Composer George Benjamin Inaugurates ‘Project San Francisco’

By Eman Isadiar

Guest conductor David Robertson led the San Francisco Symphony in music by British composer George Benjamin, the first resident artist of the orchestra’s new “Project San Francisco” program. The season’s latest concert also included works by Debussy and Mendelssohn.

British Composer George Benjamin is featured as San Francisco Symphony’s resident artist in “Project San Francisco” (photo by Betty Freeman)

George Benjamin comes to us by way of Paris, where he studied as a precocious teenager at the Conservatoire with one of the brightest musical luminaries of the last century, Olivier Messiaen.

Now 50, Benjamin is noted equally for his painstaking and meticulous writing style, and—not surprisingly—for the fewness of the works he has produced since being a favored student of Messiaen in the ‘70s.

The program opened with Benjamin’s 1985 work titled Jubilation for orchestra and a chorus of about 100 children’s voices, sung here by the Allegro chorus of Berkeley’s Crowden School. The imposing size of the orchestra and Benjamin’s rich tonal palette in Jubilation would win over even the most averse of patrons to contemporary music.

Guest conductor David Robertson led the San Francisco Symphony in Jubliation and Dance Figures by George Benjamin (photo courtesy of San Francisco Symphony).

Leading such a large ensemble, some of whose youthful singers also doubled as clave players, required attention to a dizzying level of detail. The challenge was a perfect match for St. Louis Symphony music director David Robertson, who appears frequently as a guest conductor of the San Francisco Symphony.

Then followed Debussy’s Three Etudes for the piano, orchestrated by Swiss composer Michael Jarrell.

The études by Debussy were conceived as technical exercises, which, similar to the études of Chopin, serve not only to enhance the pianist’s skill, but are also each a gem of great musical brilliance. These pieces are doubly precious as they also represent Debussy’s very last works for the piano near the end of his battle with cancer.

The first étude features quickly repeated notes, while the second focuses on bringing out individual melodic lines in a thick harmonic setting. The last etude deals with the difficulties of playing parallel block chords moving in rapid succession.

Jarrell’s orchestration closely follows Debussy’s own orchestral model, and retains much of the musical value of the études. Surprisingly, even the educational component intended by Debussy seems to be present, but transferred from keyboard to strings.

Next on the program were Benjamin’s Dance Figures—a collection of nine short pieces adapted from the original piano version to an orchestral accompaniment for dance, or as a stand-alone symphonic concert piece. With a creative voice uniquely his own, Benjamin’s Figures range from intrigue to exuberance; from introspection to excitement.

A distinctly French thread ran through the first half of the program, with music by a composer whose formative years were shaped at the Paris Conservatoire, the orchestral reincarnation of piano works by the founder of French impressionism, and a conductor with a distinguished set of artistic tenures in both Lyon and Paris.

By contrast, the second half of the program brought Scottish-inspired music by a Jewish-born composer from Hamburg.

Felix Mendelssohn allegedly felt the first stirrings of what was later to become the Scottish Symphony while visiting Scotland as a budding 20-year old musician. However, he completed the work 13 years later at the height of his creative genius.

Typical of composers of the romantic period, Mendelssohn’s four-movement work follows the classical symphonic form as brought into practice by Haydn and perfected by Mozart and Beethoven. Yet the longing melodies of the second movement and the heroic motifs of the fourth bear the unmistakable mark of Mendelssohn’s unique musical gift.

The Scottish Symphony—a workhorse of the standard repertoire—provided a well-balanced ending to an evening whose goal was clearly to introduce the San Francisco public to the music of George Benjamin.

As part of the symphony’s “Project San Francisco,” Benjamin will make multiple appearances as conductor and pianist in his own music as well as that of other composers through January 17. George Benjamin will be followed by cellist Yo-Yo Ma as the second resident artist of “Project San Francisco”, with concerts through January 26.

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Eman Isadiar teaches piano at the Peninsula Conservatory and writes about music in the San Francisco Bay Area.

