Tag Archives: Davies Symphony Hall San Francisco

LOVE FEST FOR MTT

LOVE FEST FOR MTT: April 26, 2025

San Francisco knows how to throw a Love Fest. For Michael Tilson Thomas’s 80th birthday, nothing better than the best of the best could do. MTT, as he is called, is now Music Director Laureate of the San Francisco Symphony, Conductor Laureate of the London Symphony Orchestra, and co-founder and artistic director laureate of the New World Symphony. He has won 12 Grammy Awards and conducted all the major orchestras in Europe and the US. However, San Francisco thinks of MTT as ours. His active participation in the life of the SF Symphony and through that his treating the City as home; that’s why the completely packed Davies Symphony Hall, even in the partial view seats, started teary and smiling and sharing stories before the concert began. San Francisco loves MTT, and we believe he loves us, too.

MTT has been living with a brain tumor. Still, he has come back to conduct first twice a year and then once a year. If you are wondering how he could conduct, his ability to conduct is still there. No question. What is gone is the physicality of his former conducting. There were the jumps, the great reach to the roof, both arms crossing together from left to right and then indicating one section or player with his baton. Oh, there were also the deep knee bends. He danced with force.

The first time MTT conducted the SF Symphony they played Mahler’s 9th. He became the Music Director in 1995. We need to remember that MTT’s Mahler concerts were so well known and admired that MAHLER was written on the side of Muni Buses.

Mayor Daniel Lurie names this day, MTT day, and awards him for the whole city.

MTT conducted two lengthy pieces, one at the beginning of the birthday program and another at the end. The opening was Benjamin Britten’s, Variations and Fugue on a Theme of Purcell, Opus 34 (1946). It is also called The Young Person’s Guide to the Orchestra. While it might have educational aspects, it is, as Michael Steinberg wrote, “the work is very much worth playing for its sheer musical pleasure.” The music’s theme comes from Purcell’s revival of Abdelazar, or the Moor’s Revenge, a play by Aphra Behn. The music first identifies one section of instruments – maybe strings or percussion and the others. Then, Britten puts the orchestra back together in a fugue; he has themes for each section. The instruments play them one at a time and then together. It is happy, playful music which is not at all superficial; it brings music that bows and smiles. Wonderful choice.

Benjamin Britten, composer (1913 – 1974)

MTT also conducted Overture from Khantshe in Amerike, by Joseph Rumshinsky (arr. MTT), a composer originally from Lithuania and then lived in New York. He came to the US in 1904 because Boris Thomashefsky, MTT’s grandfather, asked him to come. Rumshinsky aided the Yiddish Theater and created it as a source of fine operettas. MTT produced The Thomashevskys: Music and Memories of a Life in the Yiddish Theater. Its premiere was at Carnegie Hall, 2005. I was thrilled to be in the audience for his presentation of The Thomashevskys on the Davies Symphony Hall stage. It was fun and touching with MTT’s music and music from the early 20thc.

Sasha Cooke, mezzo soprano
The next section of the celebration presented seven songs, five of them by MTT. Of the two that were not his were Claude Debussy’s La flute de Pan from Chansons de Bilitis (1897), sung by Frederica von Stade, mezzo soprano, John Wilson at the piano. Frank Loesser’s Take Back Your Mink, from Guys and Dolls (1950). The singers were stars. Three of them, Ben Jones, tenor; Jessica Vosk; and Sasha Cooke, mezzo soprano, got their career starts with help from MTT. Frederica von Stade and MTT have worked together since 1970. In Take Back Your Mink, the SF Symphony Chorus women added lively singing, dancing, and swinging somethings not mink. MTT’s songs are tender, sometimes ironically funny, personal in ways that most everyone thinks. The titles tell it: “Not Everyone Thinks That I’m Beautiful” (1985); “Drift Off to Sleep” (1982); Answered Prayers, 1974. The songs were a special way to know more of MTT. Unlike some other conductors who write music, Michael Tilson Thomas very rarely put his own work on an SFS program; it was his songs I most wanted to hear.

The after intermission concert started with a beautiful MTT song titled “Grace.” (1988) Sasha Cooke and Frederica von Stade gave the song thoughtfulness and shading of emotions. Very lovely. John Wilson on piano. The SFS Chorus, directed by Jenny Wong, reached into the heart of the music by Leonard Bernstein, the Finale from Chichester Psalms (1965). As Bernstein and MTT were good friends, it was the right selection for this birthday.

Leonard Bernstein in 1973. (Photo by Allan Warren/Creative Commons)

One more terrific, long piece to close the show; it was MTT conducting Roman Festivals (1928), by Ottorino Respighi. The movements are four festivals. Each one has a different energy and a different sound, rhythm, character. I had never heard it before and enjoyed it very much. The different movements included: Games at the Circus Maximus, The Jubilee, The October Festival, and The Epiphany.

