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SEEN
AND HEARD INTERNATIONAL CONCERT REVIEW
Handel, Vivaldi, Respighi and Bach:
Gerard Schwarz, cond., Elisa Barston, violin, Seattle Symphony,
Benaroya Hall, Seattle, 17.10.2008 (BJ)
Music from the 18th and the two previous centuries made up this
pleasantly undemanding and no less pleasantly undoctrinaire program
in the Seattle Symphony’s “Basically Baroque” series. It was
undoctrinaire in the sense that original scores were presented
beside pieces orchestrated years after their creation by 20th- and
21st-century arrangers.
Except insofar as we always hear music through the filter of the
performer’s personality and musicianship, the first half of the
concert offered direct encounters with works by Handel and Vivaldi.
Music director Gerard Schwarz gave Handel’s Concerto grosso in G
minor, Op. 6 No. 6, a performance combining rhythmic vitality with a
richness of tone–on modern instruments–that an ascetically inclined
purist might have found excessive, but that I thoroughly enjoyed.
There are more ways than one to skin a cat, or to perform old music,
and Schwarz’s way with the latter activity falls well short of
exceeding the bounds of good taste.
Next came two Vivaldi violin concertos that neither I, nor I suspect
most members of the audience, could recall ever having heard
before–RV 217 in D major and RV 331 in G minor. Without emulating
the tunefulness of better-known Vivaldi works, they both provide
plenty of musical sustenance, especially in performances as skillful
and committed as those provided by the orchestra’s gifted principal
second violin, Elisa Barston. Again, the tone she drew from her
instrument (made in the 18th century by Carlo Ferdinando Landolfi of
Milan) achieved a lustrous opulence far removed from
period-instrument austerity, and the result, enhanced by her
incisive phrasing and musical acumen, was fresh and satisfying.
After intermission a further filter–the arranger’s prism–was
interposed between original creations and contemporary listeners,
illuminating rather than distorting the music in the process. This
was my first encounter with Respighi’s orchestrations of three Bach
chorale preludes: Nun komm, der Heiden Heiland; Meine Seele
erhebt den Herren; and Wachet auf, ruft uns die Stimme.
They are really fine arrangements, especially the first, which
clothes the tune in a quite wonderful web of dark orchestral
sonorities. Here as throughout the evening the orchestra, with
several guests filling in for principals who were away to perform in
the Seattle Opera’s Elektra production, nevertheless played
with all its accustomed polish and expressive warmth.
Respighi’s much more familiar Suite No. 1 of Ancient Airs and Dances
followed: arrangements of pieces by Simone Molinaro, Vincenzo
Galilei (father of the astronomer), and two anonymous renaissance
composers. Respighi is a seriously underrated master, perhaps
because the sheer sonic splendor of his famous Roman tone-poems
strikes the ears of puritanical persons as altogether too much of a
dangerously good thing. These more modestly scored arrangements,
which still have ample color and an admirable textural clarity, seem
to me to provide a legitimate way of enjoying some
charming tunes we should otherwise never have a chance to hear,
rather as Liszt’s operatic piano fantasies did for 19th-century
audiences.
Schwarz ended the evening with his own orchestrations of four
Contrapuncti from The Art of Fugue. They were eloquently
played, and effectively blended restrained instrumental colorings
with fidelity to the spirit of Bach’s text. To tell the truth, I
find the tonal uniformity and rhythmic squareness of these assuredly
masterly fugal essays a shade tedious in such a grouping; in
particular, I find it curious that the composer should have chosen
for extended treatment a fugal subject that, unlike those of most of
his greatest fugues, begins so firmly on the main beat of the
measure. But I know I am in a minority in my somewhat qualified
enthusiasm for Bach, so let it pass, let it pass.
Bernard Jacobson
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