SEEN AND HEARD INTERNATIONAL

Wagner: Overture to Rienzi (1838-1840)
Magnus Lindberg: Clarinet Concerto (2002, U.S. Premiere)
Sibelius: Symphony No. 2 in D Major, Op. 43 (1901-1902)

 

How it has taken eight years for Magnus Lindberg’s Clarinet Concerto to reach these shores is beyond comprehension. Conductor Alan Gilbert, the New York Philharmonic, and clarinet wizard Kari Kriikku (for whom the piece was written) must be thanked over and over for giving the piece its United States premiere last night at Carnegie Hall. Writing with an eclectic mix of colors that could be Debussy, Brahms and Gershwin, perhaps mixed with some spectral influences, Lindberg has created a virtuoso fantasy pulsing with romantic orchestral washes, glistening arpeggios and huge, dramatic chords. The clarinet part weaves in and out, climaxing in a long cadenza with an arresting palette of sounds, such as high-pitched chirps and what sounded like loon calls. Near the end, a gigantic orchestral monolith materializes—a chord as cinematic as something lifted from a Clint Eastwood western.

Gilbert and the musicians wrestled up an inspired performance, capped by the amazingly poised Kriikku, who has now played the piece over 40 times. Kriikku cuts an impish figure for someone who turns 50 this year; he looks like a Boy Scout, albeit one who has received merit badges for performances of music that would terrify many performers. And make no mistake: he dealt expertly with Lindberg’s rocky landscape, which includes lyrical moments as well as wheezing multiphonics (i.e., humming while playing a note on the instrument). Whether rocking back on one foot, or letting his head nod in synch with some of the more earthshaking climaxes, he seemed completely at home, both with the music and with his colleagues. The cheering for Kriikku, for Lindberg (the orchestra’s current composer-in-residence), and for Gilbert and the orchestra was one of the most heartening scenes of the season.

The concert opened with another surprise: a performance of the hoary Rienzi Overture, one of Wagner’s works that may find its way into the concert hall a bit too often (meaning, taken for granted). But fast-forward to the end of this splendidly conceived performance, when my concert companion for the evening said she would be eager to hear Gilbert conduct an entire Wagner opera. With no score, Gilbert coaxed the lower strings into a spellbinding opening, leading to a stellar solo trumpet (Philip Smith, who was in outstanding form all night), paving the way for the entire brass section to show what it can do under prime circumstances. This reading had zip and panache, but also some mystery, as if an ancient, rugged story were being patiently retold.

Again with no score, Gilbert closed with a stirring, nuanced Sibelius Second Symphony, anchored by the Philharmonic’s shimmering strings. Sibelius loved woodwinds, and here Liang Wang’s oboe flights could have been worth the entire evening. The massed brass chorales were mostly pitch-perfect, with robust attacks resonating in the warm Carnegie acoustic. As in the Wagner, Gilbert showed an unerring instinct for choosing exactly the right tempi to let Sibelius’s waves gather, crest and disappear.

I agree with others: the New York Philharmonic now sounds even better than it did under Lorin Maazel, hard as that may be to fathom, given Maazel’s gene that emphasizes technical luster. Entrances and cutoffs are more tightly cued, pacing is spot-on, dynamic levels have greater range, and the overall sound of the group seems even more refined, almost Viennese. As one more gentle bit of evidence, Gilbert offered an encore: a tender, luscious reading of what is perhaps Sibelius’s best-known work, Valse Triste.

Bruce Hodges

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