Since his unexpected Cleveland Orchestra debut as a last-minute substitute five years ago, local appearances from conductor Klaus Mäkelä have been enthusiastically anticipated events, an electrifying presence only further cemented by the recent announcement of his appointment as music director designate of the Chicago Symphony. This weekend’s program was a particularly colorful and enterprising affair, beginning with the 2012 work Perú negro by Jimmy López Bellido, a 15-minute tour de force that draws on Afro-Peruvian folk traditions.
A strident horn call opened, an invigorating introductory gesture before the hall became awash with orchestral color in variegated, coruscating textures that brought to life a bustling street scene in the Peruvian capital. Six folk songs were seamlessly woven together as a continuous tapestry, propelled by a relentless rhythmic drive, encouraged in no small part by the vast percussion section (inclusive of cajóns, cowbells, cabasa, jawbone, and vibraslap to name but a few). The horn theme resurfaced near the end over luminous strings leading to an electric close, marshaled with aplomb by Mäkelä’s virtuoso baton technique. There are exciting curtain-raisers and then there are bolts of pure energy – this was the latter.
Bringing forth soloist Sol Gabetta, Elgar’s introspective Cello Concerto was an altogether different beast, being written in the immediate aftermath of World War 1. Gabetta’s bracing, burnished tone chillingly spoke to the desolate post-war landscape, cresting to a rich, noble melody, a last vestige of Edwardian Romanticism. The cellist’s long, flowing lines were compassionately supported by the orchestra, and a more animated second movement showed her technical precision through the fleet, sprightly material.
The Adagio made for a lovely interlude, and the only portion Mäkelä (himself an accomplished cellist) opted to conduct without baton, as if to get closer to the heart of the music. The finale was rather more far-ranging, a summation of Gabetta’s best qualities. Her striking encore – Pēteris Vasks’ Grāmata čellam – reached into the cello’s highest register over a drone, and even included her haunting, wordless vocalizations.
The real discovery of the evening came in William Walton’s lavish oratorio Belshazzar’s Feast, scored for double chorus, baritone soloist and a large orchestra that embraced piano, organ, alto saxophone and offstage brass. Despite being written just over a decade after the Elgar, Walton’s offering is quite a bit more forward-thinking, uncompromising in its complexity. Blasts in the trombones opened, something of a call to arms to introduce the chorus alone, undiluted and direct in their presentation of text derived from the Old Testament.
Baritone Thomas Hampson served as the second star soloist of the evening, his rich, resonant voice proving to be an instrument of immense power. In the recitative passages, he not only delivered with crystal clear enunciation, but imbued them with genuine drama to skirt any tedious narrative qualities. But it was the sumptuousness of the choral singing that made the strongest impact, often exultant, always glorious, a testament to Lisa Wong’s thorough preparation of The Cleveland Orchestra Chorus. A central bacchanal was wildly raucous, rallying boisterous brass bands from the wings of the stage. The final minutes were a stunning display of orchestral and choral virtuosity – and heaven for the ears.
