Mid-March brought a perfect storm of subscription tickets. Over the course of eight days I went to ten shows or concerts. I attend so many events in the hope of being uplifted by the humanities; a high percentage of very good to excellent performances fulfilled that quest.
Friday evening: Handel and Haydn Society at Symphony Hall, performing Bach's St. John Passion. This group plays music of more than two centuries ago on period instruments, usually underpowered and out of tune. I left midway during part two for what will probably be my last H+H concert.
Saturday matinee: Irish film festival at Somerville Theatre – Taste: What's Going On. My sister has a passion for Celtic roots music, which led us to this documentary of Rory Gallagher's breakout 1970 concert on the Isle of Wight. His blues-rock trio opened the door for all the Irish rockers that followed. To call him an equal to Jimi Hendrix is not an exaggeration. Really fantastic to see – thanks, Denise!
Saturday evening: Orchestra of Indian Hill taking on The Classics. Conductor Bruce Hangen gave a gentle and transparent reading of Schubert's "Unfinished" Symphony. I heard little details that often get lost with big bands in big halls. It was enlightening to follow the basses when Schubert liberated them from just doubling the cellos.
The last movement of Beethoven's Symphony No. 1 opens with comic timidity, the violins ever more hesitantly shying away from the starting gate before taking off at full gallop. Hangen played it for laughs, to the audience's vocal enjoyment.
Sunday matinee: Joy on clarinet with the Middlesex Concert Band in a program of movie music. Disney tunes, The Magnificent Seven, "Over the Rainbow", a John Williams medley – there was something for everyone. The highlight was the theme from The Pink Panther. This band swings hard!
Sunday evening: Boston Chamber Music Society at Sanders Theatre premiering a piano quartet by Harold Meltzer. The work has a palindromic structure – advancing through six or seven sections before exiting the way it came in. One of the central sections is palindromic notewise, playing the same forwards as backwards. It's an engaging work with rhythmic and textural interest and a touch of humor. I loved it.
Also on the program was Mendelssohn's Piano Trio No. 2 in C minor. Mendelssohn has five works that I rank high among all classical compositions: A Midsummer Night's Dream, the Italian Symphony, his Octet, Violin Concerto, and String Quartet No. 2. Now I add this piano trio to the list. The first movement builds and builds and builds to unbearable heat, then suddenly backs off to avert self combustion. Mendelssohn is bad-ass. If you ever get a chance to see one of his works performed, please go.
Monday: laundry.
Tuesday evening: in New York City to see Donizetti's comic opera Don Pasquale at the Metropolitan Opera. I saw this same production ten years ago and left wishing I could live in Norina's rooftop terrace apartment. Soprano Eleanora Buratto was energetic, but not effervescent. There was a lot of telegraphed physical schtick that sapped any sense of spontaneity. But it was gratifying to hear this bel canto gem performed with admirable lyricism. The two baritones sang an encore of their patter duet in front of the scene-change scrim.
Tenor Javier Camarena excels in this genre. After his Act Two exit a two-minute ovation recalled him to the stage; he reprised the tail end of his aria with enhanced ornamentation. The best was yet to come in Act Three, when his character stole the show with a serenade sung entirely offstage.
Wednesday matinee: The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time at Broadway's Ethel Barrymore Theater. Who stabbed the neighbor's dog with a garden fork?
An autistic teen sleuth tries to unravel a tangled web of mysteries. Exponentially multiplying digital projections give a glimpse into Christopher's battle against sensory overload. Yet the story has great heart, and the last act pulls at your emotions in all the right ways. This play = (technical + dramatic) stagecraft raised to the highest power.
Wednesday evening: a new production of Mozart's The Marriage of Figaro at the Met. At first glance the stage looked like a giant hat box full of King Arthur's spare crowns. But once the overture started a turntable revolved the set to show different aspects of the Almaviva's turreted manor. The Count and one of the maids are gathering their clothing in a back corridor while the valet, Figaro, furnishes a chamber he will share with his bride-to-be, Susanna, who is attending to the Countess, who is asleep (alone) in her bedroom, while the gardener gets drunk in the garden. Within three minutes the opera's sexual politics and upstairs/downstairs dynamics are loud and clear.
An ensemble of acting singers brought a refreshing contrast to some unmotivated star turns I have seen in the past. Baritone Luca Pisaroni stood out as the Count, whose philandering and misguided jealousy of his wife repeatedly made him the comic butt of his own hypocrisy.
Thursday evening: Boston Symphony Orchestra (back full circle). Guest conductor Stéphane Denève opened the concert with American composer Jennifer Higdon's blue cathedral, which drifted away into thin air on wine glasses and Chinese bells. Gil Shaham joined the stage to perform John Williams's Violin Concerto. Anyone familiar with the soundtracks to Star Wars and Harry Potter would be hard-pressed to recognize the same composer in this willfully unmelodic work. Shaham gave an encore in honor of St. Patrick's Day – an Irish reel by Percy Grainger, arranged for solo violin by Fritz Kreisler. The reading lacked a strong, driving beat, coming across as more flash than dance.
The program ended with Symphony No. 3 by Camille Saint-Saëns. This work has echoes of Schubert's "Unfinished" Symphony, but it distinguishes itself with the use of a pipe organ. The lowest pedal tones are felt as much as heard. A nice touch of scoring is a melody doubled by clarinet and trombone, and there are additional splashes of color from piano four-hands. The closing measures were a rousing finish to a week that tested my endurance.
Lather. Rinse. Repeat.
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