Sunday 2 October 2016

Rousing (Mostly) Russian Concert

A week ago, I was listening to the Toronto Symphony Orchestra performing Rachmaninoff's Second Symphony, which is not a favourite of mine.  In my review, I compared different aspects of the work to the same composer's Piano Concerto No. 3 and to Mahler's Symphony # 3.
 
I already knew that I would be hearing the Mahler on Wednesday of this week, but I had totally forgotten that the Kitchener-Waterloo Symphony Orchestra's opening concert on Friday included the Rachmaninoff Concerto.  Joke's on me, I guess.
 
But first, the non-Russian work of the evening.  One of the delights of the KWSO is the programming of a contemporary work in almost every one of their main stage concerts.  It's a great way to get introduced to the music of a large variety of present day composers.  Tonight's work came from American composer Mason Bates, and was commissioned for an orchestra I had never heard of -- the YouTube Symphony Orchestra.  If you haven't heard of it either, look it up -- it's a fascinating story!
 
So, tonight we heard Mothership, a most unusual work fusing traditional symphonic writing with such instruments as the electric violin, the Indian tabla, and the pedal steel guitar, as well as electronic percussion.  The piece doesn't contain a great deal of melodic material, but is definitely driven by its rhythms.  These rhythms include fascinating added and dropped bars and beats, so that you are constantly adjusting your mental sense of where the principal beat lies.  As well, the music includes improvised sections for the electric violin, the tabla, and the pedal steel guitar.  If this all sounds complex, it certainly was, but also involving and well worth another hearing.
 
The orchestra was then joined by pianist Natasha Paremski for Rachmaninoff's Concerto No. 3 in D minor, Op. 43.  To call this a fiendish work is a masterpiece of understatement.  For years it remained almost untouched apart from the composer's own memorable performances.  There can't be many works in the concerto repertoire with so much black ink and so little white space per page in the piano part! 

Together, Paremski and music director Edwin Outwater presented us with a performance of extremes.  Fast passages were dangerously fast, slow passages languorously slow.  The quietest moments were very quiet indeed and the loud moments (there are many) nearly lifted the roof off the Centre in the Square.  Once again, the orchestra provided a large projection screen displaying the keyboard and the pianist's flying hands, and this technological helper let the entire audience see for themselves just how many huge chords are contained in this work.

It was all very thrilling to be sure, but there were moments when I felt a little restraint might have served the music better.  To give just one example: at almost the exact centre of the first movement there is a fortissimo chordal passage for the piano, outlining a theme of great dramatic power which is heard nowhere else in the concerto.  It begins allegro but only after 16 bars does it accelerate into an allegro molto which brings about the movement's catastrophic climax.  Outwater and Paremski hit the ground running with this theme at nearly a presto and kept speeding up from there, and the individual chords disappeared in a mush of noise.

On the other hand, the quieter moments -- such as the bulk of the second movement -- were played with much subtlety and a sense of the poetic air of the music.  Overall, a good performance of this very difficult piece, and Paremski certainly earned every inch of the cheering and applause which she received.

After the intermission, the concert concluded with Tchaikovsky's Symphony No. 4 in F minor, Op. 36.  I was delighted at having a chance to hear this work again, as it has always been my personal favourite among the composer's six symphonies.  To me it is the most successful as a symphonic structure, but also the most truthfully Russian in the sense that any of the main themes sound as if they could be derived from Russian folk music -- although in fact only the fourth movement depends overtly on a well-known folk tune.

The brass fanfare at the beginning which carries the "Fate" theme that is the symphony's recurring motto was played with great power and emphasis, particularly on the descending scale that gets louder as it plunges into the depths.  The two great staccato chords, like lightning bolts, were nailed with precision that sent the echoes rebounding around the hall.

When the main theme in 9/8 time entered in the strings, it was plain that Outwater heeded the direction "In movimento di Valse" as the music lilted along for the first bars before the intensity began to build up.  The tempo change to moderato for the quiet second theme, and the subsequent acceleration back to full speed were well handled each time that change occurred.  Most memorable of all were the climactic bars of the development section in which the dramatic exertions of the strings and winds were repeatedly punctuated by blazing reiterations of the fanfare motif on the brass.  The end of the movement accelerated briskly up to a breathtaking conclusion.

In the mournful second movement, the winds delicately outlined the main theme and its counter melodies.  The ending faded gently away to inaudible.

The most challenging movement of this work is the scherzo, which is written throughout for the pizzicato (plucked) strings.  It's fast, energetic music, but it is all too easy to get too fast and have the almost percussive textures come apart at the seams, and this I felt did happen once or twice for a few moments -- although the orchestra soon recovered its unity.  The winds and horns were delightful in the trio section, their crisp solo lines bright without being forceful, and the brilliant high-speed ornaments from the piccolo were a particular delight.

The fourth movement opened forcefully, and quickly moved into the folk tune which is (as usually is the case with folk tunes) repeated ad infinitum.  Tchaikovsky did all he could to avoid boredom by moving it up and down in pitch, changing it between minor and major keys, varying the speed, and altering the orchestration -- and indeed, of all his folksong-based movements, this one is the most successful at keeping tedium at bay.  The orchestra found all the varieties of light and shade, of texture and tone, and at the same time managed to maintain the sense of fun inherent in this music.  The unexpected intrusion of the Fate fanfares again at the end was as startling as possible.  After that, Outwater carefully graduated the return of the folksong themes, instrument by instrument, letting it all build up naturally and organically -- while still keeping something of both speed and volume in reserve for the explosive coda.  A very rewarding Tchaikovsky Fourth indeed!

No comments:

Post a Comment