If there is creative tension in pairing opposites, then the combination of Italian maestro Fabio Luisi and the NHK Symphony Orchestra, Tokyo offers a sterling example of the great music that can result. In an appearance at Prague Spring, Luisi showed a deft hand eliciting a full-blooded performance from a buttoned-down ensemble, and the orchestra show remarkable versatility in its handling of an eclectic program of Takemitsu, Berg and Brahms.
An accomplished classical composer, Tōru Takemitsu was also a film buff who added soundtracks to his portfolio when he realized that he could reach a much larger audience in movie theaters than concert halls. Excerpts from three film scores provided a tasty opening for the concert and, not coincidentally, showcased the orchestra’s strengths. Music of Training and Rest (from José Torres) featured silken strings and clever exaggerated bowing, Funeral Music (from Black Rain) struck a somber tone without becoming maudlin, and Waltz (the title track of The Face of Another) brought flair and a touch of effervescence to a melancholy melody. All that, and as the engaging flow of the waltz demonstrated, the orchestra knows how to handle rhythm.
An abrupt turn to Alban Berg’s Concerto for Violin and Orchestra was softened by soloist Akiko Suwanai, whose graceful, elegant style seemed a bit of a mismatch for the harsh atonal demands of the piece. Suwanai plays with a delicate beauty enhanced by the lush sound of her 1732 Guarneri instrument, which was lost at times in the brass-heavy sonorities of the orchestra. Still, she managed to lend an emotional quality to music that doesn’t seem to have any. And Luisi crafted a compelling backdrop, weaving an aural assault into a tightly focused, finely drawn lament.
The NHK is noted for its precision and polish, both of which came to the fore in a work so complex that Suwanai occasionally had to turn her back to the audience and face the violin section*, so the players could follow what she was doing. Luisi paced the music to let it breathe, adding colorful dimensions to a seamless, integrated sound. That level of technical finesse in the playing can sometimes make it seem mechanical, but under Luisi’s baton, the music had a powerful human character, an impressive blend of discipline and expression.
The conductor returned to more standard fare with Brahms’ Fourth Symphony, leading a robust reading that captured the richness and exuberance of Romantic music. Strong dynamics gave the piece a pulse and refined work in the woodwinds and brass added a glow to the middle movements, highlighted by a sensitive solo from flautist Hiroaki Kanda. Whether by training or natural inclination, the orchestra tends to stay within itself, never straining too high or dropping too low, which lent this well-traveled symphony a fresh face. The sound was at once compact and full, with crisp contours containing a bright, animated approach.
In a high-volume era, the performance offered a reminder that music doesn’t need to be loud to be good. Nor does the conductor have to engage in acrobatics to get the sound he wants. Across cultures and genres, understated expertise, close attention to detail and playing with proficiency will do nicely.
* We have been asked us to point for that this is actually written into Berg's score: “From this point the soloist assumes the lead over the violins and the violas which is audibly and visually noted by the audience as well.”
