|
NJSO stirs the melting pot There are few things as American as making money unabashedly, and once he arrived here, even a grand auteur such as Igor Stravinsky managed to go native. Järvi led the call for an encore from Bronfman, who obliged by barnstorming through Rachmaninoff’s G Minor Prelude, Op. 23. The conductor egged the pianist on to stay, only to launch the orchestra into the playful Gavotte from Prokofiev’s “Classical” Symphony. Bronfman picked up the joke with relish, feigning annoyance and a nap at the keyboard, to the crowd’s delight. He rose to mop the concertmaster’s brow before finally getting his cue, punctuating the last notes as if shutting a music box. European music with an American accent One didn’t need a voltage meter at last night’s New Jersey Symphony Orchestra concert to judge how the musical electricity jumped when the group got its hands on a fresh, inspiring piece of music. New Jersey Symphony Orchestra music director Neeme Järvi on CD Musical families both obscure and famous are surveyed in two discs, one led by New Jersey Symphony Orchestra music director Neeme Järvi, the other by one of the world’s top harpsichordists. “Kapp: Artur, Eugen, Villem” BBC Philharmonic, Neeme Järvi, cond. (Chandos) THREE STARS In the 1980s and ’90s, Järvi made hundreds of recordings for England’s Chandos Records, including two key discs of music from Estonia. Järvi revisited the sounds of his native country for the label in 2001 and 2005 with the Manchester-based BBC Philharmonic, covering three generations of the Kapps, once the first family of Estonian classical music. The survey starts with the dramatic overture “Don Carlos” of 1899 by Artur Kapp (1878-1952). Although full of Tchaikovsky’s influence, Kapp’s piece has its own Romantic pull, as the score veers from theatrical vigor to lyrical repose. Until the Soviets pushed him out, Kapp ran the Tallinn Conservatory, where he trained his son Eugen (1908-96), who would steer the country’s composers’ union in the post-Stalinist era. Järvi features a suite from one of Eugen’s most famous pieces, the ballet “Kalevipoeg” of 1947, drawn from the country’s national epic (similar to the Finnish “Kalevala” familiar to fans of Sibelius). The music, with hints of Prokofiev and Stravinsky, brims with melodic and rhythmic charm; it’s right up Järvi’s alley, and he leads an entertaining performance. The disc’s liner notes point out that Järvi’s late brother, Vallo, made the first recording of the suite in 1962 for Estonian Radio. Villem Kapp (1913-64), Artur’s nephew, wrote his Symphony No. 2 in the mid-’50s. While hardly original or deep, the half-hour symphony is never less than attractive. The outer movements are the most compelling, channeling Prokofiev for their chain of melodies. The sound is a bit studio-bound, but Järvi and BBC orchestra make a game team. NJSO’s “Coming to America” fest ends on slight down noteJanuary 27, 2008 A festival is supposed to be festive, and the New Jersey Symphony Orchestra’s three-week “Coming to America” fest started well. The first two programs offered both fun (music director Neeme Järvi clowning with pianist Yefim Bronfman) and excitement (the NJSO’s first performances of Martinů’s glorious Second Symphony). But the festival – featuring works by European composers who either made famous visits or emigrated to the New World, like Järvi and many NJSO musicians – ended on a less-than-thrilling note. The orchestra performed with its usual classy professionalism; but with Järvi off working in Europe and a cut-price soloist on the bill, the finale was not the high-voltage event it should have been. This raised the question of what will happen when the NJSO loses Järvi after next season. He will surely return to conduct for a few weeks in the coming years, but the organization faces a challenge in finding a music director so able to balance depth and delight. It would be a shame if the NJSO’s momentum – artistically and organizationally – were to drain away, as the audiences will go with it. This weekend’s concerts in Newark and Trenton featured the return of London-born conductor Gilbert Varga (son of Hungarian violinist Tibor Varga). Music director of Spain’s Basque National Orchestra for the past 10 years, the conductor has been raising his profile as a guest with American orchestras. Praised for his articulate baton technique, Varga is a stylish, even suave podium artist. Varga is also an experienced conductor of Béla Bartók’s music, leading the NJSO in the composer’s Concerto for Orchestra without a score. The piece is 20th-century modernism at its most engaging – and inspiring, as Bartók wrote the work in 1943 during a remission in the leukemia that would kill him two years later. The music shows the composer reaching out with a style that was less biting than in his early years, yet still suffused with idealism and ingenuity. The NJSO’s take on the Concerto for Orchestra Friday at the New Jersey Performing Arts Center boasted ensemble clarity, as well as beautiful playing from the principal winds. But an ideal performance demands more dynamism than Varga and the group seemed able to provide, with the violins often sounding timid. The second movement – which suggests a puppet loose on its tether – came across evocatively, though, and the NJSO conveyed the final rush of sensations with verve as well as control. The NJSO has performed Tchaikovsky’s Piano Concerto No. 1 more than any other concerto in its 85-year history. That’s reason enough not to include it in a festival, even if the work suits the “Coming to America” theme (the composer having conducted it when he opened Carnegie Hall in 1891). Moreover, the festival already featured a Tchaikovsky piece in its second week. A program of, say, Bartók’s Third Piano Concerto (or his Viola Concerto) and a suite from one of Erich Wolfgang Korngold’s Hollywood film scores would’ve been more interesting. But it’s easy to Monday morning quarterback, and orchestras face keen marketing pressures. A war-horse is easily recognized in a subscriber brochure, with a healthy crowd at NJPAC bearing this out. Yet the Tchaikovsky – its hackneyed opening used to sell bargain classical compilations on late-night TV for decades – needs star-power to come off with anything approaching