On Wednesday night, I attended the last Toronto Symphony concert which I will hear conducted by Music Director Peter Oundjian before his 14-year tenure of the position comes to an end.
It was a night that began with the closing of a circle, and ended with one of the most emotion-laden farewells in all of music.
The programme opened with Mozart's Piano Concerto in G Major, K.453 (# 17), with Emanuel Ax as the distinguished soloist. A note which I saw (I think) on the TSO website pointed out how Ax has appeared so often with the TSO (the first time back in 1976) that he should be considered an honorary Torontonian. In his pre-concert speech, Peter Oundjian paid tribute to the closing of the circle when he informed the audience that this was the final concert of his tenure with an instrumental soloist, and his very first instrumental soloist as TSO Music Director back in 2004 had been -- you guessed it -- Emanuel Ax.
This was a treasurable Mozart performance, both orchestra and soloist delivering a light-hearted yet crisp account of the sunny first movement. The contrast in the slow movement, with its unusual chromatic lines, brought more sense of light and shade, and a suitable degree of pathos. The lively theme and variations finale, which reminds many of us of Papageno's music in The Magic Flute, launched with a firmer, bolder sound than we had yet heard (and why not? Papageno is a rather boisterous character). The mysterious slow minor variation brought a sense of introspection before the ebullient final variations and coda. If this whole final movement was weightier than the first two, it still remained well within reasonable limits, not trying to become Beethoven instead of Mozart, and this was in good measure due to Ax's careful control of dynamics.
The major work was the Symphony # 9 by Gustav Mahler, the composer's final completed work. At first glance this appears to be a conventional four-movement symphony, but a second look puts that idea out of court. The symphony opens and closes with two massive slow movements, and the two middle movements then function as a pair of intermezzi. Particularly unusual is the long, slow finale, a movement so dominated by the sound of the strings that it almost begins to sound like Bruckner -- and, in particular, more than a little like the Bruckner of that composer's unfinished Ninth.
Oundjian has led the orchestra in many memorable Mahler performances, and demonstrated clearly his affinity with and understanding of the style. In many ways, the Ninth is the most elusive of the Mahler's symphonies -- perhaps also the least typical -- and the challenges here are unlike any of his other works except Das Lied von der Erde.
Balancing the constantly shifting small ensembles through much of the first movement is totally essential to the music having its proper impact. Long passages are like chamber music, except that the chamber ensemble's makeup keeps changing every few bars. Oundjian kept the dynamics running smoothly and levelly at each shift, except where changes were required, and thus avoided what can sometimes seem like distracting bumps in the road. Overall, the flowing tempo he adopted for this movement avoided any suggestion of dragging -- it's quite long enough without that! The frenetic buildup in the centre of the movement developed a wild feeling of uncontained revelry-without-joy which perfectly prepared the way for the catastrophic collapse into darkness and the thunderous recurrence of the work's opening, mit höchster Gewalt (with utmost force) -- like the messenger of Death personified, and that's exactly how the orchestra played it.
The second movement begins as the last of Mahler's Ländler movements: a rustic country dance in 3/4 time that moves somewhat slower than a waltz. Here again the tempo flowed nicely, still allowing the rustic flavour of the low strings to come out clearly. While a significant tempo shift is required for the two episodes embedded in the movement, I felt that in both cases Oundjian overplayed his hand and got a bit too fast. Nonetheless, he certainly managed the major tempo changes very neatly. And after all, "too fast" is a purely subjective judgement. The perky final notes for piccolo and contrabassoon aptly suggested a stylish thumbing of the nose.