Planning a program is an art. Our Maestro made wise choices for what he would conduct. Excellent music that might not be the “usual” thing, two long pieces which had interesting changes of emotion and rhythm, and, most of all, demonstrated that despite his condition, MTT, you’ve still got it.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MTT!

Photos by Stefan Cohen, courtesy of SF Symphony

 

 

SF Symphony: Brahms & Shostakovich

Davies Symphony Hall, San Francisco, March 30 — This was a great program. Brahms’ Violin Concerto in D Major, Opus 77 and Shostakovich’s Symphony No. 10 in E minor, Opus 93.

If you ever learn that Gil Shaham, violinist, is playing near you, someplace on this same planet, go to hear and see him. He was the guest soloist playing Brahms’ Violin Concerto in D major. He is a blissful musician and shares the bliss with his audience. As he played, he related to the conductor, Juraj Valcuha, and also turned toward the Concertmaster, Alexander (Sasha) Barantschik. It seemed that he wanted their experiences in the music to fit with each other so that they enjoyed making music together.

Gil Shaham, violinist,  He performs regularly with the Berlin Philharmonic, Boston Symphony, Chicago Symphony, Los Angeles Philharmonic, Orchestre de Paris, Israel Philharmonic. He has multi-year residencies with Montreal Symphony, Stuttgart Philharmonic, Singapore Symphony.

The Concerto is something different in Brahms’ repertoire and new to the late19th century audience for serious music. “Normally,” in concerti of the era, the orchestra was a frame for the music made by the soloist. The soloist dominated the two-some. In this concerto, they are equals. It also offers new, off-center rhythms that made the listeners at the 1879 premiere decide it was a strange Brahms, as though he had heard wisps of this music from E.T. The first movement has a lovely, lyrical method to carry through changes from major to minor and the presence of Hungarian folk tunes folded into this Allegro non troppo. I remember it, even when there are surprising switches, as a deep and moving quiet, moving like a river, not entirely moving like an emotion. This is where an Adagio oboe melody drifts through gentle but never weak, winds. The violin brings more musical strife and then it all becomes calm, but never still. The finale, Allegro giocoso ma non troppo (happy but not too happy) is obviously demanding over-the-top technical brilliance. Shaham was in clover. It was not a bit challenging to him as the full audience were thrilled.

Johannes Brahms, composer (1833-1897)  This is the first Violin Concerto he wrote. He was pounced on by writers and music lovers. What had he done? He had made a great piece with new sounds and rhythms which were not welcomed. The reception rattled him so much that he destroyed his second violin concerto and never wrote another. Occasionally, I hear the finale movement of the Violin Concerto in D major on the radio, but not the whole concerto. It is a rare jewel. Shaham, Valcuha, and the SF Symphony gave it the performance it deserves.

Dmitri Shostakovich, composer (1906-1975)

On one of my first visits to the San Francisco Symphony, I learned that they would not play anything by Shostakovich. It shocked me. The idea was that Shostakovich was a loyal Russian Communist, and therefore an enemy. Later, Leonard Slatkin was a guest conductor. He spoke to the audience and encouraged them to understand Shostakovich’s hunted life, and appreciate the greatness of his music. It surprises me now to note that some music writers still assume that Shostakovich was all about Communism and writing music that supported the current ideals. Some even treat the two times he had lost approval by Stalin’s regime was, “after all, only twice.” This is a great composer. He could not have his work performed. He could not work. He wrote for movies, and tried to be rehabilitated. He had to know that other artists had been sent to Siberia, which was a place to die, or, they were shot. When he was allowed to go to the US as an artist on display but with grim chaperones, he was reported to look like a prisoner speaking what he had to say. He was denounced by the authorities, lost his teaching positions, did not write between his Symphony No. 9, 1945, until the Symphony No. 10, 1953. What happened? Stalin died. So, the question about his Symphony No.10 in E minor, Opus 93 is whether the Symphony was specifically about Stalin. For myself, I think it is about Stalin, but not as a portrait of that dictator. The atmosphere, what there was to breathe, what to think, how not to think was all Stalin and his cohorts all the time. Shostakovich and other artists who lived in Stalin’s world had lives which were continually repressed by the entire regime. Shostakovich was there; his family and private life were constantly in danger.

