From Tchaikovsky to Tilson Thomas: A History of Classical Music at the BSO

On March 15, the Boston Symphony Orchestra began their concert as any other: The oboe tuned the orchestra with a concert A, then guest conductor Teddy Abrams and soloist Ray Chen came to the stage to the wild applause of the audience.

It wasn’t until the concerto began that the real magic started to unfold. The orchestra commenced with Tchaikovsky’s notoriously difficult Violin Concerto, which — until it was tackled by virtuoso Adolf Brodsky in 1881 — was considered unplayable. Written between March and April of 1878, Tchaikovsky’s concerto provided the composer with a distraction from his disastrous marriage which had taken place in 1877.

Beginning in the orchestra with a distinctly classical feel, the concerto escalates with the introduction of the soloist into a very romantic style. While the first movement’s famous moderato assai induces feelings of relaxation in the listener, it quickly devolves into a complex mass of sixteenth notes that emphasize Tchaikovsky’s frustration. Chen represented this excellently, both musically and physically with his ever-changing facial expressions. While at times these shows of emotion appeared almost comical, his show of feeling lent extra character to the piece. This display permitted the viewer not only to understand his own interpretation of the concerto better, but also Tchaikovsky’s inner turmoil through his music.

In contrast, the second movement was quite mellow, and Chen expressed this well, nearly sending the listener into a dreamy doze throughout. While putting his listeners to sleep was perhaps not Chen’s goal, the riotous third movement instantly drew back attention with its highly acrobatic beginning. Of particular interest were some connections between Tchaikovsky’s third movement and his other music, particularly the “Russian Dance” in his Nutcracker Suite. The acrobatic notes and rhythms in the violin recalled leaping and kicking of the ballet dancers and the orchestra’s swells and diminutions seemed reminiscent of the excitement in the dance.

The meno mosso later in the piece provided excellent contrast to the circus-like quality of the beginning, perfectly emphasized by Chen. This part took on more of the characteristics of Johannes Brahms’s “Hungarian Dances” completed in 1879, just a year after Tchaikovsky’s Violin Concerto. Chen’s slower vibrato in this section matched the tone of the meno mosso well, giving it a heavier, more serious quality.

Chen and Abrams’ excitement was infectious and the occasional foot tapping of the latter made the presentation even more enjoyable to watch. The orchestra itself, moreover, was fabulous. They blended with Chen perfectly and left him just the right amount of room to be heard while still maintaining their own sound. Abrams’s loose conducting style was also appreciated. While some other conductors feel that they must control every movement of their players, Abrams allowed the orchestra a wonderful amount of autonomy and gave them their own moment to shine.

After much deserved intense and long lasting applause, Chen returned to the stage with an encore written by him in collaboration with his friend Eunike Tanzil. While the serenade itself was beautiful, it did not feel entirely original. It seemed to closely resemble other waltzes and slow pieces of its type, and at the beginning, one could also almost hear the melody from “From Russia With Love,” a James Bond film, coming through in the first phrases. The solo violin part, while charming, seemed almost forced and overcomplicated given the context. Chen and the orchestra, however, executed it well.

Chen’s departure from the stage was followed by an intermission after which the audience seemed noticeably thinner. But the orchestra continued performing Abrams’ mentor Michael Tilson Thomas’ “Whitman Songs” with solo baritone Dashon Burton. While Burton had a beautiful, melodic voice, the untraditional mismatch between the music Burton was singing and the orchestra made the piece itself seem more like Walt Whitman’s poems set to “Sweeney Todd” than anything else. The screen above the orchestra also helped significantly at times when Burton’s words were either masked by the orchestra or unclear because of the tune he sang. Admittedly, Matthew Mendez, who wrote the program notes for this piece, observed that the last poem “We Two Boys Together Clinging” was in part a tribute to both Leonard Bernstein and Aaron Copland. These homages, however, came across as too overt. The mellow and summery tune played by the orchestra was somewhat reminiscent of Copland’s “Appalachian Spring.” In homage to Bernstein, moreover, when the soloist sang with only little accompaniment at the end, it was reminiscent of Tony singing about Maria.

Finally, the orchestra succeeded in meeting the demanding expectations of its composer with a fantastic performance of Leonard Bernstein’s “Symphonic Dances” from his musical “West Side Story.” Parts of the piece, especially in the “Prologue,” showcased more mellow, untraditional rhythms. But the orchestra showed their ability to execute the organized chaos of “Mambo” equally well. The winds, brass, and percussion in this suite were fantastic with notably strong flutes, trumpets, and a very skilled xylophone.

On the whole, it was a fantastic concert, especially for those who desire to get more into classical music. While Tchaikovsky provided an upbeat but traditional example of the genre, “Whitman Songs” and “Symphonic Dances” permitted the audience to engage with more non-traditional and modern takes on classical music.