|
SA Symphony with Boyd, Kirshbaum:
A generous Dvorak concerto, a soaring Brahms Third
February 9, 2008
The San Antonio Symphony's audience on Friday spent a luxurious evening
in the company of cellist Ralph Kirshbaum, guest conductor Douglas Boyd
and a standard program played to the hilt.
It would be hard to imagine a more generous account of Antonin Dvorak
concerto -- generous both in Kirshbaum's big-hearted, rhythmically free
performance and in the huge, lively, open sound of his instrument.
(Domenico Montagnana made it in Venice in 1729.) This was personal,
high-stakes playing all the way through, and unabashedly Romantic in
style: Kirshbaum used portamento without embarrassment, but also
without excess. Some might have found Kirshbaum's vibrato a little wide
at times, but it generally suited the music. Few would gainsay his
subtle dynamic shadings and rich color palette.
Boyd, born in Glasgow and now residing in London, is quickly gaining a
major international reputation, with posts in Manchester, Saint Paul
and Denver. In his San Antonio debut he passed an acid test of
conducting technique and analytical intelligence, Brahms's Symphony No.
3 in F, with flying colors.
It's a hard piece to figure out because there's so much going on --
conflicting rhythms, complex counterpoint, leaping harmonic
modulations, interlocking and overlapping phrases, ingenious ideas by
the carload. It's the most intricately constructed of Brahms's
symphonies, but also possibly the most unified as a total system. It's
one of the 19th century's greatest intellectual achievements, and an
extension into the realm of music of the systemic complexity that
characterized its period -- the layering of vast new communications and
transportation systems, the virtuosic complexity of industrial
machinery, the intricately engineered steel structures, increasingly
large and complex organizations.
And yet the Brahms Third is also, and primarily, music. The trick is to
sort through the morass of stuff in the score to find and expose the
narrative line, the direction of flow, the gravitational attraction of
the final cadence of each movement. All the details have to be
expressed, but they can't be allowed to congeal. The reputation for
heaviness that Brahms's music has acquired is not a reflection on his
scores, but on too many of their interpreters. The score of the Third
is indeed dense with detail, but in the same sense that the Eiffel
Tower is dense with steel members. The structure soars.
And it certainly did in Boyd's fleet, fluid, rhythmically vital,
cleanly delineated account. One could quibble here and there. The
performance was too aggressive at times, especially in the finale --
although it was awfully exciting -- and Boyd sometimes pushed the
understaffed violins to play louder than they comfortably could. But
evidence of intensive study and deep understanding abounded. Brahms's
harmonic modulations often were underlined with subtle shifts in tempo
or sculpting of phrases. Balances were full but transparent. Boyd had a
wonderful way of making those overlapping phrases dovetail -- a trait
that also served well the concert's opening piece, Mozart's overture to
"The Magic Flute."
The violins didn't sound as smooth and clean as they had last weekend
under Christopher Seaman, but they weren't bad. The lower strings had a
splendid night, and the brass and woodwinds were radiant.
Mike Greenberg
|
|