freshness. From Shanghai, soloist Haochen Zhang – a slight, bespectacled 17-year-old who looks far younger – is a prize-winning student at Philadelphia’s Curtis Institute. He managed Tchaikovsky’s piled-high octaves and glittering trills with an expertise that was impressive on its face. But digital technique without risk-taking charisma meant that the notes were easy to forget as soon as they left the air. Austusavaldus imposantsele muusikutegevusele „Neeme Järvi. Kunstniku elu. The Maestro’s Touch” Seda raamatut kätte võttes tekkis tunne, nagu talunaisel suurt katekismust puutudes — kas käed on ikka puhtad ja põll plekita, kas hing on valmis kaane avamiseks ja sisusse süvenemiseks. Esimene mulje raamatuga kohtudes oli hästi pidulik. SE&JS ongi ju tuntud eksklusiivse ja hästi kvaliteetse „toodangu” poolest. Raamat on ehk isegi pisut liiga „väike” sõna, koostajad on selle tituleerinud albumiks. Eks ta olegi album — ilus pidulik pildiraamat vahetekstidega. Kirjastuselt SE&JS on see juba kolmas Neeme Järvist rääkiv teos. Eelmised on praeguseks ammu lettidelt kodudesse rännanud: „Maestro. Raamat Neeme Järvist” (1997) ja „Encore! Neeme Järvi” (SE&JS/DSO, 2001). Nüüd siis uus raamat „Neeme Järvi. Kunstniku elu. The Maestro’s Touch”, mille ilmumine maestro 70. sünnipäeva tähistamiseks ajastatud. Toreda üllatusena leidsin soliidsete tumesiniste tekstiilkaante sisekülgedelt kaks „helikonservi”: DVD Mahleri Teise sümfooniaga (nn. Ülestõusmissümfoonia), live-salvestus New Yorgi Riverside’i kirikus toimunud kontserdilt viie orkestri ja kahe koori esituses, ja CD Bruckneri Seitsmenda sümfoonia Haagi Filharmoonikute esituses. Mõlemat ettekannet juhatab loomulikult Neeme Järvi. Raamat jaguneb kolmeks meeleolukaks peatükiks: „Teekond Nõmmelt maailma”, „Aeg & elu” ning „Kaks unustamatut päeva Göteborgis”. Nende vahel on leidnud koha Neeme Järvi orkestrite loetelu, maestro juhatatud maailmaesiettekanded ja salvestatud heliplaadid (1983—2007). Albumi tekstiosa täiendab rikkalik, tundlikult ja professionaalselt valitud pildimaterjal. Kasutatud on paljude fotograafide töid läbi aastakümnete ja lisaks toredasti valitud, ajastut peegeldavaid arhiivimaterjale. Nii sõnad kui ka pildid on leidnud endale täpselt õige koha teiste sõnade ja piltide hulgas. Mina-tekstid on ladusalt põimitud koostajate kommentaaridega, pikkides vahele seisukohavõtte teistelt arvajatelt üle maailma. Teos on kirjutatud paralleelselt eesti ja inglise keeles. See on mõistetav, sest Neeme Järvi kunsti hindajate seas on eesti keelt mittekõnelevat rahvast kindlasti tunduvalt rohkem, kui on meie pisku 1,3 miljonit. Hästi mõjub, et ingliskeelsed tõlked (tõlkijad Katre Koit, Krista Parve, Hedi Rosma ja Vilma Jürisalu) on meeldivalt professionaalsed. Konteksti vajavad laused on välislugejale selguse mõttes peenetundeliselt lahti kirjutatud. Raamatu esimeses pooles jookseb tõlketekst toredasti rööbiti originaaliga. Mõlema keele oskajail on vahva tõlget originaaliga võrrelda. Teose lõpuosas („Kaks unustamatut päeva…”) see süsteem enam miskipärast ei tööta. Ei saanudki aru, kas see on teadlikult nii tehtud, aga osa teksti on vaid eesti, osa inglise keeles. Minu arvates kannatab selle all pisut nii teksti üldine jälgitavus kui ka arusaadavus. Läbisegi eesti- ja ingliskeelset teksti lugeda on ka pisut häiriv, eriti kui mõelda, et kõik lugejad ei valda mõlemat keelt. Eesti keelt mittemõistev lugeja saab ju ometi visuaalselt aru, et mitte kogu jutt pole talle arusaadavasse keelde ümber pandud. Kuidas ja millest lähtuvalt see valik tehti, ei oska ma arvata. Tundub, et taas kord on tegijail kiireks läinud. Raamatul on lisaks emotsionaalsele küljele suur faktoloogiline väärtus. Kirja on saanud kogu Neeme Järvi 2007. aasta kevadeks tehtud töö: dirigeeritud orkestrid, maailmaesiettekannete nimistu, salvestatud heliplaatide täielik nimekiri. Kogumiku keel on hästi jälgitav ja ladus. Neeme Järvi meenutusi läbib sageli mõnus huumor. Mulle meeldis väga 1971. aastal Roomas Santa Cecilia Akadeemias toimunud rahvusvahelise dirigentide konkursi võidu kirjeldus: „Juhatasin Raveli süiti „Daphnis ja Chloé”, seda ma oskasin ilusasti juhatada” (lk. 46). Või siis lugu sellest, kuidas Järvi endale Ameerikast auto ostis (lk. 60): „Elasin siis veel Eesti NSV-s, kui käisin 1979. aastal New Yorgis, Metropolitan Opera’s „Jevgeni Oneginit” juhatamas, ma olevat ju suur Vene muusika spetsialist (…). Tulin Met’i, juhatasin etendused ära ja sain selle raha eest osta endale Ameerika auto Mercury Cougar. Niisugune pika ninaga mudel oli. Igavene laev. Tõin siis auto Eestisse — kõik vaatasid seda nagu imeasja! Pärt istus ka ükskord sisse, juba sõitsime tükk aega, tema ütleb: „Kuule, pane nüüd mootor ka käima!” Üldse ei olnud kuulda, et mootor käib!” Raamatu esimest osa „Teekond Nõmmelt maailma” on hea ladus lugeda. Maestro enda meenutuste vahele lapsepõlvest, kodust, perest, õpingutest on pikitud koostajate ja kaasteeliste kommentaare. Hämmastab Järvi ema Elsu sihikindlus ja töö suunamaks oma poegi muusika radadele. Kust küll tuleb see andekuse taju, et lihtne juuksur oma lastele muusikahariduse annab? Minu tütar teatas mulle üsna varakult: „Emme, sa ise pole ju pilli õppinud, sa ei tea, kui raske see on. Miks sa siis mind sunnid?” Järvi isast on vähem juttu, maestro isegi kirjutab, et ema sõna ja soov olid peres ikka „sääduseks“ ja täitmiseks. Ilus on see koht, kus Järvi meenutab, et ema ei sundinud teda kunagi liiga palju ega vägisi harjutama ja tunneb kaasa Mozartile, keda isa peksuga pillimängule sundis. Üldse kirjeldab Järvi läbi raamatu oma lapsepõlvekodu ja ka oma peret suure sisemise soojusega. Minu jaoks oli huvitav fakt, et Neeme Järvi üks esiemadest olnud hispaania verd ja et sealt võib olla pärit ka maestro temperament (lk. 20): „Ma üldse naudin kiirust, sest see on minu elu tempo, ma ei saa muudmoodi olla. Algusest peale käib mul just nagu mootor sees, ma ei tahagi teisiti elada.” Esimene õpetaja oli Järvile peaaegu kolmteist aastat vanem vend Vallo. Pärast kodus vennalt saadud „introduktsiooni” muusikaharidusse jätkus noore muusiku tee loogilises järjestuses Tallinna Muusikakeskkoolis löökpillide erialal (1946—1955). Tore on dirigendi meenutus sellest, kuidas ta esimest korda dirigendipulti sai, st kuidas ta selle võimaluse vennalt (Vallo Järvi oli sellal Estonia teatri alaline