Shostakovich at the piano

The Symphony opens with the cellos and basses. Moderato, it has a sound lying under the music; that sound says, “Be careful. You may be watched.” The strings carry the movement forward to language from solo instruments: a clarinet solo, a horn fills the music, more clarinet, and a flute accompanying plucking strings. The whole orchestra builds its very loud cries, and the music becomes even louder. Briefly, it sounds like an army. The movement ends with piccolo and timpani. The listener, becoming anxious, catches her breath, but still the eyes open wide in the quiet but ghostly end. The second movement is an Allegro, like a super fast scherzo. It is rushing to the edge of the moon. Is someone running away? Is a whole nation running after…what? It pushes the heart of the music. There is no moment to think; the strings play very, very quietly. The scherzo abruptly cuts itself off. The third movement has three styles: Allegretto – Lento – Allegretto. It is not so fast as the Allegro, but runs briskly. Then, there are slower moments and a return to the brisk movement. There is a teasing, lively mood that has that under lying, troubling, secret sound. The piccolo, flute, timpani, and triangle present a sardonic tone as the music marches on. The Symphony ends with Andante – Allegro beginning similarly to the first movement’s cellos and basses. A lovely oboe almost calms the music as once again the flute flies solo. Now, the wildness of the second movement becomes an energetic, klezmer. It is at last a joyful sound for all of us.

Beethoven & Rachmaninoff: Breathtaking

Davies Symphony Hall, San Francisco, Sunday, March 2 — Experiencing this performance took the audience into the world and the center of human life. Not magic, as someone might say, but the beauty and energy of real life swept us away. The music:  Piano Concerto No.4 in G Major, Opus 58, by Ludwig Van Beethoven; Symphony No. 2 in E Minor, Opus 27, by Sergei Rachmaninoff. The beauty would make one tingle. Another note about the music is how much each composer knows about being alive.

Ludwig Van Beethoven, pianist and composer (1770 – 1827)

The soloist, Francesco Piemontesi, brought the music’s soul to Davies Hall. I have a recording of this Piano Concerto and listen to it frequently. A recording can never match being there and hearing the live music in person, but now I cannot imagine another pianist playing with the same understanding, delicacy, and power. Piemontesi demonstrated that a soft sound can be powerful. Robin Ticciati was the conductor. He and Piemontesi were on the same wave length with regard to both the feeling and technique. The orchestra performed well on all levels. The musicians were perfect partners in this strange and beautiful concerto. The piano sounded like water running smoothly over polished rocks. The key to this concerto is the very first note. The soloist begins. The pianist played that first note in a way that said, “This is what I am, what I will be, what you can feel. One note.” I felt it touched me, made my throat close, my eyes momentarily almost in tears. No reason why, except that Beethoven created a unique Piano Concerto that offers a journey through lush sounds in the quietest way he could. He let the Concerto tell us the message.

Francesco Piemontesi, pianist     The audience went appropriately wild after more bows. His encore was gorgeous.  J.S. Bach’s Chorale Prelude, Sleepers, Awake/Wachet auf, ruft uns die Stimme 645, transcribed for piano by Ferruccio Busoni, 1898. Piemontesi played the piece so that it sounded like he had two more hands. Some of that is thanks to Busoni, but it could only been played that way by a great pianist. Francesco Piemontesi is a great pianist.  These performances are his first at San Francisco.  This season, he will perform with the Chicago Symphony, Cleveland Orchestra, Pittsburgh Symphony, Oslo Philharmonic, Helsinki Philharmonic. He will perform with Robin Ticciati with the Budapest Festival Orchestra and tours with the London Philharmonic. And more.

Robin Ticciati, Conductor     has been music director of the Deutsches Symphonie-Orchester Berlin, since 2017. He is also the Music Director of Glyndebourne Festival Opera since 2014. He has conducted the Berlin Philharmonic, Vienna Philharmonic, London Symphony, Czech Philharmonic, Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra, and many more in Europe and the US. His San Francisco debut was January, 2023. I admired his conducting tremendously. His directions are clear and strong. His arms open high and wide to include the sound world, and he uses his natural grace, going into a grande plie or on his toes,  to signal where the music should go. I liked to see his movements as they confirm that music is something real that can move mountains and human hearts, too.

Sergei Rachmaninoff pianist and composer ( 1873 – 1943)

The Symphony No.2 in E minor, Opus 27 is so beautiful that the self-appointed Modernists could not admit it is great music, but it is. They called it new or semi or whatever before Romantic. Rachmaninoff’s music is original. He has his own voice and style; expansively it includes the fullest experience and ideas. It is sensual and magnificent. When the first movement began, I thought, “Oh, he is taking us into a mystery.” Later, I read that Michael Steinberg commented that it begins “in mystery, with pianissimo low strings.” The Symphony No. 2 is about 55 minutes long. It has to be big to be so full of all its love and life. The composer leads us through the Symphony’s world. The first movement is marked Largo-Allegro moderato, and it covers slow and rhythmic, melodies in motion. The second movement, Allegro molto, is wilder. There are tunes that Rachmaninoff, also a composer of songs, flies through. There is a fugue in the second violins and then a scherzo-like drama that Rachmaninoff lets loose. Steinberg knew that the composer liked to enter notes of the Dies irae from the Gregorian Mass for the Dead. But that is not the idea of the Adagio that comes next. It is about love. “Now hear this;” The music tells the story of love; it does not need to speak. There is still more mystery in the next movement. Each instrument plays: English horn and oboe and then each of the others. The clarinet returns to the melody at the beginning. Having begun the Finale with the Symphony’s quiet, now it turns on the music rushing like a water fall. Rachmaninoff ‘s lyricism thrills the ending with wide world embraces.

