Next came Volans’ premiere, a piano concerto called Atlantic Crossing that may well have generated high expectations in those reading his program notes:

The sea voyage from Ireland to America has always held a special place in the hearts of the Irish. [Volans, born in South Africa, is now a naturalized Irish citizen.] The hope of a new life, the escape from the Great Hunger — all of these are associated with this journey .… This gave me an image with which to start the piece, although it is not to be regarded as program music.

The piano was my first instrument. I began at the age of 10 and from 12 onwards started buying every Romantic concerto I could lay my hands on and struggling through them. Knowing that few pieces had continued in this line, I decided to write it in the same tradition.

A better title for the piece, however, would be “Atlantic Passages”, because the piano part focuses not on the melodic function of late Romantic concertos, but the virtuoso passagework. The sound is like a more dissonant version of the piano part for the first two minutes of the Rachmaninoff Second Concerto (which, except for provocative opening chords, is entirely accompaniment), with the orchestral melody and functional harmony replaced by rhythmic patterns instead, supplemented with a large battery of drums.

The piece has promise, but like all too many complex scores that receive too little rehearsal time, it needs work. The piece sounds over-orchestrated, with a lack of tone-color clarity in some sections. The drummers enjoyed their parts too enthusiastically, completely obscuring the piano whenever they were playing, which was often. As Volans remarked when I caught him during intermission, “There’s no accounting for adrenaline!” Stupendously as its arpeggios, scales, and exclamations were flashed by the placid-faced virtuoso Marc-André Hamelin, not hearing the piano part made it difficult to discern the differences between the “tempestuosities” at the beginning vs. the end of the “crossing.” Even miking the piano couldn’t ensure proper audibility, except for the few patrons in advantageous locations.

The premiere was by no means a disaster. The occasional static, quiet sections provided just the right amount of contrast. As in so much of Volans’ work, the interest level never flags. There is always something intriguing going on — when it can be heard.

Although Volans warned that his Crossing was not programmatic, members of the audience imputed multiple feelings onto the piece during intermission. “That Atlantic crossing was drowned out,” remarked one. “A battle between witch doctors and missionaries,” stereotyped another. As to the work’s future, we’ll see who wins after some more rehearsals, and maybe a little rewriting here and there.

In the journey on the familiar ground of Shostakovich’s Fifth Symphony, Op. 47, Michael Tilson Thomas directed a hit-or-miss account. In the first movement, he started too quickly, before the audience had settled down, and articulated the first dotted rhythm of the angular opening theme with uneven pacing. Slow passages throughout the symphony tended to drag and contain unnecessary rubato. On the other hand, MTT handled the climax of the first movement well — especially the trombones’ statement of the prominent three-note motive and the end of the development section. Too many conductors take this passage too fast.

The ensuing Scherzo was handled acceptably. The long slow movement was drawn out even longer and slower through overemphasis on retards. Fortunately, the climax of the movement had real strength, a difficult effect to achieve since it’s done solely by strings, and the sweet major chord ending the bleak and angst-ridden movement was accomplished with heavenly tenderness.

MTT hedged his bets for the symphony’s conclusion, recognized by most today as a pseudo-peroration. According to Shostakovich’s dubious but widely quoted memoirs, “It’s as if someone were beating you with a stick and saying, ‘Your business is rejoicing, your business is rejoicing.’” Whether Shostakovich actually uttered this now-famous phrase we will never know. Nevertheless, the awkward repetition of the finale’s grandiose chords rings true to the subversive interpretation of a middle finger in the pocket directed at Stalin. In earlier days, when Western conductors took a face-value approach, they tended to race through the repetitions as fast as possible, so as not to make them sound moronic. Since the collapse of the Soviet Union, more conductors lean toward the beat-them-with-a-stick approach, taking the end deliberately and ponderously. MTT’s moderately paced solution tried to satisfy both camps.

With this symphony, and much else of Shostakovich, you should move in the subversive boat or stay on the traditional shore. With one foot on each, you fall in the drink. And that’s the wrong move.

(Jeff Dunn is a freelance critic with a B.A. in music and a Ph.D. in geologic education. A composer of piano and vocal music, he is a member of NACUSA and president of Composers Inc.)

©2006 Jeff Dunn, all rights reserved