DR Kultur: DSO Berlin, Jiri Belohlavek. French, Slavic program. Isabelle Faust, violin. 09.03.11 Philharmonie, Berlin.

Jiri Belohlavek, music director of BBC Symphony Orchestra, chose interesting combination of French and Slavic repertoire for this (presumably return) guest engagement with DSO Berlin. Violinist Isabelle Faust was soloist for rhapsodies by Ravel and Bartok. Belohlavek opened with Ma Mere l’Oye (Mother Goose) Suite by Maurice Ravel, the one altogether non-Slavic work on this program. With the warmth, nuance, color with which Belohlavek infused this, especially from DSO winds, a gentle hint for suggestion of patina from the piano music, opera Vixen from Janacek came to mind – fortunately without distorting Ravel’s rhythms, sound world. The clarity of the playing was such, not to fear comparison with for instance a chillier Pierre Boulez. This proved Belohlavek’s most successful contribution to this program.

Such as for ‘Petit Poucet, some of the slower lyricism in Ravel’s suite tempted from Belohlavek a slight tendency to drag – toward very deftly drawing out much color with just lightly gilding it. Pointing of the chinoserie in ‘Laidronette’ along with piquant, light bird call revealed a like-minded, intimate feel for nature this music – as an aside like that of Janacek - openly invites. Trio led by deep toned bass clarinet brought out the equally deep meditative quality of Ravel’s opening out to the Far East. The self-contained complacency of solo clarinet depicting ‘la belle’ in ‘Belle et la bete’ was ideal, as was by contrast doleful, contra-basson tempting to court her – DSO strings leaning a bit hard for her anxious replies. The dreamy conclusion to this, in helping prepare mood for the opening of ‘Jardin feerique’ was perfect. “Le Jardin feerique’ opened with fine solemnity, at only mildly slack comodo pace – with concertmaster Burkhard Hartog sweetly limning solemnity below with sweet consequents. Belohlavek stepped back to let all with greatest ease sink into fully achieved cadence out of which to build fine calibrated opening out of much splendor to bring this suite to a fine close.

It took until orchestral accompanied second half of Ravel’s Tzigane for violinist Isabelle Faust to show resilience toward achieving good confidence in approaching this piece in place of something more brazen, willful - and then through Bartok to follow, all went well. For first half of Tzigane however, with already apparently sufficient technique to conquer this piece, supporting discretion to back it up went missing. There is purposefully the modernism, stylization to how Tzigane is constructed, that it does not need near so much help as Faust attempted providing, with all the back-phrasing, extra shoving on phrase endings, extra-heavy bow strokes, hint of Bing Crosby or of jazz riff at several junctures, etc. The utter wildness of Ravel’s highly realistic opening – not quite genuinely Magyar as Bartok, but definitely a cut above on genuinely folkloric terms over Vienniese café manner of Liszt or Brahms, got lost.

With DSO Berlin harpist overshadowing Faust on segue in – even with intermittent continuation of pushing not achieved from within, all came much better into focus, for Belohlavek’s grasp of color, genuinely Slavic feel for what more genuinely constitutes ‘gypsy’ Concertato light speed up for refrain in clarinets and horns was spot-on – and in particular other contributions from a still very fine wind section in DSO Berlin. Isabelle Faust in being obsequious, then provided fine collaboration for most of the second half of this, and again remained assured during the Bartok Rhapsody No. 2 to follow.

Orchestral adaptation of the Bartok Second Rhapsdy with its deftly added coloration and shift in emphasis, removes a little of the edge of the wildness of especially the stomping rhythms that constantly propel its ‘Friss’ (second) half. Belohlavek’s feel for it, together with Faust was idiomatic for this setting, the only thing to complain about perhaps being a little further softening of this music’s edge and rhythms. The soulful character of this music, especially for its first half, was never in doubt, and in color, and bowing from orchestra and soloist alike, through constant metamorphosis of step informing the ‘Friss’ and its coloristic implications (piano accompaniment is less skillful in achieving - making it different piece this way) – for instance in passage during ‘Friss’ where soloist combines figuration with harps (prickly by contrast in the piano accompanied version), very deftly handled by all three players. Faust and Hartog combined efforts with, as encore, two Bartok duos (out of the forty-four) fully, confidently in mastery of by turns soulful and earthy savagery of the writing. All was limber from both Faust and Hartog – that simplicity Faust denied the first half of Tzigane was no longer in doubt.

