Beethoven, Ligeti, Bartok:
Peter Serkin,
Piano, New York Philharmonic, Jonathan Nott, Conductor,
Avery Fisher Hall, New York City, 26.10.2006 (BH)
Beethoven:
Overture to
König
Stephan (King
Stephen),
Op. 117 (1811)
Ligeti:
Lontano, for Large Orchestra (1967)
Bartók:
Piano Concerto No. 1, BB 91 (1926)
Beethoven:
Symphony No. 5 in C minor, Op. 67 (1804-08)
It
is a bit hard to believe that the invigorating Beethoven
König
Stephan
Overture had not been performed here since 1980, particularly
since every last work of the composer seems to be recycled
every year without any loss of audience interest.
(I say this as a fan of the composer, but also as one
who regrets the many unusual and worthy pieces that fall
by the wayside in favor of yet more Beethoven.)
That said, the overture was given a vigorous, splash-of-cold-water
reading by Jonathan Nott, fast rising as one of the world’s
most intriguing conductors. Nott’s programming instincts
are sometimes almost giddy in their daring but precise
in their juxtapositions (such as his memorable Beethoven,
Ligeti, Mahler and Strauss extravaganza with the Bamberg
Symphony last year). Beethoven’s huge sound blocks
seemed to anticipate the Ligeti, written some 156 years
later.
By
now many think that Lontano is one of the 20th
century’s masterpieces, along with Atmosphères,
written about the same time. Both approach the idea
of music in a completely new way, and just as the revolutionary
aspects of Beethoven must have shocked his listeners,
the extreme ideas in Lontano still have the power
to disturb and perplex. Yet with Nott as the best
possible guide, encountering Ligeti’s seething textures
felt as natural as entering a room, albeit a space in
which the proportions are subtly distorted and continuing
to evolve, thanks to slow-moving shifts of timbre and
pitch. The orchestration is radical for its time.
A favorite texture has the contrabassoon at one end of
the spectrum, simultaneously with the concertmaster in
a high harmonic, with nary another sound in between.
The Philharmonic generated some unearthly plates of sound,
subtly turning and shifting, ardently following Nott,
who has a clear-sighted ability to get to the heart of
Ligeti’s physical sound world. (He has recorded
two superb discs of composer’s work on Teldec, with the
Berlin Philharmonic.)
After
being surprised at the scarce performances of the Beethoven,
I am even more shocked that one could have been a New
York Philharmonic subscriber for twenty-four years, and
never have heard the Bartók First Piano Concerto, last
performed by the Philharmonic in 1982 (with Daniel Barenboim
and Zubin Mehta). At this point all three of Bartók’s
concertos are acknowledged to be among the most well-wrought
for the instrument, and I am a particular devotee of this
one, arguably the most difficult. The piano is treated
in a relentlessly percussive way, with wild barrages sometimes
unable to reach above the equally dense orchestral passages.
On paper, I was absolutely delighted to find out that
the soloist was Peter Serkin, but at least on this occasion,
he seemed slightly at odds with the material. The
opening seemed far too timid, not nearly as ominous as
it must be, and often I felt the volume was simply too
soft for this ritual nightmare. Now and then Nott
would turn around, urging on his soloist, but the body
language between them telegraphed that something wasn’t
quite right, and the performance did not have the barbaric
authority that it must. The orchestra sounded terrific,
if also slightly hesitant, and at some points I could
see Mr. Serkin with his fingers in a quintessential blur
of hammering (which the piece is), but his sound was sometimes
overwhelmed.
It
happened a bit serendipitously, but I had the great pleasure
of hearing the Beethoven Fifth Symphony with a friend
who had never heard the piece in live performance.
(I highly recommend this procedure for works that have
become stale from overexposure.) But “overexposure” would
have been the last word on my mind after hearing this
muscular, pinging reading of arguably the most famous
piece in the literature, with the Philharmonic playing
with the kind of zeal usually accorded to Mahler these
days. The stormy, propulsive first movement led
to a second on the brisk side, with gorgeous work by the
group’s flute, clarinet and bassoon in the middle interlude.
The final two sections were taken very fast – the finale
so infectious that one could have danced to it.
Nott’s affability with contemporary scores informs his
classics with invigorating surprises, and as in the opening
overture, it was easy to imagine that one was hearing
the Fifth for the first time – no easy task these days.
Bruce Hodges
