San Francisco Classical Voice

Fortunately, the Haffner Serenade comes in several distinct sets, and Cleve wisely broke them up for the audience. Before intermission, Cleve led the orchestra in rousing performances of the march and the opening Allegro maestoso–allegro molto. The concert began at 7:30, so the still-brilliant sun filled the church with warm light and the rose window was simply dazzling. The setting and the music went together, lightening my heart with dazzling horns, enthusiastic timpani, and crisp, fleet strings. With this paired march and overture, I could imagine the bubbling anticipation of a bride's family.

After intermission, Cleve led the rest of the Haffner, beginning with the movements that practically form a violin concerto (of nearly a half-hour's length), followed by a celebratory set of dances and dinner music. Concertmaster Robin Hansen was the featured soloist, earning rousing applause for clean, rapid passagework. In this concerto segment, Hansen's playing — and the orchestra's — was vibrant and alert, thoroughly Mozartean but rarely surprising.

The Haffner wasn't quite everything, however. For starters, while still bathed in daylight, the orchestra played the first movement of Mozart's Eine Kleine Nachtmusik under the baton of James Rockett. The San Francisco attorney assumed the podium as part of the group's fundraising efforts, and he and the players made it a thoroughly enjoyable moment in the spotlight.

When the orchestra took a break from the Serenade, before intermission, its principals starred in the Clarinet Quintet in A Major, K. 581, a mature work much darker than the earlier Serenade. Mozart delighted in the mellowness of the clarinet and devoted to it some of the best work of his last years. Appropriately, the sun began to set during the performance of this masterful quintet. The bright yellow-and-white sanctuary took on infinitely richer peachy hues as Mark Brandenburg's clarinet beguiled our ears.

Brandenburg's tone was clear and warm, never heavy, with a smooth, plush, and rounded finish surrounding a solid, focused core. His playing was subtle yet direct. I particularly liked the pacing of the Larghetto, which was just quick enough to reinforce the sense of an aria but also superbly and patiently sustained. He played the movement with a wisdom and bittersweetness that reminded me of the Countess' great aria "Dove sono" from The Marriage of Figaro.

Brandenburg's concentration in this movement was matched by that of the musicians in the accompanying quartet. Hansen rendered the obbligato-like first violin part with cool purity. Violist Sarah Mullen provided some opulent countermelodies, as in the trio of the Menuetto. While the church darkened during the final variations, Mullen, Hansen, second violin Adrienne Herbert, and cellist Terry Adams deepened Mozart's forward-looking language with impassioned tone and Romantic longing. This created a fascinating tension with the laid-back clarinet part. Brandenburg's deftly articulated, whimsically ornamented return seemingly restored easy charm with a rousing conclusion.

The quintet proved to be a highlight of the concert. Maybe it was just a question of endurance, but the last 20 minutes or so of the Haffner seemed to drag on too long. By that time we'd endured four different minuets, with each succeeding one seeming just a little heavier to the ear, swamped by an unvariegated beefiness of the orchestra's tone. I bristled at the volume and weight of the orchestra in these last movements, as if dynamic contrasts made less and less of an impression.

Of course, that wasn't the whole story. As the church darkened and the sparkling blue rose window congealed to black, there were some very bright moments. The Rondo and the final minuet featured some memorably golden tones from the orchestra's flutes, blended perfectly with the violins. The oboes (both solo and paired) in the Andante were a model of taste, full tone, and supple phrasing. The trumpet solos were smartly crisp. Cleve never seemed to lose purpose in this sprawling serenade, as his constellation of stars rendered some very satisfying orchestral playing, with tight rhythms and a strong bass line. On a night like this, I didn't miss the sun a bit.

(Jeff Rosenfeld is an oboist with the Kensington Symphony, West County Winds, and Pacific Wind Ensemble. He is a freelance science journalist and author of the recent book Eye of the Storm: Inside the World's Deadliest Hurricanes, Tornadoes, and Blizzards.)

©2001 Jeff Rosenfeld, all rights reserved