This autumn has seen a succession of conductors making their Pittsburgh Symphony debut, and last weekend the opportunity fell to Venezuelan-born Domingo Hindoyan, who is poised to become Music Director of the Los Angeles Opera next season. Opening the program was a brief piece by Puerto Rican composer Roberto Sierra.
Sierra is a composer Hindoyan has long championed, having recorded a whole disc of his works with the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra, and counts himself the dedicatee of Sierra’s Sixth Symphony. Alegría (Joy) dates from 1996, and true to its name, was a vivacious, brightly-colored affair. As agreeable an opener as one could ask for, if a bit over the top.
Another exuberant work served as the evening’s centerpiece in George Gershwin’s Concerto in F, with pianist Hélène Grimaud as soloist. Thunderous timpani introduced the infectious Charleston rhythms — an intoxicating blend of big-boned Romanticism and populist jazz idioms. The piano entered by way of a stylized monologue; here and throughout Grimaud’s technique sparkled as much as her outfit, dancing and leaping across the keyboard. Blistering rhythms, fiery octaves and rapid glissandos were impressive sights and sounds. Yet at times the piano was buried beneath the orchestra, though that may owe as much to Gershwin’s novice hand at orchestration; astonishingly, the concerto appeared only a year after Rhapsody in Blue, for which the composer had to rely on others to orchestrate.
Languid trumpet began the slow movement, evoking a smoky jazz club more than a concert hall. Playful material in the piano provided contrast before the frenetic toccata finale. Rapid repetitions in the piano were answered by boisterous brass, culminating in the bold, broad-shouldered coda. As an encore, Grimaud offered Valentin Silvestrov’s Bagatelle no. 2, a beguiling miniature almost monastic in its directness.
Worlds apart from the Gershwin in its severity and introspection, César Franck’s Symphony in D minor occupied the second half. A thin thread gathered gravity to begin, showing a kinship to the symphonies of Anton Bruckner in terms of development and devotion. Following the introductory segment, a theme was presented with the sharp snap of its dotted rhythms. Instead of continuous forward momentum, Franck employs a constant push-pull — almost anticipating the glacial stasis of Sibelius — which poses an interpretive challenge, not always convincingly met here.
Moreover, the brass had a tendency to be heavy-handed, muddying the textures, though I loved the way the first movement’s close resounded like the cathedral organ Franck knew so well. Harp and pizzicato strings introduced a long-breathed English horn solo in the central Allegretto, an almost mystical effect achieved through this ingenious orchestration. The finale saw early hints of jubilation, transforming themes introduced earlier, though it was still a circuitous journey before the exultant was given the final word.
