Carnegie Hall’s season-opening concert featuring the Philadelphia Orchestra is a frequent visitor on Thursday nights.
Ravel’s “Vals” and Liszt’s Piano Concerto No. 1 are dazzling, and Dvořák’s Symphony No. 8 is in a graceful melodic font. At the gala dinner that followed, the program promised to end easily.
“La Valse” was heavy and foreshadowing from the start. The snippet of the opening waltz melody did not fly, flicker, or join together like other interpretations. Fagot refused to let go of his sleep, and slowly and violently awakened. The strings fainted steadily, and the double bass let out a menacing throb.
For his choreographic poem, Ravel imagines “a huge hall inhabited by swirling crowds” and, in the sheer exuberance of the waltz, sees a dignified couple sweeping the floor in a circle. Nézet-Séguin conjured up a haunting, horrifying dance. (Though some agree with its eerie transformation as a metaphor for the decline of post-World War I Europe’s glory, Ravel resisted such an interpretation.) The finale was a controlled pandemonium. . Liszt and Dvořák were similarly mindful towards their conclusions.
Nezet-Séguin reveled in the power of a full orchestra, as he did with the Metropolitan Opera Orchestra in June. But this time, he used his heavy hand to force the shards into an uncharacteristic shape.
Dvořák’s normally uplifting symphony turned into a stone-faced, vindictive one. Even clarinet playing in thirds moved loudly. Liszt seems to have aimed the brass not only at the back row, but also at passers-by on the street.
Elsewhere, there were moments of elegance, joy, and even whimsy: Concertmaster David Kim’s sparkling violin solo in Dvořák, or basically anything the cello touched with its warm, transparent feeling.
Liszt’s Piano Concerto is the work of an established showman who wanted to be taken seriously as a composer, combining chamber music with virtuoso brilliance and transparent textures. One moment you are playing a clarinet sonata. Next, a sparkling improvisation that runs through the orchestra.
Soloist Daniil Trifonov was more concerned with technical brilliance than sound quality. His passage radiated with intense brilliance, lining up chords like punctuation marks. Liszt tackled an already difficult piece with Trill’s 19 straight bars, and Trifonov kept it sparking and spinning. It’s a miracle that he has fingerprints. His scherzo had a wonderfully light atmosphere.
But like Nezet-Séguin, Trifonov earned respect for his prowess, but it left me cold.
Trifonov’s encore, an arrangement of Bach’s “Lord, Joy of Man’s Desiring”, caused a kneeling burst of laughter from the audience. But as he unwound the music’s tough melody over a gentle accompaniment, a welcome palate cleanser was offered.
Gabriela Lena Franck’s dashing ‘Chasqui’, taken from a six-movement suite for string quartet and arranged for string orchestra, likewise injects new energy into the programme. The string pizzicatos plucked like branches underfoot, and the lower ones developed a handsome, relentless tone in their own right, while the higher strings became supple.
Last season at Carnegie, Nezet-Séguin’s promotion of living female composers led to the noble work of Valerie Coleman and the strangely evocative work of Missy Mazzoli. Each brought out a fresh sensibility in him. Such advocacy could become part of his legacy, serving him not only as a composer but also as a musician.
Philadelphia Orchestra
Performs Thursday at Carnegie Hall in Manhattan.