Symphony gets grand with Beethoven, Ohlsson and Elgar.
Skillfully matching performers and repertoire is an essential but chronically underappreciated talent that can set good orchestras apart from great ones. Luckily for local audiences, Houston Symphony music director Andrés OrozcoEstrada has it down.
“Ohlsson Plays Beethoven” pairs one of classical music’s most decorated soloists, New York-born Garrick Ohlsson, with a staple of the concert repertoire, Beethoven’s Piano Concerto No. 3 in C minor. It works even better onstage than on paper.
The same, though, could be said for guest conductor Edo de Waart, who steered the orchestra through one of the early-20th-century’s more intimidating largescale works, Sir Edward Elgar’s hourlong Symphony No. 1, in the program’s second half.
But first things first. Now 70, Ohlsson launched his career by winning the gold medal at the 1970 International Chopin Piano Competition, and is recognized as among the world’s leading interpreters of the Polish composer. Chopin and Beethoven were kindred spirits in many ways, particularly when coaxing melancholy melodies out of a piano.
Graceful and highly intuitive, Ohlsson’s style is so poised that Thursday his upper-body movements were nigh imperceptible, even as his hands vigorously roamed the keyboard; by contrast, during the music’s quieter places, he visibly cocked his ears as if trusting them to lead the way.
The third piano concerto, which dates to the start of the 19th century, immediately passes the opening movement’s sweeping, lyrical theme through the strings and winds as it reveals how much a brief sequence of notes can change character as it passes between musicians — bold and dramatic in the orchestra, delicate and hushed when restated by the soloist. During the climactic cadenza, or extended solo, Ohlsson transfigured the theme by exploding it into a shower of notes, which ebbed into a deceptive moment of stillness before he hammered out a pair of left-hand exclamation marks to close.
Ohlsson opened the second movement at a whisper, unfolding the tenderness and longing of one of Beethoven’s most impeccable melodies — at least until the encore — by creating the impressive illusion of hardly striking the keys at all.
A spirited round stitched together by a rhythm approximating the “ha-haha” cadence of laughter, the third movement could not have been more different — Ohlsson attacked the jubilant melody, which grew triumphant when doubled by the orchestra, with relish — and still kept his head almost completely still. Meanwhile, a master chef on deadline could scarcely have deployed his best chopping knife as quickly as the soloist did his hands.
For the encore, Ohlsson chose more Beethoven, the second movement of the Piano Sonata No. 8 in C minor, “Pathetique.” Pacing each note of the quivering melody like a steady stream of tears, his performance achieved that rare beauty that happens when sadness mingles with a subtle but undeniable touch of hope.
Just gorgeous.
After intermission, de Waart and the orchestra demonstrated why the Elgar symphony, premiered in 1908, is not to be taken lightly. For one thing, it’s been 25 years since this orchestra has played it.
Best known for the “Pomp and Circumstance” march of endless graduation ceremonies, Elgar was the first British-born composer to reach the rarefied levels of Beethoven, Brahms and Debussy. Certainly his first symphony — completed when Elgar was 51 — feels like he was trying to leave his mark on history and, thus, not holding anything back. Curiously, he had been a knight for four years when the symphony debuted.
Dense and complex, the work is seeded with pockets of sweetness and excitement to go along with its lengthy tension-laced passages and grandiose processionals, including a fleeting flash-forward to John Williams’ “Imperial March” in “The Empire Strikes Back.” The flutes, French horns, lower brass and lower strings (many times) each took welldeserved turns under the spotlight.
The piece’s many layers and immersive textures were in good hands with de Waart, a protégé of Leonard Bernstein in the ’60s whose distinguished career includes top honors in Australia and his native Holland. His right hand stuck largely to the vertical axis, every so often popping his elbow out at a 45-degree angle for added emphasis. And any time he stretched out his left hand was a sure signal he meant business.
Elgar was also a noted nature lover, a lens that might have offer an additional clue or two to digesting the performance. Much of the symphony felt like a journey through a well-tended forest — maybe a royal game preserve, in keeping with Elgar’s English origins — led by an experienced guide who is compelled to seek out the thickest patches of undergrowth. But gradually the listener arrives at a stunning Alpine lake just in time to witness a stunning sunset that lasts a good long while.
The destination is definitely worth the journey.