Quantcast

New York Arts is dedicated to bringing you the best critical writing about the arts, in-depth, and written by passionate, engaging writers.

 
Every page on the site is free, and so are subscriptions to our email updates.
 
New York Arts survives on your voluntary support.
 
Why?
 
A. Our writers are professionals and should be paid for their work, and so should the editors, who also carry out the everyday tasks of maintaining the site and business.
 
B. There are daily costs in maintaining the site, transportation, professional expenses, and so on...to a long list.
 
C. The editor currently takes on all the administrative work. We need a specialized assistant/administrator.
 
Click here to make your tax-deductible donation to The Arts Press, publisher of New York Arts and The Berkshire Review. Or click on the notice in the sidebar. The Arts Press is a sponsored project of Fractured Atlas, a non-profit arts service organization. Contributions for the charitable purposes of The Arts Press must be made payable to“Fractured Atlas” only and are tax-deductible to the extent permitted by law.
 
If you enjoy what your read here, support New York Arts and keep serious criticism alive! You won't find it in your local newspaper anymore!
Fisher Center, Bard College, Fall Events 2014
Skip to Content

Gergiev’s Russian Stravinsky: Symphony in Three Movements, Concerto for Piano and Wind Instruments, Le Sacre du Printemps

Igor Stravinsky on the Podium

Igor Stravinsky on the Podium

 

The Russian Stravinsky: A Philharmonic Festival: Program VIII

The New York Philharmonic
conducted by Valery Gergiev

Avery Fisher Hall
Saturday, May 8, 2010, 11:00 am

Valery Gergiev, Conductor
Alexei Volodin, Piano

Stravinsky, Symphony In Three Movements
Stravinsky, Concerto for Piano and Wind Instruments
Stravinsky, Le Sacre du Printemps

In recent years, I’ve had the feeling that Stravinsky, with the exception of his Sacre du Printemps and the vastly overplayed Pulcinella, has fallen somewhat into neglect. We rarely hear the great   choral and dramatic works like Agon and Oedipus Rex, Mass, or even the Symphony of Psalms, not to mention the ballet, Les Noces. James Levine has a predilection for Stravinsky, and he has conducted fine performances of the Sacre and some others, but his effort has been tepid in comparison to his obsessive combing over Mahler, season after season, in preparation for the centenary of the composer’s death year in 2011. Hence Gergiev’s Stravinsky Festival with the New York Philharmonic is especially welcome, and I very much regret that I was not able to attend more than one of the concerts.

On the other hand I find the rapidity with which Gergiev has been scaling the snow-capped peaks of western music—Mahler with the LSO, Prokofiev with the Mariinsky Orchestra and Opera, Berlioz’s Les Troyens, Wagner’s Ring—astonishing, almost disconcerting. He must be a phenomenally quick study and be endowed with a phenomenal memory. Still, one must wonder how he can absorb all the complexities of these vast bodies of work in such a short space of time, even at this mature stage of his career, with a generation of music-making behind him. Unfortunately I’ve only been able to witness a small part of this activity, but I can amply attest to his affinity for Prokofiev. There is a significant difference in temperament between those two Russians. While Stravinsky was quite comfortable as an expatriate, especially in Paris, and his music became less and less Russian as he developed, becoming the poster child of international modernism by the 1920s, Prokofiev was less happy and less successful, eventually finding it necessary to return to Mother Russia, even if it had become Stalin’s Soviet Union. While Prokofiev cultivated Christian Science (rather oddly) as spiritual armor, necessarily secretly under the circumstances, Stravinsky’s interest in Roman Catholic liturgy may have created a relative separation from Russianness, but he remained faithful to the Russian Orthodox church, his religion of birth, unto death. Then there was Los Angeles…

This concert consisted of three of his greatest masterpieces, the Sacre (1911), the work that made him notorious as an avant-guardist, being as representative of his early Russian music composed for French audiences, as the Symphony in Three Movements, commissioned by the New York Philharmonic itself in 1946, is of his intellectualizing American phase. It is also a retrospective composition, containing numerous quotations from his earlier work, including the Sacre, making for contrasting, yet congenial mates on a program. If the Sacre is romantic in its Harrisonian way, and the Symphony is classical, the Concerto for Piano and Winds brings in an element of the baroque, giving the audience a total view of Stravinsky’s encyclopedic musical culture.