dirigent) „välja rääkis”. Neeme Järvi: „Estonia orkestris olin löökpillidel kaasa mänginud Johann Straussi operetis „Öö Veneetsias”. Ja kui see avamäng ühel kontserdil jälle kavas oli, palusin Vallot — lase mul juhatada! Tema leppis orkestriga kokku ja see õnnis hetk tuli, kui juhatasingi orkestriaugus Straussi avamängu — esimest korda elus! Olin siis 17-aastane” (lk. 20). Just selleks ajaks, kui Neeme Järvi TMKK lõpetas, suleti Tallinna Konservatooriumis orkestridirigeerimise eriala ja nii „ei jäänudki tal muud üle” kui lähimasse linna ehk siis Leningradi (Peterburi) ametit õppima minna. Läbi tõeliselt tiheda kadalipu, jättes selja taha kõik teised kandidaadid, sai ta ainsana toonasest seltskonnast õiguse asuda õppima orkestri- ja ooperidirigeerimise erialal. Kindlasti oli see tulevasele maestrole suurim võimalik vedamine. Leningradi aastad olid Järvi arengus määrava tähtsusega. Teisest kursusest alates oli tema õpetaja „kõrgelt haritud ja lääne klassikalise orientatsiooniga maestro, prof. Nikolai Rabinovitš” (lk. 26). Peale suurepäraste õppejõudude avanes võimalus kuulata maailma tipporkestreid parimate dirigentide juhatusel, jälgida ja analüüsida nende tööstiili. Meenutustest kumab läbi 1950. aastatel Leningradi konservatooriumis valitsenud vaimuerksus ja õppimis- ning avastamisrõõm. Pärast konservatooriumi lõpetamist asus Järvi tööle Eesti Raadio sümfooniaorkestri koosseisulise dirigendina, jätkates samal ajal õpinguid Leningradi konservatooriumi aspirantuuris. Tema aspirantuuri lõpetamise tunnistusel on kolme kuulsa muusiku allkiri: J. Mravinski, N. Rabinovitš ja M. Rostropovitš. Leningradis kohtus Neeme Järvi ka oma tulevase abikaasa Liiliaga, kellega neil on kolm vahvat last, kes tänaseks kõik rahvusvahelisel muusikaareenil ilma teevad: Paavo ja Kristjan Järvi dirigentidena ning Maarika Järvi flötistina. Neeme Järvi avaldab lootust, et ka mõnigi lapselaps pöördub oma õpingutes just dirigeerimise juurde. Järvide pere tundub olevat väga kokkuhoidev, vaatamata sellele, et pereliikmed elavad üle maailma laiali. Raamatu teine osa „Aeg & elu” käsitleb perioodi pärast Nõukogude Liidust lahkumist aastal 1980 kuni 2007. aasta kevadeni. Ehk siis Neeme Järvi teekonda maailma kontserdisaalide lavadele. Olles Nõukogude Liiduski väga tunnustatud ja aktsepteeritud, avanes maestrol võimalus ka sügaval stagnatsiooniajal välisriikides töötada ja seal tunnustust leida. „Mul oli vanasti viie aasta märkmik, kust sain lugeda, mis ma olin teinud, kus käinud ja mida juhatanud. Ja päris tore on neid märkmikke praegu sirvida. See on mu oma käega kirjutatud ajalugu.” (Intervjuust Urmas Otile. Encore! Neeme Järvi. SE&JS/DSO, Tallinn, 2001.) Tubin or not Tubin? Tere hommikust, goddag et hyvää päivää à toutes et à tous, La recension de Simon ressemblant très fortement à ce que Christiane et moi avons entendu le soir suivant à Pleyel, je vais simplement compléter par des impressions personnelles. J’attendais beaucoup de ce concert. Non seulement parce que je ne vais jamais au concert, évidemment mais aussi et surtout pour la symphonie de Tubin. N’ayant pas lu les notes du programme, je ne puis toujours pas affirmer avec certitude que la soirée de mercredi avait vu la première exécution publique à Paris d’une symphonie de Tubin; en revanche, c’était bel et bien la première que j’entendais en direct et, qui plus est, la première fois que je voyais diriger Neeme Järvi. Oui, je sais, c’est extravagant : j’ai dû écouter des dizaines de disques sous sa baguette, en acquérir une bonne partie et il compte depuis maintenant vingt ans parmi mes chefs de prédilection. A vrai dire, c’était ma deuxième tentative ; lors de la première, une inoubliable “Mission de Jonas” de Tobias aux Champs-Elysées (et pas uniquement à cause de ma voisine), son état de santé avait conduit son compatriote Arvo Volmer à le remplacer au pied levé, permettant de redécouvrir cet oratorio assez exaltant sous une perspective toute différente et tout aussi convaincante que celle de N. Järvi (CD Bis). Quoi qu’il en soit, Neeme Järvi plus Tubin, c’était plus qu’il n’en fallait pour venir à bout non seulement de ma réticence mais surtout de celle de mon agenda. Ajoutez à cela que Repin est, à mes oreilles, peut-être le plus élégant (au sens fort et noble) des violonistes actuels et que le concerto de Sibelius est probablement celui qui me donne le plus de plaisir à jouer. Le risque, lorsque l’on a de telles attentes, est évidemment d’être déçu. Commençons donc par les “réserves”. Le jeu de Repin, comme l’a relevé Simon, n’a plus constamment la perfection instrumentale “royale” que l’on se plaisait encore récemment à souligner, avec raison. Et comme le suggère Simon, cela n’a pratiquement aucune importance. Il n’a rien perdu de sa virtuosité, comme le prouve (s’il en était besoin) son panel de variations sur le Carnaval de Venise, avec pizzicati amusés et complices des cordes de l’orchestre de Paris, que Christiane qualifie justement de repiniennes. Simplement, comme dans un autre registre Frank Peter Zimmermann, Repin commence à considérer que la liberté, de la ligne, du moment, de l’expression méritent le sacrifice très occasionnel de la pureté immaculée de la réalisation technique. Par ailleurs, comme la plupart des solistes russes, il joue très aigu dans l’aigu, plus que je ne le ferais (à tort ?) mais cela non plus n’a pas d’importance puisqu’il le fait de manière cohérente. Autre réserve, tout aussi secondaire, j’ai trouvé la Cinquième de Tubin un peu moins accessible en direct que sur disque, ce qui peut sembler paradoxal. Je ne parle pas vraiment pour moi, ayant bien souvent écouté ces symphonies. Simplement, je pensais que son élan et sa construction dramatique emporteraient plus aisément l’enthousiasme du public, même si les spectateurs, dans leur majorité, n’avaient sans doute jamais entendu parler de ce compositeur avant d’acheter leur billet. L’exécution a été saluée par un beau succès public mais j’ai le sentiment que cela était au moins autant dû à la fluidité et la justesse fabuleuse de la direction de N. Järvi et à l’engagement des musiciens qu’à l’oeuvre elle-même ; je crains même que nous n’ayons pas de sitôt une autre symphonie de Tubin à Paris, ce que je déplorerais amèrement. Dernière remarque en demi-teintes, quelques tutti m’ont semblé un peu