Some of the audience may have been attracted by the programme: an enticing mixture of Prokofiev, Sibelius, and Stravinsky. But I suspect most of the near-capacity crowd at Roy Thomson Hall yesterday were there for the same reason I was: to see the Toronto Symphony Orchestra's next Music Director, Gustavo Gimeno, in action -- and to hear the results.
Mind you, the programme was nothing to sneer at: opening with the magnificent Violin Concerto of Sibelius, and moving on to Prokofiev's delightful Classical Symphony, the concert then concluded with the colourful suite from The Firebird, Stravinsky's folk-tale-based ballet. After the concert, there was an onstage talk chaired by the TSO's Chief Executive Officer, Michael Loden, with Maestro Gimeno and violin soloist & concertmaster Jonathan Crow, for which the audience were invited to submit questions in advance (questions were also taken from the floor).
I'm actually going to start with the talk, and then go backwards to the concert itself because of a few revealing comments that were made in that discussion.
First point to mention: Jonathan Crow spoke of learning the Sibelius concerto when he was a student of 15 years age, but then stated that he never visited it again until this year -- a quarter of a century later. That startled me -- I've always thought of the Sibelius as a repertoire cornerstone, but perhaps it's not so much in favour now as when I was a youngster, back in the old stone age.
Second, Gustavo Gimeno spoke of his musical background as a percussionist and teacher of percussion. This is the first time I've ever heard of a conductor coming from that particular background -- more comment later.
Finally, Jonathan Crow spoke very pointedly of his positive experience working with Gimeno, as concertmaster, as soloist, and also as last-desk player (Crow sat in the back desk of the second violins during the second part of the concert). He said that, although the experience was different in each role, the common thread was his feeling that Gimeno was interested first and foremost in helping him give his best, most musical performance in each role. That's a strong endorsement from the leader of the orchestra.
So, with those pieces of information in hand, to the music.
The Sibelius Concerto is a classic example of the romantic style of concerto in which the soloist mainly plays in alternation with the orchestra, rather than in partnership. Long passages of the solo role are either unaccompanied, or supported merely with ostinato or long-held drone notes. Gimeno's conducting in this work was eminently straightforward and free of interpretive touches, so as to give Crow the maximum leeway in shaping the solo part. Crow's playing throughout was marked by a strong feel for the heartbeat of the music, which can seem elusive in other hands. He displayed rich, clear tone on the low strings and equally clear, clean sound in the high harmonics. His account of the finale developed plenty of bounce and spring, without losing the music's essential character -- which was so memorably defined, for all time, when Tovey described it as "a polonaise for polar bears."
After the intermission, Gimeno led a brisk, bright interpretation of Prokofiev's Classical Symphony, the composer's first symphonic essay. His performance caught the witty air so essential to this miniature masterpiece, and the woodwind playing sparkled throughout -- most notably in the showy wind flourishes of the finale. Gimeno rightly called for the wind players to take a special bow after this work.
In the 1945 score of the Firebird by Stravinsky, Gimeno was able to cut loose more, leading the orchestra through a vigorous, sharply rhythmic interpretation of this most pictorial of the composer's ballet scores. There was again much beautiful playing from the winds, and the strings too in the quieter movements. A resounding, ear-slamming thwack from the bass drum launched the brutally driving Infernal Dance of Kastchei, with all the off-beat rhythms securely placed at a fast, rugged tempo. The final peroration of the Hymn brought a finely-shaped crescendo, spectacular emphasis in the brass chording, and a last phenomenal outburst in the final chord.
And what of Maestro Gimeno's conducting? It's actually a delight to watch a conductor who doesn't provide you with too much to watch. In fact, it's a positive relief after the podium gymnastics of some of the guest conductors I've seen through the decades, gymnastics which can and do interfere with my appreciation of the music. Gimeno's bearing on the podium and style with the baton brings to mind the adjective "aristocratic." While appearing totally at ease with his work, his stance is always upright, his beat remains crystal clear at all times, and his use of the baton is marked by rare precision combined with ease of motion. And that style is where it's easy to see that our new maestro previously worked as a percussionist!
