The musicians’ faces lit up when David Robertson approached the Geffen Hall podium. Stepping in at short notice for an indisposed Marta Gardolińska, the Philharmonic’s frequent guest conductor went on to lead a scintillating, thoughtful program pairing a New York premiere with two virtuosic selections from the 20th-century Polish repertoire.
The evening opened with an energetic account of Mason Bates’ Devil’s Radio, a zestful 10-minute creation inspired by the graphic Southern saying, “Rumor is the devil’s radio”. Similar in theme to former Beatle George Harrison’s 1987 adaptation of the same title, Bates’ 2014 version merges classical and popular stylistic elements. Following a brief, eerie opening in the strings, a mournful melody arises in the woodwinds, swells and becomes increasingly propulsive as it builds to a blazing crescendo. Robertson’s big, sweeping gestures drew colorful playing from each section, with concertmaster Frank Huang and his assistant Michelle Kim-Solman deserving top honors for their demonic fiddling. During the ensuing ovation, the composer came up on stage from the audience to share a moment with the ensemble.
Bates’ piece proved an appropriate lead into Karol Szymanowski’s Violin Concerto no. 2, his last major work before his death in 1937. Leila Josefowicz delivered a dazzling rendition of the rugged, astoundingly difficult solo part. Written between 1932 and 1933 and strongly influenced by folk elements, the boisterous score has been overshadowed by the composer’s more impressionistic First, composed 17 years earlier. Visibly joyful throughout its five movements played without pause, the American-Canadian violinist successfully conveyed its ebullient, rebellious spirit. She was most impressive in the vital cadenza connecting the two main sections. With its numerous double-stops, the technically demanding passage, co-written with composition’s dedicatee, violin virtuosos Pawel Kochański, draws on traditional themes from the Tatra Mountains region in southern Poland, intensifying the music’s modal and lyrical character. As an encore the soloist offered an intensely focused, equally masterful interpretation of an excerpt from Esa-Pekka Salonen’s Lachen verlent (Laughter unlearnt), inspired by Schoenberg’s Pierrot lunaire.
Since the start of this century, Philharmonic performances of Witold Lutosławski’s lively, radiantly clear music have been relatively rare. To hear Robertson’s nimble summoning up the distinctive sound world of the composer’s brilliantly virtuosic Concerto for Orchestra made one eager for more. Although less radical than other works in the Polish modernist’s oeuvre, there is much to savor in this ear-tickling invention. Composed between 1950 and 1954, it marked the culmination of the then young composer’s folk-influenced style with threads of folk-like melody melding into stretches of post-Stravinsky neoclassical exclamations. Robertson motivated the players to go for virtuosity, and they made the most of the many exposed passages, from the riveting opening Intrada, with its intrepid low strings and pounding timpani, to the vivid interplay of orchestral sections in the airy Capriccio and the otherworldly juxtaposition of sounds in the third and final movement, Passacaglia, toccata e corale, leading to a grand fanfare and a hair-raising, conclusive climax involving every member of the orchestra.
