The tossed-off, obligatory contemporary opener has become a staple at orchestral concerts, so I was delighted when from the first moments of Sofia Gubaidulina’s 1971 Fairytale Poem it became evident that Rafael Payare was approaching it with love and exquisite attention to detail. The angular yet melodic violin melodies were incisive and beautifully shaped; the threateningly repetitive crunchy piano chords had just the right amount of “giant’s footsteps” energy to menace but not overwhelm the cello and woodwinds solos above. The overall impression was of turning the pages of a lavishly illustrated children’s book, with delights on every leaf; the evocation of the eerie forest in which so many of these tales are set was especially effective. If Payare was unable to keep the piece from sagging a bit at the two-thirds mark, I for one am willing to overlook it; the final climax and dissolution more than redeemed it.
Continuing to defy expectations, it was the slow movement of the Mozart Clarinet Concerto in which Payare and New York Philharmonic Principal Anthony McGill made the greatest impression. Usually it’s the outer, faster movements that are the most fun, while the Adagio is at best a breather, at worst a chance to catch up on sleep. Here, though, in the two Allegro movements Payare’s skill at articulate string phrasing seemed to have disappeared in favor of generic momentum. McGill is always great fun to listen to – his mastery of his instrument’s varied timbres, in which the middle register can sound like the low register when he wants it to, and the upper registers can sound as pure as a flute, is breathtaking. But it didn’t sound as though he and Payare had sat down to hash out a common approach.
The Adagio, however, was breathtaking. Soloist and orchestra were in sync, together projecting a prayerful yearning that arrested the attention. The superb shaping of melodic line that Payare had demonstrated in the Gubaidulina, shared and echoed by McGill, kept the movement taut. The orchestra’s pianissimos were astonishing, somehow both barely there and rock-solid at the same time. McGill’s encore, an arrangement of Amazing Grace by Jasmine Barnes, showed off the fluidity and agility of his playing while allowing for some jazzy inflections.
Payare exhibited some of the same strengths and weaknesses in Tchaikovsky’s Pathétique Symphony. Agonizing slower themes were nothing short of ravishing; faster writing for strings, especially violins, often lacked definition. In addition to the stunning pianissimos, equally effective with the larger complement of players called for here, the loud parts had punch and authority, the brass sounding as much like one giant voice as I have ever heard them. The prominently used low strings were thrilling, producing a sound dark enough to cast a shadow. Builds to climaxes were effective and exciting; more unusually, the release of tension after high points sometimes became a noticeable narrative effect.