Above: violinist Janine Jansen with Meastro Jaap van Zweden, photographed during this evening's New York Philharmonic concert by Chris Lee; courtesy of the NY Philharmonic
~ Author: Oberon
Thursday February 13th, 2020 - My first experience of hearing Janine Jansen live tonight proved every bit as exciting as I'd hoped it would be. She opened this evening's New York Philharmonic program with the Brahms violin concerto; Jaap van Zweden was on the podium.
Ms. Jansen strode onto the Geffen Hall stage, clad in a striking emerald-green gown; she stood quietly as the concerto's rather lengthy orchestral introduction was played - to perfection - by the Philharmonic. From the violinist's opening notes, it was clear that we were in for a highly emotional performance; even in the quietest, calmest passages, a sense of the artist's passionate nature could be felt. The opening Allegro non troppo, filled with leaps, arpeggios, double-stops, and rapid passage-work, was thrilling to hear; Ms. Jansen's spun-silver pianissimi gave me the chills. The cadenza - created by the great Joseph Joachim, to whom the concerto was dedicated - was vividly played. Following a crystalline trill of long duration, the movement comes to its lyrical close. Maestro van Zweden kept his arms raised, precluding applause, which would have ruined the atmosphere.
Over the years, violinists have been known to complain that Brahms gave one of the concerto's most appealing melodies to the oboe: this opens the Adagio, and was tonight played so persuasively by the Philharmonic's Sherry Sylar. Ms. Jansen takes up the melody, with the horns commenting. The violinist's miraculously-sustained final note - a fine thread of tone - had an other-worldly gleam.
The lively lilt of the concerto's finale found the orchestra in high spirits whilst Ms. Jansen dispatched myriad notes at high velocity and offered delicious turns of phrase during more lyrical passages. As her spectacular performance reached its end, the audience's pent-up excitement was unleashed in an epic ovation.
The great Brahms concerto felt tonight like more than a tonic: it had the effect of a transfusion of beauty and hope. The hall, packed with ardent music-lovers, applauded with unfettered joy, and the artists of the Philharmonic joined in enthusiastically, calling Ms. Jansen out for repeated bows. And an encore.
Above: performance photo of Janine Jansen by Chris Lee, courtesy of The NY Philharmonic
Tana León's Stride was having its world premiere this evening; a co-commission by The New York Philharmonic and the Oregon Symphony, the work is part of the Philharmonic's Project 19, celebrating the 100th anniversary of the passing of the 19th Amendment.
Greeted with great affection by the audience, Ms. León spoke movingly of the woman who inspired her new creation: Susan B Anthony. The composer pointed out that the 19th amendment in its original form did not extend the voting right to women of colour. It took some 45 years for that omission to be setto rights. Ms. Ms. León's Stride makes a subtle reference to these 'omitted' women in the work's final measures
Stride is immaculately crafted, and alive with numerous musical enticements: the opening ultra-soft (nearly inaudible) note sustained by the violins, the joining horns and trumpets, the curious richness of the vibraphone. Fanfare-like motifs from the brass sound over the string ensemble; our ears prick up at the sound of the timpani, xylophone, and marimba. The trumpets use wah-wah mutes, the xylophone and clarinet team up for a jaunty passage, and a large bean shaker invokes the thought of votes being counted. Basses and timpani duet, and the horns seem to stutter. A sustained tremelo from the celli comes like a portent; chimes and bells sound before the folkish reference to Africa makes its brief appearance.
For all its sonic variety, Stride at times seemed to lose momentum; this may be a reference to the many hindrances Susan B Anthony encountered in her quest. Yet I guess I expected something more uplifting...or triumphing.
The evening closed with a magnificent performance of Richard Strauss's Der Rosenkavalier Suite. How thoughtful of the Philharmonic to program this work on Valentine's Day eve, since it was on February 14th, 1970 that I saw Der Rosenkavalier for the very first time: Marion Lippert, Christa Ludwig, Reri Grist, George Shirley, and Walter Berry headed the cast, and my seat was in the Met's very rront row, behind the left shoulder of the eminent conductor (and friend of the composer) Karl Böhm. The 50th anniversary of that event was thus celebrated just a few hours early.
How sumptuously the Philharmonic played these sweeping themes tonight: the irresistible waltzes, the heavenly music of the Presentation of the Silver Rose, the bittersweet trio wherein the Marschallin surrenders her young lover Octavian to the innocent Sophie, and the sweetly harmonized final duet of the boy and girl embarking on a great romantic adventure. It ends with a delightful Straussian touch: a musical depiction of the Blackamoor returning to the empty stage to retrieve Sophie's dropped handkerchief. The music features so many splendid opportunities for the Philharmonic's marvelous principal artists to shine (and for individual sections to sing forth,too). It's a veritable cornucopia of melody.
~ Oberon