confus, notamment dans Aladdin de C. Nielsen mais aussi au début de la symphonie. Cela ne tenait ni à l’orchestre, moins encore à l’écriture et je pense donc que cela vient de la salle (vous l’avez deviné, c’était aussi la première fois que je revenais à Pleyel depuis sa réouverture). Entendons-nous, l’acoustique reste globalement très claire et précise, ce halo n’est rien à côté de celui du Rudolfinum de Prague et de sa superbe mais déconcertante salle Dvorak. Venons-en à l’essentiel. Le programme était magnifique. D’accord, l’éventail de musiques que j’apprécie ou que j’aime est très large mais il y a des gradations. Là, non seulement chacune des partitions proposées valait son pesant de baies arctiques mais l’ensemble était d’une grande tenue, même si Simon a connu des minutages plus généreux. L’orchestre de Paris m’a étonné par son implication et sa chaleur. Sa précision était aussi remarquable (il m’est quand même arrivé de l’entendre à d’autres occasions ;-)) mais cela me surprend moins, Neeme Järvi étant connu pour la clarté de sa direction, son instinct du geste simple et son pragmatisme inventif. Pour ne prendre qu’un exemple, la 5ème de Tubin renferme quelques îlots lyriques à faire se pâmer tout amoureux des cordes et où se manifeste le plus clairement sa filiation avec Sibelius. L’ardeur et la densité des cordes parisiennes faisaient vraiment plaisir à entendre, sachant qu’elles donnaient avant tout chair à ce son incomparable que l’on trouve dans les disques de N. Järvi. Les cuivres sont fort sollicités et s’en sont sortis avec les honneurs ; il était très intéressant de comparer leur sonorité à celle de leurs collègues suédois dans l’intégrale BIS (ou bavarois, dans le cas de la 5ème). Quant aux percussionnistes, notamment dans le passage “nielsenien” évoqué par Simon, ils ont pu se régaler et se rappeler que N. Järvi commença lui-même au fond de l’orchestre, sous la baguette, me semble-t-il, de son frère aîné Vallo. Autant ces mêmes musiciens de l’OP (ou leurs prédécesseurs immédiats) m’avaient paru hagards et incrédules après une 4ème de C. Nielsen pourtant splendidement menée par Blomstedt, autant je crois qu’ils ont été heureux de découvrir et de défendre cette oeuvre de Tubin. On le serait à moins ; jouer, pour la première fois depuis des décennies, un, des principaux jalons de l’un des plus beaux corpus symphoniques du XXe siècle, dirigés par celui qui en reste sans doute le plus grand interprète, il y a de quoi conserver de grands souvenirs. La suite d’Aladin, que je connaissais relativement mal, m’a séduit. Ce ne sont pas les symphonies, bien sûr mais pourquoi résister au plaisir acidulé de ce mélange entre les couleurs de choral luthérien qui habitent aussi, par exemple, la 4ème symphonie et des mélismes orientalisants, à la fois frais et un peu sophistiqués, fantaisistes, malicieux, élaborés dans leur apparente naïveté. On retrouve là la veine populaire décalée du compositeur danois, ce jeune pâtre de l’île de Fionie curieux du vaste monde mais amoureux des sentiers de terre de son pays natal. On présente souvent Repin comme l’héritier le plus légitime de David Oïstrakh. Son interprétation du concerto de Sibelius avec N. Järvi diffère néanmoins sensiblement de celle du roi David avec Rojdestvensky (qui reste ma préférée de toutes, à ce jour). Elle est moins “atmosphérique”. On y perçoit moins le vent sous l’archet, le grain, le souffle. Elle n’en est pas moins admirable, sobre, noble, tenue mais libre cependant, profondément généreuse. La dynamique du jeu de Repin est pleinement épanouie tout en évitant les effets appuyés. Neeme Järvi est un chef quasi-idéal pour cette partition dont il fait ressortir la subtilité, le relief tout en dosant superbement la puissance sonore. Oserai-je l’avouer, les tutti qui semblent si souvent conçus pour le repos des mains endolories du soliste m’ont parfois paru plus intéressants encore, plus habités que le reste, pourtant empli d’ardeur et d’intelligence. Je ne pense pas que Repin et N. Järvi aient spontanément la même vision de Sibelius mais leur rencontre est harmonieuse et respire le respect mutuel et l’affection. Pour la petite histoire, cela m’a fait quelque chose d’entendre en second bis l’allemande de la 4ème sonate d’Ysaÿe que j’avais autrefois jouée à Menuhin, lequel avait dû l’entendre par l’auteur. Avec la floraison récente d’enregistrements de ces six sonates, il n’étonne plus personne de les trouver en bis au même titre que celles de J.S. Bach et quand l’archet est aussi beau, nul ne s’en plaindra. Que dire de Tubin, à part l’absence du triangle ? La persistance rythmique de cette symphonie, évidente au disque, prend une dimension différente au concert. Elle peut à la fois guider le novice et le dérouter. L’expérience de N. Järvi est indispensable dans ce répertoire pour éviter un double écueil, celui de la répétitivité et celui de l’incohérence dans laquelle on peut aisément verser à trop vouloir éviter le premier. Du coup, l’oeuvre semble plus compacte, elle paraît aussi plus évidente : l’évidence, je me répète, d’un classique. Ce n’est pas du Mahler. Tubin n’est pas un génie gourmand et protéiforme, c’est un artisan intensément sérieux et la richesse de sa musique provient, si on peut la résumer ainsi, de sa maîtrise et de la force de son invention. Elle n’est pas spectaculaire, enivrante. Cette musique “est” et ce n’est qu’en la réécoutant, en s’en imprégnant qu’on en vient à admirer l’intégration du fond et de la forme, la variété de l’un et de l’autre. Le reste a déjà été évoqué ici, la position-charnière de cette première symphonie composé en exil, son rôle dans la vocation de N. Järvi. Le mouvement lent, particulièrement sa seconde partie, évoque Mahler autant qu’il annonce Pettersson mais l’esprit comme la réalisation en sont tout autres. Le chef estonien est ici plus que magistra. Il est souverain, à la fois maître d’oeuvre (et comme dans toute grande musique nordique ou balte, la maîtrise des masses sonores et des fluctuations rythmiques est ici cruciale) et démiurge lorsque surgit, dans les ultimes minutes, ce que le compositeur et critique Moses Pergament qualifiait de “Sinaï” sonore, l’espérance de ceux qui ont été arrachés de leurs racines. L’Andante festivo de Sibelius, à nouveau offert en bis, était... Mais Simon a tout dit, en peu de mots. Le mot qui me vient après cette soirée magnifique est “gratitude”. Je nourris à présent l’espoir, avec peu d’illusions mais qu’importe, que nous soient maintenant données les autres symphonies de Tubin avec ce chef magique et avec des solistes aussi authentiques que Repin: au-delà du très beau Sibelius qu’il nous a fait partager, ne nous mentons pas, c’est largement grâce à lui qu’une bonne partie du public a aussi vécu sa première rencontre avec Tubin. Devant moi étaient assis des enfants. La musique de Tubin est très “adulte” mais on aime à croire qu’elle grandira en eux tout en conservant une saveur toute particulière.Neeme Järvi ja Erkki-Sven Tüür on eesti muusika lipulaevad Suviselt soojas kevades toimusid Tallinnas kaks muusikasündmust, mida jäädakse mäletama nii kaua kui kestab eesti muusika. 