The music of Betsy Jolas first appeared on a Philadelphia Orchestra program five years ago, when the composer had reached the tender age of 93. Now 98, she’s still alive and well and living in Paris. She doesn’t travel much these days, but two works from her lengthy career formed the first half of the concert in Philadelphia last weekend. Jolas wrote Lassus ricercare in 1970 as a tribute to the polyphony of the pre-Modern era. Conductor David Robertson led a tranquil volley between brass, percussion and two pianos (one vividly doubling celesta) positioned on either side of the stage. The charming, accessible work served to disarm an audience that can be skeptical at best toward the music of living composers.
Some of that goodwill dissipated during bTunes, which immediately followed. Ever current, Jolas conceived this work, premiered in 2022, as a playlist of sorts, borrowing melodies and phrases from prior compositions. Nothing lasts more than a minute or so – a nod to the short attention span of the contemporary listener. The piece functioned as performance art as much as music, beginning with the concertmaster quizzically scanning around for conductor and piano soloist after tuning the orchestra. Finding no one forthcoming, she ascended the podium and gave the downbeat, after which a smattering of notes followed. It wasn’t until an abrupt pause that the expected musicians bounded onto the stage, as if dashing off a late-arriving train. First Associate Concertmaster Juliette Kang gamely filled the role of temporary maestro.
It’s tempting, if dismissive, to say this theatrical frame formed the most satisfying part of the concerto. Certainly Robertson and Nicolas Hodges gave it their all. Hodges possesses a deeply individual sound – warm one moment, angular the next – that suits complicated music. Yet so much of bTunes sounds like a parody of what audiences expect from “experimental” work. Hammered bass notes and broken chords collide, and at various times, Hodges must strike the keyboard with his elbows or the palm of his hands. The orchestral accompaniment reminds the listener of jazz occasionally, juxtaposed with spiky serialism. The warm colors effortlessly evoked by the Philadelphia Orchestra strings gave the work a slightly lush quality at various points, but overall, it seemed like a thought experiment in search of a musical language.
If part one of the concert challenged the audience, the second half featured all the hits. The Symphonic Dances from West Side Story sounded their best in subtler moments, where Robertson tapped into Bernstein’s great affinity for romance and Romanticism. David Kim (violin), Kirsten Johnson (viola) and Hai-Ye Ni (cello) formed a lovely trio to introduce the “Somewhere” theme. I would have liked a touch more loucheness in the Dance at the Gym, and although the musicians snapped their fingers on cue, the “Cool” section still felt a bit starchy. Likewise, while Copland’s Appalachian Spring Suite contained much beauty and sweep, a greater sense of rusticity would have been welcome.
