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SYMPHONY REVIEW
An Orchestra Reaches Out
March 17, 2001
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By Kenneth Harrison
The former Oakland Symphony used to give little thought to the opportunities available in the greater East Bay, including Oakland's environs and Contra Costa County. Happily, the new Oakland East Bay Symphony recognizes those opportunities and challenges. On Saturday evening, the OEBS came to Alameda, a place partially frozen in time, physically close to, but in many ways 50 years distant from, the adjacent city. The concert was one of much orchestral eloquence, but in a context much like River City. Professor Harold Hill could not have done better.
Given in the Kofman Auditorium of historic Alameda High School, the concert was in many ways simultaneously a glimpse of the past and a vision of the future. Ancient wooden seats and floors squeaked in time to the footsteps and laissez-derrières of the latecomers (seated during both the first and second works, unfortunately). This regularity produced a rhythmic counterpoint to the sometimes rhythmically irregular music of Chen Yi, the evening's first composer and a prominent voice for music in the 21st century. The OEBS is to be commended for bringing to this suburb not only Chen's music, but also that of Ravel.
The Kofman Auditorium is potentially an acoustic treasure. As a historic building it is already on the National Register of Historic Places. Alan Temko has written eloquently of its architectural importance, but I have read nothing about its acoustics. Right now, the absence of any shell, and the resultant open wing and fly spaces, militates against quality sound. The string bass section might as well not have been there. The brass sound as heard from the orchestra seats was a muddle of inarticulation. There was no life in the string sound. Oddly enough, these problems nearly vanished during the evening's last work, Tchaikovsky's Fifth Symphony, which I heard from the balcony. A fine acoustical engineer could help focus the sound in this hall and make it a fantastic performance space.
Scott Parkman, billed as a protégé of OEBS Music Director Michael Morgan, conducted the concert. He started with Chen Yi's recent masterpiece, Momentum, truly an East-meets-West encounter. It opens with a simple three-note motif of closely spaced pitches and given out by a solo piccolo, here played beautifully by Michelle Caimotto. The sound is reminiscent of Chinese panpipes, playing the yin and yang tones of the music to follow. Another three-note motif, exuberant in its dramatic leaps, is set off in contrast. It is dramatically stated by the cellos and subsumes the earlier theme. Throughout the work are the constant interjections of the brass and woodwinds, impelling the piece forward with their sense of ever-increasing (read: Western) tension. A gorgeous pentatonic melody relieves the onslaught, bringing a sense of Confucian quiet to an otherwise-chaotic universe. The momentum of the piece comes and goes like the tide, giving a sense of the permanence of nature and its constant male–female ebb and flow.
The soloist for the Ravel G Major Piano Concerto was Elizabeth Morgan, winner of the OEBS 2000 concerto competition. A student at Juilliard, Morgan is possessed of an impressive technical proficiency as well as a fine rhythmic accuracy, well demonstrated by her youthful approach to the tempi. I have seldom heard this piece played faster. The work, bowing to the sounds of both Gershwin and the marketplace, is an engaging divertissement (which may have been Ravel's intent in writing the piece). The first movement was notable for some fine orchestral playing by Brian Anderson, trumpet, and David Granger, bassoon. The languid second movement demonstrated that Morgan does not yet have her hands well balanced, for the right hand was constantly overpowering the interesting rhythmic and harmonic material of the left. Understanding the importance of the inner voice, as well as the need for a more refined sense of rubato, is something that will undoubtedly come with age. The breakneck pace of the last movement did prove that she has the technique to play it fast! The argument was not convincing, however, as to the merits of that approach.
Finally came the well-worn Tchaikovsky Fifth Symphony, during which Parkman seemed to be attempting to find something new. Alas, he did not succeed. Perhaps there are new things to be revealed in this well-known work, but they can't be found by outrageously exaggerating the contrasts in tempo, making the traditionally slow ones ponderous and the quicker ones breathtaking. I might have been convinced by these tempo changes if Parkman had had them within his control. But virtually every such change was accompanied by one or two beats of faulty rhythmic ensemble. This orchestra is chock-full of gifted musicians, and the Bay Area is extremely fortunate to have so many wonderful players at its disposal. Yet when a conductor does not fix the basic matters of ensemble and intonation, even the best players have to rely on their collective resources. When they do, all the rehearsal time spent on detail will have been wasted. Still, Parkman seems to be talented and self-assured. He gave a credible reading of a modern score, managed to accompany a soloist even while seldom looking at her, and evoked some warm sounds from the Symphony. Seated in the balcony, I heard as warm and lush a string sound as I have heard from this orchestra in recent years. The prognosis remains promising for both conductor and soloist. This orchestra, and its leadership, deserve community support. Perhaps next time, more of Alameda's citizens will come out to reflect that. (Kenneth Harrison is a retired professor of music theory and instrumental music. He is a professional violist and was for many years associated with the Cabrillo Music Festival as Associate Conductor, Principal Violist, and Personnel Manager.) ©2001 Kenneth Harrison, all rights reserved |
