Rimsky-Korsakov, Saint-Saëns and Bartók: Julian Rachlin, Violin, New York Philharmonic, Lorin Maazel, Conductor Avery Fisher Hall New York City  26. 5. 2007 (BH)

Rimsky-Korsakov: Russian Easter Overture, Op. 36 (1887-88)

Saint-Saëns: Violin Concerto No. 3 in B minor, Op. 61 (1880)

Bartók: Concerto for Orchestra, BB123, Sz.116 (1943)


In the years since I last heard a live performance of Rimsky-Korsakov’s Russian Easter Overture, I’ve been listening to more and more Janácek, who came to mind often in this performance.  Although the aims of the two composers couldn’t be more different, they share a love of modal harmonies, not to mention a devout adoration of an orchestra’s brass section.  The Overture was intended to depict a typical Russian Orthodox Easter, which Russians also know as “The Bright Holiday.”  To my ears it gleams like a jeweled bauble, slowly rotating for our admiration, and Lorin Maazel took every opportunity to show us every surface.  Although the New York Philharmonic’s brass and percussion were particularly virile, singing out loudly and flashily, concertmaster Glenn Dicterow offered nice contrast in some warm-hearted solos. 

Saint-Saëns ended the second movement of his Third Violin Concerto with a series of unusual harmonics to take advantage of the talents of Sarasate, the violinist who was a muse of the composer and gave the piece its premiere.  In the hands of Julian Rachlin, the passage jumped out as strikingly original, sounding much more modern than its 1880 date might suggest.  Elsewhere came pastoral evocations of birds, all showing Rachlin’s colorist talents even more strongly.  Both the soulful opening and the finale – a whirling dance – are filled with intricate fingerwork, and Rachlin made the most of the composer’s more florid paragraphs, with luxurious support from Maazel and the musicians.

As I suspected, Bartók’s Concerto for Orchestra plays to Maazel’s strengths, and he and the New York Philharmonic played it often on their recent European tour.  The beefy growl of the opening and shimmer of the upper strings and woodwinds were crowned with some absolutely regal brass – all highly polished with a master’s attention to color, dynamics and inner detail.  The “Game of Couples” and “Interrupted Intermezzo” were delightful, elegantly quick but not driven, and the central “Elegy” had nightmarish force and intensity.  The finale began genially enough, but soon had the orchestra at full burn, and Maazel once again showed that no matter how many times one has heard something, there is always a conductor out there who can find new bits, and here the lower strings seemed like a skeleton being unearthed at an archeological dig.  I hope the array of microphones overhead caught the spectrum.  Maazel’s approach focused on Bartók’s masterful palette, perhaps closer to a Charles Dutoit than a Georg Solti, with the final few bars unfurling like the blue-green feathers of a giant peacock.

 

Bruce Hodges