Thomas Moser, Tenor
(Parsifal)
Michelle DeYoung, Mezzo-Soprano (Kundry)
Eike Wilm Schulte, Baritone (Klingsor)
Flowermaidens:
Malia Bendi Merad, Soprano
Marcy Stonikas, Soprano
Elizabeth de Shong, Mezzo-Soprano
In the
quiet, haunting viola line that opens the
Mahler, the Cleveland players negotiated the
composer’s subtle path with vibrato-less purity,
demonstrating why they are pretty much unsurpassed
– equaled but rarely overtaken. The movement
is one of Mahler’s most divine creations,
with achingly yearning melodic lines, huge
intervallic leaps of well over an octave,
and a baleful climax with an immense nine-note
chord, hovering as if one is staring death
in the face. Boulez, with his typical clarity
and understatement, didn’t overemphasize but
gently coaxed the orchestra to breathe Mahler’s
seemingly abrupt transitions in and out, allowing
the progressions to speak for themselves.
No soft edges, no apologies – just jewel-like
incidents gently melding into each other,
with each new passage following cleanly from
the next. Like Boulez’s unaffected Mahler
on recordings, his no-nonsense approach is
not to every taste. But to those for whom
Mahler’s idiom is already excessive, this
approach can seem like finding a hidden door
opening onto a fresh-smelling meadow filled
with wildflowers.
With
the Parsifal fragment clocking in at
just under an hour, Boulez offered a slightly
swifter Act II than some, and the impeccable
orchestra seemed to have no end of glorious
tone to offer. Again, Boulez’s steadfast refusal
to swoon or exaggerate the score doesn’t appeal
to everyone, but I find his direct manner
offers its own kind of rapture, and of course
Wagner’s architecture can hold up to many
different approaches. The word "bloated"
sometimes floats by in discussions of the
composer and of this opera, but not here.
Those who have heard Boulez’s Bruckner Eighth
Symphony will recognize the approach:
transcendence achieved without advertising
or highlighting.
Thomas
Moser made a luminous Parsifal, confident
all evening and immersed in the role. Michelle
DeYoung glowed as Kundry and the supple quality
of her voice consistently delighted, as did
her intelligent musicianship, such as in her
unabashed fun with her brief passages of laughter.
Eike Wilm Schulte took a few minutes to project
fully, but after a few minutes his stern Klingsor
emerged and was as engaging as the work of
his two partners. The women of the Westminster
Choir delighted as the Maidens, and those
with solo turns sounded excellent even in
such starry company.
As far
as the playing of the incomparable Cleveland
Orchestra, their work here, as in the previous
evening, could be a model of how individual
artists work together to achieve a common
goal. Special mention to Richard King, principal
horn, and the glowing group of trombones that
pretty much outdid themselves. And as for
concertmaster William Preucil and the first
violins, some of the more stratospheric demands
in the Mahler made the tips of their left-hand
fingers appear to touch their noses, and it
is very difficult to keep these passages in
tune, making the consistent discipline all
the more impressive. Boulez will be conducting
the entire Wagner at Bayreuth this summer,
but (with all due respect to the festival’s
distinguished personnel) the instrumental
element will be hard-pressed to equal what
the Clevelanders presented last night.
To be
completely candid, I confess that I enjoyed
the first of the
two evenings even more, with its slightly
manic playing and unusual repertoire. The
Dalbavie is something I’d like to hear again,
and I can’t get the Bartók out of my
mind. For the Wagner, the orchestra seemed
slightly reigned in, probably to avoid overpowering
the singers, and frankly, Cleveland is not
a group I want to hear playing under any constraints.
But now we really are splitting hairs.
Bruce Hodges
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