Dudamel and the Vienna Philharmonic
The program began with Rossini's overture to La Gazza Ladra. This well-known piece from this obscure opera never fails to please, and Dudamel brought out exquisite playing from the orchestra. It's wonderful how Dudamel managed to bring out a warm Italianate sound from the orchestra, and it shows the incredible flexibility of this world-famous ensemble. The next piece, Tres versiones sinfónicas by Spanish-Cuban composer Julián Obrón -- a pupil of Aaron Copland, mixes harmonies reminiscent of the American composer with the Afro-Cuban rhythms of Obrón's adopted homeland (he was born in Spain and became a Cuban citizen). Obrón is pretty much a minor figure in 20th century music, and largely unknown in the United States. Whereas thumbnail pictures of the composers were included in the Carnegie Hall playbill, Obrón's likeness was curiously absent. Despite the relative obscurity of many Hispanic classical composers and their music, Dudamel has always been a champion of the composers of the continent of his birth, and his passionate reading of Obrón's rhythmic score had him doing some fancy angular movements on the podium, and oftentimes leaping in the air. He also chose to have key players of the orchestra stand while playing selected passages of the score. This directorial decision has become a Dudamel trademark.
Leonard Bernstein's Divertimento for Orchestra opened the second half of the program. It is a curious piece made up of miniature movements ranging from Latin dances to a Turkey Trot and finishing with a rousing but dissonant march reminiscent of Charles Ives. The piece, which was commissioned in 1980 for the 100th anniversary of the Boston Symphony Orchestra, is one of the composer's late works, and it feels as if Lenny dug into his trunk and found up a few musical ideas that he weaved together for this composition.
The evening ended with two pieces of Maurice Ravel. The short elegy for a dead child, Pavane pour une infante défunte, is a tender composition whose enigmatic title is a companion piece to the composer's other homage to Spanish culture Alborada del Gracioso. The melodic score allowed Dudamel to shape the long phrases with a delicate hand, and the orchestra responded by playing it so sumptuously that it easily turned out to be the highlight of the evening. Bolero, which ended the printed program, began so quietly that you had to bend an ear to hear the opening bars. Before long, it carefully build to a thunderous climax. It was exciting to witness the violin players of the Vienna Philharmonic digging into their instruments with such wild abandon and musical precision at the same time. This is the kind of sound that few orchestras are able to produce successfully.
The audience greeted the program with a rousing standing ovation, and Dudamel took his bows standing in the midst of the orchestra, his customary spot during curtain calls. It's not that he's shy; he clearly enjoys the limelight that his talents have brought him, but this is an artist with a humble streak that always wants to remind us that despite his superstar status he is only a musician, just like the rest of the players on stage. But what a musician, and what an orchestra he led tonight! The kind of concert where everyone -- including the performers -- left the hall wearing a smile.