Restlessness might account for my rather slow appreciation of the first performance for the night, that of Beethoven's Leonore Overture, by the New York Philharmonic Orchestra (NYPO) under the baton of Lorin Maazel, their new music director.

The orchestra started rather low-key, but they slowly built up their impact on this piece, to that of a suave performance, with all the drama and dynamics that littered this piece. There are actually three overtures that make up Leonore's opera, the theme, the adagio and the reprise. This particular overture performed picks up on the Florestan's theme in his dungeon. The melody and poetic effect on the piece was fully deciphered by the orchestra, with smooth leaps of the motifs in the main theme between the different sections of the orchestra. Credit should be given to the string sections as they ably enhance the mood for the evening (as well as for the piece), with their fluid bowing and beautifully controlled fingering, combined with a virtuosic capacity that unravelled the complexity of this piece for the listener through foregrounding of the primary chords within the ornate embellishments. And there was the bright and glorious call of the trumpet, which created a celebratory mood that heralded the magnificence of the piece to come. The reprisal of frenzied bowing produced the allegro-like tempo that inclined towards a vivacious presto. Overall, the orchestra had succeeded in bringing about the illusion of "a song without words" to the overture, with good control of the dynamics, tempo and clarity of sound.

NYPO's rendition of La Mer by Debussy was more subdued compared to the more colourful Leonore Overture. Unfortunately, for the night's performance, the impressionistic was overshadowed by the more expressionistic Leonore, which was unfortunate and does not speak too well of the musical interpretation. However, the invocation of the idiosyncratic moods of the sea managed to emerge, especially in the second movement, Jeux de vagues (The Play of the Waves); a mixture of light gaiety, sanguine bursts and impressive breakers. It came out really well, and with the most sensitivity of the three movements. The first movement, De l'aube à midi sur La Mer (From Dawn till Noon on the Sea), was played rather mildly, or could be said rather timidly. It was the most subdued movement among the three performed which unfortunately made them colourless. Yet, towards the end of the movement, there was a kind of promise to greater things, which was too late for it, but just right for the second part. The final movement was a dialogue that ensued between the wind and sea, with nervous ripples that border on aggression, though there did not seem to be much depth in the interpretation, which left the tension uncharged. Anyhow, the overall rendition was pleasant to the ears, even if it sounded fragmented in the first movement, and a little unfinished in the third.

Jean Sibelius's Symphony No. 2, is a piece that could either fill one with dread (if you do not have much stamina) or with wonder at its complex opulence. After the nondescript performance of La Mer, I was aroused by the superb performance of Sibelius (my perception as a first time listener). The orchestra flexed its musical muscles by giving warmth to the orchestra colouring, and memorability to the themes of movements, providing a strong emotional surge and crescendo to the mammoth piece. A very spirited introduction was provided by the orchestra, interspersed with a calculated use of silence and pause. There was also the successive use of triplets by Sibelius in the first movement, which was ably reconstructed by the orchestra to give a series of varying colour and timbre, giving a stately quality to the piece. Each instrument melded effortlessly with each other, and the syncopated phrasings provided a minuet-like rhythm. The repetitive riffs by the strings germinated and gave way to a full bloom of orchestral beauty in the second and third movement. The second movement began with a pensive, pizzicato solo double bass that was soon joined by the spiccato-ing cellos.

The second movement was imbued with fanfare with its loud brass, which died off with the roll of the timpani. The atmosphere was sweetly morose with a penchant towards the Gothic, affected through the use of mordents. There was continuity between the third and final movement, with an undercurrent of agitation, of gentle lament that underlied the pensive beauty of the movements. There seemed to be a major swing of moods as the melody alternated between thunderous darkness and tenderness, pronounced by the agitated bowing and resounding drum beats. The music developed and grew towards the finale, with each section picking on the theme, and feeding off each other in a tense tremolo. Finally, a statement was made through an exultant and majestic close. This final piece was the best in terms of interpretation among them all.

For their efforts, the NYPO and Maazel both received encores. After around six curtain calls, they obliged us with Farandole from Bizet's L'Arlesienne Suite , played with much aplomb by the orchestra. After another round of curtain calls, they performed the final bonus piece for the night, an excerpt from Brahm's Hungarian Dance, with much gusto as the night drew to a close.

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6.11.2002 © Clarissa Lee

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