Shostakovich & Mahler: Amazing Music

February 6, 2025 – Davies Symphony Hall, San Francisco – The San Francisco Symphony took giant steps into the music of Dmitri Shostakovich and Gustav Mahler. All efforts were successful and rewarded; the audience held its breath, stood to show appreciation, could not have been more excited by the music. The master composers of the 20th century sometimes shocked the music world with their new approaches to classical music: dissonance, layering of sounds, all with incredible virtuosity. Paavo Jarvi, conductor, led the SF Symphony through fresh, interpretive ideas for the playing of Shostakovich’s Piano Concerto No. 2 in F major, Opus 102 (1957) and Mahler’s Symphony No. 7 in E minor (1905).

Paavo Jarvi, conductor, winner Grammy Award for recording of Sibelius’ cantatas with the Estonian National Symphony, Grammaphone and Diapason Artist of the Year, Commandeur de L’Ordre des Arts et Lettres awarded by French Ministry of Culture.

Dmitri Shostakovich, composer (1906-1975)

Shostakovich wrote the Piano Concerto No. 2 in F major, Opus 102 for his son. Maxim wanted to appear as a soloist in order to help him enter the Moscow Conservatory. He had studied piano and conducting. Maxim asked his father repeatedly to write something for him to perform. Shostakovich at last produced this Concerto. Maxim’s solo was a success; he was admitted to the Conservatory. The Concerto was neither abandoned nor left only for youthful pianists. The father adopted this Concerto into his own concerto repertory and played it himself.

The piano soloist has the opportunity to show every possible piano technique one could have learned or which Shostakovich seems to have invented. Here is just one as described by James M. Keller, Program Annotator of SFS: “holding long notes and tracing melodies with separate fingers of a single hand.” I was there and heard it, but I cannot envision it. The composer has more up his sleeves: abrupt changes of meter, one from 2/4 to an unbalanced 7/8 and then breaking it down to multiple meters. The first and third movements were Allegro with the third much faster. The second movement, Andante, was a look back to the Romanticism of Tchaikovsky and Rachmaninoff. Its beauties made the quick, quirky, challenges to the pianist all the more exciting and dramatic.

Kirill Gerstein, pianist

Kirill Gerstein was the soloist. He was fascinating to watch and hear. Very fast, great coordination of arms, hands, and individual fingers. A fabulous performance. Gerstein’s world premiere recording of Thomas Ades’ Piano Concerto with theBoston Philharmonic received the 2020 Gramophone Award. Kirill Gerstein, pianist; he performed Rachmaninoff’s Melodie, Op. 3, No. 3 as an encore on February 6. The audience was thrilled by the performance.

Gustav Mahler, composer (1860 – 1911)

Mahler. Each of his symphonies is a whole world of actions, thoughts, cow bells, rustic dancers, military marches, desperate reaches for truth. Mahler said that he had started Symphony No. 7 from its middle, and that the whole would be symmetrical. Movements are balanced; there are two Nachtmusik movements. The The first movement is an Allegro moderato-Molto moderato (Andante).  Nachtmusiks are in between the Slow-Allegro that opens the Symphony and the Scherzo: Schattenhaft (Like a shadow). We hear a very beautiful theme. The violin plays with elan. There are marches. A march becomes something else, something hidden until a wonderful lyric breaks through. The music is heard as a night time march. Cowbells break in surrounded by a sort of jump off a cliff in the strings section; the tam-tam and cymbals come in until the ‘cello sings alone. The Scherzo is ghostly. Drums and strings quarrel about their places. The Scherzo gives up as though its fabric frayed. The second Nachtmusik presents heartbeats and passion, a love song at night. Strangely, the guitar and mandolin make music that carries beyond the orchestral sounds. They are sad and lonely.The Finale charges with drums and slight references to Beethoven and Brahms. The Beethoven influence in Brahms’ Symphony No. 1 is not a quotation but a visiting cousin. Wagner’s Die Meistersinger seems to drift through, again not a quote just a suggestion of – this is a surprise – Wagner’s humor. It seems to me that the idea of Wagner’s humor is hilarious on its own. The symphony is triumphant. We are in nature and a part of nature. Drums return to remind us of the daylight, the thumping dancers, the gorgeous theme from earlier movements. Mahler will not let us down. He has so many ideas of the theme that he can offer them in layers or rearranging them or finding new sounds within them. He lets go of control; the sun shines. We are here.

