San Francisco Symphony Music Director Michael Tilson Thomas returns to the podium at Davies Symphony Hall this week for concerts featuring Stravinsky's thrilling Petrushka and composer John Adams' powerful setting of Walt Whitman's The Wound Dresser. MTT's back in the nick of time, after a fortnight of pedestrian appearances by two usually more adept guest conductors. Their programs were not unsatisfactory, just surprisingly disappointing. Thankfully, both were rescued from instant amnesia by exciting guest soloists.
Uninspired results were most apparent in the recent program led by DSH veteran conductor James Conlon. Ordinarily, he makes a strong impression, but his latest visit seemed labored, and the orchestra was only fitfully responsive. The program started with a rather long-winded albeit earnest introduction meant to explain the historical context and significance of Benjamin Britten's Sinfonia da Requiem (1940). Conlon urged listeners to understand the sorrowful motivation for the composer's concise and effective work, but couldn't resist sounding a bit pompous himself. The right intentions misfired, setting an academic mood for an emotional piece.
Britten's impassioned music was played well enough. The seasoned pros of the SFS could probably sight-read if they had to. Unfortunately, while Conlon looked to be in charge, the musicians seemed less interested. You will never hear a bad performance from the orchestra, only occasionally less-inspired ones.
That was certainly the take-away impression of Dvorak's Symphony No. 8, which filled the largest portion of the bill and concluded the concert. We heard a big, stylistically disjointed rendition of the characteristically melodic and rhythmically propulsive score. The only trouble was, it all went in one ear and out the other.
Sandwiched between the Britten and Dvorak, Canadian pianist Jan Lisiecki made his SFS debut playing Mozart's Piano Concerto No. 22 in E-Flat. Lisiecki's poised and clearly articulated performance was in pleasing (and rather endearing) contrast to his gawky stage appearance. He may be old enough to order a drink in California, but he had better expect to be carded. The lovely passagework and crisp attack in the wisely chosen cadenzas proved the young pianist's maturity. It isn't surprising that he has already earned international attention for his performances of Chopin.
Beloved pianist and conductor Vladimir Ashkenazy made his way back to the podium at DSH for his latest appearance with the SFS the week before, with a promising all-Russian bill of fare. There is no disputing Ashkenazy's grasp of the repertoire, and a lifetime of enjoyment of his performances, both conducting and at the keyboard (especially at the piano), has primed us for high expectations.
Of course, even a master can suffer an unexpected off-night, and so it seemed with the performance of Tchaikovsky's mightily dramatic Symphony No. 4. Again, the SFS can probably play this with their eyes closed, and the recent workmanlike rendition almost proved the point. Audience response was wildly enthusiastic, however, meaning the Finale is a surefire thrill, loud and fast enough to raise the dead, no matter what. During the extended ovation, Ashkenazy finally held the score up to the audience like a sacred book. He was right; it is in the writing.
The more deserved standing ovation of the evening was already accorded to cellist Alexey Stadler before the intermission. His penetrating reading of the Shostakovich Cello Concerto No. 1 burned itself into listeners' brains with an intensity and pathos that silenced any criticisms of his technique or pacing. The sheer theatricality of the young Russian cellist's interpretation erased audience distraction and suspended time. I may have other favorite artists in mind when hearing Shostakovich's astonishing score, but they didn't pop up during the compelling performance by Alexey Stadler as he made his memorable US debut with the SFS.