Showing posts sorted by relevance for query Altinoglu. Sort by date Show all posts
Showing posts sorted by relevance for query Altinoglu. Sort by date Show all posts

Monday, November 12, 2018

Debussy, Pintscher, and Ravel at Severance


Last week, Matthias Pintscher served as guest conductor at Severance.  This week, Pintscher was present in spirit if not in body as one of the featured composers.  More on that in a moment.  This week’s guest conductor was Alain Altinoglu, the featured soloist the orchestra’s principle flautist, Joshua Smith.  The hall was nearly sold out, no doubt mostly due to the popularity of the program’s final work, Ravel’s Bolero.

The program opened with Altinoglu’s own suite from Debussy’s opera Pelléas and Mélisande.  The orchestra has some familiarity with this, one of the composer’s least played works, having performed the complete opera two seasons ago.  They also recorded excerpts in the 1940s under then music director Erich Leinsdorf.  Some have complained that Pelléas and Mélisande lacks a hummable tune, which is valid as far as it goes – it eschews many of the features some opera lovers thrive on: epic spectacle, stratospheric arias, elaborate plot twists.  But the composer’s stream of consciousness creation has benefits for those who are willing to listen on a more elevated level.   The suite – partly based on incidental music the Debussy had to write at the last moment to cover for stage changes – was convincingly presented by Altinoglu.  The transparent, shimmering textures alone were a delight, along with the most delicate tone painting.

Pintscher’s “Transir”, a de-facto flute concerto, was even more challenging.  While there are those who did – and some still do – regard Stravinsky’s music as avant-garde, the Russian composer used the orchestra in a rather conventional manner.  Not so with “Transir”.  Numerous instruments were altered to some extent, including the use of paper clips in the strings to create a unique sonority.  Further, each string player often had an individual line to play, which would challenge any ensemble.  To say nothing of flautist Joshua Smith’s task, who’s technique included “multiphonics” (creating multiple notes at once), tapping on the instrument, “jet-whistle”, flutter-tongue, and breath effects.  Everything that could be perceived as unusual for both soloist and orchestra.  I simply had no idea a flute could be made to sound this way – yet it remained musical.  Altinoglu proved an excellent collaborator, with the orchestra demonstrating its mettle in a highly detailed, but mostly quiet accompaniment.  Smith was rightly awarded with a standing ovation.   

The program’s second half was dedicated to Ravel.  The Spanish Rhapsody featured sensitive use of dynamics yet seemed somewhat sectionalized.  Pavane for a Dead Princess was beautifully paced and somewhat muted – a grief observed rather than experienced.  What can one say about Bolero that hasn’t been said before?  It’s probably the best example of an orchestral crescendo this side of Rossini.  Altinoglu established a sensible pace, kept the balances in check, and let the soloists do their thing.  The individuality of various solos, in particular a flirtatiously sexy saxophone solo from Steven Banks enhanced, but never distracted from, the musical line and inevitability.

My enjoyment of Bolero was dampened by a woman in front of me humming along with the main tine, and several audience members trotting out their cell phones to tape parts of the proceedings – in defiance of Severance’s strict policy against doing so.  The head usher tried to intercede several times but eventually gave up.  Poor man.  

Saturday, February 28, 2026

Music of Unsuk Chin and Richard Strauss at Severance

As befits the shortest month of the year, this evening’s Cleveland Orchestra program at Severance Hall, which featured guest conductor  Alain Altinoglu and cellist Alisa Weilerstein, was about the briefest I’ve ever encountered at a Classical music concert – just about an hour’s worth of music.  Whatever the program lacked in length was made up for in variety and substance. 

The program opened with Unsuk Chin’s Cello Concerto, composed in 2009, featuring Weilerstein in the solo part.  The work is scored for a large orchestra, supplemented with piano and celeste.  As with subito con forza, which was performed by the orchestra two years ago, Chin seems more interested in orchestration and sonic textures than with thematic development.  Totally atonal, the work shows the continuing influence of Chin’s teacher György Ligeti.  Weilerstein, a frequent and welcome guest in Cleveland, made the most of Chin’s unorthodox writing, which included rasping and scraping – as well as delivering some haunting lyricism in the third movement.  Weilerstein played a short Bach work in a major key as an encore.



The Richard Strauss works followed intermission.  Let’s put one matter front and center: The Cleveland Orchestra has been considered one of the world’s great orchestras for the music of Richard Strauss for nearly 70 years – going back to the George Szell era.  In fact, the first recordings I ever heard of the tone poems featured in this evening’s concert were with this orchestra led by Lorin Maazel – way back when I was a teenager.  The recording also featured Strauss’s Death and Transfiguration which, even then, struck me as the greatest of the three.

Altinoglu started with Till Eulenspiegel’s Merry Pranks, based on the 16th Century German folk hero.  As the story goes, Till Eulenspiegel, who may or may not have been a real person, was a prankster whose targets were often those in power, including clergy and academics.  Eventually, the authorities caught up with the naughty prankster and, as reflected in the music, he paid the ultimate price with a one-way trip to the gallows.  The 16th Century was definitely a “tough on crime” era.  But the work’s coda, where the merry theme returns, assures the audience that his spirit lives on.  This is the kind of work which, if played “straight,” will die.  Altinoglu caught the work’s humor and shifted moods effortlessly, helped by pin-point turns by the orchestra.     

The character of Don Juan is more familiar: a rebellious Spanish libertine or, in modern psychobabble, a sex addict.  He also has a gambling problem and kills the father of one of his conquests.  Dude’s got issues.  As with Till Eulenspiegel, Don Juan dies for his sins – but in this case the death is self-inflicted.  Dark stuff indeed.  But the tone poem starts off with a brash major key fanfare, because pursuing and obtaining sex is fun – at least in moderation.  The fact that Don Juan is rebelling against an overly strict father is icing on the cake.  Just don’t fall in love or things will get complicated.  Again, Altinoglu’s conception was a model of phrasing, pacing, and clarity.  The Cleveland Orchestra proved once again that it retains its crown as a great orchestra for this kind of repertoire, and special mention must be made of Nathaniel Silberschlag’s horn solo which featured the most unearthly legato I’ve ever heard from that instrument. 

 

A reminder that Severance Hall's acoustics were 
once far less appealing than they are today.