Rossini, Schubert and Dvořák : New York Philharmonic, Riccardo Muti, (conductor) Avery Fisher Hall, New York City, 16.6. 2007(BH)

Rossini: Overture to Semiramide (1822)

Schubert: Symphony No. 3 in D major, D.200 (1815)

Dvořák: Symphony No. 5 in F major, Op. 76 (1875)


What a fizzy opener this Rossini is!  Riccardo Muti seemed to be enjoying himself immensely with the Overture to Semiramide, a sparkling bit of fun played to silvery perfection by the New York Philharmonic, in the second of Muti’s two concerts here.  Particularly nice was Mindy Kaufman on piccolo, an instrument for which Rossini often wrote some giddy moments, and the Philharmonic’s flute and oboe players also got well-deserved ovations.

Similar to Muti’s reading of Schubert’s Sixth Symphony with the Philharmonic a few years ago, the conductor’s sense of proportion impressed most of all.  With an orchestra roughly half the size of the Rossini, the Schubert Third offers elegance that seems ideally mated with Muti.  The genteel first movement never felt clumsy, clotted or out of balance.  The Allegretto has the bloom of a clarinet tripping in gaily, followed by an ingratiating Menuetto, before the last movement tears off in high spirits.  Muti took this last with the urgency of a speeding car, but never steering the ensemble into a ditch.  The lightness of his touch when needed is a wonder.

His eagerness is contagious.  As before, he strode out quickly from the stage door as the musicians quickly raised their instruments, almost as if in alarm.  Muti wasted no time, whirling around to face the players and plunging into the opening bars.  The Dvořák Fifth Symphony had not been done by the Philharmonic since 1994, so we should thank Muti for choosing it over the much more frequently done later symphonies.

Brimming with optimism and high spirits, the Fifth features some bucolic writing (especially for the winds) coupled with the occasional ascent into full horsepower, and always never too far from the composer’s broadly drawn melodies.  Strings are feverish yet still voluptuous, such as the second movement’s magical beginning by the cellos and violas.  The third movement, a scherzo, is a scurrying dance with occasional bursts of flame, as if someone had told a particularly funny joke.  Any slight ominous feeling that opens the final movement quickly dissipates; Dvořák can’t stay gloomy for too long. 

If the overwhelming expertise that makes his later symphonies so memorable isn’t quite completely cemented here, this is nevertheless delightful music.  Even program annotator James Keller, in his excellent notes, speculates that its “relatively conventional style” may be one of the reasons it’s not played more often.  Thankfully Muti thinks otherwise.  As in the first two works on the program, the eager audience began its applause during the final chord, seconds before the orchestra had finished.  Normally, I might be slightly annoyed at people whitewashing the end with their enthusiasm, but the truth is, I was tempted to do the same thing.  Passion is infectious.

 

Bruce Hodges