Photo by Chris Lee
At the wonderful Stern Auditorium, on the night of Friday, May 29th, I had the great privilege of attending a superb concert—presented by Carnegie Hall as part of its festival, United in Sound: America at 250—played by the outstanding musicians of the Philadelphia Orchestra, under the expert direction of Marin Alsop.
The event started brilliantly with an exceptionally satisfying realization of Ludwig van Beethoven’s magnificent Symphony No. 7 in A Major, Op. 92, which was completed in 1812. The composer referred to it as “one of the happiest products of my poor talents.” Richard Wagner described it thus:
All tumult, all yearning and storming of the heart, become here the blissful insolence of joy, which carries us away with bacchanalian power through the roomy space of nature, through all the streams and seas of life, shouting in glad self-consciousness as we sound throughout the universe the daring strains of this human sphere-dance. The symphony is the Apotheosis of the Dance itself: It is Dance in its highest aspect, the loftiest deed of bodily motion, incorporated into an ideal mold of tone.
The initial movement’s extended, Poco sostenuto introduction has a certain nobility even as it is pregnant with tension; its Vivace main body is largely jubilant and soul-stirring but the composer’s mastery of contrast accounts for its sustained sense of drama throughout—it closes forcefully and affirmatively. The ensuing, celebrated Allegretto is solemn and rhythmic, building in intensity, but alternating with sunnier, almost pastoral sections, and features an impressive fugue as it approaches its finish; it concludes abruptly, if somewhat tentatively. The succeeding scherzo, marked Presto, is dance-like and also lively, even rousing, but the Assai meno presto Trios have a stately quality—it too ends quite suddenly. The Allegro con brio finale is propulsive, even breathless in momentum, and generally exultant in character; it closes triumphantly.
The second half of the evening was at least equally memorable. It began with three marvelous works for a small jazz ensemble led by trumpeter Wynton Marsalis: Carlos Henríquez’s "La Cumbia de Paz," Nduduzo Makhathini’s "Unembeza" (arranged by Marcus Printup), and Elliot Mason’s "Origin."
The Jazz at Lincoln Center Orchestra then joined the Philadelphia Orchestra for a fabulous performance of three terrific excerpts from Marsalis’s The Jungle (Symphony No. 4), from 2016. The composer has said the following about the piece:
New York City is the most fluid, pressure-packed, and cosmopolitan metropolis the modern world has ever seen.
The dense mosaic of all kinds of people everywhere doing all kinds of things encourages you to “stay in your lane,” but the speed, freedom, and intensity of our relationships to each other—and to the city itself—forces us onto a collective superhighway unlike any other in our country.
About the first movement, he added:
“The Big Scream (Black Elk Speaks)” represents nervous energy, the primal soul of our city as maintained across time. It reflects on our Native American roots and the many forms of strife we have endured in an attempt to negotiate this small space with and without each other.
It is often urgent in expression, but also leisurely at times, and finishes quietly. On the fifth movement, he said:
Although we are gritty and brusque by day, we can also be romance, elegance, and sophistication by night. “Us” is what it means to be with, against, and up against another.
It is more relaxed and charming and becomes more playful as it unfolds, and concludes gently too. On the sixth movement, he continues:
The city is driven ever forward by more and more profit and the myth of unlimited growth for the purpose of ownership and seclusion. Some form of advertisement occupies every available space. “Struggle in the Digital Market” asks, “Will we seek and find more equitable long-term solutions ... or perish?”
This is energetic, even agitated at first, but it soon reflects a brighter outlook, ending softly.
The artists deservedly received a standing ovation.