San Francisco Classical Voice

Those who can stand, do. That is the general rule of thumb for the New Century Chamber Orchestra, the majority of whose members (with the exception of the cellos, for obvious reasons) choose to perform standing up, as well as without conductor. Add to this a program which traverses a broad historical spectrum, and Thursday evening's concert at St. John's Presbyterian Church in Berkeley stands as a typical example of NCCO's refreshing artistic vision.

Today's early music groups' adoption of the 17th- and 18th-century practice of standing during performance has spread to a diverse range of ensembles and even become fashionable. Members of the contemporary group Eighth Blackbird all perform that way and the famed Emerson Quartet recently performed the complete cycle of Bartok Quartets afoot. There is much to be said for this approach: players are better able to establish eye contact with one another and are free to move with the music, potentially resulting in a more dynamic performance than that elicited from players strapped uncomfortably to their chairs.

Though played with modern instruments, the performance of William Byrd's Fantasia a 6 (numbers II and III) had very much the sound and sensibility of the viol consorts for which they were originally written. Several NCCO performers seem to have previous experience in historical-performance practice, while the rest (near as I can tell) follow their instincts exceptionally. All members seemed to find their own individual path, some even choking up on their modern bows to compensate for the lighter weight and feel of their renaissance predecessors. The resulting sound was an expressive combination of clarity and projection, the sustained notes clean and smooth, the moving notes crisp, the points of imitation brought out clearly within Byrd's engaging web of counterpoint.

The two fantasias were performed by two separate groups of six musicians (giving almost everyone in NCCO fair shot), placed just to the left of the stage. It would have been better to set the ensembles on opposite sides of the stage as well, not only to reflect the antiphonal approach common in Byrd's day but to tighten up the program flow by eliminating an extra procession of players to the stage.)

The audience was treated to an unexpected addition to the program: a brief "canon at the 16th note" for three violins by Ferdinand David, the violinist for whom Felix Mendelssohn's famed Concerto in E minor was written. This acted as a bridge to a performance of Mendelssohn's Concerto in D minor for Violin and String Orchestra.

This lesser-known sibling of the E-minor concerto seems to have become a familiar entity in the bay area of late in the hands of current and former concertmasters of the San Francisco Symphony: last week's performance by SFSO with newly appointed concertmaster Alexander Barantschik, and NCCO's performance here with former SFSO concertmaster Stuart Canin. Composed at age 13, it is an odd piece, showing Mendelssohn butting up against the restraints of his tutelage. The first two movements have a classical-era clarity to them but with uncharacteristic tempo changes and unexpected harmonic detours which prefigure the romantic Mendelssohn yet to come. The last movement finally breaks out of its skin, acting as a fleet-footed Dionysian foil to the preceding two, its gypsy elements and musical punchlines occasionally eliciting chuckles from the audience.

Though now in 19th century territory, the orchestra approached the Mendelssohn with the same sense of transparency and precision that they brought to the Byrd, setting Stuart Canin's impassioned statements into sharp relief. Though clearly modern in interpretation, Canin's playing is still clean, accurate and rock-solid. In the absence of a conductor, he does indeed lead the group at points, but not with physical movement so much as with the steady force of his sound. The orchestra, in turn, follow with their ears. Here the 'standing performance' practice worked to best advantage, the group functioning more as a tightly-knit chamber ensemble than as an orchestra, radiating a sense of joy throughout.

Performing Arnold Schoenberg's string orchestra version of Verklärte Nacht without a conductor, on the other hand, proved to be more of a stretch. There were occasional problems with ensemble and intonation (mostly in the higher registers) which would have benefited greatly by merely having an external ear at the podium. The orchestra also sounded a bit top-heavy for this particular work, the outnumbered celli and basses lacking the requisite 'boom' for climactic sections — something the addition of even one double-bass could help remedy.

Other than that, the reading was evocative. Schoenberg's superb orchestration achieved an imaginative sense of color and depth not typical of most string orchestra scores. The NCCO reinforced this coloristic approach all the more. During one passage a sustained low-register chord, played muted, near the bridge and without vibrato, penetrated an otherwise pastoral texture like some spectral, alien presence. Transfigured music. Transfigured performance.

(Michael Fiday is a composer, currently living in Oakland. In September he will begin his new post as Professor of Composition at the College Conservatory of Music at University of Cincinnati.)

©2002 Michael Fiday, all rights reserved