DR Kultur: RSO Berlin, Marek Janowski. Emanuel Ax almost single-handedly saves all-Brahms engagement. Philharmonie. 04.06.10.

Marek Janowski's past season with RSO Berlin has been truly something conservative - a complete cycle of the Beethoven nine, a series of mostly 19th, early 20th century music by French composers and two, likely several all-Brahms programs. What competition there is around, one expects more effort, care for Brahms than encountered here.

Janowski felt on relatively safe ground with Tragic Overture. Without taking anything to (quasi-)'period' extent, Janowski started things off conscientious about clear separations between its opening jagged textures and stark dotted rhythms, but too jerky, detached of the latter. Spinning out of first theme became too loose - indefinite for winds attempting to carry line forward. Janowski did best here with supple, ardent handling of overture's second theme, both times it appeared (as to open later the reverse recapitulation). Janowski caught well the apprehensive calm of preceding bridge section – aptly dark but mildly damp brass on abbreviated chorale this little section frames.

Janowski took cortege starting the slower (extended retransition) Development too light, glib through its woodwind led lines; what solemnity remained came across ironic, half-baked. Perhaps worse was heavily cliched back-phrase from violins playing at nearly double pianissimo, where only marked pianissimo, so that pianissimo marked brass became incapable of underpinning much of anything at all, then resulting in their brief, sonorous transition into warmly opening reverse recapitulation getting devalued or undercut. Spongy attack on first theme group octave descent jumping dotted rhythms segued into increasing stodginess the rest of the way, from which then the music never again recovered. Clumsily played luft-pausen occurring soon before the end helped characterize the rest. Granted, bigger names have made a mess of Tragic Overture, obscuring its form - sense of progressive turn too this music takes lost, regarding its abundant stark figuration and rhythms upon which it is built.

One assumed Janowski perhaps could have taken his ease toward letting much of the Opus 16 A Major Serenade play itself. Nevertheless, the two orchestral serenades have their subtle traps. Partly for not watching it, partly for being distracted by less important matters, Janowski fell often unsubtly right in. I recall the New York Philharmonic, perhaps very least desirable of any leading big name orchestra to play this music, Riccardo Muti a few years ago lovingly led through the longer D Major Serenade, as though no measure therein can be taken for granted - regardless how easily it reads to the eye. The whole thing just glowed under balm of sun-drenched Mediterranean color, infusing the amore with which Muti compelled the Philharmonic to respond.

Good lift was provided winds for downward lilting series of triplets to lyrically begin the opening Allegro moderato. Due to insufficient attention overall, repeat of first theme turned flaccid, losing just about all shape. Jerky pointing of alternating voicing and offbeat chords through the Development quickly turned wonky, right preceding brief violas’ maudlin attempt to stabilize the line. With same slovenliness, soggy accents helped drag down the coda to an adequate, but unpromising first movement. Following scherzo went worse - Vivace taken a stodgy Moderato, tense on its accenting, thus draining it of much animation. Trio led by C clarinets and bassoons comfortably fared better, but reprise of scherzo, with mildly more obvious strict adherence to tempo fazed Janowski equally as much. Hemiola (partitioning off in two beats in place of marked three) stretto jumping octaves comically slipped from being coordination with all the rest.

Equally an Allegretto to the Scherzo, the following Adagio non troppo also proved discouraging. Apart from workmanlike handled scherzo, it might have seemed more normally paced. In lilting 12/8, quarter notes seemed slightly too short and eighths slightly lengthened - out of such seemed fear of being unable to keep line secure through all this otherwise. Section of obviously gentle repose in flatted lower major key proved reliable anchor for restoring ease to musical matters here; return of the Adagio at least gave illusion of proceeding in more restful mode than how it first appeared.

How the intermezzo 'quasi minuetto' – almost prefiguring several late Brahms piano pieces - could have gone more flat-line, drab, missing shift of color to bright major submediant (F Sharp Major) for being already in wistfully cheerful major key, is an enigma. Reprise of F-sharp major parenthesis even entered almost a full half beat early - after practically etude dull regrouping style reading of the intermezzo’s trio section.

