BURGOS ELECTRIFIES TANGLEWOOD FINALE
Author: By Richard Dyer, Globe Staff
Date: 08/29/2000
Page: D8
Section: Arts
MUSIC REVIEW
BOSTON SYMPHONY ORCHESTRA
Rafael Fruehbeck de Burgos, guest conductor
At: Tanglewood, Sunday
LENOX - "That is one hell of a conductor!" exclaimed a distinguished former
principal player of the Boston Symphony Orchestra after Rafael Fruehbeck de
Burgos had conducted Beethoven's Ninth Symphony to close the season at
Tanglewood Sunday afternoon.
The great Spanish conductor had collaborated with the orchestra, the
Tanglewood Festival Chorus, and a strong team of soloists to produce a superb,
inspiring performance of the Ninth.
A familiar marble monument came to life, moment by moment, full of
surprises. Above all, the performance was inclusive, with all of the
contradictory aspects of this masterpiece allowed their full weight; the Ninth
is about brotherhood, and the most disparate kinds of music appear within it
before they join in a great united hymn at the end.
One of the things that interests Fruehbeck more than most conductors is the
complex inner life of the music; he's not one to content himself with showy
manipulations of the melodic line. Instead, he observes, hears, brings out all
of the connections and internal echoes, the movement of the voices in
counterpoint. In the scherzo, for example, rhythmic and motivic details
ricocheted and rebounded in some kind of atomic dance.
In the slow movement, one kept hearing things one had never noticed before.
Toward the end, the trumpets announce three repeated notes as a fanfare.
Fruehbeck showed us that it doesn't come out of nowhere; instead, that pattern
occurs throughout the movement, usually in accompaniment figures.
The finale was glorious. The recitatives were varied, the way a great
singer might deliver them.
The immortal tune emerged from the bass section in a wonderously hushed
pianissimo that recalled how Klaus Tennstedt had handled this passage 20 years
ago.
The bassoon counterpoint was for once balanced with this - you could hear
both, quite clearly. Every aspect of the finale brought unexpected detail, but
Fruehbeck never lost momentum, and every episode took its place in the
structure.
The Tanglewood Festival Chorus, singing by heart, really poured out the
tone, even at the cost of some strain in the tenor section; the cry of "vor
Gott!" was thrilling.
The solo quartet was impressive. The bass, Reinhard Hagen, led off
sonorously, and with dramatic effect as he banished discord. Soprano Christine
Brewer has a large, bright, pealing voice. She has a tendency to fly sharp,
but she usually caught herself in the nick of time. Mezzo-soprano Nancy
Maultsby produced opulent tone in a role that doesn't often get it.
And it was a nice gesture for the BSO to engage Marcus Haddock to sing the
tenor part. Twenty years ago, Haddock was one of the most promising locally
trained singers, a student of Phyllis Curtin at Boston University and at
Tanglewood, and one of the most reliable performers for the young Boston Lyric
Opera. The first time he was reviewed in the Globe, in 1981, he sang Almaviva
in a summer production of "The Barber of Seville" opposite the Rosina of
Lauren Flanigan, who is now as prominent in America as Haddock is in Europe.
He has spent most of the last 15 years singing leading roles in Germany,
France, and Italy (including La Scala). He has made several small-label
recordings of unusual operas, and Naxos has a "Werther" forthcoming in which
Haddock takes the title role.
Still slender, but now bearded and distinguished-looking, Haddock handled
the exposed tenor part in the Beethoven Ninth with admirable, sturdy
musicianship and projection that reminded this listener of Jan Peerce, and
with a gleam on the high B-flat that was entirely Haddock's own.
The 12,671 listeners created a formidable traffic jam beforehand and a
tremendous ovation for the performers, and especially for Fruehbeck, at the
end. Music holds few experiences more thrilling than combustible chemistry
between an orchestra and a new conductor - something that either happens or
doesn't, and there's no predicting it.
Hours later, at a filling station, I ran into a BSO player who was using
the other side of the pump.
"This afternoon is what it's all about," he said. "When you come off the
stage after a performance like that, you feel as if you have accomplished
something." That's the kind of event it was.
Search the archives again
|
