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              SEEN 
              AND HEARD  INTERNATIONAL CONCERT REVIEW 
              
                
              
              
              Handel, A. Marcello, J.C. Bach, and 
              Rameau: Gary Thor Wedow, cond, Ben Hausmann, oboe, 
              Seattle Symphony, Benaroya Hall, 
              
              Seattle, 11.1.2008 (BJ) 
              
                
              
              
              Bernard Jacobson
               
              
              
              After enjoying Gary Thor Wedow’s conducting in two Seattle Opera 
              productions in the past year or so (Giulio Cesare and 
              Iphigénie en Tauride), I was disappointed for find him much 
              less convincing in this concert engagement, which he took over 
              from the previously announced Bernard Labadie for unannounced 
              reasons. His ability to draw clean, vibrato-less playing, and thus 
              some genuinely baroque sonorities, from orchestral strings 
              remained impressive, but in other respects the Seattle Symphony 
              was not to be heard at anything like its best.
              
              It may be that Wedow shows more physical restraint in the confines 
              of the opera-house pit. On the concert platform, at any rate, his 
              highly uneconomical gestural technique served only to make 
              ensemble a bit of a problem. He must have been very hard for the 
              players to follow, since almost every beat of his baton-less right 
              hand was mirrored by the left hand, in a fairly extreme example of 
              what Adrian Boult used to call “the Grecian-vase effect.” The 
              tactic was especially distracting in the frequent thrusting 
              accents of Johann Christian Bach’s G-minor Sinfonia (marking them 
              with both hands inevitably made them, if still dramatic, not 
              absolutely unanimous), and it is the kind of method that makes it 
              particularly difficult to get an orchestra to start a movement 
              exactly together.
              
              Perhaps this consideration lay at the root of other weaknesses, 
              not just in the Christian Bach but throughout the program, 
              though certainly other annoyances obtruded themselves. Handel’s 
              F-major Concerto grosso, Op. 6 No. 9, is an exhilaratingly tuneful 
              piece, but on this occasion the tunes were scarcely even audible, 
              which may have been simply a problem of balance; but the cluttered 
              textures may also have resulted from the use of a rather too large 
              body of strings. Then there was the lack of effective dynamic 
              contrast through most of the evening. Baroque music employs clear 
              distinctions between loud and soft: after the effectively hushed 
              opening of the Handel, this concert instead proceeded almost 
              unrelievedly at the loud and rather-loud levels, and this vitiated 
              the effect of principal oboist Ben Hausmann’s polished delivery of 
              the solo part in Alessandro Marcello’s C-minor Concerto for his 
              instrument.
              
              The most serious flaw of all, however, is one that cannot be laid 
              at Wedow’s door. The programming itself, presumably agreed 
              collaboratively by the orchestra’s artistic direction with the 
              originally engaged conductor, was incomprehensible, in that the 
              Marcello and Bach works, as well as the voluminous suite from 
              Rameau’s Dardanus that supplied the concert’s entire second 
              half, made up 22 movements set with few exceptions in minor keys. 
              Attractive as many of those movements were, and superficially 
              varied as were their tempos and rhythms, the prevalence of the 
              minor mode resulted by the end of the evening in a wearying 
              sameness of expressive tone. It seemed quite perverse, in the case 
              of Christian Bach, to have chosen a composer noted for his sunny 
              grace and freedom from his brother Emanuel’s penchant for dark 
              drama, and then to have hit on one of the most 
              uncharacteristically histrionic and somber of his works. Baroque 
              music can indeed be dramatic, rhetorical, hag-ridden, what you 
              will. But it can also –let me assure anyone unfamiliar with it who 
              found this a depressing evening–be a lot more fun.
 