Rondo-finale opened regrouped, lightly clipped - as to hint at street accent for its caccia style frolic. Brief turn to minore for winds became soggy, with jerkily half-confused string section interjections to mark off the woodwinds’ simple, candidly retiring lines. Second theme proceeded texturally light, but rhythmically not - of which Janowski made more flexible shape upon its reprise. Attempt to make ardent lean on cello descending line played non rubato risibly proved off-tether. Forced esprit was made of much of what remained, with heavily marked trudging of open intervals in the lower strings and wheezing RSO woodwinds, all to goal of little more than dull thud to conclude it all.

Principal French horn of RSO Berlin waited to recover until later than his opening solo lines to recover from case of soggy timbre; Emanuel Ax began his part with clear sense of expectation if then less than entirely optimum accenting of his extended lines to begin the Second Piano Concerto. Janowski started orchestral exposition forthright, but with accenting still more out of place and sense of routine to spelling out of its argument. Somehow from this Emanuel Ax mysteriously very fluently played his solo exposition opening flourish, entirely free of grand-standing – still sounding detached from what had preceded him. Ax, continuing phase of heroic stance seemed to almost entirely guide the course of events in this performance as playing, judiciously so, essentially an obbligato part – albeit not quite Clifford Curzon at this; who is? Searching quality of fantasy persisted with Ax, looking past phlegmatic orchestral impetus – with stiff accenting on violas too insistent underneath more interesting idea on horns to push anticipation of next episode. Accent pointing between RSO Berlin woodwinds and Ax became momentarily too incisive.

Phlegmatic transition from Janowski into more agitated closing section to the Exposition could have sunk a much lesser soloist, not to mention the flat-line stiffly coordinated support that persisted, denying soloist any kind of firm springboard off which to play such difficult figuration. Ax blithely sailed through it, conscientious of orchestral part, but again as though not encumbered at all. Better perhaps this setting than up against a self-styled deconstructionist take on the orchestral part as Horacio Gutierrez (who repeated considerably better the same concerto with Litton in Dallas weeks later) encountered in Houston long ago under Eschenbach. Ax just almost alone guaranteed sufficient lightness for B Minor scherzo like section of the Development, then limning fine re-entry of principal idea in the horns with great ease. Light orchestral filigree early on in the recapitulation failed to remain together with Ax; dull RSO Berlin winds then entirely undercut Ax’s negotiation of difficult octave jumping trills at end of section, all preceding sturm und drang approaching these having been denied all line. One should not think ‘support’ to describe orchestra’s role in type of concerto Brahms wrote four times. Janowski’s leadership was even insufficient at that.

Clunky accenting from Janowski confusingly undercut light jumping octave pointing of line toward making sufficient peroration to first movement almost sustained alone by Ax, oxymoronic as it sounds. Ax, who it seems could never get lost in dull thicket he had run across here, I mention as funny quip here, was found to entirely miss a big quiet, unencumbered celesta tremolo entrance in finale to Mahler Symphony No. 6 with Eschenbach (to follow Prokofiev First Concerto) here approximately twenty years ago. Sitting in Jones Hall, I was unaware of what exactly had happened - the entire incidence almost completely inexplicable for remainder of performance to ensue.

Janowski for opening idea for the D Minor intermezzo-scherzo waited until past trio section of this to find any shape therein. Mysterious, highly taxing interlude for rapidly shifting octaves, other intervals in Ax’s part again coasted by entirely fluent - so unsupported to have come off almost completely flat-line orchestral preparation thereof. String section’s hatchet-y accenting of opening of the Trio section made it sound something down home (near-) Deep South. Ax fluently contrasted tone of wistful inquiry with well couched open passionate outburst where called upon, as though again oblivious of so much in the way. As much as the orchestral part should intrude, buttress the soloist, ability to find such input more than half the time was difficult.

Principal cello of RSO Berlin, finding more thorough poise for later reprise, followed Janowski closely in allowing sag to his lines and then intonation thereof. Opening lines to the Andante then ended with waltz-y back-phrase before bassoons and strings, followed by oboe, began to better enhance the pastoral mood. All then dragged to such an extent, it was all Ax could do to keep line alive - to change marked ritardando into a subito poco piu mosso. He continued rhapsodically, wistfully, through middle section in which Janowski hardly found any definition at all. Quiet re-transition into brief recapitulation and then poetically achieved slow ascending chords from Ax closed parenthesis, framed an ending to, against meager effort toward making Brahms’s orchestral impetus to the easier Andante happen.

