This concert by the Orchestre symphonique de Montréal under the direction of guest conductor Fabien Gabel was tailor-made to display the sonic splendors of this virtuoso ensemble, with three works from the early 20th century bracketing a Philip Glass piano concerto.
Ravel's Le Tombeau de Couperin was written in memory of friends who had perished in the First World War. Originally a piano work, the orchestral version is a wonder of incandescence. Happily, those qualities were brought to the fore in Gabel’s magical interpretation. He was abetted by the crystalline tones of the OSM as well as the acoustical marvel that is Maison symphonique. In the opening Prélude one could hear the middle voicings that are sometimes lost, and the fleet woodwind passages were particularly winsome. The light-as-a-feather Forlane had the dancelike qualities remindful of interpretations from French conductors of yesteryear. The Minuet was elegant in its simple understatement, while the concluding Rigaudon was swift and robust, counterbalanced by a delicate middle section.
The Labèque sisters Katia and Marielle then joined the orchestra to present Philip Glass’ Double Concerto for Two Pianos and Orchestra – a work written for them in 2015. Glass’ music is something of an acquired taste, with sometimes-thick textures and musical lines that exhibit more repetition than development. The Double Concerto is a piece the sisters have presented numerous times since the premiere, such that their interpretation must be considered definitive. Certainly, this performance was authoritative, beginning with the opening movement and its carnivalesque atmosphere, as if remembered in a dream.
Broadly speaking, much of Glass’ piano writing in this concerto is in the middle register. Coupled with the thick orchestration, this could have resulted in a turgid sound, but Gabel’s deft treatment of the orchestra allowed much of the musical fabric to be fully revealed. Credit must also go to the busy percussion department, with its seven players excelling in both the rhythms and colors that their various instruments brought to the party.
Following intermission, Gabel returned to conduct two notable compositions based on the biblical character of Salome. The Dance of the Seven Veils from Richard Strauss’ 1905 opera has a life of its own away from the stage and it’s easy to understand why. Gabel’s interpretation gave us equal parts sensuality and drama, with highly colorful qualities. The same could be said for his approach to Florent Schmitt’s ballet La Tragédie de Salomé, which appeared two years after Strauss’ opera but which also anticipates Stravinsky’s Le Sacre du printemps. The Schmitt score is a kind of amalgam of two characteristics – the impressionistic and the epic – and in that sense it’s nearly unique in French music. Gabel’s Prélude and Les Enchantments sur la mer gave us the delicate colors of impressionism while showcasing spellbinding solo passages from the English horn and other woodwinds. These were contrasted with a goosebump-inducing Danse des perles, not to mention the final two numbers (Danse des éclairs and Danse de l’effroi) with their striking bitonality and jagged rhythms.
These two Salome compositions are ones that Gabel programs often – and often together. His interpretations dig much deeper than just the surface gloss, and under his leadership the Montreal players responded with excitement and ardor, delivering thrilling performances that will stay long in the memory.
