Orchestra of St. Luke’s Performs Mozart & Mendelssohn at Carnegie Hall

Photo by Jennifer Taylor


At the wonderful Stern Auditorium, on the night of Thursday, April 30th, I had the privilege to attend a splendid concert—presented by Carnegie Hall—featuring the fine musicians of the Orchestra of St. Luke’s, under the distinguished direction of Masaaki Suzuki.

The event started auspiciously with an admirable rendition of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart’s popular Overture to his magnificent opera, Don Giovanni, from 1787. The renowned virtuoso, Midori, then entered the stage for a memorable performance of Ludwig van Beethoven’s magisterial Violin Concerto in D Major, Op. 61, from 1806. The long, complex, initial, Allegro ma non troppo movement begins somewhat solemnly with an extended introduction that soon becomes more intense before the orchestra states the beautiful, chorale-like, primary theme—with the entry of the soloist, a greater sense of lyricism is afforded. Despite the gravity of much of the movement, the music here ultimately is broadly affirmative in character; after a challenging, suspenseful cadenza, it ends triumphantly. 

The ensuing Larghetto has a somewhat stately quality but is song-like too, if much more reflective and inward on the whole, before a dramatic transition to the ebullient—indeed, celebratory—dance-like, Rondo finale. In the latter movement there are, too, more serious, contrasting passages as well as pastoral moments—after a dazzling cadenza, it concludes jubilantly. Enthusiastic applause elicited a welcome encore from Midori: Johann Sebastian Bach’s Largo from his Solo Violin Sonata No. 3 in C Major, BWV 1005.

The highlight of the evening, however, was the last work on the program: a superb account of Felix Mendelssohn’s extraordinary Symphony No. 4 in A Major, Op. 90, the “Italian,” which was originally completed in 1833, but then was revised in 1834. Its fabulous, Allegro vivace, first movement is joyous and quintessentially Mendelssohnian, although more subdued interludes express deeper sentiments; a glorious fugal section is simply astonishing in effect—after a marvelous climax, it closes exultantly. The Andantecon moto that follows is march-like and noble in spirit, if relatively restrained—it finishes softly. The succeeding Con moto moderato projects a certain serenity, despite elements of tension, and ends gently. The Saltarello finale, marked Presto, is propulsive and dynamic, with quieter episodes, but becomes more passionate and concludes forcefully.

The artists deservedly received a standing ovation.