SA Symphony, Lang-Lessing, Torgul
A memorable night of ecstasy, joy and sweet moxie
May 2, 2009It’s a safe bet that among the most eagerly anticipated concert pairs of the San Antonio Symphony’s 2009-10 season will be that of Nov. 20 and 21, when Sebastian Lang-Lessing is booked for his second appearance as guest conductor and candidate for music director.
He certainly did a bang-up job his first time out on the Majestic Theater stage, May 1, in an all-German Romantic program. He and the orchestra opened with the Prelude and “Liebestod” from Richard Wagner’s “Tristan und Isolde” and closed with Robert Schumann’s exuberant Symphony No. 3, “Rhenish.” The centerpiece was Erich Wolfgang Korngold’s Violin Concerto in D, with symphony concertmaster Ertan Torgul the excellent soloist.
The initial impression of Lang-Lessing was clouded by his glacial tempo at the start of the “Tristan” prelude. The seven-beat silence after the woodwinds’ initial sigh was so extended that I feared the conductor might have been waiting to hop on a Houston Street light-rail train. But Lang-Lessing fully vindicated himself, with help from Wagner’s own testimony: The composer asks for these opening measures to be played not just slowly, but “slow and languishing.” The enervation at the start lent immense force to the gradual, inexorable stirring of desire that followed. The whole of the Prelude was ideally gauged -- the breast-heaving palpitations of phrasing and dynamics, the seamless flow, the luxurious surfaces, with especially gorgeous playing from principal oboist Mark Ackerman. The Liebestod was a shade less polished, but still well made.
Sometimes leaping into the air and always an exciting presence on the podium, Lang-Lessing brought tremendous energy, enthusiasm and joy to the outer allegros of the “Rhenish.” The second movement, which suggests a cheerily flowing river, moved a good deal faster than the moderate pace Schumann directed, but it gained a jocularity that was not inappropriate. Lang-Lessing seems to be more a big-picture conductor than a fuss-budget detail man, but the orchestra generally took care of the details handsomely. It has seldom sounded so spirited. The brass were in particularly fine fettle, and the horns earned an OMFG* for their amazingly unified work in the first movement.
Korngold’s concerto of 1946 is more than a little Hollywoody, as you’d expect from the German emigré who became one of America’s most successful film composers, and listeners of a serious bent might be put off by the pervasive gum-drop colorations from harp, celeste and tuned percussion. But Korngold was no mere Kitschmeister. Heard without prejudice, this is a strong, expertly crafted work, clearly influenced by Richard Strauss but more Modern in its means.
It was right up Torgul’s alley. His huge tone, like Korngold’s music, combined sweetness and moxie in equal measure. His incisive rhythms and his way of throwing himself bodily into a phrase suited the melodic contours in the first two movements and the swashbuckling athleticism of the finale. Torgul was rewarded with an unusually warm ovation from audience and colleagues, and he deserved it.
To judge from vociferousness (pediferousness? solefulness?) of the musicians' foot-stomping salute at concert's end, the orchestra liked Lang-Lessing a lot. So did I.