Belohlavek, after interval, selected a relaxed, slightly broadening pace for the first movement to Dvorak’s sunny D Major Symphony (No. 6). Throughout, this was a Sixth conscientious to stress its lyrical aspects, only almost making something comparable to Brahms’s first orchestral serenade thereof – or more to the F Major Symphony preceding it than to perhaps the Sixth itself. For good clarity of line and texture, something can be said for such an approach, but here taking it with just barely adequate light and resonance to infuse both. Some stretches of especially the two outer movements of this symphony perhaps only made it one or two cuts above the pedantry of taking it more commonly the brass-driven bombastic way – such as presented at one of two local conservatories here in Houston fairly recently.

Some brightness for crest of opening theme, ritronelli thereof remained, but Brahms Second derived waltz step to first movement’s second theme needed more lift to clearly raise it above what might comet across flat-line. Reflective cast, coming off this and in attempting to find the right mystery with which to open the Development were good, making it perceptible that Belohlavek might be thinking back to example of Karel Ancerl, but as though curiously mixed in with something approaching a purist bent to it all.

Trumpets and horns brightly exuding fervor near end of the first movement, then after much lingering over both bringing it to a quiet conclusion, they framed opening of the second movement well. Pace for the ongoing Adagio, without being fast, flowed well onward – again after a quite broadly paced first movement. Complementing the overall open-air feel, the light perspective through which dialogue between violins and winds emerged here was refreshing. There are no slow movements in the Dvorak symphonies more beautiful than in both this and the D Minor Seventh Symphony that in fact may mysteriously complement each other in several ways. Exchange of sighs between violins and winds abetted filling all out, while keeping texture warm and light.

Mild sectioning off of oboe duet simple cadential lines came across slightly stodgy as did slightly strict reining in of the brief agitated minor key episode. Easing up from this, making supple re-transition back though was very fine, while introspectively picking up good wistful air to infuse this place. DSO Berlin cellos openly then sang forth this movement’s opening theme - little to encumber the magic of once more encountering this music, its innate pastoral intimacy. Repetitive figure through following Furaint got supplied little lift from internal voicing within, making utter joyousness of this mildly reserved – forthright, but somewhat pedantically so. Extra compensating during yielding line from the violins, while expressive, seemed just that. Extra lift, filling out of main Furiant idea provided good oomph to close out outer sections of this – until slightly pushing much final coda to this scherzo. Piccolo emerged a bit high ad dry during Trio for it waiting past dry, slightly flaccid opening to it to develop fine expressivity.

Streamlined feel for the finale’s opening lines, toward keeping textures supple – DSO winds answering with same idea more characterfully, as also with fine spark they provided this finale’s dance like second theme. For fugato, extension of it both, stiffness from DSO string section prevailed, along with some strain at getting accenting right. Wistful episode of arabesque and yielding quality of re-transition off forthrightly, stiffly realized restatement of opening theme in D Minor provided relief. Achievement of festive ritronelli, recapitulating them, became more assured. Coda to the finale sounded quasi-academic in excessive pointing of accents, then also stodgy in so much leaning on final restatement of opening theme, abetting the impression that Belohlavek may not have fully convinced himself that perhaps this music can speak a little better for itself.

All carping aside, this was a sufficiently characterized, decently played Dvorak Sixth, if hardly at all near a definitive one. Some thinning of the ranks, especially among DSO Berlin strings, injuriously so, has indeed become apparent – issue over which Ingo Metzmacher brought to an end his position with this ensemble. The diffuse acoustics of the Philharmoie do not obscure well what does not quite curry favor within how things get performed there. For how things got played here, Jiri Belohlavek should still be welcome back for at least occasional guest appearances again.

