Above: pianist Jean-Yves Thibaudet
Friday February 13th, 2015 matinee - Today's concert at The New York Philharmonic turned out to be one of the highlights of the musical season...and, since it's been quite a wonderful season to date, that's saying a lot. For one thing, we had a piece of 'new music' by James MacMillan that was sonically captivating and marvelously played. And then we had Stéphane Denève, a conductor making his Philharmonic debut in this series of concerts and making quite a splash both as a musician and as a personality. Add two masterpieces from the French and Russian repertoires respectively, and an attentive, appreciative audience, and...Voilà!...a truly enjoyable afternoon.
The programme had definite ballet associations for me: the Fauré Pelléas et Mélisande Suite was used by George Balanchine for his masterpiece EMERALDS; and the Scottish composer James MacMillan wrote the score for Christopher Wheeldon's 2004 ballet SHAMBARDS at NYCB - a controversial work which has not been revived since, but should be.
Stéphane Denève (above) is a tall, imposing figure with a mop of curly gingery hair and a beautiful conducting technique. His reading of the Fauré literally gave me goose-bumps: so refined and yet so deep in emotional resonance. This perfumed score has such heart-melting melodies, and Maestro Denève drew us in immediately with a whispering super-pianissimo opening theme. Harmonies like enchanting fragrances waft thru the score, and the many solo voices that are so evocative in this music touched the spirit with their clarity and grace.
I often wish that the wind players of the Philharmonic might be seated on risers, the better for us to see them as they play their featured passages, and so they can be recognized as individuals. We did have a glimpse of Robert Langevin (flute), Liang Wang (oboe), Mark Nuccio (clarinet), and Judith LeClair (bassoon); and I assume that was Nancy Allen at her harp: all simply superb. Kudos too for the horn, trumpet and cello (all obscured from our view by music stands or other players)...but I wanted to make note of their sterling playing. A brava! also to Michelle Kim, today's concertmaster.
One thing I adored about Denève today was that he wisely managed to short-circuit any possible applause between movements (both here and in the Tchaikovsky 4th) simply by keeping his hand raised until the musicians were ready to commence again. Thus the already sublime experience of hearing the Fauré today became even more dreamlike and intimate.
The Steinway then came gliding into place for the MacMillan concerto. As a rule, introductory remarks during a concert or dance performance are annoying, but Maestro Denève and pianist Jean-Yves Thibaudet actually gave us some valuable information about the concerto. The mini-lecture was delivered with much charm in the conductor's lovely accented voice; after the pianist demonstrated one especially evocative phrase, Denève said, as an aside: "It sounds almost French, doesn't it?" We were really warming to this guy!
Above: composer James MacMillan
And then the concerto began in earnest and the music drew us into another realm: James MacMillan's Piano Concerto No. 3 is aptly subtitled The Mysteries of Light and these are its New York City premiere performances.
The concerto is inspired by the structure of the Rosary, and a program note describes the five movements which are played without interruption: 1) Jesus’s Baptism in the Jordan (with plainsong and the piano playing “fast, virtuosic episodes accompanied by a tolling bell”); 2) His self-manifestation at the wedding of Cana (“the mood is celebratory and dance-inspired”); 3) His proclamation of the Kingdom of God (“serene and intimate…then momentarily the mood darkens more boisterously before subsiding”); 4) His Transfiguration, featuring layers of orchestral sounds with mysterious music from the piano; and 5) His institution of the Eucharist (“joyous and rhythmic, framed by syncopated ‘dance’ refrains.”)
Mr. Thibaudet is the most persuasive possible advocate for this work; his playing dwelt in a luminous other-world where the spiritual evocations of the concerto's themes were spun out in shimmering cascades of notes with the occasional thunderous intrusion. His playing was rapturous and his fantastical control of dynamics took us deeper and deeper into the heavenly aura. Wrapped around this pianistic paragon, Denève and the artists of the Philharmonic gave us textures of sound that sustained the spiritual atmosphere.
A gorgeous climax seemed to have been reached with long-sustained chords, yet the concerto is not over yet; at first it seemed the composer might have miscalculated here, but all's well as ends well. Because it speaks to the heart and soul as well as to the mind, MacMillan's music sets itself in a high echelon among the works we've heard by contemporary composers. The audience seemed very taken with his music, and with the pianist and conductor as well. I was especially pleased when the elderly gentleman seated in front of us, who had spent the half-hour time frame of the concerto quietly kissing his wife's hand, leapt to his feet with a hearty 'bravo!' and joined in the chorus of approval.
The second half of the concert belonged to Tchaikovsky, and to Maestro Denève.
This familiar work opens with a rich and ripe brass fanfare. The longish, melodious opening Andante gives way to the sweet-sad-song-like Andantino wherein Liang Wang's oboe - and later Judith LeClair's bassoon - were heard at their best. A particular joy was to be found in the Scherzo which the Maestro drew playing of remarkable delicacy from the ensemble. Mssers. Wang, Langevin, and Nuccio all pipe up lovingly.
And then, with a brilliant flourish, we are off in the final Allegro con fuoco. A Russian folk song sets the theme, followed by an almost march-like passage. For a time things turn more somber, but then the music regains its positive momentum and all seems right with the world.
And all seemed right with Maestro Denève as well: the audience embraced him with applause of special warmth. Over the course of the afternoon, my friend Dmitry and I began to speak of Denève as a perfectly viable candidate to replace the departing Alan Gilbert as the orchestra's music director. He has many qualities that recommend him for the job: he's knowledgeable, sensitive, charming, bold, and witty. I would think he'd be a joy to work with. It's early days yet, but not too soon to start thinking of favorite possibilities.