As I entered the parking lot, I reminded myself to park next to an expensive car; makes me a lesser target. Once I found a BMW, I paid the parking attendant an excessive amount of money and entered the hall. Upon entering the building I was wondering why all of the signs were printed in very large fonts. Then I remembered that a majority of their audience are older folks with diminished eyesight. Once the program began, conductor Susanna Malkki, immediately started the first piece. Her jaunty movements did not seem to match the bouncy triumphant hero melody that the orchestra was playing, as if they were going to play however they wanted. Even though she was directing a beat ahead, she still looked as if she was swatting at a large killer bee. During slower sections of the piece, there were passages that were of soothing tempos, other times it felt as if she was pushing the orchestra back. There was a very exuberant clarinet soloist whose body movements were more of a jazz/blues clarinetist’s movement. At the end of the piece the return of the triumphant hero melody reminding us that this is still an exciting piece of music to hear.
Before the second piece begins you would think that the instrumentalists would tune to the piano, well that wasn’t so; there were some serous intonation issues between the trumpets and the piano. The rest of the concerto was pretty standard, nothing stood out making it great except for the triangle. Never before have I ever heard a triangle player have such an integral part. I wonder how many hours he spent practicing. As a bonus feature, pianist Peter Jablonski, after accepting a second round of applause plays an encore solo. The piece sounded as if he was trying to kill a mouse with the piano hammers. The A tonal qualities that came screaming out of the big black box on stage lead me to believe that this was a twentieth century piece. It sounded like one of those types of pieces that were written to show how fast a pianist can play minor second chords in succession. I’m pretty sure that all eighty-eight keys were struck at least one time or another.
The Tiensuu piece had a synthesizer playing some outer space like sound effects underneath the strings that seem to impose an image of fireflies. This piece called for muted trombones to play at the lower end of their range, and stringed basses looked as if they were holding their strings at the tuning keys giving an earth moving effect, like the pulling of the tide. The shrieking of the violas and violins were like katydids arguing. The deliberate striking of the strings sounded like an old carousel that was in desperate need of repair. The piece transition into an echoing chant between muted trumpets (as they should always be) and the strings and the flutes gave the appearance of the wind blowing through the autumn trees.
The first movement of the Strauss piece seemed uneventful, it sounded as if each member knew its part and like the workings of the body, each moving independently yet uniformly to the greater good of the whole. The piece moved through a disjunct brass section to a lyrical string section, showing the best attributes of both groups; both loud and articulate, and in opposition smooth and mild. It then moved into a traditional German waltz style section; the piece kept reinstating the subject several times, ever increasing the intensity of the mood. Then there was a slight intonation problem between the reeds and strings followed by a clarinet player swabbing his instrument out. It was interesting enough to see the timpani player meticulously checking and re-checking his pitches on the drum throughout the performance. The end of the performance was easy to spot, the conductor stopped directing a beat ahead and directed in time to control the holds and releases. To be honest, I find all of the pomp and circumstance of the whole going to see a performance unnecessary. The driving into a not so nice neighborhood, getting ripped off to park, paying too much for an eight ounce cup of ice with four ounces of drink, walking on floor boards around the atrium giving the feeling that at any moment they could give way, and the smell of embalming fluid. Yes, the smell of a funeral home envelops the hall because of it’s’ patrons. In ten years when these patrons are either no longer able to drive down to the hall or have the ability to hear the programs or even alive; this past time will be a thing of the past. For a generation that is used to instant gratification, waiting between songs to applaud the musician is an eternity. If you had a CD or MP3 player that took three minutes between songs, you’d throw it out. Much is the way I feel about waiting for the audience to stop clapping. When listening to the performance you can close your eyes and convince yourself that what you hear is a really good recording. The only difference is that you don’t have audience members rustling about. In conclusion, I am the type of person that would be happy to live in the woods without human contact for a year at a time. Because of that mentality, I would much rather listen to a recording of a performance in the privacy of my home. I understand there are those that believe a live performance is better; but having to go to Music Hall, though full of history and beauty, not worth the trip. I did enjoy the program; the music was played with precision. Seeing people I knew did make the experience more enjoyable. Going to see a performance might not be my cup of tea, but the performance its self was a good experience.
mrbortlein
