Tuesday, July 19, 2011

RATING THE "BIG FIVE"

(Originally posted April 17, 2011)

Last evening, after writing about the current straits of the Philadelphia Orchestra, that I have actually hear four of the "big five" of American orchestras.  The only one missing from the list is the New York Philharmonic, and regardless, I have to think that I know that orchestra well.  After all, I was a child raised in the time of Leonard Bernstein and his Young People's Concerts (along with many, many recordings--some treasured, some not) remain indelible memories.  While it may be easy to name the greatest orchestra in the world (possibly not, is it Berlin, Vienna, or the Concertgebouw, and what about...), which of the major orchestras in this country is the best?

For me, a great deal might depend on the listener's familiarity with the ensemble (I've heard the Chicago Symphony many times), the program (the one time I heard Philadelphia they closed with Mahler's First Symphony) or possibly even the conductor (one of the finest I've seen is Carl St. Clair, often seen as a guest with the Madison Symphony).  So this may be an exercise not in determining which is the best, but instead some reflections on my own experience and (probably) bias.  We'll work across the country from east to west.  Does one ever wonder why all of the "great" orchestras in this country are east of the Mississippi River?

The "shed"
Boston:  I must begin with a caveat:  the only time I have heard the famed BSO was outdoors at their summer home at Tanglewood.  While we were seated within the confines of the music shed (as opposed to the lawn), I am certain that little can compare to experiencing this fine ensemble in their own renowned hall.  My (now ex-wife) and I were on the return leg from a three week trip to the far east coast (Bar Harbor, ME) and back and out travels took us into the Berkshires and of course, the Maestro had to hear a BSO concert (if they were in fact performing that evening).  As luck would have it, they were and Andre Previn was on the podium.  I was looking forward to an exciting evening of music making.

There is a reason that composers of old chose only certain instruments for outdoor performance, so that--very simply--they would have the carrying power to be heard.  Previn chose for his program the Fantasia on a Theme by Thomas Tallis by Ralph Vaughan Williams (one of my most favorite works), Chopin's Second Piano Concerto (I can't recall the soloist--Watts, maybe?), and closed with one of the Beethoven String Quartets arranged for string orchestra.  I left the performance with a few thoughts:  The Vaughan Williams is music too sensitive for the surroundings in which it was played; I really don't care for the Chopin Second (I still carry that feeling even though I've heard Lang Lang and the CSO) and Beethoven String Quartets are better left to string quartets.  During that entire long piece (I'm thinking it was the C-sharp minor quartet, Op. 131), I found myself longing for the more lean texture offered by only four players, as well as the give-and-take that only four "communal" players can provide.

A concert hall....really?
Philadelphia:  a caveat here (and for Cleveland as well).  I only heard both of these fine ensembles in the old "Auditorium" building at Michigan State University.   Calling this monstrosity (over 4,000 seats) an auditorium is a misnomer as it actually brings to mind an athletic complex and, over the years, I've heard countless (thus far unsubstantiated) rumors that it was once a swimming facility.  The sight lines aren't that bad; the place is just too large for symphonic concerts, especially if one is buried near the rear (as I was).  Fortunately the facility has been replaced by the Wharton Center for the Arts and I understand that it is a more than suitable replacement.
      This is one concert for which I cannot recall the entire program (although I am confident that it is in my files somewhere).  I do know that it was the first time I'd heard Debussy's Faun in a live setting, but nothing on the first half of the performance prepared me for my introduction to the music of Gustav Mahler.  Ormandy was in his waning years but still was able to muster up the energy to lead this outstanding ensemble in this amazing work.  While Philly has long been known for its lush strings, their fine brass section rose to the fore in the finale, with horns standing and resultant lengthy ovations.  I left that performance so happy that I was a musician.

Lorin Maazel
Cleveland:  again heard at the MSU Auditorium and, interestingly enough, in the same month I heard Philly:  Cleveland played at the beginning of the month, Philly at the end.  My attendance came as the result of a phone call from an MSU friend of mine who said something like, "I know you like music.  I can get student tickets to the Cleveland Orchestra.  Are they any good?"  Of course, one "in the know" of the contemporary orchestra scene would chuckle at the question; I just though it was kind of cute.

