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.

DSO Berlin (06.12.2009) - Return of Tugan Sokhiev for scintillating Tchaikovsky 5. Johannes Moser, cello (Dvorak).

December return by Tugan Sokhiev to DSO Berlin tells altogether a different story than did previous visit – all Russian program – of Sokhiev’s work with this orchestra.

This was the fourth DSO broadcast within seven months of a cello concerto, as conducted by second to third tier men – Hanno Lintu, Hans Graf, and as previously, Sokhiev. Lintu and Sokhiev, Isserlis and Mork divided the two Shostakovich between themselves respectively - Mork one of two most successful out of four. The other, as just conducted by Sokhiev, is Johannes Moser. DSO principal Grunkorn on the Barber turned out fine as well, but especially compromised by having had to make concessions to a weak podium.

Before the Dvorak, we had Alexander Borodin’s ‘In the Steppes of Central Asia’ - first time I recall seeing this fine morsel programmed in quite some time. In its exotic charm, simplicity, it seldom makes itself unwelcome. It also has its subtleties to trip up anyone unsuspecting as to excessively understate the case for it - or try to make too much of one. Sokhiev, depending in part on very fine wind principals of DSO Berlin, achieved fine, expressive results. In shaping soulful English horn solo, when handed over to the strings, Sokhiev’s affection for this piece was clear. What may strengthen his next go at it is to anticipate downbeats less, rely less on doing so to be expressive. His ear for balances was still good here, plus his feel for atmosphere, apart from slightly heavy underlining and occasional soggy attacks from the brass.

Equally atmospheric was the brooding opening to the Dvorak concerto on clarinets. Some bearing down on the horns, making way into first orchestral tutti did not necessarily augur well for the rest of this, but fortunately only proved momentary lapse. Getting absolute clarity with downbeats still proves an issue with Sokhiev; the good news is that it may not be crippling his efforts so much anymore, it seems, for instance accompanied less by so much bearing down - as true several seasons ago. His considerable slowing down for second theme in the horn could have stalled matters, but both the artistry of DSO Berlin principal horn and of Sokhiev encouraging warm understatement of the case made doing so fine. He then provided fine lift for polka step raptly anticipating solo entrance.

Johannes Moser made controlled entrance of notable dignity, warmth, reserve, nobility, unfazed by double-stops and other technical challenges in the part that encumber many second-tier down cellists right away, attempting this. Pointing of woodwind concertato underneath was crisp, attentive – without any stiffness as found for similar writing in the Barber last week. Second theme sounded forth equally as genuine as from horn player in the orchestral exposition - then spinning forth into sextuplets with flute obbligato with fine aplomb. And then for sake of making slightly heavy rhetoric out of gestures on part of about all, closing section before ritornello and Development, for just about minute taken came across episodic.

Sokhiev recovered poise just about two lines into ritornello; starting with rapt, broadly paced musing that Moser gets to re-enter with, all proceeded through the Development with fine simplicity. Sokhiev made crackling transition, led by trumpet, then flutes and Moser together, into ending well the first movement.

Only momentarily self-conscious accenting, and disallowing violins enough foreground over brass (not playing too loudly) for opening of its middle section hampered a lovely, atmospheric handling of the second movement. Moser’s gently broad, arched, singing line, and Sokhiev’s sensitive accompaniment all related matters well, alongside fine concertato of DSO winds. All sentiment was unabashed, but very seldom ‘worked.’ Feeling of heartbreak at end, as the music on its own spells out nobly in sublime manner, came across entirely genuine.

The finale, with its internal contrasts between, within sections came off best. Wei Lu, in descant to Moser during long, extended final section to this rondo finale sounded curiously slightly placed back, but played his part fluently, expressively well. Crisper downbeat to dance accents near the start of this, from Sokhiev, might have been better though. Without being to the Bohemian folk manner born, he perhaps can still come closer to definitive in conducting this music with crisper accent for the more animated tutti frequently occurring in Dvorak. One could hear most of the impetus for this already present. Vigorous stringendo with which he invested starting the finale made the case.

Spiccato, fluent work on fingerboard, confidence to make animated flourish out of much of this, together with sensitive interaction with wind principals of DSO Berlin and Wei Lu made complete what Moser brought to this. It was still moreover confidently the very noble sentiment and line and rich tone one will most likely recall of Moser's playing the Dvorak. Cheers and mostly well achieved encore of Bach’s first sarabande (G Major) for unaccompanied cello were both richly deserved A dove-tailing of two lines in first half of the Bach was self-conscious; once past halfway, Moser made introspectively enraptured supple, focused, noble line out of all the rest. May we hear much more of Moser and thus pick up how Moser will most likely be able to take his playing from here.

