Above: soprano Miah Persson, photographed by Monika Rittershaus
~ Author: Oberon
Wednesday November 7th, 2018 - Music of Schubert and Beethoven soothed the spirit after all the stress of the mid-term election frenzy. The stress continues, and music remains the best antidote. The Philharmonic played sumptuously all evening under the baton of Iván Fischer.
The Schubert symphonies, musically impeccable as they are, don't really send me. Tonight, the composer's very pleasant Fifth Symphony (1816) put me as close as I have ever come to falling asleep in the concert hall. This had nothing to do with the conducting or the playing, but simply that - to me - this is music that stays on the surface, however lovely that surface might be.
In music that radiates optimism, Maestro Fischer let the composer's songfulness fill the hall. Robert Langevin's flute playing - as ever - fell graciously on the ear. The symphony wends its way onward, with momentary musical shadows quickly dispelled and Springtime freshness prevailing. Overall, I felt a bit like I was being served dessert first. Not a bad thing, really; but in my old age, my taste for sweets has become less keen.
Above: Anthony McGill, the Philharmonic's principal clarinetist, playing at the Temple of Dendur
Anthony McGill and soprano Miah Persson then took the stage for Franz Schubert's Shepherd on the Rock. Ms. Persson has had such an important career that it's somewhat embarrassing for me to say that this evening was my first experience of hearing her live. In fact, incredibly enough, I had not heard her voice at all until earlier this year when I watched a DVD of the Glyndebourne production of Britten's TURN OF THE SCREW in which the soprano gives an excellent performance as The Governess.
In the TURN OF THE SCREW production mentioned above, Miah Persson appears as a rather prim and proper brunette; this evening at the Philharmonic, she swept onstage: a comely blonde looking classically elegant in her gown of a distinctive shade of blue. The dapper Mr. McGill was at Maestro Fischer's right hand as the Philharmonic premiere of Shepherd on the Rock, arranged for large ensemble by Carl Reinecke, commenced.
From the start, I must say, Reinecke's orchestration did this Schubert jewel no favors. A fluffed entry from the horns did not auger well, and in general the layers of sound and internal movement obliterated the simple charm of the music in its voice-clarinet-piano setting, which was so marvelously rendered at Chamber Music Society in 2016. But Mr. McGill's sustained-tone entry, so luminous a note that I felt I might burst into tears, set things to rights.
Throughout the piece, the master clarinetist gave the music a pearly lustre, with ravishing dynamic nuances and coloratura cascades filled with limpid light. Few sounds that I have experienced caress the ear to such sheer delight as that of Anthony McGill's clarinet.
Ms. Persson meanwhile was making a marvelous effect in this music. Her voice is more of a full lyric than a lyric-coloratura, and as such her sound fit ideally into the richer, denser canvas of the Reinecke arrangement. One felicitous phrase followed another, and she lent the vocal line an unusual depth of emotion with her dusky, expressive lower notes.
As the mood of the piece shifted, at In tiefem Gram verzehr ich mich!, Ms. Persson's vocal colourings and her intrinsic gift for dynamic modulation were simply sublime as she sang of her loneliness and longing; her softest notes were woven exquisitely into the vocal line. Time and again, this singer's voice gave me shivers of pleasure.
But then, things somehow went awry. Maestro Fischer introduced an up-sweeping tempo for the final strophe of the poem, and then accelerated further as the singer anticipates the Springtime. Where's the fire? The orchestral textures became muddied, and while Mr. McGill kept pace, Ms. Persson seemed a bit pressed, and her highest notes were too rushed and unsettled. Not quite the ending we might have hoped for. Enthusiastic applause, but not the type of pandemonium that might have erupted had a more reasonable tempo in the final passages been applied.
For all that, Mr. McGill was sensational, and I am anxious to hear Ms. Persson again: I'm thinking she'd be the Marschallin we've been waiting for.
Above: Maestro Iván Fischer, photographed by Marco Borggreve
Fourth symphonies rule! The 4ths of Mahler, Brahms, Tchaikovsky, and Beethoven are all top favorites of mine. Tonight, with Maestro Fischer on the podium for the Beethoven 4th, this less-favoured of the master's nine symphonies gave a lot of enjoyment. Unlike the opening Schubert, the broader emotional range of the Beethoven gives us more to think about, and to feel.
Beethoven's Fourth was premiered at the Lobkowitz Palace in Vienna in March 1807; being a private concert, there are no first-hand reports of critical or audience reaction. Beethoven's use of a slow introduction makes a profound impression, its classicism intriguingly jarred by some pointed dissonances before embarking on an Allegro vivace, rich with melodies. As the music takes off, the Philharmonic's principal bassoonist Judith LeClair sets up a lively rhythmic figuration. Mssrs. McGill and Langevin, along with oboist Sherry Sylar, dot the music with charming solo bits, whilst the strings sound simply super.
In the Adagio, the strings produce a sensation of rolling waves. Mr. McGill has a plush-toned solo, the bassoons a pulsing motif, and the violins a harmonized interlude. Mr. McGill intrigues us again, playing over plucked strings. The basses resonate, the horns give a burnished quality.
The ensuing Allegro vivace is neither fully a scherzo nor a minuet; it has a life of its own...and a witty end. Bustling strings in perpetual motion enliven the final Allegro, ma non troppo with its nod to Haydn and its quizzical little bassoon jest.
~ Oberon