BBC Proms 2010: Prom 58. Czech Philharmonic Orchestra, John Eliot Gardiner. Lars Vogt. Royal Albert Hall. 29.08.10

There are qualities John Eliot Gardiner contributes to twelve-year running relationship, friendship with the Czech Philharmonic, especially for repertoire on which he is most respected and, evident here, flickers of insight for much else. However, there is at least as much for him to learn from working with an orchestra with so long a fruitful tradition as this one. His reminiscence of the late Charles Mackerras - fine protege of Vaclav Talich - helping Gardiner to ‘driving lesson’ through several Janacek operas was moving - picked up right before airing of brief tone poem Ballad of Blanik. Its very charming simplicity, lack of pretense got represented very well here - with wistful waltz-like step anticipating well the rotating sway that opened middle movement of the Martinu on this program. Gardiner picked up well upon this piece’s doleful, lightly wistful accents to hint at both Kat’a Kabanova and Vixen.

This marked first chance in numerous years to hear the Czech Philharmonic at the Proms – orchestra having worked under eclectic line-up of musical leadership since the retirement of Vaclav Neumann and fall of the Iron Curtain. Carnival Overture of Dvorak brilliantly opened the program. Much orchestral filigree - downside of tradition, according to Mahler, slovenliness - was well pointed here, but eventually seemed to get itself detached from the soil in which it was planted. There is nothing worse, for instance in American culture, than faking in overworked, plastic a manner any indigenous culture - whether in shopping districts or at theme parks – entire absence of genuine feel for being in the real locale oppressive. Gardiner's approach to Dvorak did not glaringly remind of such experience, but it intermittently did come to mind.

Czech PO strings sounded thin, coming off high B, winding down to warmly played wistful episode. Coming off such genuine affection was much expected quickly gathering steam toward recapturing the vitality of Carnival’s opening – with still much overt fuss over detail. The nocturnal middle section – limned by fine concertmaster solo - had warmth, albeit held back by self-conscious adherence to tempo. G Minor opening to the Development section sounded fractious, tempo unyielding – enough to significantly inhibit the character of the writing. All got projected, but without harmonic shifts being able to fully speak. Such eventually joyous buildup of agitation - so pointed by high piccolo trills should there be any doubt – was just that. Joy expressed here though became brash instead – from pushed engagement of energetic reprise of overture’s opening through unidiomatic punched accenting to close it.

So spoke then elusively the Martinu Sixth Symphony, 'Fantasies Symphoniques.', in its unconventional layout of three tone pictures. These pictures abstractly reflect mental states, visions, seizing upon what lay deep inside the composer in writing this music - in place of anything concrete. Given sloppy intonation on Dvorak, Gardiner’s fastidious care over intonation here came unexpected. Martinu’s genius just partly reveals itself in building a veritable kaleidoscope out of mere handful of musical motifs; the very ephemeral quality of thematic material based upon such is striking. For composer rooted in neo-classicism, Gardiner thereby offered a fresh perspective - that is of deceptively halfway making this music appear classical. This however is late-period Martinu – like daunting Fourth Piano Concerto Belohlavek so effectively conducted at the 2007 Proms.

Gardiner clarified well the modernism of this piece. Such perhaps may have blind-sided him toward not quite fully being able to get at the indigenous core of this composition and harmonic underpinnings coursing through such toward helping define its shape. A particular dryness blocking inculcation into this music of a grasp of where overtones are, for sake of clarity, purity, essentially kept John Eliot Gardiner from finding friendliest turf here. Immediately the self-conscious scrupulizing to spin-out of also later recurring episode in quasi-microtonal language to first preface the opening movement was misguided. Out of so much inchoate is the germ or seed from which diatonic spelling develops full expression later on. Capture harmonically of a B natural, dissonant under slowly undulating broken D Minor triad on flute was shallow, making then transition to first episode of the first 'fantasy' insufficiently disruptive - its introductory sharply dotted motif marking the music being jerked back to central tonality of B-Flat jarring - with then descant in thirds ascending, swiveling about by semitones.