26. mail oli „Estonia” kontserdisaalis Neeme Järvi juubelikontsert, kus maestro kõrval dirigeerisid ka ta pojad Paavo ja Kristjan. 1. juunil oli „Estonia” teatris Erkki-Sven Tüüri ooperi Eesti esietendus (maailmaesietendus toimus 2001. aastal Saksamaal). Mõlemad ületasid oma mitmetähenduslikkuse poolest tavapärase muusikasündmuse läve. Võime rahuldustundega nentida, et nii Neeme Järvi kui Erkki-Sven Tüür on tulnud võitjaks närvesöövas kultuuripoliitilises sõjas. Neeme Järvi, emigreerudes 1980. aastal, hakkas raadios esinema orkester ilma dirigendita (!) ja sõdurid kiskusid ta fotot välja Olümpiamängudele pühendatud esinduslikust raamatust. Kuluaarides levitati tükk aega kuulujutte, et Järvi teenib välismaal endale elatist tänavamuusikuna. Kui Neeme Järvi esimest korda pärast emigreerumist Göteborgi orkestriga Tallinnas kontserdi andis, seisid saalis püsti kõik – nii tema ande austajad kui kunagised „ärakeelajad”. Maestro austajate ring on tänaseks niivõrd avardunud, et ta 70. juubelile pühendatud kontserti filmisid lausa kolm rahvusvahelist telekanalit. Erkki-Sven Tüüri ooperi esietendus sattus Pronkssõduri-sündmuste järellainetusse. Vähem kui kuu enne esietendust nõudis Moskva linnapea Juri Lužkov, et kõik suhted Eestiga tuleb katkestada. Nii ei saanud poliitilise surve tõttu Moskva teatri „Helikon” pealavastaja Dmitri Bertman oma tööd „Estonia” teatris edasi teha. Sellega oli ohus „Estonia” teatri üle aegade kõige kallim (eelarve 1,8 miljonit) ooperiproduktsioon. Ooperi lavaletoomise päästmiseks jätkasid tööd Neeme Kuningas ja Ene-Liis Semper, kes pidid hakkama saama raske ülesandega – tuua lavale teise lavastaja kontseptsioon. Kaasa aitasid ka 21. sajandi tehnilised võimalused: lavastaja Dmitri Bertman jälgis Moskvas „Estonia” teatri laval käivate proovide veebiülekannet ja andis e-kirjade ja mobiilikõnede vahendusel juhtnööre. Esietendusel oli Dmitri Bertman koos lauljate ja dirigent Arvo Volmeriga laval ovatsioone vastu võtmas. Loodetavasti jõuab see publikuvaimustus ka Moskva „ärakeelajate” kõrvadeni. Läbi raskuste esietenduseni jõudmine oli kogu „Estonia” ooperiteatri triumf poliitilise küünilisuse üle. Järvide muusikutedünastia näitas maailmaklassi Tüüri ooper „Wallenberg” sai püstijalaovatsioonid Kodulehekülje toimetajad on avaldanud Sirje Normeti artikli muutmata kujul. New Jersey Symphony announces 2008-2009 season Change is almost always a tonic in such a tradition-bound field as classical music, and the New Jersey Symphony Orchestra has shaken things up for its 2008-2009 schedule. The next NJSO season, announced today at the New Jersey Performing Arts Center in Newark, looks different in one way because the group has added another venue to its statewide circuit: the Paper Mill Playhouse in Millburn. The orchestra will also introduce new formats for some of its concerts, including earlier start times and old-school "best of" programs to entice new listeners. “Reaching out is essential to our mission as a state orchestra, as well as keeping the highest artistic standards,” says NJSO president and CEO Andre Gremillet. “We want to make coming to our concerts as attractive in as many different ways as we can, to reach a wider audience by offering wider choices.” But format changes aren’t the core of why next season should be the NJSO’s most exciting in recent memory. The lineup of guest soloists is world-class, from ace violinist Vadim Gluzman and percussion star Evelyn Glennie to a list of guest pianists that ranks with any across the Hudson – including Marc-Andre Hamelin, Lang Lang and ’98 Tchaikovsky Competition winner Denis Matsuev. (See accompanying schedule, below.) The NJSO will also lead a new, multidisciplinary arts festival at NJPAC in June 2009. Details are still in the works, although Gremillet says the three weeks of events “are about trying something bolder artistically, exploring collaborations and connections between music and other arts.” The music the orchestra will play through the regular season balances the familiar with the fresh. The box-office boon of the 2006-2007 Beethoven symphony cycle couldn’t help but beg a sequel, and next season brings all five of Beethoven’s piano concertos. Alongside a fair portion of war-horses, there will be a few new pieces (including Erkki Sven-Tüür’s “Magma” Symphony, featuring Glennie) and enticing rarities (Busoni’s Violin Concerto). The annual winter festival will see the orchestra explore the subtleties of French music from Faure to Milhaud. Next season will also be the last in the tenure of music director Neeme Järvi, so there will be a bittersweet tone to the later concerts as players and listeners alike try to enjoy his artistry as much as possible before he leaves. He conducts six sets of programs, culminating in May 2009 with Bruckner’s Symphony No. 7 – one of the conductor’s favorite pieces. The vast architecture and emotional scope of the Bruckner will be a suitable challenge to cap his inspiring run with the orchestra. The NJSO has had good fiscal news to report lately, including increases in ticket revenues and the erasing of its huge cumulative debt by the sale of its “Golden Age” instrument collection. But the fresh moves in the orchestra’s programming and venue choice are still driven by a need for financial acuity, as well as artistic freshness. Gremillet joined the NJSO in 2006, so next season is the first he has had the chance to fully shape. He led an analysis of the orchestra’s past 10 years of