Glinka, Bartók, Saint-Saëns
I spent a colorful (if dark colors) Sunday morning with the Mozarteum Orchestra in Salzburg’s Great Festival House. The three works on the program did not logically fit together, except perhaps for their color palette. Riccardo Minasi, the orchestra’s music director, certainly saw to that.
The overture to Mikhail Glinka‘s opera Ruslan and Lyudmila energized the hall from the outset. Glinka used dark Russian colors to highlight folk and dance-able music. Although the overture is well-known, the opera gets performed rarely, which in my opinion is a huge oversight – indeed, a good production of this opera (such as the only time I have seen it performed, by the Novaya Opera in 2010, a production I remember fondly) is magical in a way Mozart’s Zauberflöte can be and would hook generations of children on opera. I keep repeating this every time I hear the overture in a concert, in the hope that someone might actually start programming the entire opera (and not some imbecilic self-important German opera director, but rather someone with actual talent interested in staging the opera). The overture is fun; the whole opera is more so.
When Béla Bartók died in 1945, he was still working on a viola concerto. One of his students completed the orchestration, and fifty years later Bartók’s son made additional tweaks, to produce the version we heard today. It also employed dark coloration, alternatingly moody and folkish. It’s not a work I’d heard before, but would gladly again. Violist Antoine Tamestit made a wonderful sound and a statement about an under-appreciated instrument. Indeed, if the question about Glinka’s Ruslan is why that opera is rarely performed, then the question Bartók’s concerto provoked – or at least in this interpretation – is why there are not more viola concerti. The instrument may not hit the highs of the violin, nor the warm tenor of the cello, but it has something to say in the alto range.
Minasi borrowed the concertmaster’s violin, and accompanied Tamestit in a lively duet to liven the mood as we headed into break. This was quite short, but maintained positive energy in the house.
The question I had going into the second half of the concert was: why would anyone program Camille Saint-Saëns‘s Symphony #3 (inscribed “With Organ”) in a house that does not contain an organ? They can and do wheel out an electric simulated organ with speaker amplification, but it’s not the real thing and makes a pitiful substitute. Indeed, the Dresden Staatskapelle fell on its face in this house in 2017 trying to do just that. But Minasi and the Mozarteum Orchestra had an answer to this question. Instead of having the organ as a central part of the music, they instead highlighted the rich symphonic colors (Saint-Saëns was of course inspired by the tone poems of Ferenc Liszt, in whose memory he wrote the work), and the organ emerged almost as an afterthought, augmenting the depth of the colors but not actually painting them itself. This approach worked under the circumstances (the symphony is thrilling with a proper organ, but without one this alternative interpretation was quite good as well).