If it was not for what risk-taking occurred during Sokhiev’s interpretation of the Tchaikovsky Fifth Symphony, mostly delivered well, I might have quickly deduced that what he brought here to Berlin was hardly more than case of ‘specialty of the house.’ Witness however the steeply arched, bombastic affect that Gergiev endowed this piece on a much hyped Vienna Philharmonic release of the same some years back. Little of this seems to have rubbed off on his student here; it also hardly sounds as though I write of same person conducting this as I did on Russian repertoire before.

A fine imaginative, attentive sense of narrative coursed throughout so very familiar terrain. When there might arrive mild understatement of at times overly emphatic internal tempo instructions on the composer’s part, it was always with long view of the whole picture in mind - deftly stated as such. No definitive interpretation of this piece surfaces yet, but Sokhiev here is still only thirty-three. Aim of being headed at least somewhat in the right direction certainly seems unmistakable.

A few miscalculations, mistakes occasionally belied someone experienced being on the podium, but the youthful spirit with which he engaged this music, for instance the fine swagger he gave the opening of the finale and coda restatement spoke very highly of how he had prepared us so well earlier for what would transpire. Lithe feel for the third movement, with open rustle of fresh breeze throughout its trio section and beautifully, subtly calibrated figuration from there into return of main section all sounded very fresh..

It was clear from the first few minutes of this Tchaikovsky Fifth – I can happily report - we were not embarking on approach to something of fate-obsessed, metaphysical aspirations, such as one will pick up in one way from Bernstein (DGG) and more achieved on surface, brilliantly, 1970’s Karajan - or as odd hybrid between - Eschenbach (Ondine). If so, as from someone with Sokhiev’s limited experience, there would be a much different review to read. Sokhiev gave us a Tchaikovsky Fifth in what impact it might have had, intimating cross between 1960’s Karajan and Mravinsky, without achieving as confident security of the former or interpretative depth capable of the latter

Sokhiev’s simple doleful handling of first movement introduction, with his extending out of (dotted) half notes in fate motto for clarinets, with it barely perceptible his doing so immediately revealed sense of aspiration for some aesthetic finesse with this music. No less was it so with the long breathed wistful sigh he made out of opening of both exposition and recapitulation from both strings with lithe accompanying winds, and then dourly introspective bassoon respectively. It is only perhaps on the surface that what resembled a miscalculation was a marked early slow down for final chain of restatements of opening subject as such to close the first movement. Transitions otherwise were effortlessly achieved. Youthful impetuosity with a few moments, such as bridge transitions each time to second theme unexaggeratedly emerged fresh.

Beautiful too was the weighted introduction to the Andante - that Sokhiev made emphatically slow (but pulsated with intent of keeping the line alive). This then remained an Andante - as something to have organically emerged out of how the first movement ends. If one sought bombastic rhetoric at key nodal points here, one looked in vain. More primary on Sokhiev’s mind was how to always sustain a continual sense of narrative throughout this, even past fleeting doubt of his handling of one or two transitions therein. A slight phrasing from behind of clarinet seemed overt, starting middle section to all this; such concern also only proved fleeting. Lines for solo horn were long-breathed, but with Sokhiev requesting a Slavic inspired affectation of Gallic formed embouchure in playing horn for sake of desirable color, regardless what risk.

A certainly rapid-fire approach to much of the finale brilliantly closed the concert, but while similar in pace to Mravinsky or Gergiev, eschewing excessive bombast of the latter. Heavily accented start to the Exposition for amassed strings alone came across portentous. The shove into rapid brass re-statement in C Major of ‘fate’ was risky, for how transition into the Development realistically should work. Without any derailing or threat of such, all proceeded organically from what had opened up here.

The opening of the finale, eschewing grandiosity, certainly something just to stand on its own as so much rhetoric Sokhiev revealed being interpretively mature to realize, lest one prefer much empty hectoring instead. Sokhiev instead proceeded with fine swagger, such as with stepping out for a brisk walk on morning of bright sunlight over remaining frost on the ground. Sokhiev in the coda subtly pointed out dark chromatic progression in undergirding brass to violins’ unison ‘fate’ motif in E Major to bring us full circle from whence things started.. Brilliant, closing flourish to all this came across most refreshing.