 

Maestro Blomstedt Gives Us Schubert & Brahms

January 30 – Davies Symphony Hall – Herbert Blomstedt conducted the San Francisco Symphony in the Symphony No. 5 in B-flat major, D. 485, by Franz Schubert (1816) and Symphony No. 1 in C minor, Opus 68, by Johannes Brahms (1855-76). When I hear the great music played by the SFS, conducted by Herbert Blomstedt, I feel that I know what the music was composed to be from every sound. Maestro Blomstedt’s authority comes from his deep knowledge of every step in the music. He leads the musicians into the world of the music. There is no ego that others might flash for their interpretations of the composers’ musical ideas or other ideas put upon the music. His strength and honesty makes the audience realize she is experiencing the truth.

Herbert Blomstedt, Conductor, photo by Jonathan Clark

Schubert’s Symphony No. 5 opens a lovely spring time. Listening to this Symphony gives the audience and orchestra the full experience: walking among flowering trees, hearing water move, enjoying the sunshine which is not going to burn. It is a model of the graceful moments in nature and in our human nature. There is no down side to the physical presence we see on our walk. The music is light but not slight. Of the four movements, only one is not Allegro. Serious music does not require tragedy. To experience this music one can recall a garden or imagine the Garden. It is a gift.

Franz Schubert, Composer (1797 – 1828)

The San Francisco Symphony performed majestically in both symphonies. Maestro Blomstedt found ways to pour the right energy in for these disparate emotions and music. Often it seems that comments on Brahms’ Symphony No. 1 are mostly about how long it took to materialize. An expert commentator calls it “burly.” I do not think that is 100% fitting. What is burly? Yesterday I saw pictures of a grizzly bear with her cub. Later, the grizzly bear was run down by a vehicle. The cub was orphaned. These bears are bigger than humans and will protect their young. “Burly” is not adequate for the bears either. The first movement comes forward without any dodges; not wasting time working up to being Big. It is powerful, beautiful, and alarming. This is an entrance of the earth; massive storms, floods, giant trees, mountains. Brahms may have needed 14 years to become the Brahms who pulled the Symphony No. 1 out of all he learned while composing other great works. He was inspired by his own work, and it is something only Brahms could do. It is all new. it starts and will not let go until all of it can exist. When I hear the sudden switch to the glorious theme, I cry. I do not know why that happens. Having the opportunity to see Herbert Blomstedt back stage, I asked him, “what makes me cry exactly at that moment?” He thought for a second and told me: “It is a revelation.” That is it. A vision. A perfection.

Johannes Brahms, Composer (1833 – 1897)

Maestro Blomstedt was Music Director of the San Francisco Symphony, chief conductor of the NDR Symphony Orchestra, and music director of the Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra. He has conducted at Copenhagen, Stockholm, Dresden, and the Bamberg Symphony and the NHK Symphony Orchestra. All of these honored him as Conductor Laureate. He has been given honorary doctorates, was elected to membership in the Royal Swedish Music Academy and was awarded the German Great Cross of Merit with Star. He continues to lead orchestras around the world.

His San Francisco audience cheered him and applauded without pause.

 

Shostakovich & Brahms: Amazing Performance

The San Francisco Symphony performed the Shostakovich Violin Concerto No. 1, in A minor, Opus 77(99) and the Brahms Symphony No. 4 in E minor, Opus 98, October 5, at the Davies Symphony Hall. This listener is still standing to applaud it was such great music performed majestically. Music Director, Esa-Pekka Salonen, conducted with strength and understanding of masterpieces of two great composers

Dmitri Shostakovich, composer (1906 – 1975)
From the very first sound from the violin, my whole being straightened up in attention to the exquisite music made by one draw of bow across instrument. Sayaka Shoji, the soloist, plays the “Recamier” Stradivarius violin, ca. 1729, loaned to her by Ueno Fine Chemicals Industry, Ltd. The violin may have been played by other outstanding musicians, but I believe it had been waiting four centuries for its ideal partner, Ms Shoji. Shostakovich made this concerto a marathon challenge for the violinist. She performs continuously. She must run a rocky path and up a steep mountain, something like climbing Half Dome. There is a small sign requiring the violinist to meditate; she climbs high enough to bring the music to stillness but never to a stop. There are moments she shares with a flute and a clarinet both supporting her pilgrimage. If you love Shostakovich’s music, and I do, this is a profound message. It is alive with the philosophical melody of the first movement, Nocturne. The Scherzo contains the composer’s laughs at a dictator’s cruelty. Folk dance is suggested, but it is not for jolly folk. It is rough and creepy. The third movement, Passacaglia, blossoms into nine variations led by the horns and more wind instruments. Their wind blows through each variation turning into a funeral call. Ms Shoji’s cadenza has a wild sadness and brings more of the folk dance back onto the stage as though the energetic dancers are crazed by loss. From the cadenza the music pours into rousing bagpipe sounds and a non-stop party of all the musicians, folks, and roaming strangers, a revel of jumping, running, and celebrating joy in this moment.

