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SEEN AND HEARD INTERNATIONAL CONCERT REVIEW
Ravel, Prokofiev and Stravinsky:
Lisa
Batiashvili
(violin), Boston Symphony Orchestra,
Charles Dutoit,
Symphony Hall, Boston, 28.3.2009 (KH)
Ravel:
Ma mère l’oye Suite
Prokofiev: Violin Concerto № 2 in G Minor, Opus 63
Stravinsky: Petrushka (original 1911 version)
Dutoit and the BSO work together with apparently natural ease, a
harmonious partnership nicely demonstrated by this all-French
program — Prokofiev had been based in France, and the concerto was
a commission for French violinist Robert Soetens; and
Stravinsky’s great early ballets were commissioned for the
Saisons russes in Paris.
The BSO’s
long-established affinity for the French repertory has been well
poliished by James Levine’s timely rehabilitation of the band, and
the Ravel suite was a breathtaking opener for a breathtaking
concert. From the wandering strings in “Tom Thumb” to the
ungainly contrabassoon in the “Beauty and the Beast” waltz, the
entire suite shimmered and enchanted.
Lisa Batiashvili
played the Prokofiev with energy and focus, from the mournfully
seductive opening movement (and with fiery intensity for the
skittering second theme) to the intriguing shifts of rhythmic
character in the rondo, alternating largely between the curiously
deliberate castanets, and the insistent pulsations of the bass
drum. The lyrical second movement is a gift to violinists
and audiences, both.
The program notes
mention that Stravinsky made some changes in the scoring of
Petrushka in 1947, though the changes incorporated notes that
he took down at the time of the premiere. The BSO played the
1911 original, and one question directed to me was, What’s
wrong with this orchestration? No matter that
Stravinsky’s second magnificent ballet is three years shy of a
century old: every measure is fresh, riveting music.
Tuba player Mike Roylance impersonated a bear (in purelymusical
terms, I mean) in the last scene, ‘managed’ by high-register
clarinets, in a bestiary counterpart to Gregg Henegar’s “Beast” of
a contrabassoon in the Ravel. Clarinetists Bill Hudgins and
Michael Wayne waxed mischievous with the arpeggiated “Petrushka
chord” triads in the puppet’s room. And through all the
ballet, the string choir shone; in all the busy texture of
the outer scenes, the strings demonstrated incisive warmth — that
seeming oxymoron which so perfectly suits Stravinsky’s style.
In 1953 (the year
Prokofiev died) Nicolas Slonimsky first published a historical
collection of derisive criticism directed at music which, over
time, became part of the literature; his lexicon’s subtitle is
Critical Assaults on Composers Since Beethoven’s Time.
One snarky comment on Petrushka not included by Slonimsky,
was Andrei Rimsky-Korsakov’s description of the score as moonshine
vodka mixed with perfume.
He said that as if it were a bad thing.
Karl Henning