Handel and Haydn Are Always in Style

Boston's Symphony Hall has a reputation of being one of the best performance venues in terms of its acoustics. Its interior is filled with white statues and chandeliers, making it classic and elegant, although the seats might feel a little like those in a Harvard lecture hall (no, not in the Science Center--no one would go see any respectable performances in a hall with purple carpet and green chairs); its beauty makes it the perfect place to polish one's social graces. If one goes, one must be cautious. To fall asleep would just be embarrassing. To clap in between movements (hint: that's the wrong time) would be downright humiliating. This is what the program is for, so the audience can keep track and applaud at the appropriate times, just in case they don't have the piece memorized.

When it is time to clap, there is the delicate dance between the conductor or soloist and the audience. The trick is for the performer to leave the stage before the crowd loses its enthusiasm and stops clapping. That way it seems like the audience is asking the performer to please come back out and bow at least one more time while everyone is still inclined to put their hands together. This requires good timing and an excellent ear to judge the volume of the applause, two things every musician should have. How embarrassing it would be to come back on stage just as the applause is almost dead.

The perfect opportunity to practice one's concert etiquette in Symphony Hall came last Friday at the Handel & Haydn Society's concert "Mendelssohn: The Great Romantic." The Handel & Haydn Society prides itself on being the oldest continuously performing arts organization in the country. They practice something called "historically informed performance," which means they use instruments designed in and techniques from the period the music was composed in. For the average audience member, all this means is that the flutes and clarinets are brown, the trumpets are longer, and the piano soloist has the chance to play show-and-tell with a gorgeous (and historically accurate) piano.

The beautiful brown fortepiano came with four well-dressed movers who brought the instrument onto center stage as the soloist, British pianist David Owen Norris, explained that the fortepiano was built in Mendelssohn's lifetime (1823) and was thus better suited to the composer's little tricks and idiosyncrasies.

Norris had his own little idiosyncrasies, too. As the soloist in the "virtuoso" Piano Concerto No. 1 in G Minor and the Capriccio Brillant, Op. 22, which together made up half of the program, Norris was the main event. He had obviously established a rapport with the music and was excited about performance. There were flourishes in his music and motions. At the end of a phrase he would sweep his arms up as if to gesture to the orchestra and say, "Now it's your turn." The piano concerto is one of those pieces that is supposed to put all the listeners in awe of the pianist. It is fun to hear, and maybe even more fun to watch it performed. Perhaps Norris was a little too virtuosic in the concerto: while the notes were technically accurate, it was hard to make sense of the quick and dense passages, hard to appreciate Mendelssohn's skill and talent. All those music teachers were right: faster is not always better.

Mendelssohn is widely regarded as one of the great romantic composers of the 19th century. He began composing when he was a boy and became one of the brightest musical talents of the first half of the century. Enormously popular in Victorian times (he was Queen Victoria's favorite composer), today his only universally recognized piece is the "Wedding March" from his "A Midsummer Night's Dream." Most people do not know it was Mendelssohn who wrote it, which is quite a shame. Mendelssohn and his music were often described as precocious and charming. His work is lyrical, stylish and elegant, beautiful in any century.

The obscure piece that opened last Friday's concert was all those things. The all-Mendelssohn performance began with the overture to a comic opera, The Uncle From Boston. The overture is rarely heard, and this performance marked its Boston debut. The libretto of The Uncle From Boston has been lost, but it is always refreshing to discover and hear a composer's lesser known works, much like finding more sonnets by Shakespeare or short stories by Hemingway. The beginning of the Capriccio Brillant, Op. 22, was more lovely than brilliant. Short and sweet, it was one of Mendelssohn's three single movement pieces for piano and orchestra.

But the highlight of the concert was the "Symphony No. 3 in A Minor, Op. 56," known as the Scottish Symphony. Considered one of the composer's great pictorial works, more than 10 years passed between the initial inspiration, brought about by a visit to Scotland, and the completion of the final score. Mendelssohn dedicated the symphony to Queen Victoria. There are few distinctly Scottish melodies or overtones in the symphony and no bagpipe harmonies or haunting folk tunes. The lack of stereotypical Scottish themes makes room for Mendelssohn's own creative energy. The final movement's majestic theme, not heard in any of the previous sections, will make an audience sit up and listen more closely. The Handel & Haydn Society performed the symphony admirably. The work was fluid and captivating, moving from melancholy to poetic to lively without any stops. There were no breaks between the movements, a departure from the traditional format most composers, including Mendelssohn himself, used. Mendelssohn's fundamental charm combined with a skillful performance made for a wonderful evening at Symphony Hall.

The Handel & Haydn Society next big event will be the traditional holiday performances of Handel's "Messiah." From Dec. 4 through the 12, Symphony Hall will be a joyous place, something to consider on those dreary weekend afternoons. Who better to play Handel's most famous work than the Handel & Haydn Society? It might be awkward to be dressed up on the T, but Boston's classical culture is there to be taken advantage of. Perfect that tricky concert etiquette while getting into the classical Christmas spirit. Just remember, classical music will always be in style.