Thursday December 10th, 2015 - Pianist Jeffrey Kahane (above) was the soloist this evening as The New York Philharmonic presented the world premiere of a new piano concerto by Pulitzer Prize finalist Andrew Norman. James Gaffigan was on the podium for a program which also featured masterworks by Beethoven and Richard Strauss.
The Beethoven 4th opened the evening; sometimes regarded as an oddity in the progression of the composer's symphonies, it is programmed less often than its nearest siblings: the far-more-famous 3rd and 5th. As someone who is not terribly keen on the Beethoven symphonies (heresy...I know), I found the 4th to be truly enjoyable and am ready to call it my favorite among the nine, and to hear it again...repeatedly.
Maestro Gaffigan has an ingratiating podium style: he was dynamic and dancer-like as he swayed and demi-pliéd his way thru this most congenial of symphonies which, oddly enough, put me in mind of Bizet's Symphony in C. The Philharmonic were in fine fettle, with Sheryl Staples as concertmaster and with some lovely solo wind opportunities in the symphony's second movement: thank you Mssrs. McGill, Langevin, and Wang. In the final movement, a passage referred to as "the bassoon joke" was reeled off at high speed by Judith LeClair.
Following the interval, composer Andrew Norman was briefly interviewed by Maestro Gaffigan. Personally, I prefer to let new music speak for itself but Mr. Norman was perfectly charming as he admitted that he had still been tinkering with his new concerto earlier in the day. Jeffrey Kahane, who was the composer's source of inspiration for the work, then seated himself at the Steinway and gave a very impressive performance indeed, making the best possible case for the new work.
Split, as Mr. Norman's new concerto is entitled, is one of the more felicitous new compositions I have encountered in recent years. The composer looks melody straight in the eye, has a lovely gift for harmonies, and can create shining textures that tingle the spine. There is wit but also pensiveness in this music. Mr. Kahane truly has his work cut out for him in the demanding piano writing and he triumphs with sprightly dexterity - sometimes veering towards madness - as well as pinpoint control of ppp and even pppp dynamics when called for, and unfettered lyricism when opportunities arise.
No fewer than than eighteen percussion instruments are used in the work, and the composer keeps the three percussionists righteously employed. Mr. Norman had spoken of the inter-action between percussion and piano in this concerto, and indeed his craftsmanship of their various dialogues is impressive. Yet so much of the music was so savorable that the various cracks, snaps, and pings from the percussion could be distracting at times. It also seemed both to my companion and I that the music meandered a bit in places and might benefit from just a smidgen of savvy compression.
Misterioso piano passages, notably an extremely soft 4-note motif which appears at the very beginning and resurfaces later, are of particular appeal in Mr. Kahane's rendering. There's also a delightful bit where individual violinists, seemingly at random, strike single notes over a repetitive piano figuration. Flutes, horns, and solo violin are cunningly employed, and there's a brief chorale for the trumpets which added yet another colour. Rhythmic variety and skewed fragments of melody abound, and near the end there's a quietly wry passage where Mr. Kahane's left hand continues to strike notes while his right hand moves over the keys higher up without touching them.
The outstanding and truly memorable highlight of the Norman work was a sustained duo, which later re-appeared, for piano and viola. Here the marvelous Cynthia Phelps played so affectingly, her lovely theme entwined with Mr. Kahane's gently rapturous piano. So nice to hear shouts of "brava!" when Ms. Phelps took a bow at the end.
Mr. Gaffigan had his baton raised to start the concerto when the sound of a ghostly piano seeped into the hall from the upper tiers: someone's cellphone sounding at the worst possible moment. "That's not part of the score!" Maestro Gaffigan advised us. Finally the matter was resolved and the concerto began.
Richard Strauss's Till Eulenspiegel’s Merry Pranks was closing work tonight. Strauss knew that brevity is the soul of wit: this brilliant character piece clocks in at just over fifteen minutes. Maestro Gaffigan led an exhilarating performance of the score, with robust horns, jaunty woodwind comments, and a delightfully brisk downward plunge (over three octaves) from Ms. Staples. It's always a pleasure to see and hear her...and Ms. Phelps...and all the other expert musicians in this great orchestra.