TRIESTE. The conductors invited by the Verdi for the first two concerts of the autumn season have something in common: young and talented, with careers on the rise, they have earned their stripes on the stage.
Alexander Vedernikov's return is due to the praise he received here for conducting the "War Requiem" (October 2000) and the subsequent "The Phantom Ship." Perhaps proving more in tune with Britten than with the fiery Wagnerian atmosphere, and perhaps for this reason, by opting exclusively for Russian repertoire, he intended to keep his feet firmly on the ground, in his homeland this time.
He proposed Rachmaninoff, Stravinsky, and Shostakovich, the latter to indulge one of our most admired soloists, cellist Mario Brunello. At the last minute, it was learned that the Concerto at the center of the evening would be the second, in G major, opus 126.
It is less well-known than the first, which is imbued with the grit and frenzy of its common dedicatee, Rostropovich. Trained to set aside Paganini's fury and spirit in favor of music, Brunello also made the Second, if not an absolute masterpiece, a fundamental work in the cello repertoire.
His interpretation is intense, constantly striving to illuminate the elements he wishes to communicate in comprehensible light, with an astonishing ability to draw on a variety of colors, in a whirlwind of expressive situations. Of considerable proportions, the Concerto offers a wealth of them, from the painful incipit of the Largo to the intersecting Allegretti that follow, while from the cadence of the first, punctuated by the bass drum, a very romantic trill emerges, like a consoling hope.
The score has a distinctly symphonic feel, making no concessions to the listener, who is enchanted by the soloist's beautiful, clean sound, consistently characterized by cantabile and theatrical phrasing. Applauded, Brunello responded to requests for an encore with pieces by Bach and Sollima.
After carefully accommodating the soloist, Vedernikov reserved for himself the Stravinsky-esque "Pétrouchka," the suite adapted from the ballet in 1947. An effective gesture, somewhat carefully planned and with some inconsistencies, against a very orderly orchestra, the conductor seemed to want to bring the story of the marionette back to its coloristic and descriptive roots, with that hint of complacency typical of the Russian soul.
The rhythmic design was not exactly inexorable and dry, but the softness and warmth of the symphonic poem «The Rock», a poignant piece written by Rachmaninoff when he was only twenty, were much appreciated.
Source.
Alexander Vedernikov's return is due to the praise he received here for conducting the "War Requiem" (October 2000) and the subsequent "The Phantom Ship." Perhaps proving more in tune with Britten than with the fiery Wagnerian atmosphere, and perhaps for this reason, by opting exclusively for Russian repertoire, he intended to keep his feet firmly on the ground, in his homeland this time.
He proposed Rachmaninoff, Stravinsky, and Shostakovich, the latter to indulge one of our most admired soloists, cellist Mario Brunello. At the last minute, it was learned that the Concerto at the center of the evening would be the second, in G major, opus 126.
It is less well-known than the first, which is imbued with the grit and frenzy of its common dedicatee, Rostropovich. Trained to set aside Paganini's fury and spirit in favor of music, Brunello also made the Second, if not an absolute masterpiece, a fundamental work in the cello repertoire.
His interpretation is intense, constantly striving to illuminate the elements he wishes to communicate in comprehensible light, with an astonishing ability to draw on a variety of colors, in a whirlwind of expressive situations. Of considerable proportions, the Concerto offers a wealth of them, from the painful incipit of the Largo to the intersecting Allegretti that follow, while from the cadence of the first, punctuated by the bass drum, a very romantic trill emerges, like a consoling hope.
The score has a distinctly symphonic feel, making no concessions to the listener, who is enchanted by the soloist's beautiful, clean sound, consistently characterized by cantabile and theatrical phrasing. Applauded, Brunello responded to requests for an encore with pieces by Bach and Sollima.
After carefully accommodating the soloist, Vedernikov reserved for himself the Stravinsky-esque "Pétrouchka," the suite adapted from the ballet in 1947. An effective gesture, somewhat carefully planned and with some inconsistencies, against a very orderly orchestra, the conductor seemed to want to bring the story of the marionette back to its coloristic and descriptive roots, with that hint of complacency typical of the Russian soul.
The rhythmic design was not exactly inexorable and dry, but the softness and warmth of the symphonic poem «The Rock», a poignant piece written by Rachmaninoff when he was only twenty, were much appreciated.
Source.
Alexander Vedernikov at the Verdi Autumn Symphony Season.
Young and impetuous wands
Young and impetuous wands
Claudio GHERBITZ, Il Piccolo di Trieste del 2004-09-26
