By Márcio Bezerra
The Kravis Center’s Classical Concert Series second concert in the new year featured the renowned Royal Philharmonic Orchestra.
Founded in 1946 by Thomas Beecham, the orchestra has a somewhat lesser standing than its neighbor London Symphony, perhaps because it is so often heard playing background for pop artists, and for its infamous Hooked on Classics album of 1981, in which medleys of classical pieces were played to a disco beat.
None of these “innovations” were, fortunately, present at the Kravis Center’s Saturday afternoon program Jan. 17, which, by comprising an overture, a concerto, and a symphony, was rather standard in format.
The concert started with the lesser-known Helios Overture by Carl Nielsen. A rather conventional tone poem about the passage of the sun throughout the day, it was expertly performed by the orchestra under conductor Vasily Petrenko. Its large string section was particularly noteworthy for its lush and precise sound, while the woodwinds and brasses added color without being overpowering. It was a promising start to an afternoon of music making that, unfortunately, failed to deliver after this initial success.
The orchestra was joined by the Taiwanese-Australian violinist Ray Chen for the Tchaikovsky Violin Concerto. One of the great pages of the Romantic concerto repertoire, it places superhuman technical demands on the soloist, requiring a player of superb mastery of all aspects of the instrument.
Chen’s first notes in the opening cadenza were impressive enough; he played as if he was improvising the passage, emphasizing the dramatic aspects of it. Soon, however, his mannerisms became tedious and his rhythmic and dynamic liberties sounded almost disrespectful to the great work he was performing. His facial expressions and body language seemed to indicate that he saw his passages as either funny or cute, but almost never heroic or expressive.
He toned his interpretation a little down in the second movement, but offered no change of colors, or even dynamics. It was as if he was bored to play a slower movement. His exaggerated, distorting antics came back in the last movement, nearly trashing one of the 19th century’s most beautiful (and, on its own, exciting) finales. Strangely enough, the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra and Petrenko did not seem to share Chen’s artistic vision, playing its part in a rather bland and neutral manner. It created a strange dichotomy.
Nevertheless, Chen did not fail to receive the obligatory standing ovation, performing as an encore his own version of Waltzing Matilda, in which he actually showed some restraint and sensitive playing.
The second half of the program consisted of Jean Sibelius’s Symphony No. 2 (in D, Op. 43). Written in 1901, it is one of the last successful attempts by a Romantic composer to add something new to a genre that had already seen its summit in the works of Beethoven.
Freed from Chen’s presence, the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra had the opportunity to show off its excellent musicians, particularly the brasses this time. Petrenko’s choice of tempi, unfortunately, were on the slow side, making the work sound more fragmentary than it really is; the lack of rhythmic drive resulting in many soporific moments.
It was a missed opportunity. One can only hope that the orchestra returns in the near future with a soloist more worthy of its stature.