Tonight, Riccardo Muti conducted the New York Philharmonic, with Radu Lupu joining the orchestra for Beethoven's 3rd Piano Concerto in the first half, and just the orchestra for Scriabin's 2nd Symphony after intermission.
As with the previous NYP program I attended, I had very different reactions to the two halves.
In the Beethoven, I thought I heard a pianist and a conductor who had rather different ideas about the music. Muti's Beethoven is strong, assertive, emphasizing sharp accents and forward movement, while Lupu's Beethoven is lyrical, gentle, a bit understated. I thought Lupu was at his best in the slow movement, and in the gentler or more whimsical passages of the first movement. Muti was great in the orchestral introduction of the first movement, but I felt not quite comfortable in accompanying what Lupu wanted to do when he came in. And I found the last movement too understated to provide the necessary contrast to what came before it. The collaboration definitely worked best in the middle movement, as Muti is a subtle conductor whose interaction with this subtle pianist was just what the music called for.
This is not to detract from the technical accomplishments of pianist, conductor or orchestra. The NYP gave Muti what he asked for, and Lupu played angelically well most of the time -- although I thought a bit slapdash at a few moments, especially in the first movement. From a front box where I was sitting, it also sounded like Lupu was doing a little vocalizing at times.... At any rate, I had a mixed reaction to the Concerto.
But after the intermission, Muti was free to go his own way with the Scriabin, and I think he is a more satisfying conductor when not collaborating with an instrumental soloist and free to go his own way, because his own way is highly informed by his expertise as an opera conductor. He really feels the drama in instrumental music, and brings it to vivid life.
The Scriabin symphonies are tough nuts for a symphony audience to crack. The movements tend to be overextended and rhapsodic, developing themes that are not particularly memorable. I find with the Scriabin symphonies that they are reasonably interesting to hear when they are being played, but it is difficult to recall what one has heard afterward, and only the most general impressions stick in the mind. What really struck me was how Scriabin anticipated Messiaen with his imitation bird calls in the flute in the middle movement ("Andante"), and how Elgarian the final movement sounded at times. Indeed, I thought that if one added a pipe organ to the orchestration and just shifted some chord progressions slightly, one could be listening to Elgar.
Speculating about this afterwards with my concert companion of the evening, we couldn't figure whether Elgar influenced Scriabin or the other way around, but then considered that in light of the simultaneity of their compositions and the unlikelihood of either having heard much of the other, perhaps it is just a style of music that was "in the air" in Europe at that time.
In any event, the NYP players covered themselves in glory tonight. As much as I admired their playing of the Brahms Serenade #1 on Tuesday night, I thought they were just as fine tonight, and I felt a sense of pride as a three-decade subscriber in the accomplishment tonight of the "home town band." They were awesome. The rich sound of the strings, the excellence of the winds, the fine balance of the percussion, all came together to create extraordinary textures and spine-chilling colors. This was orchestral playing at its very best. And, once again, I found myself envying the folks in Chicago who will have Muti as their music director. --- But I balance this against the eager anticipation I have to hear what Alan Gilbert will do with the Philharmonic, and look forward to next season. I just hope that the predictions that we will be seeing less of Muti as a guest conductor when he takes up the Chicago baton are wrong.