BBC Proms 2010: Prom 34. Triumphant adieu to DSO Berlin for Ingo Metzmacher at Proms. Leonidas Kavakos. 10.08.10.

Certainly hallmark from Ingo Metzmacher lately has been his interpretation of the Mahler Seventh Symphony. Here we could hear it again from very different sonic perspective than from the very warmly reverberant Muiskverein Wien last spring. Differences between the two, suitably accommodating both halls, were subtle. Metzmacher too it seems, can sometimes be the least of anybody satisfied with his own results. With music so well-nigh perfect as the Seventh, perfection in how to approach it is and will always remain slightly elusive; there is the finale deemed so problematic – often inexcusably taken for granted. Metzmacher achieved still greater refinement with the Seventh in London – some of it taken slightly quicker than before.

It was a natural last March to capitalize upon the Musikverein’s warm acoustics as did DSO Berlin. Here one picked up Mahler from a more linear perspective. With how the Mahler played in Vienna, there was same goal in mind. In making overt the darker undercurrents in the Seventh, as more overtly, less subtly happened in Vienna, Metzmacher’s interpretation still distinguished itself from that of Michael Gielen. Whether heard in Freiburg, Berlin or L.A. Gielen’s interpretation ranks prominent to many Mahlerians. Placing music on the first half of this program of sunnier quality, greater kaleidoscopic variety than the Hartmann Kavakos played in Vienna also may have contributed to what subtle transformations occurred here for the Mahler.

Heard from London was drier, more stringent string section engagement of their grizzly sonorities, edge to figuration to start the first movement - together with still distraught tenor horn solo. Perception of being out over deep waters still registered, even if provided warmer resonance in which to wallow last March. Rhythmic markings in Vienna to begin the Exposition were more forthright, but very well marked here too. Noticeable improvement in London over Vienna was also most supple handling of the second theme, still with slight slow-down, yield into it, but played here on purpose as though to float a little more above harmonic underpinnings beneath - and with improved rubato now, to run Gielen very close. Arched leaps for high dissonances in the violins became more acerbic, making slight jerk back into main tempo more sharply characterized.

Metzmacher handled awkward transitions working their way into pastoral episode less emphatically - with inner lines better helping carry all forward. Spacing was slightly more distinct for the pastoral episode, approached again reticently, but with Wei Lu making starker contrast of his solo midway through it here. The ‘Sehr breit’ reprise of the second theme, so undercut by others by making too much retard on the second theme earlier, here in the cavernous space of Albert Hall floated more aloft in the violins, above ultimately better marked sonorities (seemingly) farther beneath. Metzmacher then handled remaining transition into the Recapitulation, avoiding better the trap with violins entering high to respond to extended brass cadence - that never achieves recovery of main tempo quickly enough – more distinctively now, with terracing of jagged fanfare stretto into the Recapitulation now more acutely realized – where ‘Leidenschaftlich’ indeed is marked. Neurotic current carried through inner voices toward making sharply coherent all upcoming awkward transitions, through finally very supple handling of recapitulation of the second theme, and searing, well marked sinister, (mock-) heroic ending to now a most fully realized first movement.

Sinister accents opening first Nachtmusik got less underlined toward subtler building of more suggestive feel for what may lurk beneath – and with less arched buildup toward long, freely rapid descending scale into horns here most warmly intoning principal march theme for this movement. First episode, characterization of what underpins it quite pungent before, was more subtly flowing over all that goes ’bump’ underneath. Feel for empty space all about with horn calls heard as from afar achieved better simplicity this time. Very stark pointing of trills in lower woodwinds was indicative, flagship for more lightly achieved, more flowing elfin feeling for the entire serenade – at surface.

Less of early unmarked slowdown was made of firm bass clarinet underlined segue into spectral, plaintive Wunderhorn second trio section. Klezmer feel for continuing march and forthrightly affirmative, very stridently woodwinds’ decorated reprise of the main march idea here helped confidently traverse all of the rest. More spectral and widely spaced was the brief episode answering klezmer cortege announced on light violin and harp tremolo on high B natural and then later on final concertato of winds spinning all off. All contrasts here got as incisively marked as before, where what fuss did occur was great fun; all became subtler, thus still more sinister in London.

