Gardner and Gerstein at Severance

An alarmingly small audience greeted guest conductor Edward Gardner as he walked onstage at Severance Hall last night – the house was approximately half-full.  Why the small audience was a bit of a mystery: Both Schumann and Dvořák are relatively popular composers.  Perhaps people were cautious about attending a live event due to the recent surge of flu and RSV cases.  I’d hate to think that Cleveland’s music lovers only turn out for big-name guests like Michael Tilson Thomas.  For those who missed out, it was their own loss. 

As has been customary recently, the concert included a work by a living composer, Ringed by the Flat Horizon by George Benjamin – composed in 1980 and receiving its first performances in Cleveland this weekend. The piece featured several dissonances made interesting by the juxtaposition of contrasting instruments.  The woodwinds and percussion were effectively used here, and there was an impressive cello solo by principal Mark Kosower.  Unfortunately, an elderly couple seated in our row (W) distracted us with their conversation.

Musically and pianistically speaking, Kirill Gerstein is one of today’s most versatile performers.  He has technique to burn (but never shows off), and his taste in repertoire has led him to music as diverse as Rachmaninoff, Gershwin’s Rhapsody in Blue, and tonight’s offering, Schumann’s only Piano Concerto.  A number of well-known pianists, including renowned performers of Schumann’s solo output, never bothered with this concerto – and it has never been my favorite.  The work, too often drowned by pianists in mawkish sentimentality, was given an especially fine performance last night, with crisp tempos, sustained phrasing, judicious mixing of inner voices, and a sense of structure that is often overlooked in Schumann.  Gardner and the orchestra provided a collaboration that belied the notion that Schumann’s orchestration is weak.  The audience leapt to its collective feet and provided a sustained and loud ovation that was in contradiction to its small numbers.  Gerstein gifted the audience with an encore: Busoni’s arrangement of J. S. Bach’s “Rejoice, beloved Christians,” delivered at a tempo that left Horowitz in the shade.   

Like Gerstein, the Cleveland Orchestra has long been known for versatile musicianship.  But it would be anti-historical to deny that the orchestra has long been prized for its performances and recordings of the music of Antonín Dvořák.  The recordings of the composer’s last three symphonies and Slavonic Dances with George Szell and Christoph von Dohnányi are rightfully legendary, and even the old 78rpm recording of Dvořák’s Sixth Symphony with Erich Leinsdorf is praiseworthy.  While the composer’s Ninth Symphony (“From the New World”) remains the composer’s most popular, the Seventh takes the prize when it comes to traditional symphonic structure.  The tunes aren’t as catchy as in the later work, but Dvořák’s treatment of them is in the best tradition and worthy of Beethoven and Brahms (the later of whom had a bit of a bromance with his Czech colleague).  Gardner’s spare, straightforward approach, which emphasized clear textures and utilized sensible tempi with rubato only when warranted, supported the assertion that the work is a true masterpiece.  Again, the audience responded enthusiastically, and I remarked to Daniel that Gardner should be put under consideration when it comes time to select Franz Welser-Möst’s successor.   

It was heartwarming to see an assistance dog at Severance – from whom not a peep was heard during the concert.

Widmann and Strauss at Severance

Conductor Daniel Harding and violist Antoine Tamestit were the featured guests at Severance Hall this weekend.  But Harding strode on stage without the soloist to begin the concert’s first work, Jörg Widmann’s Viola Concerto, as Tamestit was already seated in a concealed area of the stage from which he emerged shortly after the work began.  The Concerto, finished in 2015, relies heavily on choreography as the soloist makes his way to musically converse and combat with other instruments (placed unconventionally) during the course of the work’s 25 minutes.  The problem for this listener, or perhaps I should state observer, was that the on-stage antics, which included the Tamestit brandishing his viola bow like a sword and even shouting, became more memorable than the music itself.  This was less a concerto than performance art in search of a genuine musical idea.  As the performance progressed, I noticed several audience members playing with their phones and, surprisingly, it was those same members who I observed applauding the most enthusiastically at the work’s conclusion.  An encore was not offered. 

The audience was noticeably larger for the concert’s post-intermission work, Richard Strauss’s An Alpine Symphony. The Strauss work dates to 1915, 100 years earlier than the Widmann, but seems timeless.  Harding and the orchestra presented the work in all its awe-inspiring majesty, from the mystery of Nacht to the terror of Gefahrvolle Augenblicke, everything was heard with a multi-layered clarity and burnished tone that marked the antithesis of the flabby sogginess that marks too much Strauss playing.      

Ontario, Quebec, New England in October

Dan and I had originally planned to travel to Europe for our October vacation, including stops in London, Paris (where our friend Gerardo Teissonnière gave a recital), and Berlin.  Various factors made that trip impractical, so we decided to remain within driving distance.  Our trip took us into Ontario, Quebec, and New England before we headed home.

We began our journey on Sunday so I could complete some quick regrouting of our shower stall on Saturday, allowing it to dry while we were away. Sunday was a quick drive to Niagara Falls, Ontario, during which my GPS routed us off the toll roads and onto US-20, allowing us to drive through some attractive wine country.  We also drove through Fredonia, New York, where my maternal grandfather and his parents are buried.  I first saw Niagara Falls from the New York side during the 1980s, and the Canadian side was the site of my first trip with Daniel back in 2006.  The Falls themselves haven’t perceptibly changed, but the town is as touristy and vulgar as ever.  As medicinal and recreational Cannabis are now legal in Canada, the scent of marijuana wafted into our nostrils as we walked along Clifton Hill.  The crowds were denser than we expected and we learned Sunday evening that the next day was Canadian Thanksgiving.  Learning of this, we decided to change our drive to Toronto the next day, avoiding the highway and taking the smaller roads that wrapped around Lake Ontario. 