The third movement, titled Rondo-Burleske, is a definite scherzo, with (as the title suggests) a hefty dose of the mordant irony so common in Mahler's works. The performance here was both fast and raucous (highly desirable), until the centrepiece -- the sudden slowing of the tempo while a solo trumpet plays a sweet melody above a light string accompaniment. Soon after comes the fast parody of that melody on a biting E-flat clarinet, a moment reminiscent of the same instrument's use to distort the idée fixe in the final movement of the Symphonie fantastique of Berlioz. Both trumpet and clarinet solos were played just as they should be, the trumpet gentle and caressing, the clarinet a sardonic shriek. From there, the scherzo thunderously resumed, and Oundjian whipped up a huge wave of excitement in the final pages, accelerating more and more into the concluding presto bars. The final staccato chord rocketed off the stage into the hall, leaving a breathtaking silence in its wake.
In the long final adagio, Oundjian moved on at a faster tempo than many interpreters (yet still within reasonable limits) that gave the music an extra edge of sweep and passion. If indeed this is the farewell to life that some commentators claim, then the tone of this performance came close to the idea of being happy to have lived, and happy to let go. There was an almost ethereal, certainly an otherworldly quality, to the woodwind episodes with their unusual and oft-varied instrumentation.
The drawn-out final coda, two pages of music taking six minutes to play, was slowed right down and given with a heart-aching intensity that held the entire audience in communal stillness. I know I was holding my breath as the final note faded into silence, and I'm sure I wasn't the only one.
After so many fine Mahler performances with this orchestra, among the highlights of his tenure, I felt that this beautiful performance was the perfect note (pun intended) to wrap up my personal relationship as audience with Oundjian's music-making.
* * * * * * * * * *
The next post is an essay containing my own personal appreciation and assessment of Maestro Peter Oundjian's 14-year tenure with the Toronto Symphony Orchestra.
The second movement begins as the last of Mahler's Ländler movements: a rustic country dance in 3/4 time that moves somewhat slower than a waltz. Here again the tempo flowed nicely, still allowing the rustic flavour of the low strings to come out clearly. While a significant tempo shift is required for the two episodes embedded in the movement, I felt that in both cases Oundjian overplayed his hand and got a bit too fast. Nonetheless, he certainly managed the major tempo changes very neatly. And after all, "too fast" is a purely subjective judgement. The perky final notes for piccolo and contrabassoon aptly suggested a stylish thumbing of the nose.
The third movement, titled Rondo-Burleske, is a definite scherzo, with (as the title suggests) a hefty dose of the mordant irony so common in Mahler's works. The performance here was both fast and raucous (highly desirable), until the centrepiece -- the sudden slowing of the tempo while a solo trumpet plays a sweet melody above a light string accompaniment. Soon after comes the fast parody of that melody on a biting E-flat clarinet, a moment reminiscent of the same instrument's use to distort the idée fixe in the final movement of the Symphonie fantastique of Berlioz. Both trumpet and clarinet solos were played just as they should be, the trumpet gentle and caressing, the clarinet a sardonic shriek. From there, the scherzo thunderously resumed, and Oundjian whipped up a huge wave of excitement in the final pages, accelerating more and more into the concluding presto bars. The final staccato chord rocketed off the stage into the hall, leaving a breathtaking silence in its wake.
In the long final adagio, Oundjian moved on at a faster tempo than many interpreters (yet still within reasonable limits) that gave the music an extra edge of sweep and passion. If indeed this is the farewell to life that some commentators claim, then the tone of this performance came close to the idea of being happy to have lived, and happy to let go. There was an almost ethereal, certainly an otherworldly quality, to the woodwind episodes with their unusual and oft-varied instrumentation.
The drawn-out final coda, two pages of music taking six minutes to play, was slowed right down and given with a heart-aching intensity that held the entire audience in communal stillness. I know I was holding my breath as the final note faded into silence, and I'm sure I wasn't the only one.
After so many fine Mahler performances with this orchestra, among the highlights of his tenure, I felt that this beautiful performance was the perfect note (pun intended) to wrap up my personal relationship as audience with Oundjian's music-making.
* * * * * * * * * *
The next post is an essay containing my own personal appreciation and assessment of Maestro Peter Oundjian's 14-year tenure with the Toronto Symphony Orchestra.
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