MiV Home
Alix Goolden Performance Hall
June 27, 2009
"You know the feeling when somebody takes the word out of your mouth before you have time to form it? That was always my experience in Dvorák's company...his melodies were as if he had taken them from my heart."
Of all Dvorák's music, his Symphony No.8 in G is the one which, for me, most sounds as if - in Leos Janacek's words - the melodies were taken from my heart. For all of its occasionally ramshackle structure and episodic moments, this is probably the one work of Dvorák which I really could not live without.
It can be imagined, then, how much I enjoyed the final item in the final concert of the Sooke Philharmonic's 2008-9 season: a marvellously engaging performance of the Eighth, superbly directed by Norman Nelson and for the most part excellently played. Nelson is clearly a man who believes in playing Romantic music to the hilt. This may not be entirely fashionable in these post-modern times, but it seems to me that, of all the valid ways of approaching this music, his is the most valid.
From the affetuoso opening to the final blazing peroration Nelson did not put a foot wrong and his players responded magnificently. There was marvellously lush playing from the strings, atmospheric winds, firm and confident brass, all playing the music as if their lives depended on it.
Amidst some genuinely inspired playing there were admittedly a few less-than-inspired moments - the muddy ensemble at the opening of the grazioso third movement, some problems with tuning in the winds, to name but two - but these were minor blemishes when considered beside the performance's assets, which were manifold.
If there is one section of the orchestra who receive more than their fair share of the melodic interest, it is the cellos - and they were particularly fine on Saturday night.
A memorable performance indeed.
In late 1874 - or possibly early 1875 - Tchaikovsky played his recently-completed Piano Concerto No.1 to the great virtuoso Nikolai Rubinstein at the Moscow Conservatory. Rubinstein's overwhelmingly negative reactions have become the stuff of musical legend; given the subsequent popularity of the work, modern music-lovers may find themselves wondering how Rubinstein could possibly have misjudged it so badly.
But, as Tchaikovsky biographer John Warrack has observed, Rubinstein's criticisms were not that far off the mark. The "poor" writing for the soloist? "Certainly", writes Warrack," there are passages which even the greatest virtuoso is glad to survive unscathed, and others in which elaborate difficulties are almost inaudible beneath the orchestra."
Another criticism was that the music suffered from "outside influences and unevenness of invention...but it must be conceded that the music is uneven and that [it] would, like all works, seem the more uneven on a first hearing before its style had been properly understood."
For me - and, I know, for a few others in the hall - Rubinstein had it right the first time and it is a compliment to soloist Carolyn Tsao, indeed to all concerned in Saturday's performance, that I found the music considerably less tiresome than usual.
What, for example, is the soloist to make of her first entry, a staggeringly uninteresting sequence of D flat major chords? (Incidentally, these chords were not in the first two published editions and have been claimed as the contribution of pianist Alexander Siloti - "author" of the severely truncated edition of Tchaikovsky's second concerto.)
The soloist can either play them in a ham-fisted manner, clearly wanting to dispense with them as quickly as possible and get to the more impressive double-octave passages; or she can shape them carefully, as did Tsao, and imbue them with as much interest as is humanly possible.
In fact Tsao's was a fine performance throughout, with dazzling passagework - although some of it, as Rubinstein pointed out, was inaudible underneath the "accompaniment". Occasionally there was a slight edge to her fortissimos, but I am quite prepared to attribute that to the somewhat over-bright hall acoustic - which can also make the full orchestra sound rather overbearing at full volume. I was particularly impressed by her concentrated playing of the first movement cadenza.
The slow movement opened with some commendably precise pizzicatos supporting Alison Crone's delicious flute solo and featured some lovely tonal colouring from Tsao. Occasionally the sparse accompaniment seemed to lack confidence, but Tsao's tempo change to the quicker, 6/8 section was picked up with style by Nelson and his orchestra. But how odd that what seems charming in the Dvorák - the highly episodic nature of the music - should irritate so much here.
The finale was lively and exciting - well, I exaggerate somewhat, as personally I don't find anything about this concerto exciting - with a tremendous orchestral crescendo leading to the cadenza and a spectacular close.
Carolyn Tsao is a pianist I should most definitely wish to hear again - but next time, playing something with a bit of depth please.
The concert opened with a bang; or, to be precise, three of them.
Norman Nelson directed a thrilling performance of Smetana's Three Dances from The Bartered Bride, which featured some very difficult syncopated rhythms and eardrum-threatening fortissimos - no danger of even hearing the passing traffic!
To open a concert with music of this technical difficulty is a sign of how much the Sooke Philharmonic have improved over the years.
And how gratifying it was to have to wait in line to gain entrance; clearly the Sookies are beginning, here in Victoria, to gain the recognition they so richly deserve.
MiV Home