Three Notes, And Worlds of Them

Would you rather focus on atoms, or planets? Music Director Michael Tilson Thomas chose both and overindulged a bit in one for Saturday’s San Francisco Symphony concert. It began with music of the Zen-inspired Italian Giacinto Scelsi (1905-1988), whose Hymnos took 13 minutes to elaborate just three elemental notes — D, E, and B-flat. After intermission came the note-o-rama described by its composer as “chaos in which new worlds are forever being engendered,” the Symphony No. 5 of Gustav Mahler. Scelsi excited a few listeners, and Mahler many, thanks to superb orchestral playing and (for the most part) inspired interpretation by MTT.

In one of his more interesting onstage introductions, MTT described his meeting the wealthy and eccentric Scelsi in the late 1970s in Rome. Someone took their picture, but photophobic Scelsi (no photo of Scelsi exists after 1950) grabbed the camera, smashed it, and paid for the damage. MTT then attended a soiree where “a group of scribes” recorded Scelsi’s improvisations. As MTT explained, Scelsi was on a spiritual quest, exploring “notes between the piano keys” (quarter tones) in order to convey “a general message of deep mystery.”

Mystery was indeed the effect of his music, in which overtones and undertones of its three notes, supported by an organ at the center of the stage, swelled, ebbed, and varied according to the combinations of instruments employed. The many tone-colors and slight variations in tunings proved to be as multifaceted as any conventional work would have done with an entire keyboard of available pitches. To add spatial effects, Scelsi split the orchestra into two suborchestras, on either side of the organ.

The result was an elemental force, an impression felt by several patrons I interviewed afterward. “It put me in a space,” said one, “with a sound of nature, like great whales.” “Let’s do a bumper sticker,” invited another, “with ‘Thank God for Scelsi’ on it!” The dissonance of the quarter tones offended many, however. Some objected to how “modern” the 46-year-old piece was, while others reported how much better MTT’s introduction was than the piece itself.

As for the Mahler, Tilson Thomas’ superior approach to interpretation was much as I reported five years ago (here) for SFCV. The first two movements were masterfully integrated, in part by making the slow portions of the second movement sound more like the funeral dirge of the first. And the entire thing began with a thrilling rendition of the opening fanfare by Principal Trumpet Mark Inouye.

The main and most problematic change since my previous hearing of the work, however, was MTT’s lingering over important moments. At times the drawing out would add to the emotive effect of the passages in question. At other times it seemed that the conductor was, to the musicians, unexpectedly stretching things even beyond what he had demonstrated in rehearsals, causing some orchestra members to play their notes prematurely. This milking of Mahler was fine for his best material, but when the less-inspired variants of the main themes were so treated, in the Scherzo and Finale particularly, I began to wish that the composer had left more on the cutting-room floor, and that MTT would rein in his rubatos.

Few in the audience seemed to have any of my reservations, for it responded as one with a thunderous demonstration at the conclusion, not to mention scattered cheers at the end of the second and third movements. Planets, it seems, were preferred to protons.