Martucci:
Piano Concerto No. 2 in B-flat minor, Op. 66 (1884-85), Verdi:
Ballet music from Macbeth (1864), Respighi: Feste romane
(Roman Festivals; 1928), Gerhard Oppitz (piano), New York Philharmonic,
Riccardo Muti, Conductor, Avery Fisher Hall, New York City, 27.01.2007 (BH)
Once again,
an evening occurs that introduces an audience to an unfamiliar
piano work well worth hearing now and then. Anyone
who enjoys big, romantic pianism (think Brahms or Busoni)
would find something to engage in Martucci’s Piano
Concerto No. 2, cannily chosen by Riccardo Muti in
his second week with the New York Philharmonic.
Gerhard Oppitz was the soloist, looking very professorial,
every inch the distinguished Martucci scholar and playing
this mammoth work from memory.
The opening Allegro giusto
is packed with charging, glittering virtuosity, capped
with a dramatic ending to a movement that is twenty minutes
long. The gentle string opening of the middle Larghetto
builds to great poignancy, which Oppitz delivered with
impressive concentration, totally immersed in the task
at hand. He is the polar opposite of demonstrative
players such as Lang Lang, and I suspect many in the audience
were impressed with his serious approach. The finale,
allegro con spirito, is filled with even more finger
treachery, all of which Oppitz dispatched as calmly as
if he were demonstrating the placidness of Satie.
The orchestra was right at his side, with Muti ensuring
that the balance was never upset (probably easy to do
here) and eliciting many moments notable for their quietude.
And as a touching aside, the program cites Feb. 21 and
24, 1911 as the most recent New York Philharmonic performances
of this piece, with someone named Gustav Mahler conducting
on Feb. 21, while battling a raging headache. It
would be his final concert – anywhere – as a conductor.
In Verdi’s Macbeth, the
Act III ballet comes shortly before the title character
encounters the three witches, with ominous ghosts portending
his fate. The waltz-laden excerpt seems reminded
me somewhat of the dances in Nino Rota’s Il Gattopardo,
which Muti has done on very fine recordings for Sony.
Verdi’s sweeping (and fun) interlude meshes perfectly
with Muti’s ability to use high dynamic contrasts for
dramatic effect, and he also encourages a rhythmic precision
that keeps the score’s effusive climaxes from turning
into treacle. The score, which had not been done
by the Philharmonic since 1957, also showed off the musicians
beautifully, all of whom seemed to be relishing the moment.
Respighi’s gaudy carousel, Feste
Romane, is prime Muti territory, and part of his brilliance
was to make much of it sound surprisingly modern.
In “Games at the Circus Maximus,” trumpets in the initial
fanfares were placed in Avery Fisher Hall’s second tier,
right up next to the stage, and their outbursts wouldn’t
have sounded out of place in a score by Varèse.
The strings and mandolin of “The October Festival” had
overtones of Copland, and even the “Jubilee” with its
ancient hymn somehow sounded more contemporary, with the
gong and chime outbursts evoking Arvo Pärt. The
sensationally sunny and raucous conclusion, “The Epiphany,”
might have pleased Charles Ives with its craggy blocks
that seem to bump into one another a bit clumsily, but
here the score sounded more bracing and original than
cheesy – quite a feat.
If nothing else, Respighi’s
tone poem is a riot of orchestral fire and color, which
Muti expertly shaped and dramatized, and I can’t imagine
a music lover not grinning at the fireworks he tossed
out in the last few minutes. At the end, with virtually
everyone in the room standing amid cries of “Bravo, Muti!”
he singled out many members of the orchestra for praise,
including ten percussionists (about seven more than are
usually found your average orchestral work). But
the musicians were singling out him as well, with
a display of bow-tapping, foot-stomping and general bonhomie
that showed an unmasked admiration.
I’m not the first to comment
on Muti’s apparent love affair with the Philharmonic.
He’ll be back at the end of the season for two more concerts
that include Cherubini, Beethoven, a concert performance
of Hindemith’s slightly obscure opera Sancta Susanna,
and Rossini, Schubert and Dvorák. If he is trying
to tell us that he likes coming here, I do believe a lot
of us are listening.
Bruce Hodges