concerts to divine the various costs and benefits of business as usual. There were also conversations with patrons and input from marketing surveys about what changes would interest subscribers. The new series of four “best of” programs – “Best of Beethoven”, “Best of Vienna”, etc. – are potpourri events along the lines of what was popular in the 19th century (except not nearly as long). They will feature a mix of single movements from famous works, such as Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony, plus shorter pieces that wouldn’t likely make a regular subscription program, such as Beethoven’s rarely heard Romance Cantabile for flute, bassoon, piano and orchestra. The “best of” concerts are designed as introductions to classical music for younger and older listeners, along with being shorter events held at times more convenient for certain populations. The series will run as Thursday matinees at the 1,200-seat Paper Mill. The new venue enables the NJSO to tap potential subscribers in the Millburn/Short Hills area whose demographics match the orchestra’s donor base – and who might not go to a Friday night concert in Newark. The new series will also play at Englewood’s Bergen Performing Arts Center (Sundays at 3 p.m.), Red Bank’s Count Basie Theatre (Saturdays at 5:30 p.m.) and Trenton’s War Memorial (Fridays at 7:30 p.m.). Gus Gomide, NJSO vice president of marketing and external affairs, sees potential in resurgent Red Bank among young professionals who might want to incorporate an early-start, intermission-less classical concert as part of an evening out, rather than have to devote the entire evening to it. Gomide points to similar moves producing successes for orchestras in Indianapolis and Cincinnati. Those groups didn’t have to face the challenge of Trenton, where government workers leave at the end of the day. It has been difficult for the NJSO to maintain its audience there over the years, but the orchestra is going to lengths to get listeners back. For the “best of” series there, it’s even planning to cater a light pre-concert supper to draw professionals who have a window of time after they clock off but would rather not stick around the city late. Leading the programs when Järvi isn’t around will be a decent list of guest conductors, some of whom may end up as candidates for taking his place – the orchestra having started its search. Joann Falletta, the fine music director of the Buffalo Philharmonic, will conduct a mix of American and Eastern European music in early 2009. Järvi’s youngest conductor son, Kristjan, will conclude the NJSO’s festival of French music. Jun Märkl – the German who showed pizzazz in Berlioz last time he was here – will return in early October to conduct Brahms’ First Symphony. Rossen Milanov, associate conductor of the Philadelphia Orchestra and artistic director of Camden’s Symphony in C, will lead an all-Russian program the following spring. The following is the New Jersey Symphony Orchestra’s 2008-2009 season. All performances are at 8 p.m. unless indicated otherwise. A key to the venues appears below. Subscription packages range from $55-$756. Single tickets go on sale Sept. 2. Call (800) ALLEGRO (255-3476) or visit njsymphony.org. WAGNER: The Ring: An Orchestral Adventure (arranged by Henk de Vlieger); Siegfried Idyll. Royal Scottish National Orchestra/Neeme Järvi – Chandos. Richard Wagner (1813-1883) began to sketch the Ring opera story in 1848 and was finished with a fairly complete libretto by 1852. It was not until many years later that the first opera in the planned cycle of four was premiered, the sequence was as follows: Das Rheingold (The Rhinegold)/1869, Die Walküre (The Valkyrie)/1870, Siegfried/1871 and Göterdämmerung (Twilight of the Gods)/1874 – that if played one after the other would take about 15 hours. Henk de Vlieger (HDV – b. 1953) a Dutch composer, selected from those four operas a number of pre-eminent symphonic musical segments on a commission by Edo de Waart and the Radio Netherlands Philharmonic Orchestra and created the suite The Ring: an orchestral adventure. Its performance takes now approximately 60 minutes in total with 14 track markers in all. In my mind this beautiful work could be taken as a crash course on “Wagner: a musical introduction to mythology”. HDV preserved intact all the original contrapuntal texture, rabid chromatics, atonal harmonies (quickly shifting or rapid changes in tonal centers), orchestration, instrumentation and sequence of leitmotifs (leading motifs – themes) created by Wagner, including his ideal Bayreuth Festival practice of the “invisible orchestra”. The music is up front but also presents in a very effective way that which Wagner called “lontano” and/or offstage instrumental location effects. For example in the relative quiet beginning of the disc the music from Das Rheingold’s prelude is heard seemingly ascending from the bowels of Valhalla where the Gods reside (Track 1 – the long Bb note on the Wagnerian tuba) and culminates some 12 minutes later in Track 4 with the theme of the Descent of the Gods Into Valhalla. Järvi’s orchestra admirably balances this slow ascent and descent with effectively managed crescendos and diminuendos truly reflecting that invisible orchestra in a virtual invisible stage. With this music HDV masterfully recreated all the inner drama contained in these four operas including Wagner’s rich orchestral palette as well as the harmonic color that characterizes his music. The same applies to the complexities of Wagner’s chromatics, which become more and more intense in their juxtaposition of themes, tonalities, rhythm and different shades of musical dynamics as the music goes on. Järvi’s execution of the score is opulent – especially in the low and high brass – but not to the exclusion of the woodwinds and/or the subtle sounds required from the very large string choir (64 instruments); this is a well scored suite expertly performed by the Royal Scottish National Orchestra. It should be noted that HDV newly scores some minimal harmonies for those sections where the singing originally reigned, replacing the voices with woodwind effects which are coupled to the “original” music still preserving in another form the invariably poignant climaxes that Wagner himself