Yesterday, I took in a fine concert at the Toronto Symphony -- at 2:00 in the afternoon. It's the first time I have ever attended one of their matinee concerts, and I was sad to see how many empty seats there were throughout the hall. But the audience certainly made up in attention and enthusiasm for what they lacked in numbers.
The programme was a feast of Romanticism in music, with the orchestra under the direction of guest conductor James Conlon. The programme began and ended with the well-known, and had the less-well-known sandwiched in between.
The concert opened with the Prelude to Act 1 of Lohengrin by Wagner. This is a very slow, almost meditative piece, with its opening and closing dominated by the sound of the violins playing very high up in their register, very quietly. The orchestra's violins perfectly captured the required sound in a radiant shimmer of silvery light transmuted into music. Equally beautiful was the string counter-melody when the brass and winds pick up the original theme. The powerful climax brought rich, round tone from all sections of the orchestra, and then followed the wind-down back to the original violin sound and finally to the gentlest of fading pianissimos from just the two players on the first desk. Sheer magic.
Immediately the orchestra leaped into the Act 3 Prelude, the famous wedding celebration, and the robust tone drew the hugest contrast from the ethereal notes heard just seconds earlier. This too was well played, ending with the tailored concert ending (since the original leads on directly into the Bridal March chorus). That concert ending always annoys me, though. The Prelude is all joy, celebratory through and through, but the concert ending draws in a darker theme from the tragic conclusion of the opera. Why, I don't know.
After a pause, we next heard the Violin Concerto of Erich Korngold, composed in 1945 and premiered by Jascha Heifetz. James Conlon, in his introductory remarks, made much of Korngold's training as a serious musician and his desire to be known as such, not just as a film composer. Sadly, I felt that the first movement went nowhere because the opening "theme", in truth only a short little snippet, never led to any convincing growth or development. In that respect, it was a perfect example of film music which doesn't make the transition to the concert stage properly. As a result, the entire movement came across as a succession of beautiful sound effects that weren't related to each other. I've no doubt that Conlon and soloist Jonathan Crow, the TSO's Concertmaster, played the piece as persuasively and beautifully as they could, but for me it simply lacked the legs to go anywhere. The lyrical second movement was better, and the energetic, propulsive finale the best of all. Crow's performance drew enthusiastic applause and cheers, rightly so, but the concerto itself left me unimpressed.
After the intermission, a real repertoire war-horse: the Symphony # 4 by Tchaikovsky. For me this work has always marked the summit of Tchaikovsky's symphonic art. Here I feel he truly solved the problems that had arisen in his first three symphonies. Alas, I have never found either the Fifth or Sixth Symphonies nearly as interesting, and I know many will disagree with me. At any rate, it's interesting that after nearly half a century of concert-going, this is the first time I have ever heard this symphony played live! And, as is so often the case, I gained a new appreciation of its considerable technical challenges from the experience.
This was a good, solid, central interpretation -- no wayward tempo extravagances or excessive rubato. The first movement started out very cleanly, but at times as it progressed the dotted rhythms began to grow muddy. Pity, because they are the essence of the musical character in this movement. On the other hand, Conlon managed the slow-down for the transition to the second theme perfectly each time it appeared, a very smooth carry-through with no hint of any gear shifting. The climaxes were powerful without becoming at all harsh, an easy trap to fall into with such big music. Special praise to the horn section for their beautifully rich and round chording in the reappearances of the motto fanfare.
The second movement brought a lovely wistful feel in the melancholy main theme. The contrasting middle episode was well managed, so as not to become too overwhelming, and the quiet ending hung beautifully suspended in the air.
The scherzo is unique in the symphonic repertoire in that the strings play the entire movement pizzicato, without any use of the bows. The TSO strings played with precision to burn, and at the same time with a fine sense of the playful tone of the music. That same jollity spills over into the wind and brass writing of the trio, where the trilling woodwinds accentuated the twists and turns of the folk-like melody. The prominent virtuoso piccolo part was especially delightful.
The energetic finale takes up the same challenge as the Second Symphony's finale -- how to build a convincing symphonic movement out of two folk melodies. It's tough because folksongs tend to resist symphonic development, and as another writer once said, the only thing you can do is to play them again -- louder! Here, Tchaikovsky met the challenge much more successfully than in his earlier work. Because of the speed required, the whole becomes a bit of a challenge to the orchestra as well. The wild scale figures at the opening sounded spot-on, but later on in the movement some of the dotted and syncopated rhythms began to get muddy again. This was especially true of the rush to the finish line, a passage which requires only a slight acceleration to sound like a frantic race. Here again, I felt Conlon picked the ideal speed, and the rousing ending was greeted with enthusiastic cheering from the audience.
Take it all in all, a good concert. Excellent playing and rewarding music, even if the Korngold Concerto left something to be desired.
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