My only trepidation about writing in as such is that of too much a push this still fledgling career receives today. This is first time apparent to me there is indeed a real gift here not only for orchestral, but more so for operatic work. The repertoire is vast, challenges, temptations great, such as have already tripped up greater men than, at thirty-three, Sokhiev. He stepped in for Mehta in Seoul for Haydn 104 and Brahms 4 (for his VPO debut?) last fall. There are subtleties with Brahms 4 that must still confound eager youth - youth nothing to disparage. More than immediate success, one can best wish Mr. Sokhiev much prudence in planning what may result in rewarding career ahead for him.

DSO Berlin: Hans Graf conducts Barber and Schubert - Andreas Grunkorn, cello. Is it real, Graf, or click-track?

In 1988, the Houston Symphony brought Michael Gielen for a very special honoring of the eightieth birthday of the now still living 101 year old Elliott Carter, pairing his 1961 Piano Concerto (Ursula Oppens) with the Schubert Ninth Symphony. It was Christoph Eschenbach’s first season - Eschenbach who almost exactly three years later conducted Schubert Ninth in much fussier manner than did Gielen, with less formal clarity, balances and execution than Gielen had spiritedly, unobtrusively achieved here. Late 1980’s was just about time Ingo Metzmacher finished apprenticing in Frankfurt under Gielen.

The Houston Symphony has never since sounded better than on the occasion of Gielen’s only visit here. I can not recall them again sounding as good as they did on the bright, crisp late November Sunday he was here – even for once to deny that there is anything to be concealed by the bone-dry acoustics of Jones Hall. It was this good.

[February 21st, 2010: I forgot to note while first posting this that Ferenc Fricsay planned to conduct the Schubert Ninth Symphony in Houston at Music Hall, circa November, 1954, but he then changed second half of the program to Schubert Eighth 'Unfinished' and Beethoven's Leonore Overture #3].

Last Sunday DSO Berlin hosted Houston’s current music director for a program of Samuel Barber and Schubert. Whereas in subtle, internalized ways Carter and Schubert share some affinities for progressivism, they are, by conjecture, more externally similar in terms of their openly deep introspection and slight tendency to bombast.

DSO principal Andreas Grunkorn was soloist for the Barber Cello Concerto, proving supple with the technically difficult part - even more importantly giving this music clear direction and line. There lacked perhaps the last degree of character or personality to his interpretation of the Barber. Whatever inhibition encountered, the blame for it certainly can hardly at all be laid at his feet alone. Hans Graf maintained a deferential accompanying stance to Grunkorn- with coloristic pointing of filigree in woodwind tremolo at several points. The music in the hands of both Grunkorn and Graf managed to reservedly hold up a semblance of - as Virgil Thomson made reference - ‘Brahms-like grandeur’, but in playing out so much, some other elements went missing.

It is odd to report here that Graf’s relatively inflexible approach to the Barber – inability to adequately pick up numerous contrasting elements within - was more something to keenly listen for than it was for the Schubert. The jazzy syncopation, blues bend muted trumpets in the Barber perhaps were apt to be toned down; here it was frequently to extent of all being perfectly staid – even if Barber’s inculcation of some elements in this fine score is stylized. Other than ability to gain a pleasantly supple, if still flaccid ease to handling of such passages in regular meter (as first movement statement of opening theme), this was so. Graf overtly relied upon trumpets, brass for securing downbeats during the first movement a little much.

Key change from cellos and basses, while uncharacteristically playing flat the main siciliana of the second movement, got compromised. Expressively memorable alone was Grunkorn’s eloquent take on brief sequencing of upward arpeggios, midway through - more shape to them than for principal orchestral line above - and then for expansive unaccompanied transition toward close to the Andante moderato. Such fine rhetoric followed brief sequence of trills from the winds conspicuously detached from statement of the main idea.

Graf opened the finale stiffly, leading Grunkorn at first, for sake of coherence to abet opening idea coming across as more ‘academic’, poor man’s Hindemith, than snazzy as it should be. Graf, even for simpler wind concertato stretto, fell into habit of marking time, effect constricting space for Grunkorn to be able to flexibly spin his virtuoso figuration off such stretto. Run up through high register following perilous double stops also got inhibited at the end of the first movement. Some of the writing in this concerto even resembles quite often the soulful rhythmic jauntiness of Medea (ballet) written for Martha Graham at near the same time.