All was adequately light and piquant for the finale, but with queasy hint of Biedermeier to it all orchestrally for not more forthrightly taking it on. Ax continued with fine deft aplomb, wit, fervor, and ephemeral passionate outburst or two pianistically – with savor for this music’s incidental zingarese schmaltz - lust, shall we say as well. Ax even at one point very remarkably replaced Gypsy orchestrally, i.e. crude accenting, with ‘gypsy’, as though halfway deaf to what the orchestra had just played, but ninety-nine point five percent sure just intent, lightly so, to set things right. Right afterwards Ax with great ease tripped through opening bars to the Coda – tepid, flaccid underpinning from RSO Berlin no curb or restraint on him whatsoever.

One could only remark at end of the day on the valiant, practically heroic effort on part of Emanuel Ax – what valuable at all had emerged from this go at Johannes Brahms. Given such circumstances, but most of all his highly developed intimate knowledge of this piece, I do not recall better from Ax, though certainly good before, than this. It was as though he had walked into the Philharmonie with in his mind’s ear what much better orchestral playing to which he played his difficult obbligato part a previous time. His disc, to earnestly seek after, with Haitink in Boston (Sony) could remain some reference.

BBC: Philharmonia/Salonen. Brahms/Berlioz program astutely highlighting diverging tendencies of Romanticism. Sergei Khachatryan. 10.6.10. RFH, London.

Esa-Pekka Salonen sounded engaged in interview to show us a new way of hearing Berlioz – and also to halfway fool us about how he might go about it. His very relaxed confident air in speaking so, after having spent too many years in Los Angeles, augurs well. What I have picked up from Salonen here and there over the past several years have seemed phlegmatic, reticent – not lacking in integrity so much as just simply not having much life. From hearing this, there certainly could be afoot better days ahead. Salonen made evident with docile classical frame to Symphonie fantastique a way rhetorically speaking, of sticking out a bloody thumb or gouged finger at just most opportune moment to make doing so very disquieting.

This was indeed a very good concert; Salonen, having emerged long ago from Jorma Panula’s class at Sibeius Academy, is certainly an eclectic in his musical tastes, interpretative tendencies. There is the romantic here, in terms of his concept of sonorities, but also ear for iconoclasm in how he handles or manipulates form in music and in his enthusiasm for new music - in being an estimable composer himself. For Mozart, Beethoven, Haydn, there is definitely a nod toward ‘period’, that with how flexibly Salonen applies it, if not most specifically, usually makes for sound, sometimes vital interpretations of music from this world also.

In pairing works by masters distinct from each other as Hector Berlioz and Johannes Brahms, Salonen found subtle means toward making this concert a convincing whole. The classical frame, already partly addressed with the Berlioz, how it applies to music made for an overriding theme. In the context of the rhapsodically broad tempo Salonen helped give the first movement of the Brahms concerto, there was occasionally tendency to press hard forward – without jerking tempo forward as to become completely different or caricature of itself. Press forward would happen at several moments of vigorous orchestral ritornello, as to demarcate varied formal divisions therein. Within the frame, there was a thoroughly worked out internal dialogue between soloist and orchestra, also most intimately individual members thereof making much coherent out of both orchestral and soloist narrative throughout.

With the Berlioz, one had the classical frame posited as something archaic as opposed to just elegant, charmante, garden variety this way, out of which would emerge not the striving to stabilize boundaries as with Brahms, but striving instead to entirely break free of them. It is for instance in worship of the ancient world, there are still traces of conservatism in Berlioz - to balance out here with there being very quiet radical tendencies as way of looking forward in Brahms.