Strong pointing of less broken dotted rhythms then replaced their forerunners developing a dance-like pulsation, thus making overstated a 'second-theme' diatonic spelled confident refrain. It was evident here the earnest quest for attempting to delve out classical proportions to music that in its mindset leaves such vague. Motion according to parallel tritone through some of the second episode, of structural importance here, got understated, making fugato therein and repeated note chatter to introduce the third episode excessively busy in quality, whereas it is in such harmony that is the foundation to support and then even offset at once all activity in motion about. Least dignified was the string section almost literally screaming repeated pitches above sonorities neither so thick nor loud it should have been necessary; such lapse fortunately though hardly ever occurred again. After slightly stiff support for lingering concertmaster solo in alt, Gardiner effectively then brought the first movement to a restful close.

Gardiner minded separating out different overlapping strands of activity to begin the quasi-scherzo middle movement. Implied harmonic underpinning to duet of arpeggios in clarinets a semitone apart was weak, coming off much busy marking of figuration. In contrast with Ancerl when refrain within overriding line to all this was reached, Gardiner worked its obbligato in second violins, making fractious what can be shaped in more supple manner; lower brass under too emphatically played arpeggio tremoli in the strings likewise felt cheated here. Stark, abrupt contrasts to get the middle section underway could have stood out more, but from there on out, through the lighter, mysteriously interjected textures of the strange middle section of this 'scherzo', Gardiner caught more flexibly the natural rhythms, life of this music. Gardiner then managed to effortlessly make ample room for momentarily militaristic growing accents in the brass.

Gardiner then made overt contrasting strands of anguished rhetoric to eloquently begin the third fantasy. Arioso in violins threading into a sway of curve-like motion through violin, wind sextuplets had fine profile, but also evinced tentative mastery of rubato. Color for harmonic shifts subtly taking place underneath through first episode last spelling of the wave-like chromatic motif unifying the entire piece was undercut by limited space for line through this to issue forth. Very impressive was the engagement of much polytonal swirling about in agitato second episode to follow - pastoral third episode then evocatively providing brief respite.

The quasi-militaristic character of the notably agitated penultimate episode got overtly thrust forth - alternate valid option being the appraisal of such menace as hardly more than just passing or ephemeral. Even here is sense of reality on the ground as hardly substantially more than what will veritably inhabit dreams, visions - to compare with what reality exists for the hereafter. So much activity happens in such small space, that this music in all its mixing things up of tonality and bright color can appear crowded, hectic; it is then perhaps best within well planted indigenous roots this music, its rhetoric can emerge with ample space and clarity. Bohuslav Martinu sought how he could complete finding stronger individual language, persona and simultaneously have such validly reflect and make use of what current advances he could inculcate.

Matthew Crump lightly mentioned in his invaluable survey of Martinu symphonies the Webern inspired integral serialism of Boulez and Stockhausen, having been cutting edge during the 1950’s. Martinu successfully completed finding his own place and relevance for what should long survive him - reckoning too the beautiful simplicity his Memorial to Lidice so simply achieved. Credit is still due a spirited John Eliot Gardiner in succeeding here well at arousing new interest in this music.

The notably non-Czech Grieg Piano Concerto, played by Lars Vogt, got off with mildly uncertain calibration between soloist and forces right behind him – until Vogt’s gracious shaping of lyrical statement of the first theme. Dotted scherzo rhythms to interact between orchestra and soloist was spirited here, if not quite matching between both. Shaping, lovely ardor for second theme, with fine rubato in bassoon obbligato, emerged in full; fantasia like opening to the Development section between Vogt and Czech wind principals likewise became poetic. Past some fussiness orchestrally right before and after, things gradually took on being much more of one piece, yet with Vogt sounding self-conscious during even the challenging first movement cadenza in attempting to somewhat emulate frequently affected pointing in the orchestral playing.

