SEEN AND HEARD INTERNATIONAL

Christian Tetzlaff, Orchestra of St. Luke’s: Christian Tetzlaff (Violin and Leader), Orchestra of St. Luke’s, Carnegie Hall, New York City, 28.10.2010 (SSM)

Mozart: Violin Concerto No. 3 in G Major, K.216

Schoenberg: Verklärte Nacht, Op. 4

Sibelius: Suite for Violin and Strings, Op.117

Haydn: Symphony No. 80 in D Minor

The word “conductor” normally describes the person who directs, shapes and imprints his unique vision on the music played by the orchestra. “Leader” as stated in the program notes is really a more accurate appellation for the person who directed tonight's performance. Whether playing as soloist or taking his seat as concertmaster, Christian Tetzlaff could only nod his head to signify the opening upbeat or the conclusion of a cadenza. The Orchestra of St. Luke’s is New York City's own version of that other headless band, the Orpheus Chamber Orchestra, and both play exceptionally well without a conductor. It was quite interesting, though, to see St. Luke’s play conductor-less a piece like Verklärte Nacht. This is a score that is heavily marked with expressive notations such as steigernd (swelling), leidenschaftlich (passionately) or hervortretend (prominently or boldly). Each musician must not only play the right notes but must also be aware of all the changes in meter, tempo and key, and understand how the composer's playing directives should be converted into sound. For the most part, this conversion was done. There were some moments when, with just the leadership of Mr. Tetzlaff as first violinist, the orchestra could have used a conductor to help bring out the composition’s special haunting ambiance. Verklärte Nacht is quite unique harmonically, and if played with great understanding creates an atmosphere that chills the listener with its shimmering angst. Under a conductor who had a conception of the piece as a whole and could draw the exact expressiveness needed from each musician as required, it would have been a more successful rendering of this early Schoenberg.

The concert opened with a performance of Mozart's Violin Concerto No. 3 which Mr. Tetzlaff started within seconds of appearing on stage. The words that best describe the sound coming from both him and the Orchestra of St. Luke’s are two that I hate to use, but here seem particularly apt: “creamy” and “silky”. I say this in a positive sense because the performance was quite moving. Mr. Tetzlaff played with great panache and ease, as did the orchestra, and it seemed at times unbelievable that he was applying enough pressure on the strings for the notes to be heard at the back of the Parquet. Even more impressive was the fact that Mr. Tetzlaff wrote his own very imaginative and Mozartean cadenzas for the first and second movements.

Mozart’s ending to the second movement is unusual. First, it is uncommon in a concerto for the instrumentalist to play as soloist after he completes the cadenza. And second, Mozart ends the movement exactly as if he were beginning it again, the only difference being that this time the violin rather than the orchestra plays the opening theme. After a few measures, though, Mozart simply ends the music in a whimper.

Sibelius’s Suite for Violin and Strings is an odd composition. It is sad to think that this piece, written by the same composer who wrote one of the twentieth century’s greatest violin concertos, was the last music he completed; sad that he remained so musically blocked until his death thirty years later, that this was all he could produce. The suite, intended by the composer to be destroyed, did not suffer the same fate as his notoriously incomplete Eighth Symphony. To call it slight would be an understatement: three movements barely ten minutes in total. The first movement consists of off-beat rustic music in the style of Ach dulieberAugustin. The second movement starts off tenderly, stirs a bit in the middle and ends in its original mood. Only the third movement has some character: an amazingly virtuosic Moto Perpetuo, accompanied by the strings playing pizzicato. Mr. Tetzlaff tossed off this difficult violin exercise as if it were a bonbon. Watching him play made me think of a film being shown at twice or three times its normal speed.

The concert ended with one of Haydn’s later symphonies, the 80th. This piece is unusual in having D Minor as its key signature. It had been fifteen years since Haydn had written a symphony in that key: the 26^th, named “Lamentione,” for a melody from a Gregorian Chant used as the basis of the second movement. However, in the 80^th Symphony Haydn does not use D Minor as a means of expressing Sturm und Drang as he had in the 26^th. Instead he takes the opportunity to play some jokes by using the seriousness of the key as a foil to poke fun at the rigid demands of the Sonata form. In the first movement where the development section would usually start, Haydn instead places an inebriated minuet. When the real development section starts there is a pregnant pause as if Haydn were thinking which direction he should go: the tragic opening direction or the wacky waltz direction. The movement ends with the waltz as if it were a confirmation from the composer that the days of Sturm und Drang are long over. The second movement is lyrical and deeply felt, sounding as though it were written in a minor key, but in fact it is in B-Flat Major. The minuet and trio return to the original D-Minor key. The final movement plays with syncopation, at first between the members of the string section and then, in the development section, between the winds players. The orchestra performed this final movement, full of rapid passages and sharp soft-to-loud dynamics, quite proficiently.

As a whole, all the pieces on tonight’s varied program were played exceptionally well. Perhaps, with a little more direction from a strong conductor, it could have been more than just exceptional.

Stan Metzger