The obligatory Niagara Falls panorama

The obligatory Niagara Falls selfie

Clever juxtaposition of Cannabis and food

Don't even try to bring it over the border.

Fortunately, there were numerous restaurants open in Toronto that night and we settled on Si Lom Thai where we had an enjoyable dinner.  Our one full day in Canada’s largest city was spent at the Art Gallery of Toronto, snapping pictures at the Toronto sign, and bar-hopping in the Church and Wellesley neighborhood, which is sadly becoming encroached by developers.  Still, we had a fun time at Woody’s where bartender Chris poured the drinks, regaled us with stories, and even gave Dan & me a pair of souvenir t-shirts.  Cannabis use in Toronto was even more prevalent than in Niagara Falls.  One could simply not escape the smell of reefer.

The obligatory foodie pic

Thought provocation at the Art Gallery of Toronto

It's Toronto!

It's really Toronto, eh?

Public art in Toronto

Neither an endorsement nor a condemnation.

On Wednesday we departed Toronto for the five-hour drive to Montreal.  Here is where it became obvious that Canadian highways are better maintained than their US counterparts.  There wasn’t a pothole to be found on the whole stretch of our journey.  Rest areas were in plentiful supply, and the lower speed limit (100 kilometers, or 62 miles per hour), made for a pleasant drive and better mileage. Normally I am a bit of a lead-foot on highways, much to Dan’s consternation, but I wasn’t about to speed as a foreigner. 

Montreal is in Quebec, which uses French as a primary language.  Dan spent months learning French on the Duolingo app, but whenever he uttered a phrase in French, whoever he was speaking with would immediately reply in English, rendering his studies superfluous.  We spent much of Thursday strolling through the Port, the Latin Quarter, and the Gay Village.  That evening we treated ourselves to poutine at Emilia and spent as much of our Canadian cash as we could at Bar Le Stud. 

Arrête, au nom de l'amour

No explanation required.

Friday morning we packed the car and headed to Ogunquit, Maine, which I hadn’t visited since 1994.  Since moving back to Ohio that year, I’ve returned to New England several times, including four visits to Provincetown.  Both Ogunquit and P-town have reputations as gay-friendly destinations.  But while P-town has become synonymous with parties and circuit queens, Ogunquit is far less “in your face” while still obviously being an LGBT+ destination for those seeking relaxing fun.  Rainbow flags were everywhere to be seen even though the tourist season was mostly over.  Halloween decorations of every kind were to be displayed outside private homes, restaurants, and hotels/B&Bs.  Dan & I had some fine meals, enjoyable drinks, and walked them off on the town’s beachside Marginal Way. We also took a few hours off at the local cinema to see a dark film entitled “Don’t Worry, Darling.”  By the end of that day Dan & I were mostly travelled out and ready to return to home and hearth.  Be it ever so humble… 

Obligatory pano #2

Drinks at the bar

Dan & I after too much food & drink

Boulez, Stravinsky, and Saint-Saëns at Severance

A sparse audience greeted guest conductor Thierry Fischer when he strode on stage at Severance last night.  As Daniel and I generally attend orchestra concerts on Saturday evenings, I can’t authoritatively comment on whether the lack of attendance was due to the day of the week or the program – but was likely a combination of both. 

The concert began with Pierre Boulez’s Notations, begun as solo piano pieces in the 1940s, then orchestrated decades later.  Boulez was known for his long association with the Cleveland Orchestra.  Beginning at the invitation of George Szell in 1965, he served as principal guest conductor and musical advisor in the years following Szell’s death in 1970.  He made numerous recordings with the orchestra, most of very high quality, over the course of 40 years.  But, as Arthur Rubinstein said of Rachmaninoff the pianist versus Rachmaninoff the composer, I value Boulez’s work as conductor more than his compositions.  Not one of his works have entered the standard repertoire and, nearly seven years after his death, that fact shows no signs of changing.  Notations was 15 minutes of loony tunes cartoon music from Hell, with entirely predictable dissonance for the sake of same – immaculately performed, of course. 

The next work was Stravinsky’s Violin Concerto, lavishly played by Leila Josefowicz (substituting for Vilde Frang, who was unable to appear due to “travel complications”).  For those who pay attention to such things, she was dressed in a flowing gown which, deliberately or coincidentally, resembled the colors of the flag of Ukraine.  Unlike Boulez, Stravinsky’s works enjoyed popular success by the time he was middle-aged.  Some works, including ballets like Rite of Spring and Firebird, are now repertoire staples.  Others, including the Symphony in Three Movements and the Violin Concerto, hover on the outer edges of the standard repertoire.  But they are highly listenable, and the Violin Concerto in particular is meticulously constructed.  Josefowicz brought a solid technique, burnished tone, and tasteful expressivity with discreet vibrato to the performance.  She was recalled to the stage several times but there was no encore. 

Following intermission was the evening’s most popular work, Saint-Saëns’ so-called “Organ Symphony.”  This was my first time hearing the work in performance, although I have several recordings including the legendary Boston Symphony/Munch version.  The work is popular not merely because it’s a “sonic spectacular”, but because it dovetails symphonic construction with tunefulness and craftsman-like orchestration.  Fischer and organist Todd Wilson brought a sense of musicality to the piece which is often lacking, and I was reminded just how well composed this symphony is.  Yet the performance was not lacking in excitement – with the audience leaping to its feet after the performance – and a loud ovation that belied the audience’s small numbers.

We in Cleveland are doubly lucky that Christoph von Dohnányi (music director from 1984–2002) shepherded the turn of the century renovation of Severance Hall which included the restoration of the hall’s Skinner Organ – otherwise a convincing performance of this work would not have been possible here.