Haydn: Symphony No.
22 in E-flat major, "Philosopher,"
Hob. I:22
Poulenc: Concerto
in D Minor for Two Pianos and Orchestra
Shostakovich: Symphony
No. 10 in E-minor, Op. 93
Leave
it to an opera conductor – Antonio Pappano,
now at Covent Garden and making his New York
Philharmonic debut at these concerts – to
wring the maximum amount of drama from the
Poulenc Concerto, normally dispatched
a bit more frothily than it was here. With
the orchestra’s percussion players using castanets
to great comic effect and the giddy Labèque
sisters sailing along madly, the rest of the
orchestra sounded a little more explosive
than usual, perhaps rather "un-Poulenc-ian"
but exciting just the same. If in the final
Presto I feared the tempo was really
just too fast, the two soloists didn’t seem
to mind in the least, positively devouring
Pappano’s eyebrow-raising speeds and still
managing to keep the piano lines clear in
the texture. Acknowledging the applause, the
pair returned and seated themselves at a single
piano, tossing off an unusual and highly amusing
encore, the Polka for Piano Four-Hands
by Adolfo Berio (grandfather of Luciano),
that lasts fifty-seven seconds (at least,
on the Labèques’ recording of it).
Despite the work’s bravura requirements, at
one point Katia casually crossed her legs
and gazed out into the audience in mock boredom,
drawing gales of laughter from the crowd.
We could probably use a bit more of this kind
of humor in the concert hall.
Who
would have thought that during the evening
the piccolo would have such a sensational
day in the sun, but that is exactly what happened
after intermission in the Shostakovich Tenth,
with the Philharmonic’s Mindy Kaufman at her
most mesmerizing. Both the first and third
movements end with conspicuous – and in the
first movement conspicuously naked – roles
for this instrument, and she just did a fabulous
job. While Philip Myers also deservedly received
one of the loudest ovations for his piercing
horn work, to my ears it was Kaufman who stole
the show.
The
Tenth is one of the composer’s most
imposing works, with his signature "D-S-C-H"
motto appearing seemingly dozens of times,
climaxing in the final movement when the entire
orchestra issues it in unison at a fearsomely
loud volume level. Pappano got a terrific
response from the orchestra, despite (or perhaps
because of) his tendency to take parts of
the score much faster than usual. The beginning
of the savage Allegro, one of the most
virtuosic four minutes in symphonic literature,
apparently caught the orchestra just a trifle
off guard, and the ensemble seemed to need
just a few seconds for everyone to agree on
a tempo. But when everyone caught up, the
result was pure cyclone. The final measure,
a scale that rushes upward to an abrupt conclusion,
was done so cleanly, and ended so suddenly,
that for once during the evening the seemingly
nonstop coughing in the audience was silenced.
Also
impressive was the fiery yet even-toned work
from the Philharmonic’s brass players, and
(again) the orchestra’s percussion section
that negotiated all of the composer’s hurdles
with marvelous aplomb. The last movement had
the string sections working as if possessed,
coupled with amazing bassoon and clarinet
work leading into the final few minutes, all
of which left the audience no choice but to
summon out Pappano four times at the end.
The
opener was a charming Haydn symphony that
I did not know. Its unusual wind and brass
instrumentation uses only English horns and
French horns, and its introspective character
fits neatly with its "Philosopher"
subtitle. Actually, it was a fittingly philosophical
performance – a fine, thoughtful little appetizer
before the major adrenalin that began to flow
afterward.
Bruce Hodges
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