Yo-Yo Ma. The man is a box-office dream, a living legend who had an Esplanade full-house (1800 with the gallery filled) cheering even before he had played a single note. Such was the grip the American-Chinese cellist had on his audience, that every move, phrase and breath was held in special significance. His radiant smile, the way he leaned back on his stool, how he gestured with the bow upon completing a passage were multiplied to the nth degree as these heavily imprint on one’s consciousness. Yet something was missing.
Ma has performed in Singapore on many occasions, from a solo recital in 1993, multiple concerto gigs with the Singapore Symphony, fiddling and jamming with his Silk Road Ensemble, last appearing in 2016. All those events were lit up by his vibrant and sociable personality, backed by a big and gorgeous sonority. The last bit was, however, the loose cog in an otherwise impeccable complex that took on the challenges of Dvorak’s Cello Concerto in B minor.
The orchestra, led by Basque conductor Juanjo Mena, went full voice for the tuttis and piped down considerably whenever they backed Ma. The reason for that was Ma’s ability to fully project over the massed forces has diminished over the years. This was most apparent in the first movement, despite Ma’s best efforts. He was really trying and clearly still enjoying the music-making, but the commanding sound he once mastered has been attenuated.
The slow central movement, with its quote of Dvorak’s song Lasst mich allein (Leave Me Alone), saw Ma at his best – a pristine voice with perfect intonation and phrasing, how it should be without straining to be heard, the audience holding its collective breath. The Rondo’s martial mode held sway with Ma leading the charge, and few moments could match the beauty in his duet with concertmaster David Coucheron’s violin towards the end. The triumphant close drew the largest spontaneous standing ovation witnessed in years. The audience had clearly been thrilled and enthralled by Ma’s musicianship and charisma. He may not be the Yo-Yo Ma of decades past, but he is still the Yo-Yo Ma, soon to turn three score years and ten within a fortnight. Everybody deserves to hear him at least once, and his illuminating encore was the Catalan song El Cant dels Ocells (Song of the Birds), once a Pablo Casals favourite.
To catch Ma, the audience was first obliged to sit through Carl Nielsen’s Fourth Symphony, or the Inextinguishable. This was music that captured immense struggle, the full weight and momentum of which the orchestra responded with much brio. The opening was passionate with brass chorales gloriously helmed. Lightness and jocularity in the woodwinds ruled the second movement while strings painted a bleak landscape for the third. A furious string fugato ushered in the finale, where the pitched battle between timpanists Christian Schiøler and Mario Choo ensued before a tumultuous conclusion. Mena kept a tight ship through the squalls. He announced his diagnosis of Alzheimer’s Disease in January, but nowhere was that apparent in the performance. In short, he was proving to be inextinguishable.
