A Little Night Music

Ive been to a Mahvelous Party

How often does one get the chance to say, “I was just at a FABULOUS concert”, and mean it? There are good concerts. There are concerts where one liked the program or the soloist, or different aspects of being there…. But it is rare that you get the chance to say you had a fabulous evening.

Tonight I was at a Fabulous concert! Surprisingly it was at Lincoln Center’s Mostly Mozart Festival, more often than not, a staid, and sometimes dull affair.

Tonight’s program sparkled, it dripped acid like a party of drag queens after closing time, it was joyful and fun.

This was a program after my own heart! Diverse, full of spice, interesting, and clever.

From the moment you stepped into Avery Fisher the mood was set for fun. The stage had been moved toward the center of the hall, so that the audience surrounded the orchestra. A practice common in Europe, which always makes for a much more immersive experience.

First the program…. Showing that Andy Cohen hasn’t cornered the market on the raised eyebrow, this program spanned 200 years of irreverence. From Beethoven’s Eighth Symphony, mocking the very conventions Beethoven himself had codified, Prokofiev’s “Classical” Symphony from 1918, to Shostakovich’s fiery, and jazzy Concerto for piano trumpet and strings from 1933.

Conductor Osmo Vanska brought humanity and life to each piece. From the moment he began, there was an ongoing conversation and interaction with the Artists in the orchestra, and the listening audience.

You know you’re in for a good time when the principal cellist and others are smiling during the performance. Its old fashioned music making, with a personal point of view.

The program began with the epitome of a Rococo tribute lit with a twinkle in the eye…Prokofiev’s “Classical” Symphony written at the height of the First World War.

The Symphony seems to be Prokofiev’s defiant answer to the Russian Revolution, his world, and the world of Imperial Russia falling down around him.

It’s a look back to a more orderly past, the classical forms of Mozart and Haydn, as the world changed in front of his eyes.

Yet, it is filled with joy, unsentimental nostalgia, and virtuoso turns by the orchestra. Leaps, trills, arpeggios, sudden shifts of volume from pppp to ffff, all exaggerated for full effect, while throwing in modern harmonic twists.

Interestingly, just 2 weeks after the premiere in 1918, Prokofiev left Moscow for what he thought would be a few months…. He didn’t return to Russia for nine years.

The Shostakovich Piano Concerto is a boisterous affair, even more amazing when you consider it is written for just piano, trumpet and strings.

However, never forget Shostakovich knew how to write a good film score, and how to maximize an effect. One moment may be somber like too much vodka in a Russian winter, and then suddenly it turns and you are in a brawling tawdry late night club.

The piano and the trumpet trade spar like characters out of a screenplay.

The piano is definitely the Star Diva of this movie, lounging around on dark chords, drinking a dry martini on a chaise, then suddenly throwing the glass at the head of the poor lover trumpet player ,slamming the door, and heading to the clubs to party till dawn.

This is true fire music, and the pianist better be able to throw caution to the wind. Yuja Wang, did just that. She is a demon player, that takes no prisoners and will happily leave you behind. Alternatively seductive, then burning up the keys like one of the housewives of New Jersey….Dont fuck with her!

Philip Cobb played the trumpet part, the “boyfriend” who just may not know what he’s gotten himself into. The piece gives me the vision of the pianist in spiked heels, standing on the poor guys chest, then marching out the door.

The Beethoven Eighth Symphony was all jocularity, and satire. The 2nd movt. mocking the then recent invention of the metronome, and howlingly shaking jowls, the first movt. a welcome invitation to come in and have a beer.

Although its not wise to put too much weight on biography and composition, it is true that the summer Beethoven was writing this Symphony in Bohemia, he also wrote his famous love letter “to the Immortal Beloved”…. But which he then never mailed.

A beautiful summer night, spent at Lincoln Center, with the fountain in its wedding cake majesty, surrounded by people of every sort, feeling unspoken connections with each other, and smiling up Broadway.