SYMPHONY, MA IN SYNC
What’s the ‘special sauce’ that makes Yo-Yo and PSO so good?
If the performers don’t look happy or pleased at the conclusion of a concert, why should the audience? On Wednesday in Heinz Hall, a beaming Yo-Yo Ma accepted wave after wave of applause as he finished a performance of a famous cello concerto by English composer Edward Elgar with the Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra. A handshake and a hug with the orchestra’s equally enthusiastic conductor, Manfred Honeck, helped cement the concert as a triumph.
Ma is one of classical music’s best-recognized figures, a champion of the cello and music of many genres. There’s something especially communicative about his playing that captivates the ear and charms the imagination of listeners, whether they’re classical music fans or not.
What is that special sauce?
He’s able to conjure emotions and characters through his playing that resonate profoundly with listeners. Elgar’s concerto begins with a fierce cry of anguish for the cello. Here, Ma’s playing was the very sound of heartache. It’s difficult to pinpoint exactly how this works in practical terms, but his attention to detail is remarkable.
Each note flows into the next with a sense of purpose, building toward or receding away from a little musical climax. His bow technique allows for different sorts of “cover” and “shading” used to help express musical temperament. During the Elgar piece, the music spun from anguish to naiveté to sweetness and more, and every phrase was meticulously planned and practiced to wring every bit of feeling from the music.
At the same time, his playing is anything but rote. In every performance, he might voice a phrase slightly differently, taking a
little extra time on notes here and there or pushing the tempo slightly to emphasize subtle nuances in the music. (Once again, an expressive face here helped convey his meaning even more plainly.)
There’s an air of spontaneity to his playing, much the same as when a great orator monologues. The words (or musical phrases) are the same, but delicate shifts in expression and timbre of voice make the difference between a moving soliloquy and a melodramatic bit of waffle.
Maybe this is the easiest way to explain this: When Ma plays the cello, it sounds as natural as breathing and as communicative as speaking.
The international musical community also praises maestro Honeck for a fanatical attention to detail. This is why the PSO’s recordings of wellknown staples like Beethoven and Brahms symphonies have earned Grammy nominations and awards for years.
Honeck brings out details that help clarify the music’s meaning, an emphasized French horn countermelody here or a snarl in the woodwinds there.
On Wednesday, the orchestra delighted in an enthusiastic performance of the Overture to “Ruslan and Ludmilla” by the Russian composer Glinka, a bright, whizzing affair that ticked along with the precision of a Swiss watch.
Later, music from the ballet “Romeo and Juliet” (this incarnation composed by Sergei Prokofiev) delighted with its quirks and turns. It’s an enjoyable piece that has listeners chuckling at the end.
Before the Elgar, Ma performed music by the Brazilian composer Heitor VillaLobos with the orchestra’s 12-member cello section, led by principal cellist Anne Martindale Williams, who has held that position since 1979. Most of the section contributed to setting up an undulating, twilight accompaniment, while Williams and Ma delivered a melody in octaves (occasionally not quite in tune, alas).
The audience in the fully sold-out hall leapt to its feet at the conclusion of the Elgar piece, met with a gracious, spirited grin and bow from Ma and Honeck.
I’ve noticed more and more this season and have heard others note that many members of the orchestra look utterly serious or even displeased while accepting applause. It’s a small detail that can have a serious psychological effect on listeners, actually, and one that has an easy fix.
Classical music may be a serious business, but performances like Ma’s are gifts that remind us all that it’s an art form of feeling and subtlety and connection.