SEEN AND HEARD INTERNATIONAL

SEEN AND HEARD INTERNATIONAL CONCERT REVIEW

Ravel, Barber and Bartók: Gil Shaham (violin), David Robertson (conductor), New York Philharmonic, Avery Fisher Hall, New York City, 27.2.2010 (BH)

Ravel: Suite from Ma Mère l’Oye (Mother Goose) (1908-1910; 1911)

Barber: Concerto for Violin and Orchestra, Op. 14 (1939-40/1948)

Bartók: The Wooden Prince: A Dancing-Play in One Act, to a Libretto by Béla Balács, Op. 13 (1914-1917)


What would life be like without Ravel? A friend confessed that she wasn’t all that excited, seeing Ravel’s Suite from Ma Mère l’Oye on this Avery Fisher Hall program with David Robertson and the New York Philharmonic, but after it was over she found herself applauding as energetically as everyone else. Robertson seems to have unusually good chemistry during his guest appearances here. Sparkling woodwind solos, vivid entrances by the xylophone and gongs, and volume levels held carefully in check—all made the opener much more than a warm-up for the ensemble.

It was not Gil Shaham’s finest night with Barber’s demanding Violin Concerto, given that Shaham’s appearances often set the bar very high, both artistically and technically. Aside from his necktie drooping almost to his knees (Was no one available to give him one last look-see before he went onstage?), his earnest performance was flecked with tiny bobbles here and there. The first movement has one of the 20th century’s most unforgettable melodies, which Shaham let unfold with patience and grace, yet here and in the gorgeous middle Andante, he seemed slightly taken aback by some intonation problems. Even retuning after the first movement seemed of little help. In the final movement, filled with fireworks, Robertson drove the ensemble very fast while maintaining delicacy, but Shaham seemed uncharacteristically hesitant in the face of its ferocious difficulties.

Bartók wrote The Wooden Prince ballet for the Budapest Opera, using a scenario by Béla Balázs. The strange story concerns a Prince in a forest who spots a Princess, and then carves a wooden version of himself to try to attract her attention. Eventually a Fairy intervenes, the Princess gives up her crown, and she and the Prince fall in love. The opening sequence feels like a Bartókian version of the opening chords in Das Rheingold, ushering in a sprawling slate of orchestral effects. In the “Dance of the Waves,” swirling strings set off a tangy saxophone role, and the section where the Princess “Tries to Attract Him (the real Prince) with a Seductive Dance” is filled with harps, alternately fanciful and fearsome. After awhile I decided to ignore the unintentionally funny surtitles (e.g., “He sits down and thinks about his predicament. He has an idea.”), and focused on Robertson’s keen attention to the score, and the dusky, marbleized colors of the Philharmonic’s playing. I hope the orchestra plays this again soon, since the last time was with Pierre Boulez, some 35 years ago.

Bruce Hodges