Gergiev’s own encyclopaedism shows him to be a conductor led by the ambition to set his mark on all orchestral and operatic music in the period that interests him, the period from high romanticism through the early twentieth century, and these performances were very clearly the work of a conductor who wants to set his personal mark on the music. From Stravinsky’s own utterances and from his extensive body of recordings documenting his own performance style, we know him to have consciously espoused a cool, rather impersonal manner, focused on accurately reproducing the indications in his score. Knowing Gergiev’s idiosyncratic, romantic propensities, I wondered if this would be at odds with a radically different performance tradition, which is documented in such detail, as only an artifact of the age of sound and video recording can be. I have recently had occasion to discuss this in connection with Monteux’s 1929 recording of the Sacre, which, since he conducted the premiere of the work at Diaghilev’s Ballets Russes, has an authority equal to Stravinsky’s own. Apart from the recordings, both lived long lives and continued to delight and influence audiences into the 1960s. The New York Philharmonic in fact celebrated Stravinsky as composer and musician, as well as their own role in its creation, by making a recording of Stravinsky’s own premiere performance of the Symphony in Three Movements available on their website, which is also rich in other educational tools. It couldn’t have been easier to hear Gergiev’s intervention in its full context.

While he produced a massive, gorgeous sound from the New York Philharmonic, his attention to detail and rhythmic precision, as well as his aggressively angular gestures made it clear that he was attempting to absorb Stravinskian objectivity within his own, large-scale, expressionistic idiom. In order to assimilate it, he found it necessary to exaggerate. If I say that his manner bordered on the caricatural, I do not intend to diminish his achievement in any way. It seemed to be more his way of taking on the Stravinskian manner while maintaining a distance from it, remaining fully within his own psychic world, as he projected his own image of Stravinsky within the sonic space of Fisher Hall. Indeed, Gergiev could not have had a better vantage point for setting his own stamp on Stravinsky than this dense and allusive summum of his life’s work. The sound of the Philharmonic, who played magnificently in all of their sections, remained eminently clear throughout. Gergiev, in his meticulous attention to detail and the character of the heterogeneous styles which Stravinsky folded into the classical symphonic mould, was especially effective in letting the jazz elements make themselves heard and to make them function within the whole. The final result was impressive, exhilarating, and satisfying. The audience at this Saturday morning concert, which included a generous component of what Leonard Bernstein referred to as “young people”, as well as the usual mature matinee audience, loved it, and responded accordingly.

The Concerto for Piano and Winds was also marked by a keen sense of musical idiom, as well as Alexei Volodin’s polished and energetic playing. The dotted rhythms of the slow introduction recalled not so much the grandeur of baroque organ music or brass choirs as the opening section of a concerto grosso or suite. In this context Gergiev found even richer veins of jazz. The slow movement had all its due solemnity and weight, while the finale swept on to an exuberant conclusion. This reading may not have been as unique and memorable as the performance I heard a roughly a month before with Olli Mustonen and that inveterate Stravinskian, Herbert Blomstedt, but it served the composer very well indeed.

Gergiev’s approach to the Sacre, with its massivity, heaviness, and extreme contrasts of tempo, was likely to elicit more controversy, not least because the work is familiar, and present in the minds of many listeners through the recordings of Monteux, Stravinsky, and many other performances, live and on disc, which have been shaped by them, from Bernstein to Levine. I personally found it a trifle ponderous and exaggeratedj—ust a bit too aggressively Russian. The performance even had a comical moment, when an elderly couple, finding themselves unable to sit through it to the end, just like many in the Sacre’s first audiences, set out for the door from their seats in the front of the parquet. For their exit, they chose the “Processional of the Oldest and Wisest One”, which in Gergiev’s remarkably slow tempo perfectly matched their limited ambulation. One can only ask, were they unseasoned in modernism or offended traditionalists? For my part, I did not find Gergiev entirely convincing, but I was hardly tempted to run away. I heard at several points wonderful details in the inner textures I’d never heard before, and I was constantly gaining new insight into the music. I left grateful to have heard Gergiev’s idiosyncratic view of the Sacre, but reflecting that I wouldn’t be interested in a recording of it. In retrospect, I’m not so sure.

