Above: composer Thomas Larcher
~ Author: Brad S. Ross
Thursday April 25th, 2019 – This evening at David Geffen Hall saw the performance of two imposing, if wildly dissimilar, symphonies—one old, the other new—as The New York Philharmonic made their best effort of this decidedly peculiar concert pairing. Guest conducting the program was the Russian-born Semyon Bychkov, whose steady command brought typically formidable results from our city’s prized orchestra.
The first half of the concert was given over to the United States premiere of the Austrian composer Thomas Larcher’s visceral Symphony No. 2: Kenotaph. It was prefaced with opening remarks by Larcher, who offered concise and mercifully brief pre-performance context for the work. The title (German for “cenotaph”) refers to an empty grave or monument to those buried elsewhere. It was composed between 2015 and 2016 amid the peak of the Syrian refugee crisis, which saw hundreds of thousands of migrants fleeing from their homeland towards a less-than-welcoming central Europe. This tragedy was foremost on Larcher’s mind as he wrote Kenotaph, which, as he put it, is not so much programmatic music as it is “music with empathy.” Its form is cast, quite traditionally, in four movements over a duration of roughly 37 minutes.
It opened with a bang on a furious, colorful Allegro, marked by numerous volatile bursts. This momentum retreated briefly into a somber elegy, before returning with ferocious energy—an energy marked with shrieking strings, discordant brass bursts, and unrelenting percussion that led it to a frightening close. Although occasionally on the discursive side, the movement was characterized by a gripping sense of musical drama that would set the tone for the rest of the work.
It was followed by a mournful, string-heavy Adagio that opened on repeating glissandi in the high strings as warm brass chords and descending mallet lines swelled and trickled underneath—the effect was almost like something out of science fiction. A voluminous march then launched the music into fearful new atmospheres as a lone violin line, performed by the concertmaster Frank Huang, faded the movement into a haunting silence.
Next up was plucky and energetic Scherzo, molto allegro, driven by excitingly colorful percussion. Accelerating tutti bell tones led the piece to a series of fortissimo bursts before an almost Baroque and, by comparison, shockingly tonal phrase brought the movement to a pleasant, bittersweet end.
The final movement, Introduzione, was a somber and almost elegiac affair. It began with a number of featured soli—trumpet, violin, viola—which, once again, were surprisingly tonal in sound. The movement soon became violent and triumphant, as though the gates of hell had been thrust open and the devil himself was leading the charge. The composition here was not unlike Camille Saint-Saëns’s Danse macabre, Malcolm Arnold’s Tam O’Shanter Overture, or some other ghastly jaunt of classical music history. Larcher delightfully milked this for all it was worth and brought the movement to a number false codas before its final climax—always finding ways to say more without ever overstuffing the piece. A quiet postlude followed that featured a ghostly violin solo—again performed by Huang. Finally, as if burying the dead, a tasteful, yet haunting funeral march brought the symphony to its final and, appropriately, unresolved cadence.
The audience’s response was kind, if not totally enthusiastic. A modest number of curtain calls gave Larcher, Bychkov, and the work’s soloists much-deserved chances to take their bows, which, given the strangely contrasted pairing, is perhaps the best for which one could hope. Nevertheless, musically Kenotaph should be regarded as one of the New York Philharmonic’s most exciting premieres of recent memory, alongside Esa-Pekka Salonen’s Cello Concerto, Anna Thorvaldsdottir’s Metacosmos, or Julia Wolfe’s Fire in my mouth.
Had the evening had ended here—and it probably should have—this might have been one of the best concerts of the season. Ticket-holders tend to require more than forty minutes of music to feel satiated, however, so after intermission the audience returned for an enjoyable, if unremarkable, performance of Johannes Brahms’s Fourth Symphony.
Composed between the summers of 1884 and 1885, this would be the last of the Romantic composer’s symphonies before his death in 1897. Cast in four movements over approximately 45 minutes, it comprises a lush and stately Allegro non troppo, a warm and overlong Andante moderato, a fairly dainty Allegro giocoso, and a lively Allegro energico e passionato, which finally injected some much-needed energy to the second half of the program.
After the riveting first half of the concert, this listening experience was almost soporific by comparison. Perhaps it’s simply unfair to judge such an antiquated work against the rigorous complexities of one so new, but it’s one this odd pairing begged to be made. Nevertheless, one could not possibly walk away from this concert feeling anything less than satisfied. All in all, it was another splendid night at the New York Philharmonic—the gem of this great city.
~ Brad S. Ross
Oberon's Glade 