When Dalia Stasevska was obliged to make a late cancellation due to illness, another conductor was afforded the opportunity for a debut with the Pittsburgh Symphony: Jacob Joyce, serving in his third season as the PSO’s Associate Conductor, in his first subscription appearance. The alluring and somewhat unusual program was kept intact, with two works from Finland flanking a sharply contrasting concerto by Leonard Bernstein.
Einojuhani Rautavaara’s 1972 Cantus Arcticus is subtitled “concerto for birds and orchestra”, employing an extensive series of birdcalls recorded near the Arctic Circle. The Bog opened with a pair of silvery flutes intertwined, introducing the avian interjections which cleverly melded the electronic with the acoustic as a seamless tapestry. The richness of the strings took over with a particularly fine part from principal cellist Anne Martindale Williams. String textures were desolate and serene in the central Melancholy, while the closing Swans Migrating was majestic in its simplicity and directness.
At the other end of the program, Rautavaara was complemented by fellow Finn Jean Sibelius’ Fifth Symphony, a work also deeply concerned with nature – and swans feature prominently here, too. A lone horn call opened, pointing to the hesitant, indeterminate opening material, yet it felt like more could have been done to create an air of mystery while the work finds its way. And generally, I found the climaxes to be more brash than brassy. The Fifth poses a great challenge to conductors with its frequent tempo fluctuations, labyrinthine push and pull, and a structural conundrum wherein the Scherzo is subsumed into the fabric of the broad opening movement. Certainly a test of Joyce’s mettle, he managed to be effective while falling short of revelatory.
The slow movement began with gentle winds and pizzicato strings, gaining traction as it pulsated with the life of the boreal forest. The payoff of the long journey came in the finale with its radiant horn passages said to be inspired by the composer sighting a flock of swans. And nowhere is the meaning of empty space better demonstrated than in the pauses that detach the chords that close, given here with intention and purpose.
In between these two Nordic works was a sojourn to the sunny acropolis of ancient Greece. A violin concerto in all but name, Bernstein’s Serenade after Plato’s Symposium couldn’t have been more different than the outer works. James Ehnes proved an incisive soloist, beginning with a monologue musing and philosophical, soon in an increasingly thorny dialogue with the orchestra. A brief central movement saw rapid-fire playing from both soloist and orchestra in display of Bernstein’s colorful scoring. The penultimate Agathon was very much the heart of the work, singing and lyrical at first, only to build to a bracing climax.
Densely astringent material marked the closing Socrates movement, with the scoring even embracing tinges of jazz. Ehnes was fluent across its eclectic styles, a sign of the wide-ranging conversation that only grew in urgency, leading to a boisterous ending. As an encore, Ehnes ambitiously offered Ysaÿe’s Violin Sonata no. 3, nicknamed “Ballade.” Over the course of a single movement, he displayed coruscating virtuosity and a wide palette of color – this alone was worth the price of admission!
