Hassler, Palestrina, Byrd, Lassus, de Wert, Monteverdi, Lobo, Le Jeune, and des Prez).  Although hardly a comprehensive selection, the lone Palestrina work, Pulchrae Sunt Genae Tuae, demonstrated how that composer saved polyphonic music from a papal ban and allowed its subsequent development, his harmonies piercing into the soul.  Palestrina did not just write music, he transformed listeners far and beyond what any of the other pieces this evening could do.

The several works by Lassus showed him at his versatile self, including an ode to music as a heavenly gift and a couple of humorous madrigals.  Salamone Rossi’s work, that opened the concert, may have been the least expected: Psalm 124, in Hebrew, by an accomplished Jewish composer of renaissance Italy (whom I have now learned about for the first time).

The multi-part music after the break covered the last 100 years in three sets written for King’s College Cambridge (Henry Ley‘s before the King’s Singers were founded; Bob Chilcott and Toby Hession on commission from the King’s Singers), but these modern works lacked the tonalities that had made the early music excel.  Three works set a capella by the popular singer Paul Simon at least did not try to compete, instead placed in the program to add a bit more fun – as was an a capella rendition of part of the Overture to William Tell by Rossini.  Two folk songs (one possibly Austrian, given the audience reaction, performed jokingly; the other Scottish) came as encores.  The second half of the concert added more personality, but actually they had shown enough during the first half – including the humorous songs of four centuries ago, appropriately hammed up by the artists – so that the later works were a bit of a let-down this evening.  The first half of the concert on its own was worth the ticket.

Monte Carlo Philharmonic Orchestra, Großes Festspielhaus (Salzburg)

Pärt, Prokofiev, Tschaikowsky, Azarashvili

The Monte Carlo Philharmonic Orchestra came to Salzburg Great Festival House this evening with its music director Kazuki Yamada and violin soloist Vadim Repin.

Repin did not get top billing on the posters, but should have, playng two pieces with warmth and charm: Pärt‘s Brothers in an arrangement for violin and orchestra (the original version, for violin and piano, had its premiere at the 1980 Salzburg Festival) and Prokofiev‘s Second Violin Concerto.  Both pieces are curiosities, which do not necessarily remain in any one style (or at least the violin parts do not), and Repin made both sound a bit wacky and delightful, both full of humor and nuance.  This music was original, and a welcome part of my Wednesday subscription series when I examined the year’s schedule.  I of course stayed for the second half of the concert as well, though, which was less of a highlight.

The orchestra was proficient enough, I suppose.  It seemed underwhelming when performing alongside Repin, and without him I scratched my chin for a while trying to put my finger on exactly what was missing (besides Repin, that is).  Then it hit me: this orchestra sounds nasal – even the strings and percussion somehow sound nasal – with sour overtones and completely missing undertones.  The size of the sound was there, but missing was its fullness.

It certainly also did not help that after the intermission the Orchestra chose to feature Tschaikowsky‘s over-performed Fourth Symphony.  I feel like I have alluded to this problem so often that I’m now just going to keep writing it openly (as I did last week with the Petersburgers).  Unless orchestras have something new to say, there should be a moratorium on performances of Tschaikowsky’s fourth, fifth, and sixth symphonies for the next few years – beautiful music, but they aren’t that deep and there are only so many times people can hear them in less-than-spectacular renditions.  Needless to say, the Orchestra tonight had nothing in particular new to say about this symphony – an adequate reading, but just that.

It compounded the issue with a dance from Tschaikowsky’s Nutcracker as a first encore (more Tschaikowsky?  Did they really have to?).  And then some further encore I could not identify came across as saccharine.  (UPDATE: the Kulturvereinigung website has indicated that the final encore was a nocturn by Vaja Azarashvili.)

St. Petersburg Philharmonic, Großes Festspielhaus (Salzburg)

Prokofiev, Scarlatti, Tschaikowsky, Elgar

When one of the world’s top orchestras, on its music director’s 80th birthday tour, appears in the Salzburg Great Festival House, I would normally expect the hall to be more than half full.  Obviously I expect wrong.  Where was everyone for tonight’s concert of the St. Petersburg Philharmonic under Yuri Temirkanov?  Perhaps it was the program – they’ve been in Vienna for several days (but I have not) with excellent programs, yet tonight tried something far less exciting.  Perhaps those who could went to hear them in Vienna’s Musikverein – better programs, better hall, and better city.