A very young Lorin Maazel was conducting and the program consisted of just two works, both symphonies:  Prokofiev First "Classical" and (I think, again the memory fails me) Dvorak Seventh.  Here I had the pleasure of sitting exactly in the middle of the tenth row, so the sound was probably as good as it was going to get.  The playing was clean, crisp, very precise, and boring.  It seemed as though they were just phoning in this Sunday afternoon concert.  And that is always unforgivable.  I would compare it to an all-Dvorak concert I heard a few years back in their own concert hall, the Rudolfinum.  While they probably know the concert overtures and the seventh symphony by heart, they played the music as it was fresh and new, or better put:  "Here you go audience.  This is our music and we're going to show you how it should be played.

Orchestra Hall, Chicago
Chicago:  as I said before, because of my proximity to the city (less than four hours even on a bad day), I have heard this orchestra much more than nearly any other in the world.  Unfortunately for myself, I never heard the CSO under Georg Solti, but from the recordings I have heard, their concerts must have been something to behold.  The CSO has often been called a "muscular" orchestra and that probably is not a misnomer.  They are not afraid to play all out when the music calls for it; one is always left wondering if such an ensemble is capable of delicacy and beauty of tone in more esoteric repertoire:  Debussy, Ravel, etc.

I have heard this orchestra under both its past music director, Daniel Barenboim and its principal guest conductor, Pierre Boulez as well as a number of lesser-known guests.  I have heard fabulous soloists, including Yo-Yo Ma, Lang Lang and several of the orchestra's principal players (including flutist Donald Peck's "swan song" with the Neilsen Concerto)  The oddest performance had to come from guest conductor Mikko Franck (one of many Finnish wunderkinds) who spent the entire evening, brushing his long hair away and pulling up his ill-fitting trousers, all while seated on a stool (he couldn't have been thirty at the time and obviously was capable of standing as he often did--but seemingly not at the right moments.   I learned a couple of important lessons that night:  if called to conduct the Chicago Symphony, I'll make sure to have a fresh haircut and a tuxedo that fits.

A couple of more interesting CSO observations:
  • The players themselves appeared to prefer Maestro Boulez to Barenboim.  This was made perfectly clear one evening when Boulez came out for another bow and motioned to the orchestra, which motioned back to him, offering their own tribute to this musical giant.
  • Barenboim always seemed to be more than a bit condescending to his audiences.  It was just a feeling that I got.  Maybe its a personal bias because I can't stand the man.  His treatment of his late wife, the great cellist Jacqueline DuPre, during the waning years of her battle with MS was abominable.
  • Worst programming?  That one is easy:  Barenboim, who programmed Haydn's La Passione Symphony (with pared-down instrumentation) followed by the Elliot Carter Violin Concerto.  After making his audience seemingly suffer through the "medicine" of the Carter, the second half of the program offered not one, but two Strauss tone poems.  That had to be too much of an allegedly good thing.
  • Best?  I can't recall, but was in wonder hearing Yo-Yo Ma play the Dvorak Concerto one cold January night in 2000 as well as watching (with an "orchestral view" from the terrace behind the players) Boulez conduct Mahler's First with no score, no baton and an economy of motion that had me transfixed.
So I really don't feel qualified to choose the "best" of the American orchestras, although others have actually weighed in on the subject.  As long ago as 1983, Time Magazine dispelled the myth of the "Big Five" and offered this list of the best American orchestras:
  1. Chicago Symphony (then under Solti)
  2. St. Louis Symphony (a 38-year-old Slatkin)
  3. Boston Symphony (Seiji Ozawa, then only 47)
  4. Philadelphia Orchestra (then in transition, having said good-bye to Muti)
  5. Los Angeles Philharmonic (Guilini, then 68)
  6. Cleveland Orchestra (awaiting the arrival of Christoph von Dohnányi.)
  7. New York Philharmonic (Mehta)
  8. San Francisco Symphony (Edo de Waart)
  9. Pittsburgh Symphony (Andre Previn)
  10. Also rans include Minnesota, Dallas, the National Orchestra (Washington DC), Cincinnati, Houston, Rochester, Baltimore, Detroit and Atlanta.
One must wonder how this list would stack up nearly 30 years later.  There are some interesting posts here, where one player listed Cincinnati at the top.  The 2008 Grammophone poll says that Chicago is still on top.  Critic Alex Ross wrote in the March 22, 2010 edition of the New Yorker, “For the duration of the evening of March 1st, the Minnesota Orchestra sounded, to my ears, like the greatest orchestra in the world.”   Who would have thunk it?  An orchestra west of the Mississippi?

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