Johannes Brahms, composer, (1833 – 1897)

Brahms. The long wait for him to produce his first symphony is a familiar story. He terrorized himself thinking of Beethoven following him, intimidating his writing. He began making notes and sketches in 1850, but the tremendous, glorious Symphony No. 1 debuted in 1876. His Symphony No. 4 was a triumph and the last of his symphonies. The performance by SF Symphony, October 5, led by Esa-Pekka Salonen, affected the listener’s heart while emotion was spoken by beautiful, quiet, lyrical passages, Allegro non troppo. Behind the first movement, and behind each movement, there is always something that cannot be named: a texture, interactions of instruments, a thought for the world. Brahms was a great intellect as well as a great musician. His writing found ways to allow us to hear the music with all our attention and yet be aware that there is something we will never see. In his writing, he broke some classical ways. In the program’s essay,, the late, wonderful writer Michael Steinberg explains how a seemingly small step changed every thing. “Almost everyone was upset over what appears now one of the most wonderful strokes in the work, the place where Brahms seems to make the conventional, classical repeat of the exposition but changes one chord after eight measures, thereby opening undreamed-of harmonic horizons….” This must be what a master of the technique as well as of the sound can do. “One small step” could change everything. Then, it is like breathing, something also easy, complicated, and brilliant. Brahms mines the Baroque and Renaissance music for something new, inspired by Bach’s Cantata No. 150. He did not try to do “authentic” ancient music; he discovered how he could understand it and then do it but differently. The entire symphony is full of energy even when the music is quiet. Passion drives the music, but it never colors outside the lines. Great and true passion lets us learn many possibilities and unifies the world.

 

 

Daniil Trifonov Lights Up Davies Symphony Hall

Daniil Trifonov lit up Davies Symphony Hall, Nov. 19, San Francisco. The audience was fascinated by his playing and only a few minutes into Rameau’s Suite in A minor, RCT 5 (1729/30), we were all transfixed. The program itself was a jewel: Rameau, Mozart’s Piano Sonata No.12 in F major, K.332 (300k) (ca. 1783), Mendelssohn’s Variations Serieuses, Opus 54 (1841), Beethoven’s Piano Sonata No. 29 in-B flat major, Opus 106, Hammerklavier (1818).

The selections were not random choices from famous composers. Each piece had special challenges for the pianist and brought unique charm and glory for the listeners.

The program was not only about the majestic music. All of these great composers were also great musicians, especially as pianists. Daniil Trifonov was playing the music which was made by and played by the best. He meets their music and brings his understanding to its complex beauties. He also plays on their level. He is there with the top seeded players. They know their game. Each one in his own way recreated playing. The program is an encounter of great pianists through nearly four centuries.

Jean-Philippe Rameau, Composer (1683-1764)

Jean-Philippe Rameau, Suite in A minor, RCT 5 (1729/30) has seven parts: Allemande, Courante, Sarabande, Les Trois Mains, Fanfarinette, La Triomphante, Gavotte et ses Doubles. The first three are named for the dances popular for 17th century composers, like JS Bach. They create a serious environment. This is for harpsichord virtuosi ready to play the multiple sounds of their tradition. However, with Trifonov at the keyboard, these have an enchanting delicacy. The next four parts are “character” music rather than from the dance forms. Les Trois Mains calls upon the pianist to move arms and hands as though he has a third hand, at least a third hand. Fanfarinette, a “small braggart,” teases the listener to follow the music. La Triomphate is bolder. The Gavotte conclusion branches into six complex variations all with transparent sounds of the main theme. James M. Keller writes that this piece may show that Rameau kept up with Handel’s developments and plays can-you-top-this. Handel had five variations, but Rameau has six. The fast, occasionally explosive, thoughtful music ends by drifting away. Other selections on the program also end with sound disappearing, gently, but in the outskirts of sadness.

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (1756-1791)

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart wrote three piano sonatas between July and November, 1783, all published in Vienna. The Piano Sonata in F-major apparently is the last of the group. While it begins with a relatively quiet, inward facing Allegro, it grows and puts forth melodies that have dramatic qualities. The second movement, an Adagio, also begins in an understated way which becomes full of expression without abandoning Classical restraint. The closing movement, Allegro assai tosses its hat and flings surprises to the audience. Just when the listener thinks she knows how the composer is feeling about music and life, he turns on a dime and releases astonishing changes of direction. The fascination stops short of hypnotic due to the excitement which Mozart creates and delivers without any hints or preparation. Despite the energy of the movement, this music also quietly evaporates.

