Seen and Heard International
Concert Review
Bamberg Symphony in New York (II):
Pierre-Laurent Aimard, Piano, Stiftung Bamberger Symphoniker –
Bayerische Staatsphilharmonie, Jonathan Nott, Chief Conductor,
Avery Fisher Hall, New York City, 8 May, 2005 (BH)
Ligeti: Atmosphères (1961)
Mahler: Adagio from Symphony No. 10 (1910)
Ligeti: Etudes for Solo Piano, Nos. 7, 8, 5, 10, 11, and 13
(1985-94)
Beethoven: Piano Concerto No. 5 in E-flat major, Op. 73 ("Emperor")
(1809)
In the second of their two concerts here, Jonathan Nott and his
excellent Bamberg players offered still more Ligeti, starting
with Atmosphères, one of the great trailblazing
works of the 1960s. As with Lontano (presented on the
first of these concerts) this is music whose chief concerns are
color and texture. Movement, harmony and traditional melodic flow,
not to mention chord progression, are irrelevant. This is music
that opens a brand-new door, asking the listener to abandon many
expectations about what constitutes music. The reedy sound of
the Bamberg group was a delight, creating a cloud of ions much
different than Abbado in his recording with the Vienna Philharmonic,
or Chailly’s performances with the Concertgebouw in the
mid-1990s.
Comparable to his Mahler Todtenfeier two nights earlier,
Nott led a heartbreaking performance of the Adagio from Mahler’s
Tenth Symphony. This anguished, strikingly orchestrated
fragment is at the harmonic apex of the composer’s output,
simultaneously looking backward and far forward, and asking many
more questions than it answers. Although the completed symphony
by Deryck Cooke has many pleasures in its scrupulously informed
scholarship, in the Adagio one hears “the genuine article,”
showing the composer embarking on yet more departures from tonality
and traditional structure, and an aching, yearning quality. The
chord progressions are striking, climaxing with the huge 9-note
cluster near the end that (not coincidentally in Nott’s
head, I suspect) bore a resemblance to the Ligeti that preceded
it. The haunting opening showed off the slightly austere timbre
of the Bamberg violas, and the high registers in the violins were
piercingly intense.
After intermission, Pierre Laurent-Aimard took the stage for another
mini-recital of Ligeti’s Etudes for solo piano, and as on
Friday, seemed completely delighted to be encountering them, as
he might greet old friends. And as before, “only superhumans
need apply,” and Aimard is one of a handful of pianists
whose abilities make these endlessly fascinating studies seem
effortless. Doubting Thomases need only have heard the final one,
No. 13, Le Escalier du Diable (The Devil’s Staircase)
that quite simply had my mouth hanging open. Just watching Aimard’s
hands criss-crossing one another was an entertainment in itself.
Aimard returned to the stage with the orchestra for a thrilling
Beethoven Emperor Concerto, which only clinched my desire
to acquire his complete set of these concerti (with Nicholas Harnoncourt
and the Chamber Orchestra of Europe). As with his Fourth
on the first concert, the interplay between Aimard, Nott and the
orchestra was sheer pleasure, with the players offering vigorous
playing which Aimard often countered with gleeful grace. Of course,
there are endless ways to imagine these pieces, but I don’t
think the Emperor gets much better than this.
To close, Mr. Nott and his fine orchestra unexpectedly won the
unofficial competition for “Encore of the Year.” As
Mr. Aimard gracefully retired after the Beethoven, extra players
scurried back onstage as Nott readied himself at the podium. Launched
by a trumpet, the work was a flurry of Hungarian folk rhythms,
sounding familiar at first, but then not so. A friend turned and
silently mouthed, “Bartók?” –
which was my first guess as well, although then I thought it might
be Enescu, and later my friend suggested Kodály. The truth
floored us: more Ligeti, the final movement of his Concert
Românesc from 1951. This bracing, electrically played
bit of exotica was the startling crown of a memorably insightful
afternoon.
Bruce Hodges