Respighi, Wuorinen and Vivaldi: Orpheus, Sarah Chang (violin), Robert Ingliss (oboe), Alan Kay (clarinet), Stewart Rose (horn), Carnegie Hall, New York. 10.5.2008 (BH)

Respighi: Gli Uccelli (The Birds) (1928)

Wuorinen: Synaxis (2007) (World premiere, Orpheus commission)

Vivaldi: Le Quattro Stagioni (The Four Seasons), Op. 8, Nos. 1-4 (1725)


"If I heard Respighi played like this more often, I might become a fan," said my non-Respighi-craving friend, whose partial conversion came during this exquisitely played evening by Orpheus at Carnegie Hall.  In Gli Uccelli (The Birds), Respighi's neoclassic side comes to the fore in this compact jewel of a suite, starting with a theme by Bernardo Pasquini (1637-1710), which introduces the title's four species.  "The Dove" features a lyrical oboe part, here done by the superb Robert Ingliss, using a theme by Jacques de Gallot, a 17th-century French lutist.  A frantic string motif defines "The Hen," with the ensemble depicting the title bird's scurrying character, followed by the lyrical pairing of flute and low strings for "The Nightingale."  The finale, "The Cuckoo," combines the bird's typical call with a broadly scored return to the opening theme.  The freshness awarded this piece was pretty much irresistible.

Due to a death in the family of bassist Donald Palma, for whom Charles Wuorinen wrote the first movement ("earth") of Synaxis, the group decided to perform just the remaining three movements, reflecting fire, water and air, in a "semi-world premiere," or perhaps a preview of 2009, when the group will program the entire piece.  Wuorinen combines the four elements—earth, fire, water and air—with the story of Orpheus.  The second part, "Solo for Horn," has a rapid opening with charging rhythms and intervals stacking up in pillars.  Stewart Rose was the soloist, sailing over the turbulence elsewhere, and excellent in a brief coda before the movement rushes to its conclusion.  Mr. Ingliss again showed sinuous tone against a wall of shimmering high strings in the "Solo for Oboe," reflecting water (or tears) in what almost sounds like a funereal passacaglia.  The final "Solo for Clarinet," nimbly played by Alan Kay, returns to the jittery opening tempi, with a nervous, improvisatory feeling depicting Orpheus's escape from the Maenads.  Despite the sad absence of Mr. Palma, the group brought focus and verve to Wuorinen's luminous score, and I'll be interested to hear all four parts.

Violinist Sarah Chang, resplendent in a hot pink and chartreuse gown, was the star engine of Vivaldi's Le Quattro Stagioni, given a gripping and finely honed reading.  It's probably been thirty years since I've heard this chestnut live, and if it were propelled like this all the time, with such manicured detail, I'd probably seek it out more often.  "Spring" had some suave contributions by the ensemble, with Chang frisky and energetic, and all using carefully shaded dynamics: soft passages were perfectly balanced without being inaudible.  A metallic, wiry tone gave the slow movement of "Summer" a haunting, skeletal quality, but when more force was called for, Chang positively lunged into the bristling finale: standing in the center of the ensemble, she waltzed around leading the charge with spirited, gutsy attacks.  Yet with each pause, the group's elegant resonance hung in the air, and by the time we reached "Winter's" furious conclusion, I was regretting taking this masterwork perhaps a tiny bit for granted.

Bruce Hodges

Back to Top                                                    Cumulative Index Page