Brahms I

I went to hear the Pittsburgh Symphony last night. It was
the first time I've heard them do anything big. Mozart 25,
Death and Transfiguration, and Brahms' first concerto with
Emmanuel Ax.

First of all, I went at the last minute, and
was late (as usual). I walked up to the box office at 7:56
and asked for a student ticket, thinking I had about %10
chance there'd be any seats left. For $14 I was given perhaps the
best seat in the entire house for a piano concerto, E9,
right behind and to the right of the pianist. It was
perfect to watch Ax, but more on that later.

The concert began in a stunning way. After the usual
reminder to turn off cel phones, a member of the viola
section started speaking into the microphone. I was
annoyed, as I figured he'd be talking about a pledge drive
or something. On the contrary, one of the violists,
Peter
Guroff , had died earlier in the week, and this was a homage
to his memory. He was very young, probably mid 50s. He was
diagnosed with lymphoma 15 years ago, yet after that managed to win the
PSO audition and play for 14 years with the orchestra. The
speech was very moving and they left his chair (on the
outside of the orchestra) with some flowers on it, empty for
the concert. I could see the empty chair easily from where
I sat, and it added an ethereal poignancy to the music that
would come for the next 140 minutes.

Since I'm a big snob, and normally drive 3 hours to hear the
Cleveland Orchestra instead of driving 10 minutes to hear
the PSO, I didn't really know what to expect. It didn't
start out very well. The Mozart was mediocre. For much of
the first movement the strings and winds were a tiny bit
off, which for most any other composer would not be a big
deal, but it drove me crazy during the Mozart. I kind of
gave up hope of anything good until Ax came on. But then
they started Strauss' Death and Transfiguration. It was one
of the first pieces I played in youth orchestra, oh, about
15 years ago. I hadn't heard it for probably 10 years.
They played it marvelously. The sound was rich, the brass
powerful without crassness, and the oboist was great. (To
be fair, I should mention he was great in the Mozart as
well.) The empty chair during that piece, written by the 25
year old Strauss as a tone poem on death and transcendence,
was eerie, but added an ineffable weight to the time. I
recall Strauss pithy comment "I'm not a first rate composer,
but I'm a first-rate second-rate composer." It's hard to
think of him as a second rate composer during that piece
(though I don't share that sentiment for most of his other
works.) I was also reminded of Van Gogh's constant
self-denigration, and thus was reminded to take artist's accounts
of their own work with a grain of salt.

The highlight, though, was certainly Emmanuel Ax. He
radiated lift, kindness and mastery from the moment he
stepped onstage. He warmly shook Cardenes' hand, and the
piece began promptly. This has, over the years, become one
of my favorite works. So much of it that is so profoundly
great that, with my second-rate second-rate vocabulary and
eloquence, I couldn't possibly describe it. Amazingly, he
was only 27 or so when he finished it, and even more
amazingly, not only the public and the orchestra of the
first performance (Gewandhaus Leipzig) hated it as well.
It's so hard for me to imagine them preferring the long
forgotten empty firework-concertos of the day for this
work. I found myself continually wondering how many new
pieces I've heard (and scoffed at) that will be the great
pieces of 50/100 years from now.

Ax was energetic, communicative with the conductor (Jahja
Ling), and sensitive. The orchestra clearly liked him, and
responded in kind. They got out of his way, and I could
actually hear him almost the entire time he was playing.
It was an amazing gift to hear him.

There was a middle-aged conservatively dressed man
sitting next to me. He may as well have been at a
rock concert for how excitedly and exuberantly he listened and
applauded. I don't know who enjoyed the concert more.