After opening the new Carnegie Hall season the night before with Russian music, Riccardo Muti and the Chicago Symphony Orchestra performed an Italian-themed programme.
If the evening’s two 19th-century works were inspired by Goethe’s transalpine travelogue, Philip Glass’ new composition The Triumph of the Octagon has a more mundane origin. When Muti conducted Glass' Symphony no. 11 in 2022, the composer saw, in Muti’s studio, a photograph of the octagonal Castel del Monte, erected in 13th-century Apulia for Emperor Frederick II. This was the initial spark for a quintessential piece of Glass, transcending mere depictions of physical reality, nevertheless calmer and less driven by relentless minimalistic harmonies than some of his previous works.
The only apparent reference to the magical number 8 is in the instrumentation: the 12-minute work is composed for oboe, clarinet, flute, harp and strings. Conceived to celebrate Muti’s transition to his new role of Music Director Emeritus for Life, the music itself embodies transitory qualities. The Triumph of the Octagon is an arch that starts with lower strings playing a lyrical theme, reaching a high point via a sequence of transformations, and then descending into unexpected silence. Delicately embroidered with unhurried harmonies and strategically placed accents to keep listeners engaged, the work was meticulously brought to life by the CSO.
Balancing Classicism augmented with a certain effusiveness and a more restrained Romanticism, Mendelssohn’s Symphony no. 4 in A major is arguably an excellent vehicle for showcasing the essential traits of Muti’s style, including his focus on clarity, faithfulness to the score and avoidance of overstatement. Resulting from the composer’s 1830-1831 trip to Italy, the score of the “Italian” Symphony appears to trace the progression from the majestic, scenic north of the peninsula to the passionately vibrant south. Nevertheless, Muti injected radiating energy and youthful insouciance into the Allegro vivace, while softening the abruptness of the saltarello-inspired finale and emphasizing instead the importance of the lyrical interludes. Neither the fugue in the first movement, nor the suggestion of a religious procession in the second, were taken too seriously. The horns in the Trio, evoking a hunt, were far from being over-solemn. The overall pace was measured, but not inflexible, while details were rendered with vivid gentleness, never with aggression.
Half a century later, a young Richard Strauss also embarked on a grand Italian tour, seeking his own compositional voice. The result was Aus Italien, his first mature tone poem. With its four-movement symphonic structure, brimming with descriptions of sunrises and forests, Roman ruins and Neapolitan atmosphere, it is not exactly the most cohesive of works.
The score needs a conductor of Muti’s skill and expertise to pull it together, and that’s exactly what the conductor did in this rendition. Helped by outstanding ensemble, every entry was signalled with the utmost precision, perfectly calibrating the balance between strings and brass. With great care, Muti shaped the dynamic ranges in Am Strande von Sorrent, arguably the most personal of the four movements. He underlined the composer’s debt to Liszt and Brahms, but also those moments that foreshadow Don Juan and Till Eulenspiegel.
A genuine Italian encore, the overture to Verdi’s Giovanna d’Arco, was performed with panache and subtlety, truly highlighting the remarkable bond and level of mutual understanding between the musicians and their maestro.
