The Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra at Davies Symphony Hall
Despite having one of the best orchestras in the world right here at home, it was a treat to hear the Leipzig Gewandhaus orchestra in Davies Symphony Hall. The LGO, founded in 1743, is one of the oldest and most revered orchestras in the world. It has been led by Felix Mendelssohn, Wilhelm Furtwängler, Bruno Walter; it has performed all Beethoven symphonies while the composer was still alive, and brought the Seventh back to life on Monday night.
We plumped down in our seat, and there was something different we could not pinpoint right away, like being in a forest without the birds chirping: the musicians were not warming up, tuning, nor practicing the hairy parts of their program in that messy, random cacophony which usually precedes the entrance of the maestro. Actually, the musicians were not even on stage: they entered all together to take a bow and receive a round of applause. It was a display of German organization which repeated after intermission, but mostly it was good showmanship, putting the spotlight straight on the orchestra.
The maestro, Ricardo Chailly., and the soloist, Louis Lortie came out of the wing, and put together a masterful, vibrant rendition of Beethoven's piano concerto No. 5 (Emperor). Herbert Blomstedt, who was music director of both the SF Symphony and the LGO, was comparing the American and European sound in a conversation with us, and the LGO made the difference clear: warmer strings, a greater fluidity, a smoother sound, greater cohesion. The LGO sounded even better here than the Berlin Philharmonic which paid a visit recently (granted, in a different program).
The togetherness of the orchestra, the even balance of the sound totally impressed us. The pianist did his best to blend, but was an exogenous component nonetheless. It's like being friend with twins: you can hang out, you can have a good time, but your relationship will be less symbiotic than between them. And Lortie was a bit too subdued. It's rare to hear the piano overwhelmed by strings.
Louis Lortie found his stride in the softest, most delicate moments. He was technically pretty darn good, but maybe not as resolute as the piece demands. The rondo in particular is a beast. It transitions almost innocently from the previous adagio, where the pianist plays the theme of the next movement very slowly. It's like going up splash mountain: the theme will repeat in a flurry of chords at breakneck pace, and there is a sense of dread (for the pianist) and expectation (for the audience) until the canoe tips off over the edge for the fun ride. Lortie did make the most of it, and the audience requested, and received, an encore.
The second half displayed the orchestra's quality in Beethoven's Seventh Symphony. They were set for the concert in a different layout from the local band, with the violins split on each side of the stage: a particularly good decision due to the swirling quality of the sound and the interplay Beethoven puts in the violin parts. Also, we want these brass.