Although 
          it has been 20 years since Sir Andrew Davis 
          last led the San Francisco Symphony, he seemed 
          right at home and the orchestra for its part 
          sounded as if it were ready to follow him 
          anywhere. Davis, once conductor of both the 
          BBC and the Toronto symphonies, now music 
          director of Lyric Opera of Chicago, drew rich 
          textures and big climaxes in the big works 
          that opened and closed the evening. Their 
          fireworks and dramatic intensity just made 
          the spare orchestration and otherworldly beauty 
          of countertenor David Daniels' singing in 
          the cantata Ich Habe Genug all the 
          more special. 
         
        
        Opening 
          with a flourish, Davis introduced his own 
          orchestration of the Passacaglia and Fugue 
          in C minor. Bach wrote it for organ and 
          Davis, himself an organist when he was a student 
          at the Royal College of Music, is only the 
          most recent to transcribe the piece for a 
          full-scale symphony orchestra. Most famously, 
          Respighi and Stokowski found the work's dense 
          textures irresistible, making big romantic 
          fantasies of it.
        
        These 
          are the first performances of Davis' version 
          which, on first hearing, seems more concerned 
          with reflecting the sort of voice mixing that 
          organists use to put their own stamp on a 
          performance. The first statement of the eight-bar 
          passacaglia theme, for example, is sounded 
          by piano, played staccato, and cellos, bowed 
          pianissimo. The sonic effect is like a strobe 
          flashing against a misty background. The instrumental 
          combinations change with each of Bach's 20 
          variations, first tossing the theme between 
          the cellos and basses, weaving the counterpoint 
          through the bass clarinet and bassoons, moving 
          into the higher woodwinds, doubling them with 
          the harp, and finally getting to the high 
          strings. Eventually, the brass enters in a 
          sustained passage that feels like a contrapuntal 
          chorale, and the passacaglia reaches a mighty 
          climax that shakes the hall like an organ 
          at full tilt.
        
        Davis' 
          orchestration through the complex fugue, which 
          is based upon the same eight-bar theme as 
          the passacaglia, is just as colorful. At times 
          I was put in mind of Webern's extraordinary 
          transcription of the Ricercare à 
          6, except that Webern tosses the ball 
          from instrument to another in mid-phrase where 
          Davis takes a more organic approach. In the 
          brightness and distinctness of instrumental 
          color, Davis' transcription is almost athletic, 
          like a dancer taking ever more audacious leaps. 
          The San Francisco Symphony responded to the 
          conductor's almost manic podium style with 
          playing of uncommon precision, building to 
          an enormous finish.
        
        Considerably 
          smaller forces -- four violins, two violas 
          and cellos, a bass, a harpsichord and a solo 
          oboist -- gave the Bach cantata an immediate 
          sense of intimacy. That was perfect for Daniels, 
          whose silken voice and supple phrasing gave 
          the arias a shimmer few vocalists can match. 
          His unerring intonation and free, easy coloratura 
          make the music feel totally natural, and his 
          sound is so pure and creamy that one easily 
          forgets that this is a man singing in falsetto.
        
        Davis 
          kept things moving without any sense of rushing. 
          William Bennett, the Symphony's principal 
          oboe, invested the wonderful opening melody 
          with a quietly soulful turn and then, as Daniels 
          picked it up, spun gorgeous arabesques around 
          the countertenor's sustained lines. In the 
          slower second aria, Daniels made the successive 
          repetitions of Schlummert ein ("Slumber 
          now") float ever higher, not in pitch but 
          in the delicacy of touch, and in the final 
          aria, Ich freue mich auf meinen Tod 
          ("I look with joy to my death") the interplay 
          between voice and oboe in the contrasting 
          middle section was nothing short of exquisite.
        
        Moving 
          from Bach to Dvorak could be jarring, but 
          the Symphony No. 7 is dark Dvorak, minor-key, 
          tragic Dvorak, more evocative of an ominous 
          forest than the wide-open spaces of his more 
          often-played works, and it balanced well with 
          the opening C-minor Bach on this program. 
          Davis threw himself into the music, and if 
          some of the pages went by with less inflection 
          than one could hope for, the finale built 
          to an inexorable climax.
        
        Davis 
          has an eye-catching presence on the podium. 
          He makes big gestures and there's a certain 
          athleticism in his body movements. The result 
          sometimes ramps up the music with more voltage 
          than might be necessary, but it's never dull. 
          This program was completely satisfying.
        Harvey 
          Steiman