Young violinist Sergei Khachatryan and Salonen took opening movement of the Brahms Violin Concerto very broadly.. Both sustained interest and line through it very well - with greater imagination the orchestral protagonist in this than as led recently by either Janowski or Vanska. Gracefully, Khachatryan with slightly sticky tone and articulation had to remind one somewhat of Oistrakh and his light fast-paced vibrato, with especially sweet tone above the staff Menuhin also occasionally.. His playing is still such that there is room to mature, to having the greater phrasing accuracy of an Oistrakh, more inner quality of a Menuhin, but he has already come a long way toward especially finding an individual voice of his own. Very few technical challenges of playing the Brahms fazed Khachatryan here – music for which he displayed very confident reach, idiomatically so.

Salonen assisted in seeking out, finding much internal dialogue here, synthesizing some of the classical polarity that can often strictly define formal properties in Brahms.. There is at times some tendency to meander with line at hand, but the subtle and most often highly supple interlocking of lines, voice leading between sections, orchestral soloists was such to enhance an overall picture or aura of intimate musing between soloist and members of the Philharmonia. None of this got taken to excess, more than of mildly self-attentive variety. Detachment between such intimate musing and more sturm und drang passages of the opening movement threatened to make itself obvious, but managed to stop at a line, lest concept of form get betrayed halfway. A heroic surge coursed through the orchestral ritornelli in this in what was re-creation of as much personal character to the Brahms as is its form.

Internally achieved was also the caprice with which Khachatryan infused his part. It played part in a more blended but still further individualized take on what is often the classically polarized obbligato that, on the surface of things, every Brahms concerto solo part is. Equally relaxed and at ease with it all was the schmaltz with which Salonen goaded the second theme and accompaniment thereof.

The second movement opened out less encumbered for the pastoral mood of its entirety, at good moderate tempo. No drooping over ends of phrases occurred here, as mentioned before of Marek Janowski and principal oboist of RSO Berlin. Echoing flute and horn, contrasting placing between each, helped make highly poetic Khachatryan’s opening solo. The tone for this simple idyll was most reassuring – but in view of ‘Scene aux champs’ to come, in the same key, ironic. As can be deduced that outer sections of the slow movement make then inner frame to something else, Khachatryan led the middle section to this movement with supple, deeply felt passionate introspection. The luminous interweaving of lines between strings and winds, arising from less complexity than during the first movement was still something in which to absorb one’s self.

Salonen and Khachatryan threw not quite all but much inhibition aside for a hearty, robust, rollicking rondo-finale, making broadly heavily rustic its Hungarian, Haydn-esque, and most energetically its caccia, hunting call accents. One during the coda picked up foretaste of hounds of hell, figuratively speaking, for finale to the Berlioz. Khachatryan slurred well last two notes of his ascending dotted rhythm octaves of a second theme - juxtaposed with most free playing of light arpeggi and even more rapid-fire awkwardly placed runs. Juxtaposition of alternating episodes inspired most alternately energetic and light interplay between soloist and orchestra, all as though inspired by Haydn.

All internal, external classical precepts got well observed, but as if to sit there as hollow frame to flights of imagination through which Berlioz would take us. The thoroughly worked out transformation of the idée fixe in its numerous guises became front and center. Pierre Boulez, doing this piece, was known for taking what is still reckoned an academically, musically teleological approach. Salonen, without being quite this level of musical intellect, has taken here as much a dramatic approach as one just musically or academically forward looking. Imagine the enveloping taken off just about everything in this piece, almost as though tree stripped of much of its bark. This all proved at first irritating, but ultimately necessary for what disquieting vision infuses this music.

This was by no means a ‘period’ performance of Symphonie fantastique, but one that took on meta-textual characteristics at times – almost to extent to adopt new term for certain things occurring therein – meta-period. One thinks on such conventional terms of romantic ideals here and utopian bliss tied in with how we expect so very much of the musical rhetoric therein to be heavily couched. However, even in the early-to-mid nineteenth century, there is a flip side here - a tendency to what is savage and barbaric. Of Salonen’s way with Symphonie fantastique, without kinking anything or making any cheap cliche, Max Ernst’s The Robing of the Bride comes to mind, but against backdrop of quasi-Nordic barren landscape. What bliss, ephemeral joy, hysteria Berlioz’s music expresses, he makes obvious for those people who do not shy away from the dark side of things...Nobody interpreting this music has obligation to put listener at ease, albeit Salonen spoke of being mindful to maintain a minimum of constraints of good taste for sake of the music’s ability to speak, without which it can not have shocking effect. This delicate balance Salonen observed with fine expertise.

