Noseda & Concert
Italia, Pittsburgh Symphony
January 18, 2012
By
Hank Walshak
The more I
listen to our Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra, the more I stand in awe of its
musical prowess. Concert Italia was no exception. Once again, the orchestra
justified its world-class reputation under the direction of Gianandrea Noseda,
sought-after Music Director of the Teatro Regio Torino.
 |
| Gianandrea Noseda |
The first
piece on the program, La note di Platon (“The Night of Plato”), an
orchestral sketch, was composed in 1923 by Victor de Sabata, renowned Italian
conductor and one of Italy’s two,
musical gods—the other being Toscanini. The music depicted an evening feast arranged by Plato about 407 BCE. At
this feast, Plato proclaimed to friends and colleagues that he would abandon the
poetic and hedonistic life to follow the teachings of Socrates and pursue the life
of the spirit, detachment, and self-denial. His announcement met with non-receptive
ears, grumbling and complaining.
I marveled at the way the Pittsburgh
Symphony moved us through the wrenching
changes of Plato’s old and new devotions. What drama and resolution in this
piece! Melodies depicting wild dances and people wrought with concern over
Plato’s decision gave way to languid melodies suggesting carnal pleasures. These
musical paintings then melded into the counterpoise of soft, contemplative strains
leaving us to imagine Plato, quietly sitting alone in his room, reflecting on
his new self-direction.
The second piece on the program, Concerto in D Major for Piano (Left Hand
Alone) and Orchestra, by Maurice
Ravel, was a knock out, because of Benjamin Hochman’s spell binding, keyboard
artistry that revealed another side of Ravel’s compositional talent.
If you’re relatively new to the music of Maurice Ravel,
as I was, you’ve probably listened to Bolero, his best-known, and famously
repetitious, one-movement orchestral piece, premiered in 1928, the same year he
toured the United States. Listening to tonight’s concerto for left hand only revealed
another dimension of his talent.
Pianist, Paul Wittgenstein, brother of Ludwig,
the renowned Austrian philosopher, had asked Ravel to compose this piece. Paul
had lost his right arm in World War I, but had continued to transcribe and play
pieces for the left hand.
Benjamin Hochman, winner of the prestigious, 2011
Avery Fisher Career Grant among many other notable awards and achievements gave
new meaning to left-hand virtuosity as he performed this concerto. More than once, I closed my eyes and it
sounded as though he played the entire keyboard with both hands.
My wife, Jeannette, and I sat close enough to observe
Hochman’s fingering. Afterwards, we traded thoughts on his performance. “His
precision was outstanding,” she said. “When I thought of his playing left-hand
only before the concert, I thought he’d concentrate only on lower melodies he
could play from middle C and lower on the keyboard. But he played the entire
key board with one hand. What an artist.”
The third piece in
tonight’s concert, Aus Italien (“From
Italy”) by Richard Strauss, conjured
up his visions during
his visit to Italy in 1886. This appealed to my visual sense. It’s difficult
to imagine anyone
visiting Italy and its picturesque cities like Verona, Bologna, Rome,
Florence, Naples, Sorrento, Salerno, and Capri without breaking
into song about these places.
Well, Strauss didn’t sing
about his visit in 1886. He composed Aus
Italien Opus 16 a
symphonic tone poem,
his first, in four parts, faithfully rendered by our Pittsburgh Symphony
Orchestra. This piece
held a pleasant surprise for us that we’d hear in the fourth part.
Auf
der Campagna (“In the
Country”), the prelude, wafted us across the Roman countryside as experienced
by Strauss from the Villa d’Este at Tivoli. Roms
Ruinen ("Amid the Ruins of Rome"), written as a great symphonic
(sonata form) first movement, carried us back to the empire's and the city’s
past glory.
Am
Strande von Sorrent (“On the
Shore at Sorrento”), captured the mood of Strauss as he took in the sounds of
nature and helped us to imagine the softer, spiritual sounds he heard near the
seaside. The audience then pepped up for the fourth part, Neapolitanisches Volksleben (“Neapolitan Folk Life”). Here’s the
surprise: If you’ve ever heard the catchy Italian melody Finiculli Finiculla,
you heard it again in this part.
The performance stayed with me for days afterward,
as I saw in my mind’s eye, Mr. Noseda deftly guiding the symphony through these
widely varying pieces and as I hummed Finiculli Finiculla over and over. And I
kept wondering how Benjamin Hochman could achieve the heights of keyboard he
has reached.
-XXX-.
Hank
Walshak
Communications
Expert for Experts
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read. Be heard. Be seen.
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412-831-3023
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