At Tanglewood: Pilgrims’ Progress

Boston Symphony Orchestra
James Levine, conductor; Steven Ansell, viola
Koussevitzky Music Shed, Tanglewood
July 24, 2009

Boston Symphony Orchestra music director James Levine (who has been in and out of Massachusetts this year like a celebrity chef checking on his kitchen) is back for one more weekend at Tanglewood: two BSO concerts, an opera with Tanglewood music center students, and Tuesday’s all-day “Tanglewood on Parade” funfair. Last summer, Levine’s programming (much of which he had to miss, due to surgery) was not exactly standard summer fare—a repeat of last spring’s concert performances of Berlioz’s “Les Troyens,” the all-Elliott-Carter Festival of Contemporary Music—but this year, Levine has only lightly tweaked the usual picnic-on-the-lawn material. Here was the program for Friday night’s concert:

Berlioz: Roman Carnival Overture
Berlioz: Harold in Italy
Mussorgsky: Prelude to “Khovanshchina”
Mussorgsky/Ravel: Pictures at an Exhibition

Nothing much out of the ordinary there. But it was a concert that, in multiple ways, demonstrated just how Levine has put his stamp on the orchestra after five seasons at the helm.

1. Concerts are longer. Most conductors probably would have been happy with “Harold” and “Pictures”: that’s more than an hour of music right there. Some conductors would have also thrown on the “Roman Carnival”—it’s loud, it’s fun, it’s a more energetic curtain-raiser than the brooding low strings of “Harold.” Only Levine, though, would also feel the need to add the dewy “Khovanshchina” Prelude. Again and again, Levine opts for the musical equivalent of three-hour Hollywood epics: his Schoenberg/Beethoven combinations from a few seasons back were multi-course feasts, and lately, he’s been attracted to single-composer marathons: Carter last summer, Mozart symphonies last winter, Beethoven symphonies next year. Not just a director’s quirk, it’s also a statement on the musical health of the symphony, and the fruits of concessions on rehearsal schedule. Granted, most of this program was reruns from recent seasons, but even playing a course you know requires a certain stamina.

2. They’re louder. In general, anyway. Ratio of Levine asking for less sound to Levine asking for more sound: about 1 to 10. He really likes his orchestras to play out. Big perorations at Symphony Hall concerts have become geologic events, outbursts of deep, round, seemingly endless crescendo; conquering the barn-like acoustic of Tanglewood’s Shed, the “Great Gate at Kiev” from “Pictures” finished off with seriously weighty, physically percussive explosions. But even in more gentle passages, there’s always a solidity to the sound. It means that the musical interpretation tends towards the athletic and confident, rather than the distant and mysterious. Which is not to say that they can’t play softly—the lush mists of the slow second movement of “Harold” were easily drowned out by a Berkshire downpour.

(The rain has been a featured player at Tanglewood this summer to a noteworthy extent. BSO principal violist Steven Ansell was the Byronic soloist for “Harold in Italy,” and based on his elegant, operatic line in the other movements, I’m guessing his observation of the second’s praying pilgrims was equally lovely, but honestly, I wouldn’t know. Ansell seemed more amused than annoyed at the prospect of trying to project a solo viola into a howling gale—in between movements, Levine and Ansell conferred like a couple of umpires deciding whether to call the game, but eventually, they forged ahead, and the rain retreated to a slightly more civilized level of roar. But this has been a frustrating refrain: at one point during the wait, Levine gazed skyward and, hilariously, seemed on the verge of flipping off the meteorological gods.)

3. There’s more rhythmic outline. This, to my ear, is the biggest change in sound: every layer always seems to be in much greater rhythmic focus. It’s related to the louder thing—it’s easier to be crisp when you’re not trying to sneak up on the sound. Smudged entrances are few and far in between; accompanimental patterns are clean and crystalline. The ensemble between the plucked strings and Frank Epstein’s whispered cymbals behind the “Ballet of Chicks in Their Shells” from “Pictures” had the effortless precision of a knife juggler; the ruthlessly quirky offbeat accents in the “Roman Carnival” Overture were mosh-pit tight. There’s a trade-off, particularly in Impressionistic, evocative moments; what, in Seiji Ozawa’s time, would have been a blurry wash of sound is now more like an x-ray of the texture. But it also means that when individual players or sections are putting extra polish on their phrases, it’s always audible—especially important in Berlioz, whose phrases can just sound lumpy and meandering if you can’t perceive their idiosyncratic shape.

4. There’s more historical connection. Look at that program again—it might seem like there’s no overarching programmatic theme, but the theme is, in fact, the BSO itself, the Berlioz connecting to the eras of Charles Munch and Ozawa, the Mussorgsky going all the way back to Serge Koussevitzky, who commissioned Ravel’s orchestration and conducted the American premiere with the BSO. The orchestra has been repeatedly turning to repertoire and composers that they have historically championed and cherished. (For the opening weekend this summer, Levine threw on another BSO touchstone, Stravinsky’s “Rite of Spring.”)

This concert added a bit of poignancy to that connection, featuring prominent contributions from both Epstein, a long-time BSO veteran, and harpist Ann Hobson Pilot (stationed near the front for her duets with Ansell in “Harold”), who is are retiring. Given the number of vacant positions on the roster—horn, trombone, percussion, two trumpets, &c.—the BSO is about to get a lot newer and a lot more James Levine’s. There’s an awful lot of transition among major orchestras right now—next season, Alan Gilbert takes over New York and Gustavo Dudamel takes over Los Angeles, and Philadelphia and Chicago are* still searching for new directors. With those changes comes cascading changes in focus, personnel, style. The big American orchestra is about to be punctuated out of its equilibrium. It’ll be interesting to see if other orchestras endeavor towards Boston’s balance of future and past. It’ll be interesting to see if Levine can maintain it.

*Correction: No, they’re not. And I even wrote about it. Kids: too much TV ruins your brain!