At surface, with drier resonance, ‘Schattenhaft’ may have overtly spooked less here than in Vienna, but through this and the second and warmer Nachtmusik was at last what just got mostly achieved before. What must have impressed Schoenberg, even including the finale - carrying same trait forward - was the great achievement of linear counterpoint on Mahler’s part, where you have so many lines course through both clear texture, implicit overtones as though all free of harmonic moorings underneath. The art of making art out of the finale to the Seventh lies precisely therein. Icy shiver through the Scherzo contrasted then so well with wafting breezes through Nachtmusik II, the latter in reply to drowsy malaise on snatch of Traumerei as captured by Wei Lu, with no effort to underline anything. If anything, the Scherzo here brought with it a greater lingering effect on the psyche – as not quite fully been able to come to grips with which one has been struck until little stretch afterwards; stronger underpinning before of erratic rhythms produced oddball the more visceral effect.

Guitar and mandolin, with piquant irony, answered equally so by winds, tuned and strummed away disingenuously unaware of better places to land harmonically than Mahler has them. Singing ardor for Schumann-esque trio was still most supple, within pace slightly breezier for Nachtmusik II than before. Caught most ideally was the slight shudder, inhalations right at its conclusion – answered by long ardent exhaling line in low register clarinet – all as out of ‘Ich atmet einen Linden duft.’ There was even perhaps hint of Gallic feel – i.e. the extra airiness of texture for the cello/horn led middle section and contrast of pointed acrid winds therein - for Nachtmusik II’s neo-classicism that made so elaborate such fully infiltrated detachment and linear freedom here.

Rondo-finale merrily jostled forth, this Seventh again at slightly quicker clip than when played in Vienna. Now both Gielen and Metzmacher have made the argument that this rondo is no way inferior to other Mahler. It is just in being able to hear all of it that this is so. Hubbub, some blur thereof emerged in full relief, but with practically all voices, harmonic spellings, however awkward or eccentric, speaking through it all. Half ironic framing of chorale entrances by brass, calliope effects, operetta references and other parody resounded forth in full relief, with many lines running through it all - to be as sophisticated at play as informs the rondo-burleske in the Ninth Symphony.

First-movement caravan episode - less overt a shudder to it in London than in Vienna – became eerier for sensation of all interweaving lines through all preceding it arriving at such an encounter. For as notably revelatory a Seventh this was, the interconnected feel overall without any smoothing out was most unique. Remarkable was the greater sense
of play, frivolity with it here, with pointing of humor therein at one point – high and dry solo flute making widely spaced cadence to match Gielen – but truly risible now added a most besotted slurp of portamento up from violins during final ‘operetta’ episode. Lightly inebriated pointing within the brass right before ‘the caravan’ episode also caught one unawares. Most grotesque of all was this being Metzmacher’s final concert as in charge of DSO Berlin. There’s now one more story to tell from this rowdy finale bringing all to a close more than Mahler might yet have reckoned.

Drier acoustic of the more reticent Royal Albert Hall made delicate to more fleshed out Mahlerian and Schrekerian textures sound forth from DSO Berlin - as more illuminated from within - than at Musikverein or Kurhaus (Wiesbaden). Metzmacher made his debut conducting opera with Der Ferne Klang in 1988 (Brussels); it may have helped as well to conduct the Nachtstuck here, in wake of recent Zurich run with the complete opera – employing lyric voices for Fritz and Grete. It is hard to grasp how this music can achieve at once the most aesthetically true and pleasing results - as such avoiding trap of acoustical hedonism to which Michael Gielen has made reference.

Some greater repose at this music’s surface got achieved here, prevailed better than at Wiesbaden. Wafting sense of reverie through much arabesque, development thereof and interplay with repeat and development of the piece’s opening cortege motif for got provided better relief here. Such made jagged, sudden shifts and turns, for remote tonal centers, in such a way to intrude upon the psyche, more unsettling, disturbing this time internally or subconsciously – as most likely intended. Logic of what decisive turns occur then would lodge in memory as immersed in illogic – as even opportunity to reflect upon the character of the turns that take place in the opera’s narrative. Such notion reflects discourse less along lines of traditional morality and logic than along such to reflect varied mental states. Rationale for my calling Schreker impressionist may be loosely corroborated with Alan Lessem’s comments in his book on Schoenberg music and text (UMI Rsch Press 1973, pp. 71-72) on recurrent timbres reflecting new sensations, even perhaps a new spirituality - moreover suspending tonality - being that out of which is built formal cohesion, independent of motivic or thematic content.