From the concert, from the response of the musicians at the end, and from the post-concert talk, I came away with the strong impression that the Toronto Symphony Orchestra has made a wise choice for its new music director. I hope that his five-year tenure beginning in a little over a year (September 2020) will bear out my prediction. In the meantime, we have two more opportunities to hear his work in the coming season, and I intend to be on hand for both.
I'm actually going to start with the talk, and then go backwards to the concert itself because of a few revealing comments that were made in that discussion.
First point to mention: Jonathan Crow spoke of learning the Sibelius concerto when he was a student of 15 years age, but then stated that he never visited it again until this year -- a quarter of a century later. That startled me -- I've always thought of the Sibelius as a repertoire cornerstone, but perhaps it's not so much in favour now as when I was a youngster, back in the old stone age.
Second, Gustavo Gimeno spoke of his musical background as a percussionist and teacher of percussion. This is the first time I've ever heard of a conductor coming from that particular background -- more comment later.
Finally, Jonathan Crow spoke very pointedly of his positive experience working with Gimeno, as concertmaster, as soloist, and also as last-desk player (Crow sat in the back desk of the second violins during the second part of the concert). He said that, although the experience was different in each role, the common thread was his feeling that Gimeno was interested first and foremost in helping him give his best, most musical performance in each role. That's a strong endorsement from the leader of the orchestra.
So, with those pieces of information in hand, to the music.
The Sibelius Concerto is a classic example of the romantic style of concerto in which the soloist mainly plays in alternation with the orchestra, rather than in partnership. Long passages of the solo role are either unaccompanied, or supported merely with ostinato or long-held drone notes. Gimeno's conducting in this work was eminently straightforward and free of interpretive touches, so as to give Crow the maximum leeway in shaping the solo part. Crow's playing throughout was marked by a strong feel for the heartbeat of the music, which can seem elusive in other hands. He displayed rich, clear tone on the low strings and equally clear, clean sound in the high harmonics. His account of the finale developed plenty of bounce and spring, without losing the music's essential character -- which was so memorably defined, for all time, when Tovey described it as "a polonaise for polar bears."
After the intermission, Gimeno led a brisk, bright interpretation of Prokofiev's Classical Symphony, the composer's first symphonic essay. His performance caught the witty air so essential to this miniature masterpiece, and the woodwind playing sparkled throughout -- most notably in the showy wind flourishes of the finale. Gimeno rightly called for the wind players to take a special bow after this work.
In the 1945 score of the Firebird by Stravinsky, Gimeno was able to cut loose more, leading the orchestra through a vigorous, sharply rhythmic interpretation of this most pictorial of the composer's ballet scores. There was again much beautiful playing from the winds, and the strings too in the quieter movements. A resounding, ear-slamming thwack from the bass drum launched the brutally driving Infernal Dance of Kastchei, with all the off-beat rhythms securely placed at a fast, rugged tempo. The final peroration of the Hymn brought a finely-shaped crescendo, spectacular emphasis in the brass chording, and a last phenomenal outburst in the final chord.
And what of Maestro Gimeno's conducting? It's actually a delight to watch a conductor who doesn't provide you with too much to watch. In fact, it's a positive relief after the podium gymnastics of some of the guest conductors I've seen through the decades, gymnastics which can and do interfere with my appreciation of the music. Gimeno's bearing on the podium and style with the baton brings to mind the adjective "aristocratic." While appearing totally at ease with his work, his stance is always upright, his beat remains crystal clear at all times, and his use of the baton is marked by rare precision combined with ease of motion. And that style is where it's easy to see that our new maestro previously worked as a percussionist!
From the concert, from the response of the musicians at the end, and from the post-concert talk, I came away with the strong impression that the Toronto Symphony Orchestra has made a wise choice for its new music director. I hope that his five-year tenure beginning in a little over a year (September 2020) will bear out my prediction. In the meantime, we have two more opportunities to hear his work in the coming season, and I intend to be on hand for both.
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