The interaction of passion and absence at Monday's Laurel Ensemble concert made for a memorable and at times frustrating evening at Temple Emanu-El's Martin Meyer Sanctuary.
Where passion was projected by the performers, or where absence was the bittersweet substance of the music, the experience approached the sublime. Where passion was the crux of the music, but its absence was the result of performers focusing too much on technique, disappointment mars the memory of an outstanding concert.
Three works were performed: the premiere of Peter Josheff's Instrumental Suite from Inferno, Simon Sargon's Shema, and Brahms' Piano Quartet, Op. 25.
Inferno is an opera, the first part of which is to be premiered in June, which is based on Dante's depiction of the plight of Francesca da Rimini in the second circle of hell. She and her lover Paolo Malatesta were driven by their unthinking passions into an adulterous relationship, murdered for it, and condemned to be blown about "like a school of starlings" with other lovers like Helen of Troy. However, the focus of the opera is not on the wind but on the delusions of passion. Hence, rather than the whirlwind so strikingly portrayed by Tchaikovsky in his symphonic poem Francesca da Rimini, Josheff delivers up a romantic but indeterminate atmosphere in the manner of Debussy's Palleas and Melisande. The lover is so besotted with her own imaginings, the real object of affection, like Paolo in the Dante poem, is barely there — a longing with no real object.
The complete ensemble of flute, violin, viola, clarinet, cello, and piano performed the suite to perfection. Especially noteworthy was a beautiful moto theme, contoured in the manner of Wagner's "redemption" leitmotif in Götterdämmerung. The irony of this music is not lost on those aware that in Dante's hell redemption is out of the question. Four excerpts were played without pause, the opera's prelude, music accompanying Minos' monologue (the character is called Hell's Wind in the opera), an interlude, and Franceso's "awash in youth" explanation for her sin and plea for pity. That the music hit home was evidenced by a loud cry of one audience member at the conclusion, who told me afterwards that it forcefully reminded him of pastoral scenes he had experienced. (The audience had no idea the opera was about da Rimini — see below. I attended a rehearsal of the opera.)
Barak delivers
If only Barak's heartfelt commitment could have been matched by all the members of the quartet who played the Brahms after intermission. The Op. 25, bursting with youthful passion, is one of the most famous and often played of Brahms' chamber works; therefore, care needs to be taken to make a performance rise above the run of a very large mill. Instead, a technically excellent performance paid only lip service to the command "espressivo" that heads three of the four movements in the score. In music as romantically charged as this quartet, "expressively" should require extremes of dynamics and moderate to liberal use of rubato (deviations from strict tempo). Instead, the only real expression I received were those on the faces of violinist Christina Mok and violist Jenny Douglass. These showed the audience that they seemed to really care about the music and the emotions it conveyed — signs not visible in the grim demeanors of cellist Krisanthy Desby and pianist Lori Lack.
Should musicians take acting lessons? I say, why not? Why should we go to a live performance if not to emote with real people? Otherwise, we should just listen to recordings.
No stars among notes
All tempos were taken a bit on the fast side, a fatal mistake in the case of the glorious third movement, which should begin with a slower pace — not only to prepare for the spectacular franticisms of the fourth movement, but to showcase the brilliantly brisk march that serves as its centerpiece. And it was in this third movement where the absence of enough expression hurt the most. I refer particularly to the example of the agonizing A-natural in bar 12, which was treated as an extra in a cast of thousands instead of the star sob in this section of Brahms' outpouring.
A final disappointment came with the pronounced absence of rubato — a staple of gypsy style — in the last movement, plus insufficient emphasis on important bass piano notes. To be fair, there were no errors in this difficult music, and I was especially impressed with the smoothness with which Lack handled her transitions between notes while retaining utmost clarity. In any case, the audience gave the quartet a spirited ovation: The technical plusses and the greatness of the music itself deserved it.
Returning to absences, however, I am obliged to report that glaring omissions prevented the eight-page concert program from meeting minimum standards. Only the last names of composers were listed. Producer Mike Tekulsky provided no dates for the works or any biographical or other information about them other than titles. Levi's name wasn't mentioned at all, although the program included a complete list of the names of ushers and box office volunteers. Fortunately, the texts of Levi's poems were included as an insert, without attribution. Should there be a new terrace in Purgatory erected for this oversight, as well as a special circle in the Inferno for those who bring live cell phones to concerts?