In a joyful celebration of his 80th birthday, Leonard Slatkin took to the podium with his characteristic energy that really invigorated the National Symphony Orchestra. Conducting Brahms’ Third Symphony from memory, his signature charm and dynamic presence were on full display.
The evening opened with a notable rarity: the world premiere of a piece by Slatkin's son, Daniel. A film composer known for his vivid scores, Slatkin Jr's Voyager 130 is work that seamlessly blends concert hall sensibilities with cinematic flair. Vividly programmatic, it features inspiring brass motifs and sustained strings to narrate the Voyager spacecraft's journey through space, interweaving thematic elements from the Cavatina from Beethoven’s Op.130.
A synthesizer provides the electronic background chatter in the opening while tension mounts on the launch pad by the low mumbling on the drums. As the rocket enters orbit the leaders of each of the string sections play the opening of the Cavatina accompanied by slightly disturbing, disembodied human voices, speaking different languages (a reference to the rocket’s Golden Record). The piece culminates in a haunting silence as the oboe’s delicate notes dissolve into the void, leaving listeners to imagine the rocket continuing into fathomless space.
Irish pianist Hugh Tinney joined Slatkin and the NSO for Beethoven’s Piano Concerto no. 4 in G major. Showing great thoughtfulness, Tinney caressed the opening chords, to which the orchestra responded beautifully. Slatkin’s great skill is in being able to coax the best from each section of an orchestra: the strings here played with a warm abandon, thoroughly enjoying their melodies. Eschewing any type of flamboyance, Tinney was focused on the nuanced shaping of each phrase. At times, he produced muscular, powerful chords which gave away to pearly trills or ephemeral arpeggios.
There was an arresting contrast between the dramatic string opening of the middle movement and the serenity of the piano, Tinney shaping the delicate wisps of the pianissimo chords against the vociferous orchestral interjections. Jovial and graceful, both pianist and orchestra revelled in the finale’s crisp rhythms and witty dialogue bringing the first half to a triumphant conclusion.
Ninth decade or no, Slatkin showed he is still no slouch when it comes to the pacing of Brahms’ Symphony no. 3 in F major. Dispensing with the slower interpretations favoured by some, he took the opening movement at a brisk pace, the famous opening three chords exploding with energy. There were moments of much-needed reflection, such as in the second subject, but overall this was a passionate, moving account of the first movement. The pastoral idiom was well captured in the subsequent movements. Here Slatkin allowed the music to breathe harnessing the carefree spirit of the work. Without a pause between the second and third movement, Slatkin connected them as one arc. Here the cellos have one of the most beautiful and haunting melodies in all of Brahms’ music. Not infrequently, exaggerated crescendos replace real sentiment, but kudos to the NSO who unfurled the gossamer thread of melody with an otherworldly sorrow without once indulging in overemphasised dynamics.
The mysterious mutterings of the opening of the finale gave way to a brilliant burst of fire, a passionate declaration passed from the various sections of the orchestra. The horns imbued their notorious quiet final chord with majesty and grandeur that lingered in the air. Leonard Slatkin’s enduring spirit and artistry has brought us timeless joy and we wish him, as the evening’s sentiments echoed, ad multos annos.
