“The flute of the faun brought new breath to the art of music.” Thus wrote Pierre Boulez about Debussy’s watershed Prélude à l'après-midi d'un faune, the beguiling opener to Esa-Pekka Salonen’s two week residency with the Chicago Symphony. Both of Salonen’s programs present a telescoped view of music history in the wake of Debussy’s seminal work, from the immediate aftermath in the ballets of Stravinsky, to the music of our own time in major scores of John Adams along with the conductor’s own freshly-minted Cello Concerto, to be given its world première next week with Yo-Yo Ma.
Stefán Ragnar Höskuldsson was fully committed to the weight of the flute passage in question, sinuous and sensuous in its delivery. The pair of harps facilitated the music’s passionate swells, and additional solo contributions of note came from oboist Alex Klein and clarinetist John Bruce Yeh. Interestingly, this was the only work on the program Salonen elected to conduct without baton, which seemingly drew him closer into the orchestra, making much out of Debussy’s orchestration of utmost economy to yield an unbroken, magical haze of ecstasy.
Since its first performance at the New York Philharmonic almost exactly two years ago, John Adams’ Scheherazade.2 has traveled widely through concert halls around the world, finally reaching Chicago audiences Thursday evening. Clocking in at 48 minutes, it’s certainly no trifle and one of Adams’ most significant orchestral works in recent years. As the title suggests, it takes its cue from Rimsky-Korsakov’s durable suite, in an “updated” version that comes from the perspective of contemporary feminist, a response to the brutality towards women described in The Arabian Nights that inspired Rimsky-Korsakov’s original. Written for Leila Josefowicz, it features a daunting part for violin solo – much more substantial than that of Rimsky-Korsakov’s – representing a strong female character pitted against the orchestra.
In the opening “Tale of the Wise Young Woman – Pursuit by the True Believers”, one was immediately struck by the colorful instrumentation, written with a command of orchestral color to rival even that of its namesake’s. The horns were stretched to the upper bounds of their register, and a distinct Eastern flavor was achieved through liberal use of the cimbalom, positioned front and center and played by Chester Englander. The musical language was something of a departure from the minimalist pulsings of the pivotal Harmonielehre for instance, perhaps more cinematic (apt given its description as a “dramatic symphony” in a nod to Berlioz), but nonetheless comfortably congruent with Adams’ canon. Josefowicz’s athletic performance was breathless, yet this was more than mere virtuosity, but the work of an accomplished actor fully embodying her persona.