Audiences for this week’s Boston Symphony Orchestra concert found themselves in the protean realm of transformation and shape-shifting. Taking its inspiration from microbiology, Augusta Read Thomas' Dance Foldings is a balletic, musical expression of a process integral to life itself: the creation and integration of protein molecules. Liszt’s Second Piano Concerto weaves a dense web of thematic transformations, and Beethoven’s Fourth Symphony toys with the listener’s expectations – at times playfully masquerading as something darker, costuming traditional forms in flashier new clothes.
Thomas counters the trope of the Dance of Death with a Dance of Life. Her score specifically indicates: “To be performed with dancers when feasible”. Although neither the world premiere at the Proms this past summer nor this, the US premiere, included dancers, the composer’s website features videos of protein folding, which gives some idea of what form that addition might take.
Folding is the process by which a chain of protein molecules achieves the three-dimensional structure necessary for functionality. Thomas’ kaleidoscopic musical interpretation of this biological phenomenon features chains of notes transformed by repetition, refraction, syncopation and shifts in pitch, articulation and dynamics. Some episodes are brief; others intertwine with new ones, and the whole piece is tied together by the introductory chain played by piano, percussion and plucked strings, which recurs under various guises. It’s a dense, propulsive, effervescent 13 minutes played with sparkle and panache, betraying the admitted influences of Stravinsky in its use of cross rhythms and Mahler in its incorporation of “popular” genres like bebop and the Big Band sound. Like any good composition, Dance Foldings transcends its premise. However, it does challenge the ear and might benefit from more breathing room as the folding process unfolds, something the addition of dancers or even a video of dancers might well accomplish.
A back injury forced the originally scheduled Dame Mitsuko Uchida to withdraw from her ongoing exploration of the Beethoven concertos with Andris Nelsons and the BSO. Fortunately, management was able to engage Jean-Yves Thibaudet, who spun a dazzling performance of Liszt’s infrequently performed Piano Concerto no. 2 in A major. More member of the orchestra than soloist in the traditional sense, the piano cedes most of the thematic material to other instruments. The clarinet, rising from a pillow of woodwinds, plays the first theme, which like Thomas’ reappears throughout, most memorably in the span of a few pages where it is first costumed in a military uniform in the section marked Marziale, un poco meno allegro, then takes the stage as a bel canto expression of lament and longing sung by the piano solo. Thibaudet’s dazzling technique was definitely on display in the bravura passages, but his emphasis was more introspective and on the expressive, lyrical nature of his part’s different voices. Nelsons and the orchestra followed his lead in this ensemble performance, with Blaise Déjardin’s cello serving as the mezzo soloist to the piano’s soprano. Anyone who has had difficulty with Liszt’s compositional style in the past would have benefited from the cohesive and persuasive theatricality of this performance.
Beethoven’s Fourth has always been a personal favorite for its playful toying with form and expectations and its mischievous allusions to his teacher, Haydn. The metamorphosis of the uncertain, fragmented opening, tip-toeing in the dark until it turns the corner into a brilliant (in every sense of the word) Allegro vivace never fails to raise a smile, nor does Beethoven crossdressing a minuet as a Scherzo in the third movement. Though a few passages were a tad too loud, Nelsons led a limber, light-footed performance that highlighted the contrast between dark and light, with the livelier movements amplifying the weightier lilt of the Adagio. Beethoven used the word Aufgenknöpf (unbuttoned) to describe the style of the Fourth. What few buttons might have remained were long gone by the time Nelsons sparked the perpetual motion finale and sent this listener off to the outside world with an unaccustomed bounce to his step.