The trick in interpreting the music of Schreker (and of Korngold) is being able to separate out emphasis on such sonorities, truly novel relationships between them from cliché, to which Schreker’s music can still easily succumb. The oxymoron is that in making too harsh or jagged or a clash where sonorities intersect or interlock will inadvertently lead one’s ear to naturally, devoid of any concept of spirituality, rely on its more suave harmonies, cadences, where Schreker allows a certain element of cliché – situation made worse by so much music since cheaply derivative of what have become very time-worn devices or crutches one finds therein. This latest take on Nachtstuck, following strong guidelines instead, made one at last yearn to hear more.

Oasis between tumult of the Schreker and Mahler here was the Violin Concerto of Eric Korngold, written post-war well after the traumatic (initial) phase of expressionism, even as persisted between world wars, was over. Most characteristic here was, within precisely tuned shaping thereof, strong emphasis on both the modernism and angularity of solo lines on part of Leonidas Kavakos. Such playing, without layering on any extra sentimentality, let in more probing air of nostalgia than is clichéd norm. Kavakos handled very masterfully the negotiation of runs in melodically awkward figuration, even through the double-stopping and then free swagger with which the ‘concerto’ finale come across. Kavakos and Metzmacher made well varied between them the numerous repeats of swaggering first theme of the finale animatedly with vigor. Kavakos’s spinning off arpeggios, decorated by so many dissonant or off-chord chord exotic intervals from main idea, was spectacular.

Most distinctive was the echt-Vienniese ardor with which so many elaborately rhapsodic lines were filled, from initial reach through wide span for eventual major seventh to help open the first movement. All got achieved by other means than infusion of artificial sweetener to bring out the ache in the sound, even an intermittent harshness of tone. One can achieve even a bitter taste with such nostalgia – here the sense of world lost far beyond what can ever be recovered, personal loss felt as well for home as it was before exile, without tastelessly going about it. Kavakos and Ingo Metzmacher both proved this as impetus for the lavish care they bestowed upon Korngold’s music here.

This concerto has so frequently become star vehicle for generous technical display – with orchestral accompaniment, so often reckoned pointlessly ornate, elaborate. Metzmacher proved ‘gold standard’ in picking up the Hollywood cliché, especially in the finale, with its ‘cowboy’ swagger - especially when reaching the horns - glittering strings above - in grand style on big sky, ‘big country’ theme that sends all the music wide-screen for good moment or two. Such was followed by fine drop-off highlighted by half-harmonics limned consequent by Kavakos, to riveting effect. Interplay between low trilling clarinet generated light obbligato in high winds to wide dissonant interval figuration in Kavakos’s part scintillated halfway through first section of the opening Moderato. Change from austerely realized long held trilled C-sharp following elaborate cadenza, to very bright clearing of the air for D Major opening to Recapitulation was acute – in part for backing off from softening up change occurring there.

The Andante opened atmospheric, toward preparing sweetly sung entrance by Kavakos. Quite pointillist, widely varied figuration limned exotically colored E Major ‘nocturne’ - coming off somber pause midway through, having all take on a neurotic tinge or edge underneath. Follow-through thereof of flighty alternation of caprice and deep yearning from Kavakos remained forefront. He then achieved over shimmer in vibraphone elegaically restful reprise of the main theme – to develop into making exotic, drug-induced his closing lines. All at high level of simplicity got cosseted by evocative spelling of so much from DSO Berlin forces right behind, making things seem all ready for the Mahler – yet with ‘cowboy’ rondo ahead instead.

http://thedavidsoperaworldblog.blogspot.com/2010/06/orf-dso-berlin-musikverein-mahler-7.html

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.