The evening began with a somber deep rumble from the basses and cellos. In the patiently probing movement that grew organically from those opening bars of Dmitri Shostakovich’s Violin Concerto No. 1, the San Francisco Symphony and soloist Sayaka Shoji set off on a remarkable journey.
The map for their performance was both unorthodox and wide. The piece, dramatically cast in the key of A minor, traverses four movements, starting with that contemplative opening Nocturne — a curious but captivating way to begin. Next, there’s a ferocious flash-and-burn Scherzo, a Passacaglia capped by a mighty cadenza, and finally, a manic Burlesque that the violinist tumbles into without pause.
Shoji, in her debut with the orchestra at Davies Symphony Hall on Friday, Oct. 4, took the full measure of the work, with Music Director Esa-Pekka Salonen and the ensemble meeting her in every respect.
As the soloist made her way into the Nocturne’s brooding, gradually expanding themes, she did so as if drawn by a mordant undertow. Softly pulsing string chords, urging woodwinds that peaked on a plea from the piccolo, and a spare but lovely summons from paired harps provided confiding support. Shoji responded with choice double stops.
Then, in a sudden release of pressure, she tore into the Scherzo with an arsenal of attacks that ranged from caustically brittle to violent, pitiless strokes so deep into the violin’s strings it seemed as if her instrument itself might be at risk. The bassoon and horns sounded the alarm. So did the percussionists in a clattering volley.
With his signature flair for the theatrical, Shostakovich ups the ante in the concerto’s linked third and fourth movements. As Salonen and the Symphony laid the groundwork for the Passacaglia’s variations, Shoji offered a nostalgic glance, both melodically and temperamentally, back toward the Nocturne. Soon enough, she was deep into the cadenza’s brilliantly cascading passagework, set off by a few measures of uncanny simplicity, and sprinting toward the merrily volcanic Burlesque. Near the end of the finale, in one last move in sync with Salonen, the soloist and ensemble briefly stalled the beat before a headlong rush home. Slight of stature, Shoji made a lofty, powerful impact.
The audience erupted, summoning her back for multiple curtain calls. She thanked fans in turn with a skittering encore by Niccolò Paganini, a variation and coda on a theme by Giovanni Paisiello.
The second half of the program was devoted to Brahms’ magisterial Symphony No. 4 in E Minor. Salonen approached the piece as “capital B” Brahms, his interpretation emphasizing broadly stated themes, a notably brisk third movement, and surges of orchestral color. In eschewing a more overtly lyrical and warmhearted reading, the conductor molded the symphony’s contours with bracing clarity while opening up the textures in a fresh, lucid way.
Salonen set the terms early on with purposefully striding, cleanly articulated string figures that animated the opening Allegro. As the horns and woodwinds joined the cause, the performance took on narrative momentum, pressing forward through the movement’s unfolding development. One distinguishing characteristic emerged that marked the entire performance: Even when the orchestra was playing loudly, inner voices and spatial effects came through.
Brahms’ genius as an orchestrator was apparent in a flowing but never cloying account of the Andante. Phrases took on shifting tints as they filtered through the woodwind section and on to the brasses. The violins lofted a sweet descant over the singing cello line, one of numerous graceful and charming touches in this performance.
The Scherzo barreled out of the gate on high alert and maintained a taut through line. The horns turned excitingly unruly. A triangle jangled insistently. In a way, this movement epitomized Salonen’s interpretation of Brahms’ Fourth — full of driving urgency, crisply rendered details, and an overall sense of compression and cohesion.
To the grandly scaled final movement, structured as a passacaglia and marked “energico e passionato,” Salonen brought a kind of dark triumphalism as the variations whirled through the orchestra. The players rose to the occasion. The trumpets and trombones gleamed in choral accord, the woodwinds sparkled, and the strings shone with their own clear light. Timpanist Edward Stephan landed his thunderbolts.
With so much agreement onstage, thoughts of the Symphony’s recent offstage turmoil were set to rest, if for the evening. Salonen’s warm smile said it all during the ovation: He knew his orchestra had delivered in full.
This story was first published in Datebook in partnership with the San Francisco Chronicle.
