Weber, Zehavi, and Brahms at Severance

Guest conductor Fabio Luisi, making his Cleveland Orchestra debut this weekend, presided over this evening’s concert at Severance Hall, which was rich with musical nourishment of traditional and newer varieties.  

The concert opened with the popular Overture to Oberon by Carl Maria von Weber, one of his final compositions and easily one of the most perfect overtures ever written.  The gorgeous, hushed horn solo which opened the piece was a harbinger of good things to come.  As the work proceeded and the slow introduction segued into the adventurous middle section, Luisi led the festivities with a sure hand, sans baton. 

The novelty on the program was Oded Zehavi’s Aurora, Concerto for Piccolo and Chamber Orchestra, receiving its world premiere this weekend – some four years after a version with piano and percussion accompaniment was premiered at the Cleveland Institute of Music.  The soloist was the orchestra’s principal piccoloist Mark Kay Fink.  The work opens with a slow, ethereal passage in the strings before the piccolo enters and offers commentary which floats above the orchestra.  From there the listener experiences a variety of tempi and dynamics, with moments of whimsy alongside darker passages.  The composer’s skillful orchestration - including chimes, vibraphone, and wood blocks – provided additional color while never overshadowing the soloist’s well-turned contribution.  The raucous applause Fink received upon her initial entrance was repeated at the end.  The composer was present and shared in the bows.

Following intermission, Luisi returned to lead Brahms’ Symphony No. 4 in E minor, Op. 98.  This happens to be one of my five favorite Symphonies (the others are Mozart 41, Beethoven 7, Schubert 9, and Rachmaninoff 2).  It balances perfect musical architecture with profound emotion.  Luisi approached the opening movement with unhurried, inexorable logic which built organically to the coda’s climax.  The slow movement sang with the nobility that is the essence of Brahms’ greatest works.  The jollity of the scherzo never descended into indignity, and the trio was unusually held back in tempo, so the return of the faster section was all the more shocking.  Doubtless to prevent the audience from breaking into spontaneous applause, Luisi did not pause after the scherzo and immediately launched into the final movement.  As with some of Beethoven’s late works, Brahms looked backward and resurrected an old musical form for the finale: the passacaglia.  Here Luisi was notably flexible in tempo, holding the reins tight with some variations and surging forward with others.  But the tempi never seemed imposed, but rather organic as the movement completed one of Brahms’ most courageous musical decisions: ending the symphony in a minor key.  Throughout the entire symphony, Luisi took especial care with balance so that each section was heard in proper proportion – and there were orchestral details revealed in this performance which escape even the best engineered recordings.  This was a Brahms 4 to remember, and the audience knew it.   

  

A note on Music Criticism

There are too many online music boards in our internet age to list, even for a relatively niche genre like Classical music.  A common theme is “critic bashing,” and nearly every professional critic has been subject to it – even a non-professional critic like me has come in for his share of bashing.  I recently read a comment whining that a well-known critic, who posts his own very entertaining videos on YouTube, was just a “failed percussionist.”  First, how does one define “failed”?  Is the person in question a failure because he does not hold a position in a paid, professional orchestra?  So what?  There are numerous performers of all kinds who have opted to pursue a career outside the arts simply because the outside career offers greater stability and remuneration.  Is that a bad thing?  In my mind, it’s certainly preferable to performers who use their connections to promote themselves despite having no business inflicting their mediocrity on an unsuspecting audience.  For the record, I greatly enjoy the videos posted by the critic in question, and I have enjoyed reading his reviews for decades – even when I disagree with him. 

The irony is that the commenter who sparked these thoughts appears to have no musical training whatsoever, which begs the question: who is better equipped to be a music critic: a failed musician, or a non-musician?

The flip-side is that the critic in question has opined that only the opinions of professional critics should carry any weight and has implied that we amateurs should simply silence ourselves.  Sorry, I’m not going to do that.  First, I write these reviews for myself, so I have a virtual diary of concerts I’ve been to and recordings I’ve listened to.  Second, the state of music criticism in Northeast Ohio is rather dire – our major newspaper does not have a full-time Classical music critic.  Instead, it uses a “lifestyle reporter” (whatever that is) who also writes music reviews which offer neither knowledge nor real criticism.  There’s another critic who runs his own local Classical music website and, while he is clearly knowledgeable about music, his writing is often of the “rah, rah” variety.  Those who’ve read my reviews know that I am dedicated to writing the truth and that I have no other agenda (pro or con) and that I worship no sacred cows.   

 Thus, I offer these reviews to the public free of charge because I believe my musical thoughts carry some validity and should be part of a historical record that is scarcely being written.  As I’ve said to a younger friend to whom I offered advice, “You can accept it, take it under consideration, or reject it entirely.”

You’re welcome.