San Francisco Symphony Goes Russian

By Eman Isadiar

While music director Michael Tilson Thomas was away on tour in Southern California, San Francisco Symphony’s latest two programs back home were led by guest conductors David Robertson and Charles Dutoit.

With the exception of Debussy’s “Prelude to the Afternoon of a Faun,” the concerts featured symphonic music by Russian composers such as Scriabin, Stravinsky and Rimsky-Korsakov. Anglo-Australian pianist Stephen Hough was the soloist in yet another piece from the Russian repertoire, namely Tchaikovsky’s Piano Concerto No. 2.

Valentine’s Day with Charles Dutoit

On February 14, guest conductor Charles Dutoit led the San Francisco Symphony in a program of Debussy, Stravinsky and Rimsky-Korsakov. Famed for his award-winning recordings with the Orchestre Symphonique de Montréal, Dutoit’s flair for the romantic made this performance a memorable tribute to Saint Valentine.

Greek Mythology Set to French Music

Debussy’s Prélude à l’apres-midi d’un faune (Prelude to the Afternoon of a Faun) got the evening off to a cosy start. Inspired by a poem by Stéphane Mallarmé, the music of Debussy depicts a faun, who, while playing his pan-pipes in the woods, chases a group of nymphs. But the creatures seem to vanish, and the faun falls asleep in the afternoon heat, drifting in sensual thoughts and visions.

Dutoit’s affinity for Debussy was apparent from the famous opening—seven falling notes of the chromatic scale played by solo flute—leading to a rather intimate rendition of this important piece of the French repertoire. The absence of a baton in conducting the Prélude was a telling indication of the Dutoit’s sensitive interpretation.

A Neoclassical Symphony

Next on the program was Stravinsky’s Symphony in C, the product of a particularly difficult period in the composer’s life marked by the death of his daughter, wife and mother from tuberculosis, and being himself diagnosed with the disease. The four-movement work was begun in Europe and finished in the United States.

Although Stravinsky’s Symphony in C does not enjoy the wide popularity of his ballet music, it represents the composer at the height of his stylistic maturity. Nearly a quarter of a century after The Rite of Spring, the symphony shares many of the same musical elements, such as its intricate, syncopated rhythms and blasts from the brass section in the most dramatic moments.
With an impressively wide dynamic range, Dutoit had complete and absolute control of the orchestra, which is as much a credit to the conductor as it is to the musicians.

The Symphony in C is clearly a modern work of daring originality with its simultaneous use of multiple tonalities and complex harmonies. Yet it demonstrates a return to baroque and classical values in its use counterpoint and strict thematic structure. This style of writing known as “neoclassicism” came into existence during the period between the two world wars, and was supported by Stravinsky and his contemporary Prokofiev among others.

“Arabian Nights” with a Russian Twist

After intermission came the evening’s centerpiece: Rimsky-Korsakov’s symphonic suite Scheherazade, considered one of the most important musical landmarks of the Russian romantic repertoire.

This was also where the musical gift of Maestro Charles Dutoit came to full view with dazzling brilliance.

Nicolai Rimsky-Korsakov belongs to a group of five Russian composers known as “The Mighty Handful”, whose mission was to establish a uniquely Russian identity in their music. Their inspiration came from well-known children’s stories from the heartland and exotic folk tales from the remotest corners of the Russian Empire.

Named after its famous narrator, Scheherazade draws from the vast collection of Persian tales called One Thousand and One Nights (also known as Arabian Nights). According to the legend, each of the concubines in a certain sultan’s harem is put to death after her purpose has been fulfilled during a nightly visit by the sovereign.

One clever concubine named Scheherazade comes up with the idea to entertain the Sultan until dawn by telling a captivating story with a suspenseful cliff-hanger every night for a thousand and one nights, thus delaying her own death.

Each of the suite’s four movements opens with a haunting melody on the violin, representing the narrator’s introduction as she takes the sultan on a journey of the mind with a new tale. Russian violinist and concertmaster of the San Francisco Symphony Alexander Barantschik played these with the utmost musical finesse and mastery.