envisioned. For example, we can hear this affective musical effect in Track 8 with the great love scenes from Siegfried and also in Track 14’s Brünhildes Opfertat – the Valkyrie riding her horse into the flames for a virtual immolation. Järvi and the RSNO are the real heroes of this recording and here I am not putting aside the extremely talented author of this arrangement. Järvi takes the orchestra through a clearly delineated road with a firm baton imparting exemplary pacing right from the depths of the beginning ascending notes to the apotheosis of the end. Virtuosic orchestral playing is continuously maintained throughout the whole suite and the Ride of the Valkyrie (Track 5) is absolutely impressive as performed with the required two pairs of Tenor Bb and Bass F Wagnerian tubas beginning at about 0:22 imparting to the music a profound as well as scary heroic tone and it’s no wonder that Francis Ford Coppola used this particular musical segment for his Apocalypse Now movie in the helicopter cavalry-like charge assault sequence. As a contrast the funeral music (Track 13) acquires under Järvi’s baton a touching tragic intensity which is in turn enhanced by the timpani’s tremolos (2 sets of timpani) and the end (Brünhildes immolation) has pure orchestral majesty. A real interesting thing is that despite Wagner’s open music/drama endings HDV’s arrangement comes to a virtual closure with the last chords of the music (about 40 seconds long) and leaves us with the feeling that there is a somewhat conclusive end to the story while in the original opera the music just fades away into oblivion…sort off. The other work in this SACD – Siegfried Idyll (Tracks 15-17) - interestingly enough is like an anticlimax to the longer work that precedes it. Nothing especial about it, but how nice to have it there just when one needs to decompress from 60 minutes of unadulterated mind-bending music and be able to take a little rest before going back to listen the music again and again from the beginning. Järvi obtains eloquent responses from the RSNO more than amply supported by the glorious 3/2 multichannel sound which incidentally was produced and engineered by none other than the Couzens brothers (Brian and Ralph). In the final analysis I strongly recommend this SACD, a must-have for music lovers and all those Wagnerites who need a real Wagner fix once in a while everyday just like I do. Incidentally I was present about 2 years ago to a live presentation of this work by an enormous orchestra and a great conductor as well; I know how this music feels Live! on a Saturday night. [Another way to decompress after this – or even to get a preview of what’s going to happen – would be to listen to Anna Russell’s half-hour analysis of the Ring...Ed.] RSNO/Järvi at the Royal Concert Hall, Glasgow Surely even the most ardent Wagnerites sometimes wish that The Ring could be trimmed a little. Like by 15 hours or so. And that all those noisy singers would just go away for a while. Well, in Glasgow last Saturday the wish came true. The Royal Scottish National Orchestra played not Wagner’s Ring, but Vlieger’s The Ring, An Orchestral Adventure. Just one hour long, and cast in a single continuous movement, it takes a large orchestra on a small - but perfectly formed - journey through the essential bits of all four operas. Think War and Peace edited for Readers’ Digest. Or the Alps captured on picture postcards. Out go Wagner’s epic structures and Olympian time-scales – plus all those half-hour monologues in which characters lugubriously fill you in on what happened in the previous opera. Some purists will be appalled. But boy, you get through those music dramas fast! Rhinegold comes and goes in ten minutes. The Valkyrie is reduced to The Ride and the Magic Fire. The whittled essentials of Siegfried and Götterdämmerung take longer, but not much. It’s a brutal hatchet job. I loved it. So who is the presumptuous Henk de Vlieger, and what gives him the right to slash Wagner? The answer is that he has no right at all: he’s not even German. A percussionist with the Netherlands Radio Philharmonic (which presumably explains why all the loud percussion bits are kept in), he was commissioned by his orchestra to do the Ring arrangement in 1992 – for a tour of Germany. Ah, that Dutch sense of humour. And he makes a reasonable job of it. Most of the notes are Wagner’s, but Vlieger pops vocal lines into the woodwind as necessary, and supplies linking music (and the odd clunking key change) to yank us from one highlight to the next. The clever thing is that if you know your leitmotifs, you can follow the whole story. And if you don’t, you’ll be relieved not to be bamboozled for 16 hours. Under Neeme Järvi’s stolid direction the RSNO’s bloated ranks didn’t always strike their own seam of Rhinegold. But credit to the orchestra for reviving this bizarre curiosity. And if your curiosity is roused, Chandos has just issued a recording with the same forces. Unlikely, perhaps, to be a big seller in Bayreuth. Wagner’s Ring recording reforges partnership between RSNO, Järvi and Chandos The Royal Scottish National Orchestra’s (RSNO) recording of Wagner’s The Ring, an Orchestral Adventure is released on Monday, 28 January 2008. Henk de Vlieger’s symphonic arrangement of music from Wagner’s Ring Cycle reunites a long-standing and much celebrated recording partnership between the Royal Scottish National Orchestra, its Conductor Laureate Neeme Järvi and Chandos Records. The Ring, an Orchestral Adventure is the first recording in fifteen years from the three parties combined, and continues the globally recognised award-winning partnership of the esteemed Estonian conductor and Scotland’s national orchestra, which has produced 67 recordings over the past 23 years. The work was arranged in 1991 by the Dutch composer and percussionist Henk de Vlieger. Wagner’s Der Ring des Nibelungen includes many long and significant stretches of orchestral music; this recording tells the story of the cycle by bringing them together in the same sequence they appear in the tetralogy. The majority of the work is pure Wagner, and includes such famous moments as: The Entry of the Gods into Valhalla, The Ride of the Valkyries, Wotan’s Farewell and Magic Fire Music, Forest Murmers, Siegfried’s