Marking of downbeat to accompanying bluesy second theme in the finale was stilted too, inhibiting what imagination the soloist might invest into it. More important perhaps that the soloist not get in the way of Graf’s ability to keep all well organized, regardless the cost of his having to engage within tight spaces some very tricky cross-rhythms. Grunkorn handled closing virtuoso fireworks with aplomb, even through perilous writing in high register. Where earlier Grunkorn could make some lyricism stand out, he still most certainly did. Graf slipped in managing to well co-ordinate with Grunkon’s line beneath the solo high trumpet stretto descant driving argument forward to the end.

Less eloquent case was made for the Schubert Ninth Symphony that followed. On the plus side, this Schubert Ninth carried some rhythmic vitality through most pacing of it, but mostly which got applied from without instead of found within. Contrasting formal periods, paragraphs of this music got sectionalized to extent of becoming unnaturally compartmentalized from each other. Such was Graf’s insistence on strict downbeats for cause of keeping ensemble together, regardless the cost.

Fully less imaginative among examples of music appreciation instruction came to mind, for all the heavy stress on so much pedantry. For example, so paramount is how well something functions at following ‘textbook sonata form’ that the entire purpose of the music having been conceived in real style of form would get lost. Or what is most de rigeur about music becomes so pedantically explained that all interest in the music itself then is lost. One sensed DSO Berlin getting what to those most in the know is a ‘Norton scores’ approach to the Schubert Ninth. For two years now they have so brilliantly produced in front of them complex beat patterns, securely backed by clear explanation of purpose in getting across with much simplicity so much frequently at stake.

The stentorian reply within oboe solo continuation of the main theme, in motto leading the introduction, was all played at monotonously stilted fortissimo from the brass. Repeated notes, two-three-four, in brass should really be, it seems, equal in weight and as loud as the main theme. Transition into main Allegro of the first movement, while maintaining equilibrium, sounded careful, stiff, with only tentative shape to crescendo to transpire, build excitement through it to follow. Opening theme of the Allegro Schubert need not have marked that the dotted quarters get more weight than alternating eighth notes, that is until he might have had chance to hear Graf at it.. Graf’s making all equal in weight made the dotted quarters sound clipped, even while abstinent from doing ‘period’ Schubert.

Little was made of transition to follow; textures began to clot in the antiphonal stringing out of what follows. Though yielding into a more promising start to the recapitulation was welcome, things returned to continuing down a stiffly predictable path the rest of the way out, with monotony and intermittently less than optimum clarity of ensemble between strings and woodwinds.

The second movement fared little better. Though perfectly moderate marcia pacing of this was apt, accompanying dotted rhythms stood out so pronounced as to jalmost verge on caricature of Wanderer motif to it all. Tutti response to main theme, from the get-go, was stiff, lacking sufficiently varied weight and color. Middle section transpired matter-of-fact each time - even more so true in recapitulating it (while applying detached subito piu mosso - 'suddenly faster' to it) to extent that while still moderately paced, line coursing through it just about entirely died.

Graf reckoned it prudent to render entirely missing contrast between pairs of loud octaves - eventually making for hard-hitting trudge through closing measures of the second movement. Where Graf attempted luftpausen for such through closing passages of this, he denied especially his brass and lower strings space for reaching well below some of the true resonance from which Schubert built unique harmonies and placement thereof. Expressive shaping only occurred where most obvious, such as for extended cellos’ retransition off rigidly engaged dissonant climax two-thirds through. Hatchet-y attacks from strings on heavy chords throughout became consistently unidiomatic.

Just bare minimum in shaping the scherzo’s second theme was reckoned practically sufficient, though with DSO violins infusing such with almost right lift, light step to it. Even through wonderful harmonic changes in the Development, figuration in the strings continued unvaryingly and brass excessively stuck out. The songful trio section lacked shape, coming off brass and winds’ tuning up on chain of repeated octave E’s to get things started reasonably in tune. Graf over-emphatically underlined the brief C Major episode occurring past midway through the Trio.

The finale began stolidly. Strings of DSO Berlin sounded stressed at all valiant effort to remain together on rapidly moving triplet figuration. The music took such a pause before second theme, fortunately with some lift to it, that it seemed to happen as to make some pause to catch a breath. Graf streamlined paraphrase of Ode to Joy while making considerable strain to scrupulize keeping dotted rhythms beneath together. Right before this, intriguing highly chromatic slow emphatic sequence of chord change in lower brass was played so note by note as to have missed what point there is to it at all - quite the same as happened between heavy octave chords in the second movement. Especially the violins of DSO Berlin however had to have then surmised seeing the end to all this in sight. They suddenly became much more cohesive, pliant making with all effort and aplomb something cumulative out of closing a moderate paced, but still heavily belabored Schubert Ninth. So much emphasis on principal trumpet occurred, to keep things aligned well, one might fully expect Graf to put fine principal trumpet of DSO Berlin on front stand with concertmaster Wei Lu next time Graf should return and it be relevant to have it so.