Vogt’s display of technique was encouraging toward all going better thenceforth. Fine rhapsodic shape and feeling was made of the evocative Adagio, albeit with sharp pointing here and there self-conscious from Vogt yet again, as along with riskily pushed opening to the Recapitulation, perhaps guessing at what Gardiner would most likely be seeking. Abetted by very fine principal horn, both Vogt and Gardiner took in very well, evocatively the vista over broad landscape with which the Adagio closes.

The Czech Philharmonic’s flautist sang the rondo’s second theme with such openness for it to be entirely idiomatic to do so – as could have been learned from playing so much charming folk melody in Dvorak. The Mendelssohnian filigree with which Vogt invested his part contrasted well with vigorously, confidently articulated stomping dance that started all off. Vogt provided Chopinesque esprit for bouncing triplet variation on first theme in the coda with fine élan; triumphant reprise of the romantic second theme came off with alternatively brilliant and propulsive flourish, making for exciting conclusion to the Grieg – upon which Vogt followed up with poetically limned, half-lit account of Chopin’s posthumous C-Sharp Minor Nocturne.

Gardiner replicated what virtues and lapses characterized his way with Carnival Overture for Dvorak’s sunny Eighth Symphony. Missed for instance was the natural shape of the waltz inhabiting the third movement – quite common already a lapse outside of ‘period.’ Cellos, backed by warm horns, sang in soulful G Minor their preface to the first movement. As marked some of George Szell’s Dvorak – at least before his late-career EMI redo of the Eighth – the bustle through ritornelli and ambling, cross-accenting bridge theme received more push and shove from Gardiner than was good for him to add to the mix. Reprise in winds of cello second half to first theme, in F-sharp major during the Development, limned by light playing in the strings, was charming; much else otherwise got again too pushed for charm to sufficiently accompany, provide good intonation to infuse vitality of the playing here.

Lower strings fulsomely, prudently achieved solemn opening of the second movement - Gardiner humbly stepping aside for flutes and clarinet on their back and forth calling first theme to naturally emerge. Excessive marking made shallow rhetoric out of loud reprise of the Intro, but with Gardiner making spacious his framing of the light second theme to follow, until so garish, bright a tutti to followi its natural ambling forth. After sober leaning off this episode and preparation of following storm episode, much fuss was made out of the tempest, followed by slightly nervous rushing ahead of the second theme - all framed nicely until overuse of rhetoric for grandiose coda to deftly be dovetailed off, yet without recovering intonation lost right before.

Violins shaped their third movement waltz theme better upon lighter reprise, after stiffly negotiating the trio. Good bounce under violins from winds for coda sufficed, until excessive fuss over so much else. Cellos, after fine trumpet fanfare, handsomely shaped with rubato main theme for the finale. Principal flute, unchallenged technically, got rushed through his elaborate variation. Dry negotiation of chords to accompany dance in C Minor sounded rough-edged idiomatic here until incipiently hard-driven quality to everything again prevailed. Natural shaping of following lyrical variations spoke well; all waited to fully settle in again for haunting variation on clarinet, with string tremoli aloft - followed soon by much brashness bringing this prom - first Slavonic Dance, Opus 46 encore included – to a vigorous close.

LA Phil (NPR): Gustavo Dudamel conducts Dvorak and Tchaikovsky - both in B Minor. Alicia Weilerstein, cello. 06.05.10. Disney Hall, Los Angeles.

What logic must be behind pairing Dvorak concerto with the Tchaikovsky Sixth? For someone with, let us say, mild taste for overemphasis, here is what veers dangerously close to bathos reinforcing bathos – sinking so much underneath. I can not explain the Dudamel phenomenon, except to be remindful that man by last name of Abreu assembled la sistema in Venezuela, not Dudamel. Dudamel is felicitously poster boy as program’s first international success. Coming from very humble origins arises so much.

