SEEN AND HEARD INTERNATIONAL

Sibelius and Ravel: Cliff Colnot (conductor), Civic Orchestra of Chicago, Symphony Center, Chicago, 20.9.2010 (CD)

Sibelius: Symphony No. 4, Op. 63 (1912)

Ravel, Daphnis et Chloé, Suite No. 2 (1912)

Monday evening the Civic Orchestra of Chicago began its Symphony Center season with two works with seemingly not much in common — the 4th arguably being Sibelius's darkest and most unforgiving score; Daphnis being one of Ravel's most extroverted and joyful works. They do however share an affinity: neither are known to be "easy" works — Sibelius in his idiosyncratically long, weaving and lyrical phrasing with little breathing room for the players, Ravel in his constant metric shifts and fluttering wind arpeggios. For an orchestra of young players to take on such a challenge begs admiration, not to mention conductor Cliff Colnot.

The Fourth begins suddenly, with an abrupt intrusion by the basses describing a famously dissonant tritone figure splitting the octave in half, with no need for introduction: we know as soon as it begins what we are in for. The orchestra here took this opening as a gradual fade-in — a black fog rolling in rather than a monolith suddenly appearing before us. The principal cellist handled the following recitative-like solo with great aplomb, using suitable understatement rather than romantic broadness. The first movement overall was taken rather more slowly than usual, which, rather than deepening the menace of the movement, made me feel that I was continually waiting for the built-up tension to be released. The suspensions were unnecessarily drawn out, removing the sensation of catharsis brought on by the release. The oboe solo that begins the second movement was suitably dancing, and the buildup to the darker music in the latter half of the movement is again not a sudden glacial crack (as I feel it should be), but a slow submergence into cold water — the melodic phrasing being again stretched and neutralizing the shock of the new theme. The third movement (the darkest of the symphony), however was handled surprisingly well, and here Colnot's wide spacing actually works for the bleak nature of this section (only slightly marred by some intonation problems in the winds). The slow creep towards the deathly march and the following heart-rending climax were eminently convincing. The first bars of the final movement were taken at a run, diminishing the effect of the struggle between the two keys that normally gives this movement a feeling of conflicting feelings vacillating between anger and joy. The tension instead was simply glossed over. The four-note theme in the bells is here played by glockenspiel (the alternate choice taken by some conductors being tubular bells), which had not the timbral brightness to cut through the orchestra's texture — instead, it was lost in the mix. The principal clarinetist had trouble with a particularly large interval leap. The strings however, in the reoccurrence of the lyrical theme introduced by the cello, sounded breathtaking, and the horns played the hunting call-like motive wonderfully. The final breakdown of the major-key music into the descent towards the dark final bars felt appropriately wrenching, and the symphony ends with a mere pulse, a breath.

The Ravel, however, went off nearly without a hitch: the opening wind flourish was pleasantly distinct, and the glorious chord played by the entire orchestra was chill-inducing. The strings once again sounded note-perfect, and the clarinetist redeemed his earlier mistakes in the Sibelius with some difficult passagework performed without any mistakes. The final gallop into the last few pages of the wild dance were the most thrilling of the entire program, the players holding together like a well-oiled machine in the rhythmically tricky passages. Their enthusiastic performance of the Ravel atoned for a somewhat lifeless Sibelius and I was left with a grin brought on by the palpable fun the players were having in this music.

Corey Dominy

 

Corey Dominy is a Chicago-based writer, specializing in music, art, and literature.