Felix Mendelssohn, composer (1809-1847)

Felix Mendelssohn’s Variations Serieuses, Opus 54, is mind opening music. One may not take a break from listening; so much is happening in the brilliant piece. Yosemite Falls is a wonder. After rain or snow melt, the unbelievable happens: Yosemite Falls becomes even more impressive and inspiring. Mendelssohn’s twelve minute work is the musical Falls at its greatest. The fast rhythms become faster, daring the pianist and challenging the listener’s attention to sound. From sixteenth notes in the first variation, he moves to sextuplets, (Un poco piu animato –a little more animated)). Next there are staccato notes (Piu animato). More variations all filled by not one marvel of variation but it seems at least two at a time He finds syncopation, expressive passages; how many variations? eighteen. Each one is deeper in musical life developed and bursting with fire. Imagination on top of rhythm is woven into Time escaping, shaped by the composer’s call for poco a poco piu animato (little by little livelier and livelier). The super liveliness has seized Time, wound it higher into spirals of musical life which the composer, being an honest genius, then allows us to hear Time die away. It is another ending which drifts away like smoke, untraceable as life.

Daniil Trifonov, pianist

Through out the concert, Trifonov played with power, finesse, astounding speed, and still has ,heart left for expression. Part demon, part angel. He delicately caressed the keys in the Rameau as though he was bringing an inanimate thing to life. He may have channeled Mozart himself in the sonata. Trifonov did not shy away from taking Mozart’s Piano Sonata in F major that begins quietly into soaring, airborne changes of direction or altitude. As Rameau’s music was first for the harpsichord, could one state he was a master of the keyboards? I can imagine he was or he would not have written the Suite in A Minor. Both Mozart and Mendelssohn were known as master pianists, perhaps at a level above mere masters. Clara Schumann, renown as the star pianist of Europe before her marriage, wrote about Mendelssohn: “When all is said and done, he remains, for me, the most cherished pianist of all.”

Ludwig Van Beethoven, composer (1770-1827)

Now, there is the Hammerklavier. Beethoven’s Piano Sonata No. 29 in B-flat major is a world of mystery. Many consider it the most technically challenging of Beethoven’s piano sonatas; it is the longest, too. Its emotional life extends so far as one hears and feels in King Lear or experiences in an entire life. This writer/listener waited to write this brief account until she could listen to it again. The first movement, Allegro, is troubled, seems to dive into knots of thick ropes, climbs out, and then falls into more impediments: quick sand, rocky rubble, water that is deeper than it looks. Then, he, maybe it, stands up. The music finds him in a Scherzo which brightens the mood. It tries to play tricks on him, makes him jump over fallen branches, but he makes his way. It is not a jolly Scherzo, but it is Assai vivace (lively, vivacious enough) and travels away from the trials of the first movement Allegro. The third movement is a bleak ending though in the middle of the sonata’s life. Beethoven describes it Adagio sostenuto: Appassionato e con molto sentimento. It is sustained grieving, deeply felt and sounds like it cannot move forward, though this is the longest movement of any in Beethoven’s sonatas. It is nearly hopeless. It is nearly a prison cell without a window. It is beautiful but does not allow physical movement as imagined in the preceding movements. Feeling the passion of the Adagio, Beethoven will not abandon us, his listeners, or the spirit of his music. The final movement, Largo—Allegro risoluto (Fugo a tre voci) breaks away from the struggles, tricks, and grief of the other movements. Without an introduction we could notice, it leaps before us. Now there are windows and even a way into a garden. The music pays no more attention to the rigid ties it has left. How did it escape? It just took a step and, elated, revels in freedom.

The program began with Rameau’s Suite in A minor which includes Les Trois Mains and ends with Beethoven’s Fugo a tre voci, a fugue with three voices. The movement of hands and arms is so quick, crossing over, fingers flying that is looks like there must be more than two hands. The music is different, but supreme artists of the keyboard meet in their technique in this program. Rameau’s father was an organist; our composer, Rameau, was a music theorist and a professional organist until he was 49.

Mozart’s father was a violinist and “minor” composer. Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart began to compose at age 5, beginning with the harpsichord. He was acknowledged to be one of the best pianists in Europe. Mendelssohn was a child prodigy, similar to Mozart. He showed ability very early and took his first piano lessons from his mother, Lea Solomon Mendelssohn. His intellectual achievements in language and drawing led to the twelve year old Felix meeting Goethe; they became friends. In this program, Daniil Trifonov has had an intimate conversation with great pianists. The audience has heard and seen a very great artist of our time.

The performance could not end. The audience, amazed by all it had heard, would not stop applauding until Trifonov gave them more. There were two encores, each a splendidly original choice, and each one by a uniquely great pianist. The first was I Cover the Waterfront, written by Johnny Green & Edward Heyman, and as played by Art Tatum.

Art Tatum, pianist

Art Tatum was an astonishing pianist. His improvisations do everything; they will insert a new chord on each beat within one or two measures. Great pianists like Oscar Peterson and Bud Powell acknowledge Tatum’s influence. Few modern pianists would not adopt at least one of his “embellishments,” cascades of notes, rhythmic spurts, or weaving in and out of tempo. His “re-harmonization” of pop tunes became a regular practice among jazz musicians. This listener’s ears perked up when hearing the jazz sound of pop music from America’s ‘30s and 40s. Trifonov elegantly put on Art Tatum’s mantle. Fascination with the jazz chords and piling on of sounds took over.

