Haydn, Rota, and Saint-Saëns with Yamada and Wendel at Severance

The weather and air quality cooperated as The Cleveland Orchestra’s 2026 Summers at Severance concert series continued last night.  The smoke from the Canadian wildfires – which two weeks ago caused pre-concert festivities to be moved indoors – had cleared – and with the temperatures agreeable, patrons gathered on Severance Hall’s front portico for drinks and snacks.

Last night’s program featured music from the 18^th, 19^th, and 20^th centuries led by guest conductor Kazuki Yamada, assisted by Principal Trombonist Brian Wendel – appointed to that post in 2022.  I don’t usually comment on a performer’s attire, but instead of the customary black, Yamada wore navy-blue tails and trousers. 

The concert opened with Franz Josef Haydn’s Symphony No. 104 in D major, often called “The London Symphony” and the composer’s last work in the genre.  Yamada took the introduction at a slightly more spacious tempo than is customary before launching into a boldly articulated opening movement.  The following Andante was a portrait of restrained, elegant poetry.  The Menuet’s trio was especially memorable, with rests ever so slightly prolonged in a manner that would surely have delighted Haydn himself.  The finale beautifully balanced the rustic character of its principal theme, based on a Croatian ballad, with elegance and refinement.  One can only imagine what Haydn, who was impressed with the quality of London’s orchestras, would have thought of The Cleveland Orchestra’s flawless yet warm performance.   

Following a very quick stage adjustment, Yamada returned with Wendel for Nino Rota’s Trombone Concerto in C, composed in 1966 – less than a decade before Rota’s best known tune – the theme from Francis Ford Coppola’s The Godfather – became an international earworm.  This is Wendel’s first concerto appearance here, but he showed no sign of nervousness whatsoever.  Rota’s concerto opens with an angular first movement, which sounds distinctly mid-20^th century while remaining firmly tonal and immediately accessible.  The soloist played with impeccable intonation with nary a blemish to be heard.  The second movement which begins in a somber, almost desolate manner before becoming increasingly agitated, featured sensitive phrasing and a liquid tone that belied the trombone’s identity as a brass instrument.  The witty rondo, with its rapid-fire changes of intonation, from repeated notes to staccato to long legato lines – all while the orchestra motors along – brought down the house.  Wendel was brought out for three curtain calls.     

 

Wendel following the concerto.

Following intermission Yamada returned to conduct a repertoire spectacular, Saint-Saëns Symphony No. 3 in C minor, Op. 78, the so-called "Organ Symphony.”  Yet in this case, the work was treated more as a symphonic structure than an excuse for excess volume.  Yamada, whose conducting technique is outwardly economical, revealed the work’s contrapuntal detail – particularly in the mini-fugue episode of the work’s final movement.  Instrumental lines often submerged in recordings emerged with striking clarity, while the organ, brass, and percussion remained integrated into the orchestral fabric instead of overwhelming it.  Yet, the work was no less spectacular.

The only blemish of the night came not from the orchestra, but from the row behind me.  Someone’s mobile phone rang during the second movement of the Saint-Saëns, providing an unwelcome obbligato.  Worse, it was one of those loud rings made to sound like an old-school landline.  Worst of all, the patron seemed to be uncertain of how to turn the phone off.  I suddenly remembered that I didn’t hear the usual recorded announcement asking patrons to silence their electronic devices before the concert.  The announcement should be reinstated at the concert’s opening and repeated at the end of intermission.

Smetana, Rachmaninoff, and Dvořák with Bychkov and Ohlsson

The Summers at Severance 2026 season commenced with the welcome return of guest conductor Semyon Bychkov and pianist Garrick Ohlsson in a program of Smetana, Rachmaninoff, and Dvořák.  Owing to smoke from the Canadian wildfires, the customary pre-concert drinks and snacks with light music were moved indoors to the safety and comfort of one of America’s first air-conditioned halls.  As is common for summer concerts, the program was focused on easily digestible standard repertoire. 

Bychkov opened the program with The Moldau from Smetana’s Má vlast.  The performance highlighted the orchestra’s beautiful, burnished tone – far suaver than that caught on most recordings.  But some parts seemed overly smooth as the conductor deemphasized dynamic contrasts like the subito pianos during the wedding dance sequence.  Still, this was a performance of rare technical polish.

Following a quick stage change, Ohlsson, no stranger to Cleveland, joined conductor and orchestra for Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concerto No. 1 in F-sharp minor, Op. 1.  It would be tempting to call Rachmaninoff’s work one of the most arresting first opuses in history, but in truth it bears little resemblance to what the composer played when the work’s opening movement was premiered in 1892.  Instead, it was heavily patterned after Grieg’s Piano Concerto.  Rachmaninoff’s 1917 changes to the work – too drastic to be considered a revision, more of a rewrite, resulted in a more concise, dramatic piece.  Ohlsson, who I’ve twice heard conquer Busoni’s massive, 70+ minute long Piano Concerto, definitely has the chops to play this piece.  But what really impressed with his performance were the musicality and sense of structure – something too often lost by soloists who pursue gushing melodies or pianistic pyrotechnics.  Bychkov and the orchestra furnished an accompaniment which was rich without descending in Hollywood-esque schmaltz.  The audience began applauding before the last chord finished echoing off the hall’s back wall.

During the first curtain call, someone in the first row gave Ohlsson a large bouquet of flowers and he continued to carry them with him, including when he returned to the piano to play an encore.  The pianist humorously introduced it by saying “There’s no need to announce this piece because everyone will know it,” before beginning a poetic rendition of Debussy’s Clair de lune, featuring plasticity of phrasing and lovely pianissimos.

 

Ohlsson before the bouquet was handed to him.

Following intermission Bychkov returned to lead the evening’s concluding work, Dvořák’s Symphony No. 8 in G major, Op. 88.  This is probably the composer’s most joyous symphony.  Though I was able to perceive the work’s overall character, a nagging headache prevented me from concentrating enough on the performance itself to impart its details.