Originally posted by bluestateprommer
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Bit late to posting on this (as usual), but my last symphony concert was last weekend at Orchestra Hall with the Chicago SO and Muti, a program of 3 works I'd never heard before live:
Haydn: Symphony No. 48
Martinu: Oboe Concerto
Scriabin: Symphony No. 3 (The Divine Poem)
The first worry was more visual than musical, as Muti strode on stage with his right hand in "Napoleon pose" position, if that makes sense. Given that he's had a few health scares this year, one was worried. The next worry was the first musical worry, as there was a horn blat at the very start of the Haydn. However, things recovered quickly, and the Haydn was well paced, in kind of the big band, old school manner. I didn't have the most optimal seat, but when I saw the musicians clear the stage, I saw Dale Clevenger strolling off, and I then reacted, "Oh", regarding the initial horn blat.
Part of the stage clearing was that it was necessary to bring on the grand piano for the Martinu (which got its first CSO performances then, BTW). It's always amusing at Orchestra Hall to see the podium area being lowered, and then raised again with a grand piano, since I've never seen a grand piano wheeled in from the side of the stage. It's even more drily amusing when the piano isn't being wheeled in for a concerto, but simply as one other instrument in the orchestra. Eugene Izotov did a very fine job with the Martinu, even though it's not the greatest piece ever and kind of noodles along, with many typical Martinu baroque-style rhythms. Pianist Mary Sauer got a well-deserved solo bow herself.
We got the huge serving of what one of my old bosses would have called "late Romantic swill" in the form of the Scriabin. Muti obviously brought a lot of experience and love to his conducting of the score, which hadn't featured in Chicago in 20+ years (last time was with Gergiev). It's such a sprawling work that I'm not at all sure what to make of it, although the 'night music' like 2nd movement came off very well, and at least I had the feeling that I knew where I was in the overall narrative. Near the very end, after one big chord and then silence, some (not many) of the audience started applauding prematurely. Muti turned to the audience to give them a slightly dirty look, though more a snarky dirty look rather than the look-of-death dirty look, before conducting the concluding bar or two. Perhaps to make up for the faux pas of the mistiming audience members, the audience overall was very generous in the closing applause. Muti made light of the situation at the very, very end, when he gave a short address to the audience about the premature applause, but then did say that maybe everyone wanted to go back outside and enjoy the nice weather, since it was a beautiful day, and the Scriabin "is very long".
Just as a quick PS, I also heard Muti and the CSO a few weeks back, with Maurizio Pollini in Mozart 21. The only seat that I could get at the last minute was at the very top of the Gallery, but because of the obstructed view of the very back row, I stood up while the works were playing. It sort of felt like being at The Proms again. (The Schumann Rhenish then was by far the most spaciously timed I've ever heard it, which made me wonder if Muti was "doing a Celibidache", but then I remembered his health issues, so maybe he was just trying to pace himself.)
Haydn: Symphony No. 48
Martinu: Oboe Concerto
Scriabin: Symphony No. 3 (The Divine Poem)
The first worry was more visual than musical, as Muti strode on stage with his right hand in "Napoleon pose" position, if that makes sense. Given that he's had a few health scares this year, one was worried. The next worry was the first musical worry, as there was a horn blat at the very start of the Haydn. However, things recovered quickly, and the Haydn was well paced, in kind of the big band, old school manner. I didn't have the most optimal seat, but when I saw the musicians clear the stage, I saw Dale Clevenger strolling off, and I then reacted, "Oh", regarding the initial horn blat.
Part of the stage clearing was that it was necessary to bring on the grand piano for the Martinu (which got its first CSO performances then, BTW). It's always amusing at Orchestra Hall to see the podium area being lowered, and then raised again with a grand piano, since I've never seen a grand piano wheeled in from the side of the stage. It's even more drily amusing when the piano isn't being wheeled in for a concerto, but simply as one other instrument in the orchestra. Eugene Izotov did a very fine job with the Martinu, even though it's not the greatest piece ever and kind of noodles along, with many typical Martinu baroque-style rhythms. Pianist Mary Sauer got a well-deserved solo bow herself.
We got the huge serving of what one of my old bosses would have called "late Romantic swill" in the form of the Scriabin. Muti obviously brought a lot of experience and love to his conducting of the score, which hadn't featured in Chicago in 20+ years (last time was with Gergiev). It's such a sprawling work that I'm not at all sure what to make of it, although the 'night music' like 2nd movement came off very well, and at least I had the feeling that I knew where I was in the overall narrative. Near the very end, after one big chord and then silence, some (not many) of the audience started applauding prematurely. Muti turned to the audience to give them a slightly dirty look, though more a snarky dirty look rather than the look-of-death dirty look, before conducting the concluding bar or two. Perhaps to make up for the faux pas of the mistiming audience members, the audience overall was very generous in the closing applause. Muti made light of the situation at the very, very end, when he gave a short address to the audience about the premature applause, but then did say that maybe everyone wanted to go back outside and enjoy the nice weather, since it was a beautiful day, and the Scriabin "is very long".
Just as a quick PS, I also heard Muti and the CSO a few weeks back, with Maurizio Pollini in Mozart 21. The only seat that I could get at the last minute was at the very top of the Gallery, but because of the obstructed view of the very back row, I stood up while the works were playing. It sort of felt like being at The Proms again. (The Schumann Rhenish then was by far the most spaciously timed I've ever heard it, which made me wonder if Muti was "doing a Celibidache", but then I remembered his health issues, so maybe he was just trying to pace himself.)
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