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The Boston Musical Intelligencer |
by Lee Eiseman |
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Konzert, Boston, 27. September 2014 |
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Substantial Froth Celebrates New Maestro
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Coming after some years of anxiety over the leadership of the orchestra, the
debut performance of Andris Nelsons as 15th music director in the Boston
Symphony Orchestra’s 134 years heralded a welcome return to normality and,
hopefully, developing greatness. Yet programmatically it was a bit odd, to
say the least, that the new maestro introduced himself to us with a strange
potpourri that did little to strike up the band until the last piece.
The event was worthy of a national stage, demanding the notice of PBS.
The extra-brilliant lighting, exuberant camera-crane operator, and traveling
cam within the orchestra announced that the world was watching. This came at
some cost to Nelsons’s “dear friends” in Symphony Hall, though. We were
distracted by all the motion, and the hall’s celebrated quiet was marred by
the equipment-cooling fans—a real shame, since Nelsons held the players to
some of the finest pianissimos this writer has ever heard from the BSO.
For his debut work as BSO music director, Nelsons turned to the first
classical work that had engaged him as a child. The overture to Tannhaüser,
heard so much more often than the opera that follows, is now something of an
oft-transcribed cliché. An exercise in relentless crescendoing, it does not
always succeed as pure music. Perhaps if it had been performed in a darkened
hall with the lights coming up in lieu of the main act curtain, some of the
gauzy mystery upon which opera thrives would have been realized. But the
exigencies of broadcasting prohibited such theatricality, as did the fact
that the houselights never dimmed throughout the evening, in order that
audience reactions could be televised. This took focus from the stage and
the musicmaking. Nelsons’s performance was clean and alert to the last
stand. Eyes were on the conductor and the execution must have been all he
could have hoped for. Yet the question persisted—why this calling card?
Germany’s greatest tenor, Jonas Kaufmann, made a dramatic entrance onto
the doubly extended stage for the second installment of the all-Wagner first
half. After a positively glorious messa di voce introduction, his tone rang
out heroically in “In fernem Land” from the third act of Lohengrin, and to a
person the audience was at his feet in gratitude for the passionate account,
even as an early bravo shattered our reverie.
Latvia’s greatest
soprano, Kristin Opolais, sat dutifully onstage through a somewhat less than
ecstatic, albeit beautifully detailed, Prelude to Tristan und Isolde.
Conducting much of the time from a crouch, Nelsons was busy shaping and
cuing, seeming less interested in beating time. From section to section, the
playing was exquisite, with a fine and fluidly flexible line. We truly
admire how the BSO plays for the maestro.
Opolais has announced that
she wishes to play Isolde, but from her covered tone and husbanding of
resources in the “Liebestod” last night, this is not promising.
The
second half moved to sunny Italy as Kaufmann returned in extravagant
Italianate spinto voice for “Mamma, quell vino è generoso” from Calvalleria
Rusticana. He completely embodied the role of Turiddu with ringing top and
emotional projection. His anticipation of death was the dramatic engagement
of the evening. Invite him back for an entire program!
Why the famous
subsequent Intermezzo from the same opera appeared only after the
interruption of the substituted “Un bel di” from Madama Butterfly was a
programming mystery. Following costume change, Opolais came to us with this
saddest of songs. Singing now from memory with lots of imploring gestures,
she gave us an intimate, conversational account through most of her range,
and with some authentically powerful projection from the top. However, it’s
hard to put this aria across out of context, without the introduction from
Suzuki, and the trappings of the stage.
This was followed with a
planned encore, a la Pops. “O soave faciulla” from La Boheme came across as
celebrity duet. Nicely sung and with good interaction, it featured another
superb floated messa di voce from Kaufmann; while stylistically he might
have been better-partnered with a Tebaldi, there was the start of chemistry
here.
Finally we got the Mascagni Intermezzo as the sterling example
of how the BSO might play for Nelsons. The strings adopted a sweeter tone
and delicacy not heard earlier. But even as supported by the pealing BSO
organ, the piece is something of a downer, so why program it on a festive
night?
The vocal fireworks culminated with the duet “Tu tu, Amore”
from Manon Lescaut. Starting with some funny stage business, we soon got the
first genuinely vivid opera scene. Opolais, now in excellent voice, and
Kaufmann, dramatic and burnished as he was all night, gave something extra,
evidently goaded by each other’s performance. The curtain call included mock
jealousy over Kaufmann’s embrace of the wife of the new conductor. [hear
sound sample from BSO by clicking below, noting that the closely miked
voices sound more forward than they did in the room]
For the closer a
feast of Respighian colors and effects was served up, orchestra and maestro
in fine form as a glowing augury of the partnership all can expect. PBS
loved it as well, with the crane camera prancing and the stage cameraman
highlighting every solo—which were numerous and fine. The camera
particularly loved harpist Jessica Zhou, being often in her face. But a
shadowy question dimly arose: was the performance of Pines of Rome
conceivably about anything other than orchestration and nostalgia for the
grandeur of faded empire? A nod to the more imperial new Italy, or to an
America newly leading allies into yet another battle? Emphatically no. This
was a vehicle to showcase the BSO as an instrument of the very highest
quality, cajoled, manipulated and presided over by an aspiring genius at the
podium, who deferred to the dozens of remarkable musicians whose individual
contributions he acknowledged with real gratitude.
After this frothy
demonstration that the BSO can really play for Nelsons, we’re relieved that
his next nine concerts will concentrate more on deeper music, less on
celebrity sparklers.
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