Following the withdrawal of conductor Junajo Mena, New Yorkers got an unexpected opportunity to get further acquainted with the New York Philharmonic’s Music Director Designate Gustavo Dudamel, taking the reins in a pleasing program centered on works from or about Spain. Amongst Spanish music written by non-Spanish composers, Ravel’s output is certainly a standout, and works by him neatly bookended the evening.
Sultry, perfumed beginnings were had in the opening Prélude à la nuit of the Rapsodie espagnole. The music felt almost far off into the distance, occasionally swelling to more urgent material, and the celesta offered a particularly ethereal layer. A pair of dance movements followed, with evocations of strumming guitars in the Malagueña, and a colorful, inimitably Iberian cast of percussion in the Habanera. A fiery Feria was given a bold reading to bring the work to a sparkling, iridescent close.
Serving as the Philharmonic’s artist-in-residence this season, violinist Hilary Hahn returned as soloist in a pair of works that put her dazzling technique on full display. Alberto Ginastera’s Violin Concerto was completed in 1963 on an NY Phil commission, but has not been performed by them since the premiere with Ruggiero Ricci under Leonard Bernstein. Thursday’s performance proved a welcome return to the Philharmonic’s repertoire – an intriguing if uneven discovery, but the most substantial work of an otherwise lightish program. Though cast in three movements, there’s very little else traditional about its form, somewhat of an unwieldy construct.
Contravening tradition, the concerto begins with a five-minute unaccompanied cadenza. Hahn was arresting and commanding from the onset, giving the solo material – a veritable encyclopedia of violin technique – with searing conviction. The orchestra joined in for a series of six etudes to round out the first movement, going so far as to traverse studies in harmonics and in quarter-tones. Titled Adagio for 22 soloists, the central movement distilled the ensemble to a chamber-sized entity. Functioning as something of a concerto for orchestra, freely passing around moments in the spotlight without hierarchy, it was generally a restrained affair, save for a brief but acerbic climax. Rattling percussion opened the compact finale, and Hahn again impressed in her perfectly controlled technique in rapid glissandos, an elastic spiccato, and even an interpolation of a theme by Paganini (yes, that theme).
Though a showpiece, Sarasate’s Carmen Fantasy is intricately constructed, and served as a fun follow-up to the Ginastera concerto. The work unfolded as a buffet of beloved themes from Bizet’s great opera, as recast for virtuoso violin. Dudamel and the orchestra amply supported this blistering performance, landing on quite a bombastic rendition of the Danse bohème. The audience all but demanded an encore; Hahn responded in kind with the Loure from Bach’s E major Partita — stately and pure.
Ravel’s Boléro brought the program full-circle, opening barely audibly with the omnipresent and indefatigable snare. Strings were strummed like Spanish guitars, and fine solo playing, especially the silvery flute and mellow saxophone, articulated the incessantly repeated melodic figure. Akin to a slow boil, the work's crescendo grew almost imperceptibly, swelling to a sweeping forte with raucous energy. Like the Sarasate that preceded, it’s a piece that can only leave a smile on one’s face. Mena’s original program was also to include Debussy’s Ibéria... a shame Dudamel omitted this, as I was left wanting more.