I was only able to catch two closing paragraphs to Schubert’s Overture in D Major, D. 12, written when Franz was fifteen - showing a determined precocity, even in experimenting with form more than he could make effective yet.. Such precocity is further evident by, following opening D Minor intro, chord progression for opening of its Exposition section aping that for first movement of Mozart’s Prague Symphony. The over-scoring of so much, that had to came across wonky in this outing by DSO Berlin, revealed Schubert, individualism of his writing already apparent, his attempt to compose sonata form well beyond yet attained level of maturity. Such is also true with stubborn holding onto the tonic throughout Exposition of both overtures in D Major he wrote at the time (D. 26 the other) - then to recapitulate each second subject in A Major, before each time jerking us quickly back to the tonic just in time to rescue all formal logic.

One may reckon me disloyal, being from where I am, in being so hard on Graf; in my defense, after what Metzmacher has achieved with DSO Berlin, it would be demeaning to them to be writing in otherwise. In Graf’s defense, he has in Houston applied at times some intellectual acumen to his craft, his having come from tradition of sorts; as such he has so casually, even often at times both here and abroad put such aside. It could be he feels inhibited, working with different class of musicians than he is accustomed in southeast Texas – or that he got cold feet and decided that best way to proceed was ‘safety first’; the music here just called for so much more than that.

There was sloppily more kink to Eschenbach’s 1991 Schubert Ninth, but more color, contrast, more drama; it too put one at considerable strain to sit through it. Graf conducted Schubert Ninth here for first in pair of two weekends with which he made his Houston Symphony debut in March of 2000 – in program paired with John Adams’s Century Rolls with Manny Ax. Carmina Burana (Orff), paired with Mozart 'Prague' went the distance toward making Graf music director to succeed Eschenbach. Some of Charles Ward’s comments about the first concert I have just have found after writing so much above, are very interesting. Recall that Adams’s concerto then got programmed with the Schubert brought up that perhaps Graf had in mind even last weekend a way to find a new chic modernity in taking on Schubert - for it to have turned out sounding so two-dimensional as dud this one. It is, after all, music for players and audience respectively that “probably literally, they can play and hear in their sleep.” Yes, Graf’s Schubert Ninth put underneath one’s pillow, ought to work well – if kept at low volume.

Ward (Houston Chronicle) found the HSO Schubert “lithe, flexible, and transparent” for a piece that – in somewhat a moment of anti-Eschenbach rhetoric here (to reflect sentiment in some quarters at the time as is common for anyone taking leave of such hallowed ground) “does not invite grand or grandiose ‘statements’ of conductorial and orchestral achievement.” Oh, how I would love to be a bird on the rafters of the Philharmonie when Ingo gets back into town, and then (let’s say) tells DSO, “Let’s get together next season, guys, and do Schubert Ninth”- for reaction he might receive. The opening horn solo to Charles Ward was so interesting, being just there for Graf to announce “that the piece was commencing.” Yes, exactly. A ‘Norton scores’ Schubert Ninth would precisely say so.

I heard some of the Graf 2000 Schubert Ninth and can not adequately remember it, but for now can not help but quote passage in full, on Graf’s conducting of the Adams.

“Had the performance been up to standards, the listener might have found some humor in [the Adams) as well. As it was, the orchestra seemed to be struggling with the piece's rhythmic foundation. It was still foreign to too many players Monday (third time). Century Rolls needs players to have a sense of rhythm similar to a "click track," that metrical tick-tock a conductor has in his ear to keep an orchestra aligned with a film in live performance. Beats and divisions of beats have to be precise; they can't bend or be even microscopically off.” How good for the Barber if they could have ‘bent.’

Could have Hans Graf returned to re-read the above, when contemplating how to take on the Schubert afresh lately? Though a bit erratically aligned at times, I could indeed sense a click track to the Schubert this go at it. More punishing than what you read here might have been had Deutschland Radio repeated, as broadcast encore, American in Paris conducted by Metzmacher. I was reminded of hearing this last fall by someone medical here yesterday confiding to me that he had just attended Graf conducting equally familiar Gershwin here.