Charles Dutoit’s precise conducting brought out in stunning clarity some of the musical details that are often lost in the rich harmonic texture of Rimsky-Korsakov’s music. Dutoit’s sweeping fortes and delicate pianissimos left the audience breathless and in awe.

With a lengthy and whole-hearted standing ovation, San Francisco fans seemed to wish Dutoit the best as he begins his tenure this year as artistic director of London’s Royal Philharmonic Orchestra.

Robertson Conducts Tchaikovsky and Scriabin with a Dash of Humor

On Friday, February 6, David Robertson conducted an exceptional performance of Tchaikovsky’s seldom-performed Piano Concerto No. 2 with soloist Stephen Hough, followed by Scriabin’s Poems of Ecstasy.

The audience was caught slightly off-guard with Robertson’s humor from the stage as he introduced himself first in the style of a restaurant waiter, listing the evening’s musical specials, and quickly slipped into the role of a flight attendant preparing the audience for takeoff.

Contrary to commonly accepted concert hall etiquette, Robertson encouraged the audience to applaud after only the first movement of Tchaikovsky’s three-movement concerto. This was done perhaps in anticipation of the extravagant orchestral ending of the first movement likely to compel some audience members to burst into premature applause.

The Forgotten Concerto

Only a few measures into the first movement, it became abundantly clear why Tchaikovsky’s Second Piano Concerto is so rarely performed. It is a work of arresting technical difficulty, marked by furiously flying octaves and three cadenzas, where the orchestra comes to a complete stop allowing the soloist to take center stage.

While the concerto remains in relative obscurity due to its technical challenges, it contains Tchaikovsky’s unmistakable lush orchestration, largely exaggerated dynamics, and passionate melodies in the “cello” range of the piano. The audience’s thunderous applause after the first movement came as no surprise given the conductor’s pre-approval.

Following a bell-shaped musical scheme, the second movement contained passages of sublime beauty, falling as though in fragrant clusters from Hough’s fingertips. This movement was framed by a delicate lyrical dialogue between the violin (Alexander Barantschik) and cello (Michael Grebanier), each pretending to be the other by playing in that instrument’s register. The dialogue was delivered with such skill that, without the visual cues, it would have been difficult to tell the two instruments apart.

The third movement was rather jovial, with hints of Russian folk dances as the piano’s principal melody is written for both hands two octaves apart, creating a gypsy-like sound. Tchikovsky uses a similar effect in the opening of the final movement of the First Concerto.

The technical bravado of the first movement once again returns in the third, although to a lesser degree. An exciting accelerando marks the final passage of the concerto, reaching supersonic speeds and ending in an awesome surge of symphonic sound. The audience showed not even a moment’s hesitation before leaping to a standing ovation.

Scriabin’s Controversial Harmonies

Scriabin’s orchestral work Poems of Ecstasy is post-romantic in style, probably influenced by the music of Richard Wagner. In Scriabin’s Poems the consonant, peaceful intervals of thirds and sixths do not occur unless they are accompanied by the dissonant, tense intervals of a tritone or seventh, in an attempt to express a certain sense of longing.

The music keeps swelling harmonically, going from one dominant harmony to another without a sense of resolution while the tension builds up. Since this work is performed widely all over the world, audience reactions are known to differ widely.

Some feel a sense of disorientation in the ever-drifting tonalities, thereby losing their sense of musical direction, while others are able to maintain their focus on the anticipated final resolution. Perhaps this is why the composer himself advises us to “look at the eye of the sun” when listening to the Poems of Ecstasy.

After twenty minutes of thickening clouds of unresolved leading tones, a long overdue major triad finally bursts through. David Robertson led a flawless performance. However, the unfortunate recurrence of a piercing electronic alarm from an unknown source inside the hall destroyed this otherwise unblemished concert.

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Eman Isadiar teaches piano at the Peninsula Conservatory and writes about music in the Bay Area.

Photos: Courtesy of San Francisco Symphony.