By Márcio Bezerra
Transcriptions and arrangements of celebrated works were very common in the 19th century.
In fact, it was through arrangements for piano duets that most people became acquainted with Beethoven’s symphonies. Young composers relied on income that such transcriptions brought in to sustain themselves at the beginning of their careers.
As the century progressed, the transcriptions, through what was called a paraphrase, took another turn and started being written as virtuosic commentaries on the original works. Thus, Franz Liszt’s famous concert paraphrases on operatic arias became independent pieces, played for their own sake.
With the advent of recordings, those domestic arrangements became unnecessary, and with a few exceptions, the practice was frowned upon, considered passé.
That makes the reason behind the Orpheus Chamber Orchestra’s latest program at the Kravis Center Classical Concert Series (seen March 4), which consisted mostly of arrangements of piano sonatas, the more baffling.
With the excuse of expanding the repertoire (this, from an ensemble with over 50 years of existence!), they started the program with the Allegretto movement from Beethoven’s Piano Sonata No. 17 (in D minor, Op. 31, No. 2, Tempest).
To be sure, the Orpheus Chamber Orchestra tackled the melancholy-tinged movement with technical precision and a most refined phrasing. But there was something amiss, especially the gripping sensation of inevitability that an accomplished pianist can get out of the cascading passagework so typical of middle-period Beethoven. In the arrangement by Zachary Wadsworth, the breathlessness characteristic of this Allegretto gave way to a suaveness that reminded one of Muzak.
The same can be said about the sole work on the second part of the program, an arrangement (by Heribert Breuer) of the Piano Sonata in B-flat major, D. 960, by Franz Schubert. Gone was the unsettledness that Schubert’s modulations take one throughout the extensive first movement. Given the inability of the strings of convincingly rendering certain piano figurations, the clarinet was given a prominent role throughout the work.
That is not to say that there were no moments of beauty, such as in the recapitulation of the first movement, or in the pensive way that the second movement was played. But, all in all, and especially given the high level of the Orpheus Chamber Orchestra, the program felt like a futile exercise.
Fortunately, pianist Marc-André Hamelin joined the group for a memorable rendition of Mozart’s Piano Concerto No. 12 (in A major, K. 414). Hamelin, well-known as a virtuoso who has tackled the most difficult works in the repertoire (stuff deemed unplayable by most interpreters), gave a sensible and delicate reading of Mozart’s jewel. His synchronization with the Orpheus Chamber Orchestra was nothing short of miraculous, especially given the fact that there was no conductor involved in the performance.
A standing ovation prompted Hamelin to give an encore. In choosing one of Prokofiev’s string-breaking Sarcasms, he seemed to come back to his element, even though the choice of encore did not seem to pair well with a program that focused on Viennese Classical works.