One certain way to deny music its power and eloquence is to deny it its form. The Dvorak Cello Concerto opened, with Alicia Weilerstein, equal partner in crime as soloist. Something of thus very modest results, albeit with very sufficient theatricality to help us pretend we had something, came about. As for any marking that has ‘poco’ in it , Dudamel usually interprets that for anything to be marked even for just isolated measure or two, must mean shyness on the part of the composer about asking for more, to add more, or even to start earlier than where he might have indicated. Whenever it might help Dudamel’s own expressive purposes, it might even be possible to do just the opposite of what the composer indicates in the score. It sure seemed too, with highly vernacular deconstructionism at play, that here was Dudamel’s (newest) attempt overall to reveal how sliced bread, or chain of broken sub-phrases can be discovered anew.

Lower winds started the Dvorak in lumbering manner - with long distraught ritardando a good four measures before marked - for eventually what turned out good horn entrance. Weilerstein, upon first entering, made triple stop chords so pushed and thick to right away resemble her playing quarter, quintuple stops instead – with immediately flaccidly apoplectic response from concertato of winds. Louder statements from full orchestra, while working so much else so hard, registered consistently anti-climactic. Repeat chain of appoggiatura to strongly mark line for soloist before first entering with second theme was all also ironically too light. Dudamel however then tried to prove expressivity about timpani upbeats in the following ritrornello – at expense to line.

Long, mostly unmarked ritardando framed new contest entry by Weilerstein - as how to make often expressive G-sharp minor entrance for the Development most slathered over yet. An obvious hard jerk forward, one among many, next had to be healthy for getting things going again. Ending with loud half-scrape up octaves run into the Recapitulation was a series of accelerandi, each successive one less subtle, more exciting than the one before, none of which written in by Dvorak. For all this, the Recapitulation upon arrival seemed quite cruelly anti-climactic. For about a minute or two, we somehow got a breather from all the spelling out of so much to us. Things eventually continued to proceed in as broad-brush, but half-ironically simultaneously fragmented way as earlier.

Dudamel made palpable good restful atmosphere to open the slow movement, but all as getting too distended. Hard docking to open the middle section did little to assist belying an overall lack of subtlety. Violin section arpeggi, admittedly light even in numbers, over continuing cello line, sounded very wispy - lame at supporting anything. Underlining of halfway lost principal bassoon to accompany misshapen line from Weilerstein turned out most curious. Concertato of horns reintroducing outer section to the Adagio almost ran out of breath, with Dudamel paying special attention to marking timpani upbeats correctly. All was beginning to individually develop a life of its own, as though we might be getting here post-Lutoslawski Venetian Games, Cello Concerto Dvorak instead of just Dvorak. Usual place for brief conspicuous speed up in note values, then additionally instructed, went by hardly noticeably at all; Dudamel and Weilerstein probably just surmised it most safe to simply get through it.

Push and shove proved again rule of thumb, rule of flail, for starting the finale - high dance step octave F-sharps in violins getting icked so that woodwinds in same pitch interplay with the violins did not get any real say at all in the mix. Weilerstein eschewed finding stable tempo for opening the rondo, resulting in her missing accents, and compensating for such lack, making good fast flailed sa-shay through following lines. Next entrance in double-stops then got heavily worked, as expected. Principal clarinet made so much massage out of the usually completely gentle, yielding second theme; Weilerstein then settled for educated guess to negotiate rapid triplet or sextuplet arpeggi coming off this and then loud halfway pitchless scrape up run into ritornello to follow.

Concertmaster solo over accompanying cello began with real spirit, but Dvorak would have scratched out his molto rit. and accents descending off high B had he encountered such clearly evident context here. Loud, highly extended docking, respectively settled for what we should find climactic for framing brass chorale and long held F-sharp (contest now as to who can hold it the longest) for Weilerstein, for Los Angeles Philharmonic next to flail away for finish line at last. At end of the broadcast, Dudamel was described as standing for his bows within ranks of the Philharmonic, as to represent himself as merely one among colleagues on stage. Could have so many interpretative decisions about the Dvorak occurred by committee? Could not have Dvorak lived to take orchestration from Stockhausen or Bernd Alois Zimmermann? Could not such insight have enhanced his writing then, you think? I am reminded of Proms commentary last summer introducing Dialoge by Zimmermann - i.e. how so many instrumentalists, including two pianists, got assorted into all randomly chosen groups to freely interact.

