Orchestras in New York and Boston: Opening Nights

It’s not fair to say that the New York Philharmonic and the Boston Symphony Orchestra were peeking at each other’s season-opening plans, but for sure there were strange and wonderful program similarities.  

Both orchestras have moved beyond the days when slightly tipsy donors—mostly non-musicians—dozed though excerpts from “Fledermaus” and maybe “West Side Story.”  The Philharmonic, Sept. 19, and the BSO the following evening,  both led by their music directors, performed bold and risky programs, with a world premiere plus works from the 20th century.

As opposed to being a one-off—effectively preceding the season—these concerts were repeated the following nights, as part of the regular programming.  Jaap van Zweden at the Phil in Lincoln Center’s David Geffen Hall, and Andris Nelsons at the BSO in Symphony Hall, led with firm control, and one sensed their commitment to the material.

The classy Phil program had two Shakespeare settings, from “King Lear” and “Romeo and Juliet.”  Introduced at this event, and opening it, which is to say, following a stirring version of “The Star-Spangled Banner,” was a Philip Glass overture to “King Lear”—not related to his score for the recent Broadway show, but part of an opera in the nether regions of the 82-year-old Glass’s vision.

The ten-minute piece was not about Lear, of course, but about Glass, with all his percussive trademarks:  timpani, triangle, woodblock, castanets, anvil, shaker, suspended cymbal, tambourine, tom-toms, snare drum, tenor drum, bass drum, orchestra bells, xylophone and vibraphone.

Scales in this work were essentially in minor key, with steely, steady or calypso bass beat.  Along with rich keyboard-and-string arpeggios were loud, sour moments, and maddeningly pedestrian phrases.  You either love Glass or hate him:  chances are you’re not vacillating.  I am at a loss to explain my attraction to all this, but heaven knows I’m not alone.  Steve Reich and Julia Wolfe, founders of the Bang on a Can contemporary ensemble, were among luminary Glass colleagues in the large audience, which sprang to its feet cheering as Glass was brought on stage for a bow.
photo:  Chris Lee
Barber’s “Knoxville: Summer of 1915” had nice touches.  One was coincidental:  the 1948 premiere had been performed by Koussevitzky and the BSO.  The poignant setting is of a haunting, nostalgic prose poem by James Agee.  To please the wider crowd, they brought in the lovely soprano Kelli O’Hara, loved for leading roles in top Broadway musicals.  Sweet to look at, she has fine technique, and thanks to words on a big screen, was easy to understand.
 
But as the critic David Wright trenchantly observed: “In an effort to sound ‘classical,’ she seemed to abandon her theatrical strengths for a singing style in which she had less to offer.”  Her singing was a little thin, and high notes were not uniformly on key.  Well, it’s good to hear this piece again, and hard to resist smiling gently.

Van Zweden’s selections from Prokofiev’s two “Romeo and Juliet” ballet suites were the orchestra’s chance to shine—or not so much, as it happened.  A few brass clams and a number of ragged entrances marred his solid, experienced reading.  It’s a good bet that the three ensuing performances went better.

In Boston, Nelsons has the inestimable advantage of working with Artistic Administrator Anthony Fogg, who is developing the earmarks of National Treasure.  Nelsons has come along so well—his beat size, strength, brass sympathies, repertory choices—that a minority view (adherents of the Devil, no doubt) is that Fogg had a hand in creating him.  Fogg loved working with James Levine too, but nobody else could create Levine, ever.
 
The concert opened with Poulenc’s Concerto for Two Pianos, and before intermission moved to Beethoven’s Fantasia for Piano, chorus and orchestra.  The musical reason for this apparent non-sequitur is that after intermission, the new Concerto for Orchestra by Eric Nathan was followed by the Poulenc “Gloria,” a matching choral work.  Most of the Tanglewood Festival Chorus, which sang smooth if not exciting interpretations of both, sat on stage for the entire concert.

Generally, Boston’s opening night looked different from New York’s, which treated it as something of a gala:  pre-concert receptions, and dressing, if not to the nines, to at least the sixes.  In Boston, concertmaster Malcolm Lowe, has retired and the first associate was not even present.  It was weeknight crowd and dress, little festive re-uning, and no anticipation on the order of the Charles Ives song, “We’re sitting in the opera house.”  No fear of premature shouts or applause.

The Poulenc concerto was performed with suave skill and exquisite togetherness by the young Dutch brothers Lucas and Arthur Jussen, in their BSO debut.  Arthur then played the Beethoven in similar style, and solos were sung by recent alumni of the orchestra’s Tanglewood Music Center.  It received the evening’s largest ovation.
 
Eric Nathan, who has had a previous BSO commission (“Timbered Bells,” for brass) is a Tanglewood alumnus too, as well as a winner of the Rome Prize.  His 18-minute Concerto for Orchestra, in three connected movements, is a perhaps-hopeful nod to Bartok’s famous piece of the same title, also commissioned and introduced by the BSO.  It’s loud, tonal, and not hard to take, sporting—as the title suggests—showy writing for different instrumental sections.  A couple of flubs in a first hearing are not worth mentioning.  There were two more chances.

photo:  Winslow Townson

Concluding the concert was the Poulenc “Gloria,” with soprano Nicole Cabell, who gave a sober, focused performance—and the attentive chorus.  The BSO had given the world premiere of this also, under Charles Munch.  It is veritable Poulenc, with seconds in the chords, nasal point, and smelly scales.  Appropriate and balanced but not wild or heart-tugging, it spans a range of moods.  The joyous “Laudamus Te” is not at the end, but it bounced around in the memory after the satisfying program had ended.