In most orchestral concerts, the strings provide the body and the background, timbre-wise; the woodwinds and brass supply the color. In Saturday’s concert by the Vienna Philharmonic and Riccardo Muti (their second program of three at Carnegie Hall), the strings, especially the first violins, were so vivid and intense that the winds seemed pale and pastel in comparison for much of the performance.
This was appropriate in Alfredo Catalani’s Contemplazione, an extended aria for orchestra. Catalani is best known as an opera composer – his big hit was La Wally – and there is a vocal lyricism to much of the piece. Muti has made it his mission to champion Italian composers who are not well-known abroad, and he made a strong case for this work, making it direct and emotional without being overwrought. The first violins were the stars of the show here with a breathtaking focus and weight. At the climaxes they seemed to somehow aurally expand, with the rest of the ensemble, not just accompanying but adding a bottomless depth.
Stravinsky’s Divertimento from Le Baiser de la fée (The Fairy’s Kiss) is excerpted from the ballet score of the name, in which he gave Tchaikovsky the same treatment he gave Pergolesi in the better-known and better-loved Pulcinella, rearranging, adapting and juxtaposing with his own musical vocabulary. I will say straight up that I do not like this piece, which sounds mostly like Tchaikovsky with the drama sucked out. This performance did nothing to change my mind. The relative pallidity of the winds was more telling here, and long stretches of the piece seemed to have no momentum whatsoever.
As the gentleman in the row behind me said at intermission, “Those were nice little pieces, but face it, we’re all here for the Schubert.” And yes, hearing Schubert’s “Great” C major Symphony played by his hometown band did not disappoint. Muti played tricks with time in the first movement; the opening Andante was so brisk that the unhurried Allegro seemed like an outgrowth of it, not a contrast. In the trombone section soli passage towards the end of the exposition there seemed to be two different versions of time happening simultaneously, a glimpse into a spiritual realm. By the development section the winds finally stepped up to be equal partners of the strings, which happily continued for the rest of the evening.
But it was the second movement that really gripped me. Every moment was sculpted, every transition specific. The long succession of sections and moods took on the character of a spirited and urgent internal debate, with high stakes and moral impact, a real hero’s journey. The Scherzo had less impact; Muti opted for a slowish tempo (for a Scherzo), at which the main theme took on a sort of dancing bear quality, reinforced by a Viennese waltz-type lilt. After the drama of the second movement, I had expected a party, but this wasn’t it.
The final movement again took my breath away. The violins’ gaudy timbral richness was on full display, but now they also got out of the way for the winds, playing supporting figures with the same finesse and intensity. For much of the movement, the violins play triplets every other beat, which evokes an ungainly, galumphing gait. Here it brought to mind an indomitable perseverance, galloping however awkwardly towards triumph.
