Debussy, Saariaho, Sibelius: Patricia Bardon, Mezzo-Soprano (New York Philharmonic debut), New York Philharmonic, David Robertson, Conductor, Avery Fisher Hall, New York City, 14.12.2006 (BH)

 

 

Debussy: Le Martyre de Saint Sébastien: Fragments symphoniques (The Martyrdom of Saint Sebastian: Symphonic Fragments) (1911/13)

Saariaho: Adriana Songs for Mezzo-Soprano and Orchestra (2006; United States Premiere)

Sibelius: Night Ride and Sunrise, Op. 55 (1908)

Debussy: La Mer: Trois esquisses symphoniques (The Sea: Three Symphonic Sketches) (1903-05, rev. 1910)

 

 

In one of his typically inspired programs, David Robertson set in motion a flowing menu uniting three of the 20^thcentury’s greatest talents, with examples from each showing off the New York Philharmonic at its most graceful.  In the languorous beginning of Debussy’s Le Martyre de Saint Sébastien, “The Court of the Lilies,” Robertson gently coaxed a subtle glow, with finely tuned dynamics from the musicians giving much pleasure.  The “Ecstatic Dance” that followed had nobility and a cultured sheen, with “ecstatic” per se arriving in “The Passion” as the orchestra swells to depict “Sebastian’s body riddled with arrows.”  The concluding “The Good Shepherd” returned to the calmness of the opening, and again Robertson was notable for eliciting delicacy after delicacy from each section of musicians.

Kaija Saariaho’s Adriana Songs, although texturally not too distant from the Debussy, are emotionally worlds apart.  Taken from her opera Adriana Mater (2006), these excerpts describe the title character’s rape during wartime, the child she bears as a result, and her subsequent torment as she wonders whether the child will resemble her, or be more like his violent father.  The four movements cover a great deal of emotional territory, all couched in Saariaho’s shimmering orchestral language, with the sole surge being in part three, “Rages (Furious Passions)” for the instruments alone.  Despite her good efforts, I wasn’t quite convinced that Patricia Bardon’s creamy mezzo-soprano was the right match with Saariaho’s ethereal flickerings.  But she gave an alert performance that was nevertheless a good preview of the entire opera, which I hope will arrive in New York sooner rather than later.

I doubt Sibelius would have appreciated this comparison, but his Night Ride and Sunrise has the relentlessness of accelerated Bruckner, at least in its opening.  Page after page (some 300 measures) of softly galloping rhythms could almost qualify as minimalism, but ponder that this was written almost 100 years ago.  Those in the audience who stuck with this obsessiveness were eventually rewarded with the Sunrise about halfway through, and Sibelius’ appearance of the sun is not the bravura fanfare of Also Sprach Zarathustra, but more of a hushed haze that gradually grows, as if depicting a world still slightly sleepy, despite the light.  Robertson’s restraint, coupled with keeping a tight rein on the orchestra during the borderline monotonous first half, made a strange piece strangely compelling.

Debussy’s La Mer was the ideal ending to the evening, echoing moments of the three other works but surging ahead of them in its crashing-against-the-rocks climaxes.  Whether in water lapping at the shore, or what sounded like currents spiraling in tiny eddies, the Philharmonic conjured up whorls of sound skimming by the ear like tiny schools of fish.  The triumphant ending, with its spectacular writing for trumpets and woodwinds, was as joyous as a day at the beach, all carefully put in place by Robertson with a minimum of podium choreography.

 

 

Bruce Hodges