Esa-Pekka Salonen returns to Cleveland and introduces his Cello Concerto

The Cleveland Orchestra’s tour this summer included a stop in Helsinki for the first time since 1965. It seems the favor has been returned here in Cleveland with a celebration of Finnish music and musicians. Not having guest conducted the TCO in 21 years, Esa-Pekka Salonen made an eagerly-anticipated return in a program that paired his own work with a Sibelius symphony. And next weekend sees an appearance from Salonen’s younger compatriot, Klaus Mäkelä.

Serving as a prelude to the Finnish repertoire was Ravel’s Le Tombeau de Couperin. Lithe and delicate, its mesmerizing charm seemed a blissful escape from the backdrop of World War 1, celebrating rather than mourning the friends the composer lost during the war. The intricacies were conveyed through Salonen’s graceful conducting, and very fine playing from principal oboe Frank Rosenwein. 

The 2017 premiere of Salonen’s Cello Concerto with Yo-Yo Ma and the Chicago Symphony is a concert memory I particularly cherish. In the years that have intervened, the concerto has been performed widely and embraced by other cellists – I note this counts as the tenth review of the work here on Bachtrack. This weekend it served as a platform for the Cleveland debut of cellist Senja Rummukainen, who has performed the work before, but never with the composer at the podium.

Beginning in kaleidoscopic chaos, the array of colors from the expansive orchestra was nearly overwhelming. Long and lyrical, the cello line emerged, offering a source of clarity amidst the orchestra’s disorder. Rummukainen’s deeply resonant tone gave matters an introspective, meditative quality; in revisiting the work, I was struck by how gorgeous much of the writing is. A detailed dialogue between cellist and orchestra proceeded, guided by Salonen’s insight into his own conception. In his written remarks, Salonen likened the cello line to the cosmic path of a comet’s tail. Indeed, it seemed to subsume all in its wake, fading away by movement’s end to leave behind a trail of only stardust. 

The central movement recalled the dense astringency of the opening, but here it pointed the way to the most remarkable of effects: a passage from the soloist was recorded and then replayed through an arrangement of speakers, allowing her to converse with herself from an earlier point in time. It’s a way Salonen has leveraged modern technology in the time-honored form of the concerto, upending the very notion that music exists in a fleeting moment that one can never revisit.

The ferocity of the finale was the work at its most overtly virtuosic, and included a substantial part for percussion brought to life by Marc Damoulakis. Even in the shadow of dedicatee Yo-Yo Ma, Rummukainen proved an ardent champion of the concerto, with a vast technique to boast. To close, the cello line rose and rose, cresting impossibly high, and augmented by the electronica dispersed through the hall. As an encore, the cellist offered Sibelius’ Theme and Variations in D minor. Certainly no trifle; how did she summon the energy?! 

With its complex form and ever-changing meter and tempo, Sibelius’ Fifth Symphony confounds all but the finest of conductors. The work opened as a broad, sprawling vista in this music of possibility. Everything fell into place with an exactitude that never sounded purely mechanical, and brassy swells gave a grand sweep, especially in the first movement’s blazing finale. The iconic “swan theme” in the final movement made a particularly strong impression, with the tempo slowed as if to savor such a glorious moment. After an evening like this, let's hope Salonen's next appearance does not entail another two-decade wait!