I confess that this
entirely commendable concert, which I had been anticipating all week,
left me slightly disappointed -- only because in recent years the heady
experiences with this often-brilliant conductor and his splendid group
have given me a huge amount of pleasure. As Gergiev strode out, dressed
in his trademark black shirt and jacket, the audience acknowledged his
reputation with a loud ovation as he took his place -- interestingly,
standing squarely on the floor without a traditional podium. Whatever
his intention, it was a gesture that seemed to create a more direct,
immediate feel, both with the audience and no doubt with the orchestra.
A serene and majestic
opener, Wagner's Prelude to Act 1 of Lohengrin made me highly curious
to hear Gergiev's complete Ring cycle, which he premiered last summer
in St. Petersburg and will do in Baden-Baden in January 2004. Although
the conductor has resolutely made his mark in Russian repertoire, he
clearly loves Wagner and this care was summoned here as well.
I am probably not
the best person to comment on Lalo's Symphonie Espagnole, a piece that
generally leaves me cold. But in this case, it would be hard to stay
frigid when the violinist is Maxim Vengerov, in my book one of the top
two or three violinists in the world. This performance included the
middle "Intermezzo" movement, often omitted, but most welcome;
even a Lalo Grouse like me couldn't figure out why someone would not
want to include it. Throughout, Mr. Vengerov appeared to be almost chuckling,
dashing through the sometimes staggeringly difficult skittering passages,
as if daring any of us to dispatch them with similar ease. This was
a gutsy performance that was often just plain fun. Further, he often
seemed to be playing like two completely different violinists. His tenderness
during the penultimate "Andante" was delicious, but in the
final "Rondo" he seemed to change into a more spiky character,
and added even more ferocity.
In the ever-popular
Scheherazade, there were gorgeous moments throughout, but the performance
made me mull over what I had discussed with friends last week about
Lorin Maazel (Hartke and Mahler), and
the opinion of some who feel he occasionally pulls the musical line
out of shape. I'm not sure I agree with the assessment of Maazel, but
I felt some of that tendency last night. Somehow the performance just
never soared, despite Gergiev's confidence in launching into the dramatic
unison opening, and some vivid work by the orchestra. The guest principal
violin, Ilya Konovalov, was pretty rapturous, with his sweetly expressive,
meditative solos filling the warm Carnegie space. His success was especially
notable since he was given the daunting assignment of following Vengerov,
whose fireworks just a few minutes earlier were no doubt still ringing
in the ears of many listeners. But the first two sections of the piece
had a few ensemble intonation problems here and there, and somehow seemed
slightly stalled, although the final chord at the end of "The Tale
of the Kalendar Prince" was nailed with a visceral precision.
By the time we arrived
at "The Young Prince and the Young Princess," with a somewhat
slower tempo than usual, the orchestra seemed a bit more comfortable
and relaxed. The cello section sang, really outdoing itself here. Gergiev
launched into the final "Festival at Baghdad" at a speed that
astonished me; I didn't think the orchestra could maintain definition,
but I was mistaken, and there were again many fine effects, with some
particularly haunting clarinet and flute work. The enthusiastic percussion
players also seemed to be having a grand time in "The Ship Wrecked
on a Rock Surmounted by a Bronze Warrior," with gleaming gong and
cymbals. But overall the performance seemed merely good, rather than
spectacular. (Having just heard this group over the summer
sounding glorious in operas at Lincoln Center, I know they are capable
of astonishing heights.)
Gergiev is known
for his ambitious scheduling, and is currently conducting La Traviata
at the Metropolitan Opera in between these performances. Whether this
demanding routine is fatiguing or invigorating him seems unclear at
the moment, but in any case, he remains overall one of the world's most
electric conductors. I am hoping that the next two concerts -- the first
with Shostakovich's Leningrad Symphony and then Prokofiev's complete
Romeo and Juliet -- may prove even more compelling.
The opening night
audience was remarkably considerate. As Konovalov and the orchestra
floated Scheherazade's final chords, Gergiev held his hands aloft in
blissful silence for a few seconds -- and not even a cough, anywhere
in the hall. Only when he relaxed his arms did the applause begin. I
wish there a way to encourage more of this behavior! Then two trumpet
players sneaked onstage -- background activity that always makes me
smile since it indicates more music is coming up. Not many conductors
seem to bother with encores any more, at least here in New York, but
Gergiev is usually very generous in this regard. It's a tradition I
greatly enjoy, and on this night we got the famous waltz from Tchaikovsky's
Sleeping Beauty.
Bruce Hodges
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