In an age of general multi-tasking there doesn't appear to be much risk to artistic quality when a cultural institution as reliable as the San Francisco Symphony applies some multi-purposing to the season's musical programming. The last two subscription series concerts at Davies Symphony Hall have included not only a highly entertaining recording session, but also a final dress rehearsal of sorts for a major work that will be performed twice as part of the orchestra's upcoming U.S. tour in November.
Looking at the bill of fare on paper last week proved both enticing and confusing. The second half of the evening appeared to be nothing more than a mixed bag of brief pieces usually reserved as encores. Music Director Michael Tilson Thomas immediately grabbed the microphone after intermission, and we knew there would be an explanation following in one of his endearing and amusing chats.
The musical bonbons �" or better yet, tapas �" were all being recorded for future use in a collection of salon pieces or albumblatter (pages in an album). They were assembled and programmed more or less in the tradition of such connoisseur artists as legendary violinist Jascha Heifetz. The resulting listening experience was unavoidably mixed. The morsels were tasty enough, they just couldn't make a satisfying meal. MTT said he wasn't expecting a lot of applause, just trying to evoke some sighs of pleasure and appreciation. So mission accomplished.
The first and lengthiest piece, at nine minutes, was Music from the film Our Town by Aaron Copland. Lovely and stirring in that aching, Copland-nostalgic sort of way, it was a poor fit for what came next. Delius (On Hearing the First Cuckoo in Spring), Rachmaninoff (the very familiar Vocalise ), Sibelius (Valse triste) and, with the addition of some exquisite keyboard work by Robin Sutherland and Peter Grunberg on cimbalom, La plus que lente by Debussy. All capped by a rousing Cortege de Bacchus from Sylvia by Leo Delibes.
Principal Trumpet Mark Inouye continued the roll he started during the annual SFS opening gala with some gorgeous solo work in the Copland, but more importantly, he brilliantly started the concert's first half with a bright and perfectly pitched call to attention at the beginning of Blumine by Gustav Mahler. The brief work started as a theatrical piece, and was later incorporated into the composer's Symphony No. 1, then subsequently dropped. It has survived ever since in a kind of limbo. Blumine is quite attractive, beautiful even, and MTT was clever to put it first in an evening that would end with other gemlike scores.
The entire outer program selections ultimately proved to be not much more than an attractive and pleasant framing device for the appearance of guest soloist pianist Emanuel Ax. After a lifetime in the business and a career that has brought great acclaim if not superstardom, Ax still walks to the Steinway with an unassuming air. I have always admired him, but last week was really something special.
About halfway through the first movement of Beethoven's Third Piano Concerto, Ax's predictably sturdy and accurate playing suddenly took flight in the sort of transcendent interpretation that makes a familiar masterpiece sound brand-new. As he continued through the sublime slow movement and through to the thrilling Rondo: Allegro finale, the soloist simply ascended to new levels of achievement. His remarkable subtlety of touch and interpretive insight brought thoughts of Mozart and even Chopin to mind, but this was all Beethoven with a bold B. The smiling and seemingly unfazed star was rewarded with a genuine and appreciative standing ovation. After all was said and done, I wished his performance had been recorded as well.
The week before, DSH and MTT were all about Mahler all the time, with a week of performances given solely to the composer's Symphony No. 9. A woman in the audience said words to the effect of, "The Ninth is not my favorite Mahler, but MTT can do no wrong." I wouldn't presume to be advising on personal favorites in the Mahler canon, but I would agree with her remark about MTT's mastery of the territory. Taking the maestro's previously acclaimed reading of the exceptionally tender and emotionally wrenching Ninth to Carnegie Hall with the orchestra that made his vision possible in the first place seems like a very good idea. The most recent concert only reinforced our high opinion.
I do hope the seats at Carnegie have been oiled, though. A restless old chap at DSH came close to spoiling the otherwise breathlessly soft and rhythmically sure performance by squirming continuously in a chair that was in desperate need of some WD-40. Some audience members fled to other empty seats between movements. I zeroed in on MTT's incredible energy and managed to stay focused. The pay-off was worth it.