San Francisco Classical Voice

A Russian American summit marked the opening of the Women's Philharmonic's 19th season on Saturday. The Russian delegates were Nina Kotova, a young cellist of surpassing grace, and, in an avuncular role, Tchaikovsky. Margaret Brouwer, the sole American, spoke universal truths in a clear compositional voice. Once again the Women's Philharmonic, under Apo Hsu, proved itself a first-class ensemble.

Playing to a full audience, Kotova, a highly publicized prodigy out of the Moscow Conservatory, performed the world premiere of her own Cello Concerto — an array of Russian musical styles whose aspirations to depth and eloquence foundered in verbosity. From the start the solo cello part was silvery and facile, the orchestral accompaniment heavy on strings and otherwise bland. Kotova's own stated intention — to "evoke both the reality of Russian life and allegorical references to Eastern and Russian thematic material" — was never quite realized, because too much material went by too fast. (Imagine sitting on a train, racing through a cluttered landscape, with only fleeting glimpses of interesting scenery and no destination in mind.)

The ominous darkness and low cello lament of the middle movement were more convincing. Here too the cello played nonstop, but its line was charmingly inflected by harpsichord and pizzicato cellos in the orchestra. In the last movement, Kotova finally abandoned self-conscious attempts at literary narrative and reveled in festive dance rhythms, buoyed up in brisk, if underrehearsed, partnership with the orchestra. While as a composer Kotova needs editing and focus, as a cellist she is undeniably gifted. Her pitch and tone are exemplary, her intimate ease with her 1696 Guarneri cello that of a real comer.

Channeled through Tchaikovsky's more coherent Rococo Variations, Kotova's same ingenuous fervor was immediately rewarding, though her impetuous, "catch-me-if-you-can" rubato led Apo Hsu and her forces on an uneasy chase. Even here, Kotova needs to guard against glibness. There was not much variety in stimme between variations, for all the love in her playing. Tchaikovsky's alternations of jaunty and sentimental sections gathered the charge of this love like a lightning rod. His vivid instrumentation allowed the orchestra to break through the sonic scrim that had seemed to hover between audience and stage during Kotova's composition.

Kotova responded to warm applause with a deeply affecting rendering of a simple Russian folk song, eliciting murmurs of appreciation from the audience. (There was a lesson for her here.)

Margaret Brouwer's style is direct, unpretentious, but very American. Her more seasoned approach as a composer shows the wisdom of simple means fully deployed. Her Sizzle, a commission for the Women's Philharmonic's Fanfare Project, began the program. Though sounding like a finale of a piece rather than a full work, it nevertheless set a bold, extroverted tone. Starting with grunting belches reminiscent of The Sorcerer's Apprentice, the piece splayed overthumping pedal points into a bright, colorful array of gestures with a rhythmic immediacy and sheen right out of West Side Story.

Suddenly Apo Hsu swiveled toward the audience. Oh God, were we supposed to sing? No. Instead, music from brass instruments in the balcony rained down us. Gabrieli never had it better. Fired by cascading glissandi on glockenspiel and vibes, and with trombones blaring on stage, the piece burned like Valhalla in a series of climaxes and cadences.

Brouwer's Symphony No. 1 ("Lake Voices") ended the program. The symphony begins with a supple, sweet oboe solo, then deepens under a wash of accumulating modes, establishing both flow and clarity. References to the Dutch American communities situated along the shores of Lake Michigan slip in with bits of hymn, with church bells lending a certain austerity. The piece proceeds as an unbroken whole but has drifts of mood as mercurial and inexorable as any force of nature. Brouwer's use of brass and percussion is impressive and imaginative.

Beginning and ending the concert with Brouwer's work was inspired programming. The calm strength and musical beauty of her compositions, lending stability, maturity, and confident modernity to the event, served to contain both the unbridled temperament of Kotova's less stable piece and Kotova's regal, old-world performance style. More importantly, Brouwer's pieces left us the vivid memory of this orchestra at its eloquent best.

(Elinor Armer is a composer. She teaches at the San Francisco Conservatory of Music. )

©2000 Elinor Armer, all rights reserved