Ravel, Salonen, and Sibelius at Severance

Guest conductor Esa-Pekka Salonen led the Cleveland Orchestra at this evening’s concert at Severance Hall, which featured his own 21^st Century work placed in between two works composed roughly 100 years earlier.

The concert began with Ravel’s Le Tombeau de Couperin.  Personally, I prefer the piano version of this work, which not only more faithfully recreates the keyboard patterns of some of Couperin’s harpsichord writing, but includes two additional movements.  But there were numerous delights in the orchestra’s rendition under Salonen, from the rustic quality of the Forlane to the bracingly swift tempo in the Rigaudon.    

Following a stage change, cellist Senja Rummukainen joined Salonen and the orchestra for the conductor’s own Cello Concerto, which was completed in 2017.  As any conductor should, Salonen clearly knows the potential of the orchestra, and nearly every conceivable instrument filled the stage, including marimba, vibraphone, flexatone, bongos, and speakers.  The latter were used in the second movement where the cello engages in a dialog with itself – this was quite striking as the dialog had an organic quality, like high-pitched whale song.  Elsewhere the concerto, which was firmly tonal, featured vast, evocative tapestries of sound.  Rummukainen, who made her Cleveland debut with this weekend’s concerts, displayed surety of technique – particularly in the treacherous upper registers, coupled with profound musicality and a sense of proportion.

The concert’s concluding work was Symphony No. 5 in E-flat major, Op. 82 by Jean Sibelius, given a masterly performance by Salonen and the orchestra.  The work is rather unusual in form.  It’s in three movements instead of the usual four, but the opening movement is really a combination of two movements that the composer sketched separately.  I have never followed the notion that the country of one’s upbringing guarantees an authentic performance of music from that locale.  But in Salonen’s case, it seems as if he was born to lead the music of his fellow Finn.  Much of that came down to Salonen’s skillful handling of Sibelius’ tempo changes and the buildup toward climaxes – so that when the majestic theme surfaced in the finale, it felt like the major event it was.  Salonen is a no-nonsense orchestra leader, who eschewed a baton for the Ravel but used one for the other works.  I hope he returns to Cleveland again – soon. 

As mentioned previously, I’ve been experimenting with different areas of the main floor.  This time I was in the middle section of Row H.  The overall sound was a bit less blended than in the back, but very pleasing nonetheless.

This was one of the more sparsely attended concerts I’ve attended at Severance since the post-COVID return to concertizing.  For those who stayed home, the loss was theirs – unless they happen to watch the concert telecast on Adella or Medici.tv.  I noticed a distinctly younger demographic among those who attended in person, which augers well for the future. 

Unwelcome reminders of my past

Oh, the unwanted calls and texts we receive in this age of uninterrupted connectivity.  It has gotten to the point that, during working hours, my mobile phone is set to ignore alerts from all except a few selected parties: co-workers, family members, and a few close friends.

 

There have been a number of entities who have disrupted my peace of mind.  For example, over the past 20 years, I have received occasional messages from someone with whom I had a minor friendship back in the 1980s.  During the period when I lived in New England, I was the assistant manager, and then the manager, of the bookstore at a small liberal arts college.  He was a student there and used to hang out at the store because he fancied himself a budding literary genius.  In reality, he was one of many self-absorbed, unfocused young people who made up the student body.  My clearest recollection was that he had a propensity for dressing in all-black clothing, leading a friend of mine to dub him “Johnny Cash.” 

 

At one point, he was dating an unattractive young woman of uncertain sexuality who, through a series of unfortunate events, briefly became my roommate.  During that period, she told me and others her father had died when he was very much alive, declared herself a lesbian, broke up with her boyfriend (the annoyer in question), then threatened to “retaliate” against said ex-boyfriend by cutting off his penis because he had the temerity to date someone else a few months after they had broken up.  Then, she proceeded to rack up a phone bill in the amount of $537 by calling lesbian sex lines – as the phone was in my name, I got stuck with it when she suddenly moved out.

 

In other words, these two were examples of immaturity, self-absorption, and unnecessary drama.  

 

The female and I have thankfully had no contact in well over 30 years.  The male pops up now and then.  About 20 years ago, I was driving to work when I suddenly heard his voice on the local NPR station being interviewed about a local art exhibition he was promoting.  I told an artist friend of mine about it, and he cackled “That show is a big joke.”  Occasionally, he has submitted comments on this very blog.  These interactions briefly entered and swiftly exited my conscious life.  Then, during business hours on September 19, his call went directly to my voicemail and was followed by a text – both unseen by me until my work day was over.  “Him, again?”  I took advantage of modern technology and blocked his number.  Hopefully, he will take the hint this time.  If not, then he may recognize himself in this blog entry.