Michael Miller

Michael Miller, Editor and Publisher of New York Arts and The Berkshire Review, an International Journal for the Arts, was trained as a classicist and art historian at Harvard and Oxford, worked in the art world for many years as a curator and dealer, and contributed reviews and articles to Bostonia, Master Drawings, Drawing, Threshold, and North American Opera Journal, as well as numerous articles for scholarly and popular periodicals. He has taught courses in classics, the English language, and art history at Oberlin, Rutgers, New York University, the New School, and Williams. Currently, when he is not at work on The Berkshire Review and New York Arts, he writes fiction, pursues photography, and publishes scholarly work. In 2011 he contributed an introductory essay to Leonard Freed: The Italians / exh. cat. Io Amo L'Italia, exhibition at Le Stelline, Milan, and wrote the revised the section on American opera houses in The Grove Dictionary of American Music. He is currently at work on a libretto for a new opera by Lewis Spratlan, Midi, an adaptation of Euripides' Medea set in the French West Indies, ca. 1930.
  • A Singer’s Notes 101: Except ye become as children …
    My weekend has been dominated by children, their thoughts, and my thoughts about them. Charles Dickens, a passionate admirer of little ones, finds his most searing location for them in his beloved A Christmas Carol. Even the death of Little Dorrit lacks the resonance that this short novella has shown. The attachment with Christmas is […]
    Keith Kibler
  • The BEMF Chamber Operas 2014: Pergolesi’s La serva padrona and Livietta e Tracollo
    Pergolesi’s comic operas sound remarkably modern—which is to say, like Mozart. Recognizably human characters go through recognizable experiences, singing out their feelings very directly, which the music embodies in fluidly changing tempos and moods, stretching of harmony, changes of key and orchestral color. Much is accomplished through musically creative recitative—a half-spoken way of proceeding—as well […]
    Charles Warren
  • What is and what might have been: More Nelsons at the BSO, Chailly and the Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra
    I couldn’t have been more eager to hear Riccardo Chailly and the Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra on their return visit to Boston, part of an American tour celebrating the 25th anniversary of the “Peaceful Revolution” that began in Leipzig in October 1989 and a month later led to the fall of the Berlin wall. Chailly continues […]
    Lloyd Schwartz
  • A Singer’s Notes 100: Shakespeare and Company’s Fall Festival
    A good while ago now, I stepped into an ancient school bus, left a tiny hamlet in the foothills of the Adirondacks, and traveled to the glittering metropolis of Johnstown, New York. There, The Tempest was being played by a traveling troupe, and somehow our country school got us there. The play was The Tempest. […]
    Keith Kibler

New York Arts is dedicated to bringing you the best critical writing about the arts, in-depth, and written by passionate, engaging writers.

 
Every page on the site is free, and so are subscriptions to our email updates.
 
New York Arts survives on your voluntary support.
 
Why?
 
A. Our writers are professionals and should be paid for their work, and so should the editors, who also carry out the everyday tasks of maintaining the site and business.
 
B. There are daily costs in maintaining the site, transportation, professional expenses, and so on...to a long list.
 
C. The editor currently takes on all the administrative work. We need a specialized assistant/administrator.
 
Click here to make your tax-deductible donation to The Arts Press, publisher of New York Arts and The Berkshire Review. Or click on the notice in the sidebar. The Arts Press is a sponsored project of Fractured Atlas, a non-profit arts service organization. Contributions for the charitable purposes of The Arts Press must be made payable to“Fractured Atlas” only and are tax-deductible to the extent permitted by law.
 
If you enjoy what your read here, support New York Arts and keep serious criticism alive! You won't find it in your local newspaper anymore!