Blow the dust off them old warhorses! There once came occasion for Ilan Volkov to join Heinrich Schiff on the Dvorak. Without needing props from anybody, he conducted the Dvorak with as much poetry, quality of detail, supple line at age of thirty-one as I have heard anybody do it. Both soloist and conductor left at the door all usual mannerism and fuss that so non-poetically can clog the alternately dancing and rhapsodizing lines of this music. Here was loudly announced attempt to blow all the dust off the Dvorak, but ultimately a harder layer of grime and crud accumulated, caked over it instead.

Not a terribly slow, but quite extensively diffuse, prolix account of the Tchaikovsky Sixth Symphony followed – that ultimately sounded tiring, even for players of the Philharmonic. Giulini recorded this with them not so terribly long ago. First period of the stormy Development section broke apart into at least half a dozen sub-phrases. Following this was re-entry of first theme, played in about three different articulations; most interesting was the heavily slurred one, such as probably got copied off a recording– useless to try guessing at or knowing which one. Musing brass chorale over still, quietly rumbling basses all went matter-of-fact, replied to by Tinkerbelle flourish in the winds. Quasi-mexican serenade of sorts was made out of the great Theme 2, followed by marking of just about every sub-phrase for winds that could be found over stasis of marching chords in strings underneath Connecting line to all this then became completely lost. Syrupy muzak out of rushing line in violins toward reprise consequent of Theme 2 and jerking-back-of-personal-frame-on-podium marking of timpani upbeats beneath nobly restrained closing clarinet solo was all most expressive indeed.

Second movement five-four waltz began unsure of where to place either accents or hips on the podium for it. Winds, when given the tune, never throughout the course of this achieved meaningful shape to it. Accompaniment to flourishing string line responding to winds thereby was shaky all at once in numerous ways. Equally fey was extra piquant touch to the polonaise-infused dotted rhythm ends of phrases and eyelid drooping back-phrase in making it from trio section back into main waltz. Trio section fared better. Two note sequential, stepwise sub-phrases starting the coda got individually packaged care as individual phrases all on their own instead of components to one connecting line.

As for the scherzo-march, slower than usual, slightly more energy than affordable got spent on working what ultimately resulted in shaky ensemble for triplets in the strings to open this. Clipping of wind parts reminded one well of name of hall where this concert took place. Dudamel dug into multiple stop cadences in his strings with tremendous force. The march, at constantly slightly distended tempo, also received quite a work-out. It did not especially flatter the acoustic of the still relatively new Disney Hall – across street from the Chandler - to make hollow space for first five note repeating timpani in the coda, yet Dudamel did just that. Conclusion carried forth with brilliant flourish.

The tragic finale was not terribly slow so much as devoid of real shape. Dudamel, from perhaps several recordings he has listened to, knows where to push or rush the line through two climactic long arches therein, but missed internal placement of accents within the line, even clipping a few notes along the way, making caricature of it all. There was the practically usually blowsy muzak typical of often mediocre interpretation of the opening divisi-built tune to the finale; enhancing such more than one could ask or want, a little salsa thrown in for flavor. Hardly any connected line was achieved at all.
Brass sostenuto was quite good for their chorale intoned final say, but it, toward good mimic of understatement, suffered from the shaving off of several note values of their full worth; any coursing line through it and rests, got entirely lost. Entirety of coda following the brass chorale got worked hard; so no last drop of passion with which Dudamel must infuse it could be missed. Does not the name Carlos Paita ever come up, as of late?

With so much work Dudamel picks up, getting rushed-coached through so many scores by Abbado, Rattle, Barenboim does not replace hard work on one’s own and time for reflection needed to become an at all significant interpreter. Here is someone who has come a very long way; it is not for me to demean what enthusiasm Dudamel brings to the plate each time he steps up. Not forgetting horn, other fine wind principals, the best musician on stage for this was none other than principal bassoon Shawn Mouser, who let slip out a fully convincing shape to long descending line one third the way through the finale. Give him a fifty percent pay raise right away.