The main work was Tschaikowsky‘s Sixth Symphony.  It’s not that it’s bad, only that it’s over-performed (along with the fourth and fifth).  If they must play Tschaikowsky (they must not), couldn’t they please come on tour with one of his first three symphonies?

As one of the top ten or twelve orchestras on the planet, the Petersburgers do have something to say with this symphony, though.  Maybe they should play it so lesser orchestras can please stop playing it.  Temirkanov has slowed down somewhat at 80 and was not especially demonstrative on the podium, but he has been at the helm of this orchestra for thirty years, and its assistant conductor for twenty-one years before that, so he did not need to make big gestures in order to coax the perfectly contorted sounds and emotions from this group.  He featured the winds, who responded expressively.  The brass chorales looked over the abyss, in a different style from but surprisingly similar to Bruckner’s ninth – like Tschaikowsky’s sixth, also his last composition before he died, both composed at the same time.  Things got a little happier and upbeat by the third movement, but then Tschaikowsky’s depression came fully on show for the final movement, which ended in the menacing deep strings.

To ensure we stayed with cliché, Temirkanov and the orchestra performed “Nimrod” from Elgar‘s Enigma Variations as an encore.  They played this as an encore the last time I heard them too.  And it’s overplayed as an encore anyway.  However, I’m not sure I have ever heard it played this well, full of melancholy left over from the Tschaikowsky.

The first half of the concert was rather more unusual: Prokofiev‘s crazy Second Piano Concerto, with soloist Yefim Bronfman.  Except that Bronfman did not make it so crazy – I’d like to say he kept it more restrained, but he still hit all the notes and produced full swells of sound.  The orchestra supported this interpretation.  Where it needed to come across warped, it did.  Where it needed to interject – loudly at times – it did.  Yet it never overwhelmed him.  I’ve heard this concerto performed in a restrained manner before, but felt that the pianist that time did not really understand the work – tonight Bronfman, with Temirkanov’s and the Petersburgers’ support, came out with a lot more nuance.

Bronfman also gave us an unannounced solo encore – a Domenico Scarlatti sonata.  It was easy to forget that Scarlatti would have written the piece before the invention of the piano, as Bronfman made it seem so natural for this instrument (indeed, the piano almost sounded like it wasn’t really a piano after all).

Mozarteum Orchestra, Großes Festspielhaus

Dvořák, Bruckner

I chose not to get a subscription to either the Mozarteum Orchestra‘s Sunday morning or Thursday concert series this year, because enough programs just were simply not interesting to make a subscription enticing (for the Sunday series, notably Bernstein’s pretentious Mass in November), but instead put together a couple of combination subscription packages with other concerts from the Mozarteum Foundation.

This morning’s concert in the Great Festival House was certainly among the ones that jumped out as worth including, featuring Bruckner‘s unjustly under-performed Symphony #0.  The composer lacked all self-confidence, and when he had shown his symphony to friends who questioned it, he “annulled” it.  It did not deserve this fate.  And while it could have used some polishing, it contained all the essentials of Bruckner’s magic worlds of sound (indeed at times more succinctly than the Symphony #2 which immediately followed it in order of composition – it post-dates his Symphony #1, not to mention his “Study” Symphony #00).  In some respects this symphony does not sound like an early Bruckner work (well, relatively early – he started composing orchestral music rather late, with Symphony #00 when he was 39, #1at age 41, and #0 at age 45) – in experimenting with new harmonies and structures, Bruckner had already become rather forward-looking, in ways he friends likely could not understand.

The Mozarteum Orchestra’s emeritus music director, Ivor Bolton, still has an excellent rapport with his former orchestra, and together they gave this symphony the reading it deserved, and of which Bruckner himself could have been proud (assuming such a humble man could ever be proud).

The concert opened with the more-often performed Cello Concerto by Antonín Dvořák.  The 25-year-old Salzburg native Julia Hagen joined the orchestra as soloist.  If the cello has been described as the closest instrument to the human voice, then her performance demonstrated why, her warm tone making me wonder what the words were to this piece.  Her playing was perhaps not bold enough for this energetic work, particularly in the first movement (she needed to re-tune her instrument right after that, so even she realized it was certainly a little off), but on the whole her song-like approach worked (as it did for an unidentified solo encore).