Nimble Tread

Race Day!!

Congratulations to Sammy Wanjiru (2:05:10 -- are you kidding me?), Irina Mikitenko, and everyone else who finished today's marathon.  Everybody was in high spirits, including the police who no doubt were happy to be amongst a non-violent crowd for a change.  It was a great race, and hopefully a terrific bellwether for the running season to come. 

Awfully Nice of You to Say

Emanuel Ax has posted some lovely words about Esa-Pekka Salonen on his blog, the creatively named Emanuel Ax's Official Blog.  The praise is offered in Mr. Ax's inimitable spirit of gentility, which is as readily apparent in his non-musical conduct as it is in his playing, and is a welcome change of pace from the snarling, bird-flipping character showcased by some other music notables, who shall of course remain nameless.  Ax will be in Saratoga this summer, where he'll be performing with Yo-Yo Ma and a fellow former Montrealer, Charles Dutoit at the Saratoga Chamber Music Festival.  He'll also be tripping through the maze at Tanglewood, which will see him appear no fewer than three times, including two performances with Ma, violinist Colin Jacobsen, and the Mark Morris Dance Group.  Good luck getting tickets for that!  Ah, Tanglewood...is there a finer spot on earth?

Opposite Banks

Today the Southbank Centre is playing host to two fringe groups, break-dancers and slow fooders (or is it foodists?) and, in the spirit of bonhomie that pervades the place, probably hopes to establish some overlap by the time the sun sets.  It's a reasonable enough ambition, grounded in logic: a day's exertion on the dance floor would naturally rouse a certain hunger in any full-blooded b-boy or b-girl, and I'm sure they'll be only too happy to get their b-hands on some b-food, however slow it might be.
Across the river, the Embankment is teeming with protesters looking to express their opposition to the Sri Lankan government's offensive against the Tamil Tigers and voice their outrage at that same government's alleged human rights abuses.  Seen from the Southbank Centre's balcony, the crowd appears as an undulating mass of black and white, bracketed by a swarm of small red flags fluttering relaxedly in the breeze.  Everything looks pretty relaxed from here, and even Cleopatra's Needle, which has seen a thing or two in its 3,458 years and is today right in the middle of the crowd, doesn't seem too concerned by the scene.  It's a lovely, grey-white day in old London Town.

Salve

To help ease the pain induced by the last post, I offer a soothing balm in the form of Jascha Heifetz (you don't hear that phrase everyday, now do you?):

Pletnev Fiddles With Orphée et Euridice

Here's a comely and excruciating little clip of Mikhail Pletnev giving Gluck's Melodie a good going over during a rehearsal break.  This video will no doubt provoke some strong emotions in anyone who's ever been exposed to the early stages of violin scholarship.  It's a good thing he can conduct and play the piano. 

 

Leon Fleisher's Mozart Concerto CD

Here's a disc that's bound to get good reviews.  For starters, Leon Fleisher's story is so compelling, his manual renaissance so inspiring, that many people will be won over before they even open the jewel case.  "Imagine that," one person might say to another person, "his first concerto recording in over forty years.  Isn't that amazing?"  Talk of this sort usually leads to several copies being purchased as gifts, to be accompanied by notes describing in some cursory fashion the evils of focal dystonia and the wonders of, amongst other things, Botox.  The recipients of these gifts, impressed by the story, will have a listen to hear what a newly invigorated right hand sounds like and will come away touched, not by the novelty of Fleisher's situation, but rather by the quality of his playing.
The disc includes three concertos, No. 12 in A Major K.414, No.7 in F Major for three pianos (in this case two, the second played by Fleisher's wife, Katherine Jacobson-Fleisher) K.242 a.k.a. the "Lodron Concerto," and No. 23 in A Major K.488, each of which sees Fleisher accompanied by the Kammerorchester Stuttgart. 
I should say right off the bat that the Lodron Concerto is not my favourite piece of music.  I've always found it formulaic and boring, particularly its second and third movements, and I'm sorry to say that the rendition on this disc is no exception.  The playing is delightful, particularly the bravura on display at the start of the first movement and at the end of the development, but there's only so much that can be done with the piece.  The Fleishers wring as much sonic diversity out of the concerto as they can, but it's a losing battle. 
The same can absolutely not be said about No. 12, which showcases Fleisher's talents and style in high relief.  There's something so lovely and relaxed about his playing.  The music he produces just seems to spread and spread, producing a nice full sound that's extremely well suited to orchestral playing.  His touch is a bit heavier than it used to be, and at 80 his trills have lost some of their airy speed, but the result is a pleasant surprise: the weight gives the performance a more terrestrial feel, and the music benefits enormously.  In the first movement, for example, the music comes across more playful than humorous, more jolly than giddy.  Fleisher's playing in the second movement is charged with wonderful character, and is full of intermingling emotions that at certain times seem to be at loggerheads but then quickly rearrange themselves to become co-conspirators.  This movement is a great favourite of mine because the playing is so exposed.  It can easily catch out many lesser musicians, but it can also provide more capable ones with a terrific platform to show their stuff, which is exactly what Fleisher does.  His control over the music is outstanding, particularly with regard to transitions and pacing, and he repeatedly conjures the most wonderful largo phrasing.  I didn't notice an off-balance moment throughout the entire piece. 
Ditto for No. 23, which is a far more substantial composition.  Fleisher's in no hurry, and allows us to join him in savouring some remarkable melody lines.  What's more, he plays like a conductor, always keeping an ear on the swivel to make sure he knows what the orchestra is up to.  The result is that he actually plays with the band, which seems to be an increasingly rare feat these days.  This is especially true in the  capricious first movement and in the intimate, almost sonata-like adagio second.  The finale is all grace and low-grade explosives.  A few of Fleisher's runs were a bit uneven, but who really cares.  The personality of the playing is convincing enough to convert glitches to idiosyncrasies, and as we all know, idiosyncrasies, whether in people or in music, are where the good stuff's found.
The album, Leon Fleisher: Mozart Piano Concertos, went on sale on March 31st. 