Even though polite to open and bring to close the first movement very serenely, there was so much the unrest it expresses in-between. The long extended oboe entrance for the coda Salonen almost completely held back from lingering over to make what we can now construe is more cosseting than full delineation of suspensions and appoggiatura in string obbligati. Timpani durjng climactic cirque transformation of idée fixe almost took on a life, acoustically at least, of its own, that there is on the surface great elation momentarily, but underneath absurdly the most primitive drives compelling all forward. Salonen drove the Exposition statement of idée fixe hard, with incisively pointed caccia accents to robustly syncopated accompaniment underneath – such as also got intimated in episodes of the two remaining, very contrasting odd-numbered movements to follow.

Most coolly docile was Salonen’s handling of galante manner in Berlioz’s writing, such as to open ‘Un Bal’ - at once a paragon of charm while empty shell to the rest. He gradually worked up this movement into a paroxysm of dizzying energy, color, and hysteria by its close, and after only very briefly getting covered up by the strings, full engagement of cornet obbligato to point of doubling so many lines emerged, as also piccolos in hysterical fashion their arpeggios at cadence right to prepare final clarinet reminiscence of idée fixe. Oboe limned very gently longing reminiscence of the same earlier, over darkly rumbling lower strings.

Salonen eschewed making sublime the opening of ‘Scene aux champs’, leaving calls between English horn and distant oboe to speak for themselves, with at first barely audible tremolo from the strings underneath to produce sense of void underneath. First theme in unison violins still had unencumbered its noble shape and profile, but with loud upbeats to groups of three repeated notes in strings underneath. Reaches for long held notes in low double bass and lower winds, brass, much as it did in ’Reveries, Passions’ earlier, served at once its purpose both as voice leading and invocation of menace. The diffuse acoustics of Royal Festival Hall abetted in Scene aux champs painting a picture taken up with so vast space for in which all to take place.

Salonen at one point unabashedly allowed top violins to shriek broken diminished chord trailing off from brass fortissimo climax. He made equally dissonant however simpler climax of cadence on the tonic up high, by emphasizing Berlioz’s third doubling therein in as harshly lit a manner conscionable. It was as though for Salonen to rhetorically confirm what he had said earlier about his adherence to German harmonic, structural logic having prejudiced him for so long in taking on Berlioz as anything worthy to be doing, for I suspect shorter number of years than he let on. Salonen without too exaggerated a slow tempo fully capitalized upon the extended timpani responses to unanswered English horn calls, their timing and at what illusion of distance at which they should be heard gauged with again superb expertise. One was left not so much in awe of any great display of technique as of great emptiness of space surrounding it all.

Rolling timpani throughout March au supplice almost stole the show, but as to make the march to the gallows relentless, even more terrifying than arrival there. Fractious writing in dotted rhythms was equally incisive and implacable. Without ever for purpose of putting it on display, the harmonizing of great variety of muted brass accents was just about equally grim - such that would persist through following witches’ Sabbath.. The acoustic setting up of space, making it sound as in encounter of the unknown how and from where things might enter to open the finale was also disquieting. There were certainly loud climaxes in final two movements of this ‘fantastique’ - loudness thereof no crutch on which Salonen relied upon in the least (though mildly compromised by Royal Festival Hall acoustics).

Simple, moderately shallow church bells introduced ‘Dies Irae’ on old world muted brass as answered by from mid to back placed witches’ ride caprice from the winds, as though to float out in space. Salonen then pushed hard the fugato, as to have it carried out in almost stifled accents to be broken by sharp, disjunct interjections occurring along its way. Fractious stormy antiphonal interplay was caught so well to bring all to a riveting conclusion – using tactics similar to those of Igor Markevitch at producing it.

Though including a halfway rousing Mahler Sixth and probably equally fine Gurrelieder, a recent Vienna City of Dreams (fin de siecle Vienna) series came across as halfway faceless or bland. In its own bizarreness, the meta-period tendencies Salonen employed, with setting up much convention bound docile framing of things - worked toward opening up much greater chasm as such. Nothing should be safe with this music, any Berlioz; at last here, it most certainly was not.