Symphony’s concert with an audience was worth the much-missed applause
It feels strange to miss throatclearing. But that’s where we are.
In more ordinary times, Houston Symphony concerts are punctuated by this form of unwitting audience participation on a fairly routine basis. But at Friday night’s performance, the orchestra’s first in front of a live Jones Hall audience since March 1, the air was eerily still. The 150 patrons on hand were either remarkably self-conscious about making noise or remarkably free from throat irritation.
This crowd would have easily fit into the Continental Club, were that not off limits right now. To even be allowed into the auditorium, concertgoers had to pass a temperature screening; to leave their row, they had to wait until their appointed exit time. And woe to anyone with an unruly mask: get caught by an usher with an exposed nose and/or mouth and, after one warning, violators would be asked to leave. (“Nice to see you … sort of,” one patron greeted another.)
And yet Friday’s performance was probably the hottest ticket in town, if one of the only tickets in town; it even made the 10 p.m. news. It did not feel remotely normal, being there, but neither did it feel dangerous nor even especially risky. It felt like being part of something vital.
All the more so because of the musical selection. Jones Hall’s stage looks cavernous with only eight musicians on it, arranged in a “U” to allow for social distancing, but Franz Schubert’s Octet in F Major is probably as close to a symphony as possible under the current circumstances. At just over an hour, it’s certainly as long.
Divided into six movements, the piece cavorts and meanders through a number of challenging passages and at least as many savory melodies. Of the eight players onstage, Schubert’s orchestration arguably gave pride of place to concertmaster Yoonshin Song and clarinetist Mark Nuccio, but the most exhilarating moments came when all eight musicians were locked in as a unit, full steam ahead.
The Octet began with a radiant introduction that established a placid mood, which evaporated as the harmony tensed, the tempo quickened and a slippery main theme, with echoes of Beethoven, emerged. (One of Beethoven’s septets is said to have inspired this piece.) In time, the melody made its way around the ensemble, passing from jaunty to thoughtful and enabling mini-duets from such unlikely pairings as Song and bassoonist Rian Craypo.
The slower second movement revolved around a bittersweet melody not dissimilar to Schubert’s famous “Ave Maria”; it was lovely. Nuccio started it off with some plaintive pulls on his clarinet before yielding to Song. The other strings onstage — second violinist MuChen Hseih, violist Joan DerHovsepian, cellist Brinton Averil Smith, and bassist Robin Kesselman — thickened the texture, and William VerMeulen’s horn wandered through every so often to lend some extra gravitas.
Dance themes dominated the next few movements. The third rode an irregular rhythm to stir up a playful, high-spirited romp, with Smith taking full advantage of a chance to flex during the trio section. The fourth movement was an elegant minuet, which began with a placid, pastoral feeling before growing more dramatic in the second half; the lushly orchestrated fifth, marked by fine horn and passages, felt like a leisurely lovers’ stroll.
The finale began with a rare appearance of minor tonality in the turbulent introduction before giving way to a jolly, forceful melody that resumed the first movement’s game of musical tag, including some powerful moments of unison strings; it all felt very symphonic. Several minutes of energetic development eventually found those opening storm clouds again before, just as quickly, the swelling dynamics and robust harmonies climaxed in a galloping finish, which prompted a well-deserved round of applause.
It felt good to applaud again. It felt better still to have something to applaud for.