Above: Frank Huang, concertmaster of The New York Philharmonic
~ Author: Oberon
Thursday November 1st, 2018 - Two scores that have been choreographed by Peter Martins for New York City Ballet were on offer tonight at The New York Philharmonic: Samuel Barber's Violin Concerto and Sergei Rachmaninoff's Symphonic Dances. Both ballets are among Martins' best works. The Philharmonic's concertmaster, Frank Huang, was soloist for the Barber; Juraj Valčuha was on the podium.
This program was red-lettered by me when the Philharmonic season was announced months ago. Unfortunately, the more one is looking forward to something, the more likely it will be sabotaged...as witness the Czech Philharmonic's recent Mahler 2nd at Carnegie Hall. Distracting audience behavior sent us packing early tonight.
This Philharmonic concert opened with Erich Korngold's Much Ado About Nothing Suite. This very attractive music has the feel of a Hollywood film soundtrack. Tall and handsome, Maestro Valčuha looked truly dapper in his tux as he led the Philharmonic players thru this pleasant but ultimately unmemorable score: this is music that asks nothing more of its listeners than that they sit back and let it wash over them.
All well and good, especially in a performance so perfectly executed as tonight's, strewn with lovely opportunities for the Philharmonic's solo players. Each of the Suite's movements relates to the Shakespeare play, commencing with a blithe and bonny Overture. Maidens in the Bridal Chamber features a delectable cello solo from the wonderful Eileen Moon-Myers which sets up a mood of wistful romance. I could not see the solo flautist, but Pascual Martínez-Forteza's clarinet sounded dreamy.
The comic characters Dogberry and Verges of the Night Watch are portrayed in a wryly ironic march; during a lull, Cynthia Phelps's viola sounds with lovely clarity. Harp, piano, and cello (Ms. Moon-Myers again) play the lullabye-like Intermezzo, which gets quite sentimental. Ms. Phelps's viola sings again: simply gorgeous.
The finale's Hornpipe dances along with bustling horns and a general sense of merriment.
Barber's is my enduring favorite among violin concertos; a close runner-up, the Prokofiev 1st, was just performed at the Philharmonic last week by Gil Shaham. Over the years. I have heard this concerto more than a dozen times as played by the NYC Ballet's fine orchestra, usually with one of their estimable concertmasters - Arturo Delmoni or Kurt Nikkanen - as soloist. Up until this evening, my only chances to hear the Barber in a concert setting have been played by Augustin Hadelich at Carnegie Hall in 2014 and by Lisa Batiashvili (with the Philharmonic) in 2015.
Tonight, Frank Huang's performance of the Barber - and the brilliant music-making of his Philharmonic colleagues - made for a deeply rewarding experience. Maestro Valčuha delved into the emotional depths of the music, exploring the darkish aspects of the score whilst savouring its heartfelt lyricism. Truly magnificent!
However, things did not start well: Mr. Huang had tucked his violin under his chin - with his colleagues at the ready, the Maestro poised to give the downbeat - when a phone rang. This did not sound like a cellphone, but rather a landline. It finally stopped, and the restive audience settled in. But just as the music commenced, the phone rang again.
At last the Barber began, with the piano (what a terrific stroke of imagination on Barber's part to include it!) immediately making its mark. Mr. Huang had a score near him on a stand, but he hardly ever seemed to refer to it. His tone - luminous and heartfelt - gave great pleasure throughout the concerto's first two movements, then appropriately turned skittish and wiry in the complex, fast-paced Presto in moto perpetuo.
Throughout the first movement, the orchestra played with compelling richness and passion; Maestro Valčuha's clear affinity for this music summoned up an ideally rhapsodic quality from the players which was beautifully sustained. There were a few bars when the orchestra nearly swamped Mr. Huang, but that was soon remedied.
There is a spectacular moment as the first movement reaches its climax: the basses and celli take a vertiginous plunge that never fails to send chills up my spine. Tonight, it was again thrilling to experience; and from this, Mr. Huang restates the main them with glowing tone.
While the violinist lavished each phrase with colour and emotional depth, the pianist (Eric Huebner is listed, but I had no view of him) continually made his mark. The solo passages from Mr. Forteza and oboist Sherry Sylar were ravishing.
Ms. Sylar brought tears to my eyes with the plaintive melancholy of the long oboe solo at the start of the Andante. Some people have wondered at Barber's giving such a prominent passage to an instrument that is not the one for which the concerto is written. But, as played by Ms. Sylar, it creates an atmosphere that is thoughtful and truly touching. Mr. Forteza also has his moments here, and so does the horn player (who I could not see).
When Mr. Huang does finally make his entry, the effect is heavenly. As the Andante flowed on, I felt so deeply connected to this music and to the musicians playing it. Sustaining a long note that fades to a shimmer, Mr. Huang had me under his spell.
The concerto's surprisingly brief and edgy Moto perpetuo is full of eccentric accents and deft counter-punches. Mr. Huang reveled in the abundance of notes, played at high speed. Following the concerto's brisk ending, the audience gave the violinist a rousing reception. And Ms. Sylar rightly won bravas as she stood for a bow.
It's always a pleasure to be at a Philharmonic concert when one of the home players steps into the spotlight. Mr. Huang truly deserved the prolonged applause that greeted him at his bows.
Maestro Juraj Valčuha (above)
But for all its excellence, this evening's performance of the Barber tested my patience. Aside from the dreadful ringing of the phone, we had talkers in front of us and coughers behind. My quiet "shhhh" as Mr. Huang began playing drew a nasty glance from the woman who was talking. And the afflicted cougher of course required a brisk unzipping of a pocketbook, the scavenging for a lozenge, the unwrapping of same, and the re-zipping the purse. No sooner had that fire been put out than another coughing jag commenced nearby.
Primed as we had been to hear the Rachmaninoff Symphonic Dances, the lack of consideration of those seated around us decided us instead to forego the big exciting Russian work and head home with the Barber fresh in our minds.
People have sometimes told me that I am too sensitive, and that I need to immunize myself against audience distractions and learn to ignore them. The truth is, I shouldn't have to.
~ Oberon