Alexander Scriabin, composer (1872-1914)

More applause by the thrilled and greedy audience brought Trifonov back to play Scriabin’s Piano Sonata #3, the slow movement. Scriabin is known for his unique composition style now, but in the late 19th and early 20th centuries he was equally known as a virtuoso pianist. He performed in every important hall through Europe. One of his innovations was novel pedal effects. Trifonov brought Scriabin back as one of the greatest virtuoso pianists. Cheers for Trifonov’s presentation of the works of the towering pianists who came before him. The encores were a fitting homage to Tatum and Scriabin. Trifonov’s playing honored them all.

Beethoven & Anne-Sophie Mutter: Spectacular!, Part I

Anne-Sophie Mutter performed a recital of Beethoven Sonatas, January 26, and a chamber music concert of Beethoven Trios and a Quartet, January 27, at San Francisco’s Davies Symphony Hall. Two days of great music performed by great artists: proof that heaven can be here on earth.

Anne-Sophie Mutter, violinist, Lambert Okris, pianist

Ms Mutter was the main reason that Davies Hall was filled with avid fans. Those who did not know the pianist playing with her were in for an amazing treat. Mr. Okris is a superb, eye opening musician. He has performed with Ms Mutter for thirty years. He has also toured with Mstislav Rostropovich for more than eleven years. He performs as a guest artist with symphonies and specializes in both period instruments and contemporary works. The partnership of Ms Mutter and Mr. Okris lifts the character of their performance into the sublime. One could revert to out of date, show biz phrases and say there is no second banana here.

Anne-Sophie Mutter

The first of their three sonatas was Sonata for Piano and Violin No. 4 in A minor, Opus 23 (1801). It is a tightly focused, brilliant piece. The piano and violin have an interesting conversation, but each instrument has a mind of its own. The program note by James M. Keller refers to it as “repartee.” It is the kind of repartee one might expect from Katherine Hepburn and Spencer Tracy: not when they are cooing, but when they are lawyers on different sides of a case. Sharp and bright, the rhythms are surprising, always something unexpected. There was something new around each corner, and it had more corners than easy curves. Intricate and challenging, it was a complete delight.

Lambert Okris

Sonata for Piano and Violin No. 5 in F major, Opus 24, “Spring,” (1801) was fresh, bigger, very different from Opus 23. Beethoven seems to give himself more room to develop the innovative presentation of this sonata. The violin and piano are equals but it is the violin that takes the lead. While Beethoven did not give this sonata its nickname, “Spring,” it is fitting. The music suggests the weather is just right for an amble through the arboretum. We are pleased by the new leaves and early blooms which open us to nature as they open themselves to life. We do not hurry even though we want to see it all. The Scherzo shows the piano and violin meeting, deciding to dance together but not quite together until they whirl around in the middle of the movement. Closing with a Rondo, this sonata is all warmth and smiles, and was played above the artistic heights.

The Kreutzer sonata, Sonata for Piano and Violin in A major, Opus 47 (1802-03) is twice so long as either Opus 23 or Opus 24. It is symphonic in its breadth and power. The two instruments were able to reach the effects one might imagine only coming from a full orchestra. Beethoven makes the music run full tilt and stop suddenly. He plays with breath and rhythm, always challenging what the human heart and mind can do. Imagine a great ballet dancer leaping, spinning in air, and, in mid-spin, suddenly stopped. Body and mind are suspended. Just as suddenly as the pause began, an apparently reckless, headlong race begins again.

It was a privilege to be in the audience for this performance. This writer had known about Anne-Sophie Mutter, and this was our first time to hear her live. She is an extraordinary artist, full of power and grace. Beethoven & Anne-Sophie Mutter, Part II, appears in the next post.

Ms Mutter and Mr. Orkris satisfied the applauding, bravo-ing crowd with an encore. It was a selection by John Williams from the movie, Cinderella Liberty. Her latest recording is Across the Stars with adaptations of his movie scores made for her by Williams.

P.S. A fashion note: Through her career, Ms Mutter has been known for her beauty and her trademark strapless gowns. Her appearance in this recital did not disappoint. She wore a gown which could be every woman’s dream. Strapless, it had a full skirt which puffed away from her body. The skirt alternated matte black panels with panels which seemed to be laid over that matte silk. These were darker black, maybe velvet, maybe lace, with charming designs, maybe appliques, going up and down. A black ribbon around her waist was tied in a bow in the back. Her strapless bodice repeated the black and lace theme and appeared to be a layer over the base of the bodice. It had what I remember as a black lace ruffle at the top. I remember very long ago reading a review of a pianist. The writer criticized her for what she wore. I thought then and still think now that was a terrible thing to do. I believe commenting on a musician’s appearance is a dreadful faux pas. However, Ms Mutter and that dress defy the rule.