Sunday night, San José's Le Petit Trianon welcomed the San José Chamber Orchestra in a concert refreshingly titled "Ah, Youth!" The program consisted of music both composed and played by youthful talent, and it traveled a bumpy road from the 14-year-old Felix Mendelssohn to the unrelenting dissonances of the 29-year-old Harlan Otter. Soloists were Graham Nelson, a competent cellist at only 14, and David Do, an equally capable violinist aged 16, both of whom are mature and seriously involved in their performances.
The final work of the evening combined the SJCO forces with that of the San José Senior Youth Chamber Orchestra, filling the stage to perform the most interesting composition of the night. The conductor was Anthony Quartuccio, associate conductor of the SJCO, as well as the regular conductor of the Senior Youth Chamber Orchestra.
The concert began with an exceptionally well-performed four-movement string Sinfonia Number 9 in C Major, by Felix Mendelssohn. Between the ages of 12 and 14, Mendelssohn wrote a dozen such string symphonies, which were performed at home with a private orchestra paid for by his banker father. What luxury for a budding genius! But the lad must have been a spoiled student, used to having his own way — not in his talent (which was prodigious), but in having no one prepared to tell him that, from a compositional point of view, he talked too much.
While the Sinfonia's first three movements are charming, clever, and exceptionally mature, by the time the last movement finally comes about, Felix's failure to control himself is in high gear, and the work goes on far too long. It is said that Mendelssohn at 14 showed more talent than Mozart at the same age, but it is impossible to accuse Mozart of ever talking too much in a composition; his internal clock told him when to stop.
Next up was the
Fantasia of Kerry Lewis, a premiere work written for violinist Do and cellist Nelson, and an aggressively rhythmic composition deliberately created as a contrast with the Mendelssohn Sinfonia. The significance of the work's awesome internal detail (for example, "The first entrance of the soloists is characterized ... by two accented 16th notes ... followed by an 8th note a whole step lower") is not likely to be comprehended by more than a few in any audience. I'm not sure of the purpose of such compositional minutiae as a means of musical communication.
In Capable Youthful Hands
The young Do and Nelson carried themselves extremely professionally, though Do needs to relax and demonstrate that he enjoys playing. He showed only one expression, namely deadly serious. Nelson, while displaying equal concentration, appeared much more relaxed. This was not stage fright from either young man, but rather a lack of realization that, no matter how serious the music, a performer should still smell the roses.
Harlan Otter, trained at UC Santa Cruz and now at San José State, provided the program's third work, a premiere titled
Jeremiad: Music for Strings. It was a composition that I found impossible to plumb. It was angry, full of angst and excessive dissonances, and angular in presentation of the motifs. I could fathom no meaning in it.
The penultimate work on the program was James Harvetus'
Locus III: Babyland–Adagio for String Orchestra. A Stanford University undergraduate in both music composition and political science, Harvetus is now pursuing a master's degree in organizations and business. He plays the saxophone and studies "improvisational conducting" (whatever that is — maybe I was absent the day that style of conducting was taught). The basic emotion of the work centered on the death of young persons who have passed before their time.
Crackling Good Fun
The program's final work, jazz violinist Jeremy Cohen's
Ellis Island Suite, involved the combined resources of two string orchestras, one made up of the standard performers, the other of the senior student string orchestra. The forces filled the stage and the work was the highlight of the evening, a terrific, nonstop, nostalgic, jazzy piece that crackled with klezmer, the blues, and Broadway light jazz. It was marvelously and enjoyably played by everyone on stage, most of them with smiles on their faces. Although he was not asked to take a bow, I believe that composer Cohen was in the back of the group as a contributing member. I'd like to hear him play, not having heard a good jazz violinist since Stéphane Grappelli died.
As for conductor Quartuccio — a talented man who tries hard to cue everyone, has a good sense of rhythm, and handles complex meters well — he is going to have to rid himself of two bad conducting habits. The size of his beat, which never changes, no matter what tempo or dynamic is called for, is
HUGE: big enough for Mahler's Seventh or a performance of
Aida, with elephants, in the Baths of Caracalla. Perhaps in his work with the San José Opera (when he stepped in at the last moment to take over the production of
Romeo and Juliet from an ill George Cleve) a large beat is necessary to control things from the pit, but I sense that he has become unaware of how unnecessary and even counterproductive his large beat has grown to be. A 20-piece string orchestra needs light stroking.
And, to make matters worse, he beats with both arms. If this artistic young man intends to have a serious conducting career, he must accommodate the size of his beat to both the orchestra size and the performance circumstances. Also, he needs to put his left hand in his trouser pocket.