Author: Philip Gardner

Above: Sergei Rachmaninov

~ Author: Ben Weaver

Tuesday October 17th, 2023 – The Philadelphia Orchestra was Sergei Rachmaninov’s favorite orchestra. He not only composed multiple works which they premiered, but it was the orchestra he chose to record his symphonies and piano concertos with. And, through the decades, the Philadelphians have played Rachmaninov as well as anyone and better than most.

The orchestra’s current artistic director, Yannick Nézet-Séguin, has already recorded Rachmaninov’s complete symphonies and piano concertos (with Daniil Trifonov as soloist) and is continuing his presentation of the works at Carnegie Hall. (In a one-time-only mega event, pianist Yuja Wang and the combination of maestro Nézet-Séguin and Philadelphia Orchestra  performed all the piano iano Concertos and the Rhapsody on the Theme of Paganini at Carnegie Hall in a single memorable concert last season.) On October 17th Nézet-Séguin presented a marvelous evening of two of Rachmaninov’s audience favorite works: the Symphonic Dances and Symphony No. 2.

Rachmaninov composed the Symphonic Dances in 1940 and the Philadelphia Orchestra and Eugene Ormandy premiered it in January of 1941. Apparently Ormandy was not very fond of the work, though he did perform it frequently and record it more than once. 

The first dance opens with a three-note staccato motif, dark – even sinister – in tone, and it remains the driving rhythmic force throughout the movement. An alto saxophone plays a memorable role during the quieter moments (alas the wonderful player is not specified in the Playbill.) Rachmaninov ends the movement with a modified quote from his First Symphony, a work that had been lost 40 years earlier, so he knew nobody would have any idea what they were hearing. (The score was fortunately discovered again, but after Rachmaninov died, so he did not get an opportunity to hear it again after it’s catastrophic premiere led to his composers’ block.) Maestro Nézet-Séguin took a hard-driven, very steady, and deliberate pacing in the beginning of the work, speeding up considerably when the opening theme returned later in the movement.

The second dance is a stilted Waltz that I always thought of a cousin to Ravel’s La Valse. The compositions share an odd limping rhythm, the wistful minor key melodies swirling like aged ballerinas remembering happier days. Perhaps Nézet-Séguin lingered a little too much occasionally here, but always recovered the pulse of the work. The final dance, with its heavy reliance on the Dies Irae (a theme Rachmaninov used in many of his works) fights against a quotation from Rachmaninov’s own All-night Vigil Vespers, as light tries to conquer darkness. It seems the heavens win (Rachmaninov even scribbled “Hallelujah” in the score.) The Philadelphia Orchestra and Nézet-Séguin dazzled all the way through.

The Symphony No. 2 in E minor, Op. 27 is, along with his Piano Concerto No. 2, Rachmaninov’s most beloved work and oft-performed work. A gigantic, lush, deeply Romantic and melodic work was a hit from its premiere (conducted by Rachmaninov himself in St. Petersburg in 1908; the US premiere took place just one year later in – where else – Philadelphia under the composer’s baton.) Maestro Nézet-Séguin’s interpretation was magnificent, sometimes even revelatory. The tumultuous climax of the first movement, with its howling brass, for the first time reminded me of Tchaikovsky’s Pathétique Symphony. The magnificent Adagio movement – with a ravishing melody everyone recognizes – contains a tremendous extensive solo for the clarinet, played by principal clarinetist Ricardo Morales with incredible beauty and tenderness that made you lean forward. The final Allegro vivace movement was a high voltage thrill ride which the orchestra dispatched with effortless aplomb.

I must acknowledge that the concert opened with a performance of Jennifer Higdon’s Fanfare Ritmico, a brief 1999 piece I occasionally thought may have resembled John Adams’ “Short Ride in a Fast Machine.” But the resemblances were fleeting even if they existed. My red flags went up when I looked at the list of instruments used in this 6 minute piece and it contains, as so many contemporary works do, every imaginable percussion instrument there is. Perhaps 2/3 of the instruments listed were percussive. I suppose to Higdon’s credit she does not use them all at once (something others do and never to anybody’s benefit). But she does fall into the same trap countless contemporary composers do where being unable to transition from one theme to another, the easiest path is to have somebody hit something. And so things kept getting hit. When it ended I said to my companion: “Well, whatever that was, they played it very well.”

~ Ben Weaver