Bartók, Weber, Koncz, Kodály, Brahms
The Camarata Salzburg provided a thoroughly-enjoyable Hungarian-themed concert in the Mozarteum this evening at the Festival. A tremendous chamber orchestra, they had a whole series of fascinating concerts that I had hoped to attend during the 2018-19 season but kept finding myself out of town and giving my tickets away (I made it only to the final concert in their season series, plus an extra concert dedicated to Leopold Mozart; for the 2019-20 season their concert series is notable for being completely and surprisingly uninteresting and I have bought no tickets at all). When this concert appeared on the 2019 Festival program, I starred it as a potential Summer highlight.
Béla Bartók‘s Music for Strings, Percussion, and Celesta made up the first half of the concert. It was an experimental work, but showed Bartók at his most original – and also in his element. Odd tonalities resolve into fully-lyrical swells. Just as the Hungarian accent in German has a mysterious and enormous charm, so does this same charm apply to Hungarian music. The young Swiss conductor Lorenzo Viotti had everything under perfect control, but radiated sympathy and a twinkle. The audience roared its approval, with more curtain calls than are usual before an intermission when the orchestra will be returning for more anyway.
Carl Maria von Weber‘s Clarinet Concerto #1 would have seemed to be the odd-piece-out on the program, since it has no Hungarian connection. But it was an experimental work by the composer for a newly-developed mechanism for this instrument. The work made a splash in its time, but for some reason (maybe because it is extremely difficult) it rarely shows up on concert programs. Andreas Ottensamer, principal clarinet of the Berlin Philharmonic (younger brother of his counterpart with the Vienna Philharmonic, both sons of the late Vienna Philharmonic principal clarinetist who died in 2017) did the honors this evening, and hammed the work up to the fullest, dancing on stage and turning to various other orchestra members (and conductor Viotti), making eye contact and urging them on – indeed, he was practically as engaged as Viotti in leading the orchestra.
There followed a work written for Ottensamer in 2017: the Hungarian Fantasy on Themes by Carl Maria von Weber for clarinet and orchestra, by Stephan Koncz (an Austrian of Hungarian descent) which sprung from Weber’s opera Die Freischütz. This had a feel of improvisation about it, although it was not improv, fitting perfectly with Ottensamer’s personality deriving from the Weber concerto (and hence the need to have that non-Hungarian work on the program). As it got faster and faster, crazier and crazier, everyone went loose. But with this soloist, this orchestra, and this conductor, they never lost control, and the audience almost started dancing the csárdás with them.
The final programmed work was a dance set: the Dances of Galánta by Zoltán Kodály. If we were not dancing already with Koncz, we certainly were with Kodály. This is actually lush music but with a heavy Hungarian lilt, composed in 1933 not from Kodály’s own folklore research but rather from music preserved in a Vienna library. The orchestra supplied a Hungarian dance by Johannes Brahms as an encore. The enthusiastic applause from the audience suggested there should be a standing ovation, but as these are rare people seemed hesitant at first until the dam broke and everyone stood.