Tanglewood: August 2, 2015 — Yo-Yo Ma didn’t step onto the Shed stage this afternoon to be recognized as the best-known cellist in the world. He stepped onto the Shed stage to be unrecognized. That’s because Mr. Ma’s intention, no matter the piece he’s performing, is always to faithfully represent the innermost thoughts and emotions of the composer, which today happens to be Richard Strauss.
The notoriously difficult cello part in Strauss’s “Don Quixote” sounds as if it could have been written expressly for Mr. Ma, who relishes not only the most challenging material but also the most expressive of human pathos. And with the cello in “Don Quixote” representing the story’s tragic title character, there’s much for the solo cellist to express. As usual, Yo-Yo lost himself in the music and exceeded audience expectations.
Today’s opening act was Joseph Haydn’s Symphony No. 90. Perhaps some of us think of Haydn’s music as the ideal accompaniment to a post-luncheon nap for a lazy August afternoon on the Tanglewood lawn. No doubt a few listeners did enjoy a little snooze today, but if you thought an “easy Haydn piece” would give the BSO an opportunity to warm up in a leisurely fashion, you’d quickly discover your error. For one thing, Symphony No. 90 is anything but easy, especially if one intends to perform it with all the eager enthusiasm a conductor like Andris Nelsons inspires in musicians. Every phrase, every note was precisely on the money, and Haydn’s famous false ending was just as amusing today as it was the last time we fell for it.
In between Haydn and Strauss was Brett Dean’s prickly “Dramatis personae,” Music for Trumpet and Orchestra. Dean’s piece was no doubt difficult for many listeners, but there is a genuine human story behind it, as the movement titles attest: “Fall of a Superhero,” “Soliloquy,” “The Accidental Revolutionary.” And for a first-time listener, knowing even a little about that story can make a world of difference.
According to Dean, the solo trumpet in this piece is “the protagonist of a story,” the embodiment of good, a hero moving through a hostile world of relentless opposition. And that’s exactly how it sounds. The orchestra plays the role of antagonist most convincingly, with all manner of shrieks, groans, and menacing sound effects.
Especially noteworthy of a piece like “Dramatis personae” are the options available to a composer when writing solo parts for an instrument as loud as the trumpet. Orchestral textures that would overpower, say, a cello, contribute to balanced contrast with a trumpet, an instrument capable of cutting through the densest mix of sonorities. And for Dean, the result is an immensely broad range of expressive possibilities that a softer solo instrument cannot accommodate. The composer has taken full advantage of this expansive palette in a piece that is, in turns, ominous, sweet, mysterious, adventurous, frightening, tragic, triumphant.
And about the soloist: The word “virtuoso” hardly does justice to trumpeter Håkan Hardenberger. Dean’s trumpet parts are practically impossible to play. Even as the notes come tumbling out of Hardenberger’s instrument, one can’t avoid the feeling that strange alchemy is at work. Better not try this at home.
