Boston Classical Review

Andris Nelsons led the Boston Symphony Orchestra in Sibelius’s Symphony No. 7 Friday afternoon. Photo: Winslow Townson

Sometimes, despite its imposing grandeur and marvelous acoustic, Symphony Hall can feel like an extension of one’s living room. On Friday, it radiated homey vibes.

Part of this owed to the Boston Symphony Orchestra’s matinee program of Nordic favorites by Jean Sibelius and Edvard Grieg. Also, the concert’s unusual lineup of conductors, which featured a pair of former Tanglewood Music Center Fellows—Ross Jamie Collins and Na’Zir McFadden—splitting podium duties with BSO music director Andris Nelsons.

Then there were the ways in which the ensemble responded to each of its leaders.

Ross Jamie Collins led the BSO in Sibelius’s Finlandia. Photo: Winslow Townson

Collins certainly looked the part of a maestro, leading Sibelius’s Finlandia with energy and big, sometimes theatrical gestures. Yet the BSO seemed to treat him like the wacky uncle at the Thanksgiving table, tolerating his antics but otherwise ignoring their substance.

The pairing’s lack of rapport was evident across the afternoon’s reading of the tone poem. Its introduction was lugubrious and blunt, the fast main body breathless and insistent. True, the famous hymn sang—but that was framed by errant woodwind entrances and a blazingly unbalanced peroration.

McFadden, on the other hand, fared better with Grieg’s Holberg Suite. His was an interpretation that was consistently songful, dancing, and attuned to the music’s expressive nuances.

Na’Zir McFadden conducted the BSO in Grieg’s Holberg Suite. Photo: Winslow Townson

For exuberance and extroversion, the Praeludium and Rigaudon snapped—concertmaster Nathan Cole’s solos in the latter were spot-on—while the Musette’s hemiolas were shapely and urgent. Meantime, the Sarabande and Air unfolded as models of restraint.

Throughout, conductor and string orchestra paid close heed to the suite’s dynamic range. As a result, the Air, particularly, came across with real poignancy, its central maggiore episode shining like a ray of light between the affectingly dissonant turns of its outer thirds.

A comparable play of chiaroscuro defined Nelsons’ account of Sibelius’s Symphony No. 7.

Friday’s rendition of this single-movement effort—one-hundred years old last March—was on the swift side, clocking in right around twenty minutes. Accordingly, the opening Adagio lacked spaciousness and a corresponding degree of mystery and grandeur. Similarly, woodwind and string ensemble work in fast sections tended to be spotty.

Nevertheless, the conductor’s overarching conception of the Seventh was shapely, well-balanced, and dancing. Nelsons kept the BSO’s brasses under control, and fulfilled Mahler’s injunction that “the art of conducting consists in transitions,” directing those sections with fitting smoothness. The symphony’s big arrival points, which are among the canon’s most resplendent, all glowed with warmth.

Similar strengths shined through the afternoon’s account of Grieg’s Piano Concerto in A minor. Completed in 1869, this favorite has seen a considerable drop-off in popularity over the last half-century or so. Still, when played with the mix of sensitivity and panache it received on Friday, there’s no question of the music’s appeal or worth.

Filling in for an indisposed Sergio Tiempo, pianist Benjamin Grosvenor made effulgent, sometimes hypnotic, work of the concerto’s spades of notes. His tone was golden with articulations impeccably voiced. The last also brimmed with character.

Benjamin Grosvenor performed Grieg’s Piano Concerto on Friday with Nelsons and the BSO. Photo: Winslow Townson

No texture, from the first movement’s displays of sparkling filigree to the finale’s swaggering refrains, was less than thoughtfully phrased. The former’s cadenza actualized, in microcosm, the sweep of Grosvenor’s larger reading, from absorbingly intimate to explosive and stormy.

Nelsons and the BSO delivered an accompaniment of real style and spirit, marked by tight rhythms, exceptional balances, and a firm conception of the concerto’s rhetorical spirit. The Adagio, with its pure tone and exquisite pianissimos, emerged with conspicuous beauty.

Afterwards, Grosvenor rewarded the house with an encore of Liszt’s “Dance of the Gnomes” from his Two Concert Études S.145. A display of pianism of the first order, the British keyboardist’s light-footed mignardise called to mind a seasonally apt quip from Oscar Wilde. “After a good dinner, one can forgive anyone,” the Irish wit proclaimed. “Even one’s own relations.”

The program will be repeated 8 p.m. Saturday at Symphony Hall. bso.org

Posted in Performances
No Comments