Off Piste in the Jungfrau

How many of you knew that Mendelssohn was a ski instructor in Wengen?  Not many, I'll bet.  History has been kind to the compositions he rattled off on pub pianos to impress the local Swiss Misses, and as a consequence his accomplishments on the slopes have been all but purged from the memory of human accomplishment.  Fortunately, Wengen is eager to right the wrongs done to Flying Felix, as he was known, and has made the admirable gesture of establishing a memorial, or to use the mellifluous German term, the Gedenkstätte Felix Mendelssohn, in the outskirts of town.  I tried to pay it a visit last weekend, but got snowed out.  It's avalanche season, and even though I have terrific admiration for Mendelssohn, I didn't feel like making it a joint memorial.  It'll have to wait 'til summer.

Math

Henning Kraggerud + Sibelius Concerto = Amazing.

(But can't they do something about the bass buzz at the Cadogan Hall?)

Bonnie Hahn-y

I'm a bit stumped as to why Hilary Hahn was booked to play the Barbican.  The space isn't particularly friendly to chamber music, and the likelihood of her filling the hall was pretty slim, even factoring in her recent Grammy win and the legion of young girls that flocks to her every performance.  Still, those of us who were there were treated to a nice, if somewhat acoustically muted, performance by Miss Hahn and her firebrand pianist, Valentina Lisitsa.  
The pair lent their efforts to three of Ives's sonatas, numbers 1, 2, & 4, of which number 2 was the standout as far as I'm concerned in so far as its mood swings were brought to light with lovely deftness and legerdemain.  Somewhat less intoxicating, however, was the assortment of Brahms's Hungarian Dances, which sadly fell a bit flat.  They would have benefited immensely from a bit of rustication, but then again, what wouldn't?
I was excited to see two of Ysaÿe's sonatas for solo violin on the programme, particularly as I figured Miss Hahn would do them terrific justice.  I was right.  Number 4, in E minor, was played wonderfully: its voices were carefully highlighted, and its tricky transitions were managed very musically, which is no small feat.  The same can be said for the E major sonata, which is all firebreathing at first but then mellows right out into a more reflective mood, which is soon left behind in a burst of adrenaline.  Hahn's performance wasn't as vigorous as what you might get from Leonidas Kavakos or Henning Kraggerud, who're cut from a more ripsnorting cloth, but it certainly got the old ticker pumping and made me grateful for the dreamlike tranquility of Ysaÿe's Rêve d'enfant, which followed.  I love the piece, and wish it was performed more often.  There's a terrific recording of Ysaÿe himself playing the tune, and it's as mysterious and wonderful as anything you'll ever hear.  Hahn's version was more earthbound, but no worse off for being so since the idiom gave the piece an enjoyably robust character.  
 And speaking of robust, how about Bartók's Romanian Dances?  I never get tired of listening to the harmonics of  Stamping Dance  and the wistful melody of  Dance From Bucium, and I like to think that Miss Hahn feels the same way.  It would certainly seem so if her playing's anything to go by.  
The concert was capped off with Paganini's  Cantabile, which was played as an encore to my great delight, as it was exactly what I was hoping to hear.  The piece is perfectly suited to her amazing tone, and she's given it a good amount of attention as a result.  This clip goes some way towards demonstrating my point.  The woman's a wonder.