As Joe Hisaishi prepared to give the Philadelphia Orchestra the downbeat on his Symphony no. 2, a toddler in the audience let out an enthusiastic yawp, briefly sending Marian Anderson Hall into hysterics. The maestro lowered his baton and, with an impish smile, acknowledged the moment. It was one of several signs that we shouldn’t expect a typical classical concert from the visiting composer/conductor, whose work is associated with the beloved animated films of Hayao Miyazaki – along with the spectators who arrived dressed as characters from their favorite Studio Ghibli movies. Rescheduled from January, Hisaishi seemed intent on giving the crowd exactly the experience they desired, and his undeniable showmanship compensated for some blandness in his non-soundtrack music.

Joe Hisaishi © NIck Rutter
Joe Hisaishi
© NIck Rutter

Hisaishi composed his Symphony no. 2 at the height of the pandemic and premiered it in 2023. The first movement, What the World Is Now?, offered a riot of colors from every section of the orchestra, but it also felt hampered by musical ideas that persisted without development. If Hisaishi sought to replicate the swirling uncertainty of the COVID moment – underlined perhaps by the question mark in the movement’s title – he succeeded, but he also ended up calling to mind the stultifying sameness of that time. The second movement, Variation 14, unfolded with playfulness as the orchestra dissected the workings of a simple tune. The piece truly caught fire in the third and final section, Nursery Rhyme. Nodding to Mahler, one of his favorite composers, Hisaishi repurposed a Japanese folk tune, beginning in the double basses – anchored here by the wonderfully expressive Joseph Conyers.

The second half of the concert continued to show off the orchestra’s players to solid effect, opening with Hisaishi’s two-movement Viola Saga. Principal Violist Choong-Jin Chang acted as soloist, drawing a deep chestnut color from his instrument, and moving effortlessly from the piece’s doleful introduction to its spirited, rhythmic central section. Hisaishi balanced the dialogue between orchestra and soloist nicely, drawing particularly vibrant playing from the strings and percussion that contrasted the viola’s mellow tone. However short, though, the piece grew repetitive over time.

There was no doubt that the audience was here for the Spirited Away Suite, which closed the printed program. It was the first time I’ve seen a piano simply being wheeled on stage garner applause! The collective swoon that greeted the major ninths that form the backbone of Chihiro’s theme told you everything you needed to know about the experience – it would be nostalgic and overwhelming. Hisaishi moved seamlessly from the piano’s bench to the conductor’s podium, creating a cinematic universe without a single projected image. The marriage of harp and flute were especially vivid in Dragon Boy, underscored by David Kim’s solo violin line, and the thunderous brass and timpani blare in No Face. The Philadelphia Orchestra’s signature shimmer was perfectly suited to the section called Reprise, which depicts one of the film’s most memorable scenes – rising from the woodwinds to the strings, brass and percussion, it created the sensation of soaring through the air.

Hisaishi gratefully acknowledged the enthusiastic response at the suite’s conclusion, which he generously shared with his colleagues onstage – shaking more hands than a political candidate. He sent the crowd home with one of his best known pieces, World Dream, as an encore.

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