Rhine Journey, Siegfried’s Funeral March and Brunnhilde’s Immolation. The CD also includes the composer’s symphonic poem Siegfried Idyll, from which Wagner adapted musical ideas for the third opera of the cycle, Siegfried. It was recorded over three days at the Glasgow Royal Concert Hall; one of the orchestra’s performing homes, in August 2007. Future recordings are planned between the RSNO, Järvi and Chandos. RSNO Conductor Laureate Neeme Järvi: The release of the recording coincides with the Scottish première of The Ring, an Orchestral Adventure, led by Neeme Järvi, in a programme that also includes Haydn’s Symphony No. 101 Clock. They will be performed at the Glasgow Royal Concert Hall on Saturday 23 February at 7.30pm and at The Edinburgh Festival Theatre on Sunday 24 February at 6.00pm. For more information log onto www.rsno.org.uk. Both the recording and the performance at the Glasgow Royal Concert Hall are supported by the Jennie S Gordon Memorial Foundation.RICHARD WAGNER The Ring: An Orchestral Adventure (arr. Vlieger); Siegfried Idyll. Royal Scottish National Orchestra, Neeme Järvi. Chandos. Chandos and Neeme Järvi return to scenes of former glory in this latest outing from the RSNO. Henk de Vlieger’s Wagner “Adventure” was recorded by Edo de Waart with positively mind-numbing dullness for RCA some years ago. Järvi knocks a good seven minutes off his predecessor’s timing, bringing the whole suite in at just an hour, and a very exciting hour it proves to be. Vlieger’s work was in fact pretty minimal – he simply stitched together the usual preludes and interludes, adding orchestral filler as necessary and moving the vocal parts to the orchestra. Das Rheingold, which has the least amount of purely orchestral music, required the most work, but after that it’s very much the usual “bleeding chunks”, with a few bandages applied. The Royal Scottish National Orchestra plays with its usual professionalism. This is not a Wagner orchestra: its sound is very bright, the strings not terribly rich, and it all comes out a bit too much like Star Wars; but then this music is a soundtrack of sorts, and Järvi’s impulsive conducting gives a welcome lift to Siegfried’s Rhine Journey and Funeral Music and to the final Immolation Scene. I also like the prominence of the woodwinds as well as the lightness of texture where Wagner is loud, but not necessarily heavy (think The Ride of the Valkyries). There’s also room for a bonus: the Siegfried Idyll, a work that usually falls on my list of 10 Most Irritating Pieces of Classical Music Ever Written. Happily, Järvi plays it like they did in the old days – that is, swiftly, getting through it in about 15 minutes and making it refreshingly charming rather than cloyingly (and annoyingly) sweet. Chandos’ sonics, as always with these forces, are suitably brilliant in all formats. A very enjoyable release. Järvi to conduct NJSO in Brahms, Liszt programs The New Jersey Symphony Orchestra has two programs coming up this week, beginning with a performance 3 p.m. today at the State Theatre in New Brunswick. For this concert, Neeme Järvi conducts the world premiere of a concerto called “3-2-1”, the first work for large orchestra by NJSO violinist Darryl Kubian. The piece calls for soloist on violin and electric violin, played by concertmaster Eric Wyrick. In the program notes, Kubian likens the concerto’s overall form to “the life cycle of the universe”, with a Big Bang beginning, a second movement that represents “the age we’re in now” with its mixture of digital and analog technology, and a regeneration of energy in the third movement. As composer of chamber music, film and TV scores, Kubian has much experience with the infinite variety possible within electronic media, but in this work he insists on maintaining the recognizability of the violin part, even when the electric fiddle and effects are used. The new work could hardly be in better company, as it will be performed alongside Brahms’ Symphony No. 3 and Haydn’s Symphony No. 98. Both composers were at the height of their powers in these pair of symphonies. Separated by a century, the styles are worlds apart, yet clearly recognizable as members of the same species. The State Theatre is at 15 Livingston Ave. in New Brunswick. Following this afternoon’s performance, the program (titled “Järvi Conducts Brahms”) will be repeated in a 1:30 p.m. matinee Tuesday at the New Jersey Performing Arts Center, 1 Center St. in Newark. Later in the week, Järvi also conducts as the NJSO performs “Liszt the Romantic”, a program featuring not only the composer’s gorgeous and stirring “Les Preludes” but also the charming “Dances of Galanta” by Hungarian composer Zoltán Kodály. Ever remembered as the virtuoso pianist and showman, Franz Liszt still is frequently overlooked when one talks about the “great” composers of the Romantic era. But his gifts as a composer, his craft and his genius, were at least the equal of his piano playing. In “Les Preludes”, the composer attempts to paint a portrait of a life of extreme emotional states – dramatic preludes to the unknowable life after death – by transforming basic thematic material. While it divides into four sections like a symphony, there are no breaks. The young Romanian pianist Mihaela Ursuleasa will perform Liszt’s Piano Concerto No. 1, a fiery, extroverted work epitomizes Liszt’s larger-than-life persona and his love of form and thematic development. Liszt is the cannonball, the meteor that disrupts normal creative activity, so startling that the meticulous detail of his genius is overlooked and forgotten and all we are left to talk about is the flash. The “Galanta” part of the title “Dances of Galanta” refers to a small Slovakian town where Kodály spent much of his childhood. The gypsy music of that region, Kodály said, was the first music to reach his ears as a young boy. For this work, written in 1933, he selected a number of gypsy tunes from Galanta that had been collected into a book published in 1800, organizing them into an alternating form, like a rondo. Kodály is in love with his material, and that love transmits to the audience. The spirit and energy of these pieces show his mastery as a composer and orchestrator, while also displaying a playful, childlike wonder that has since caught the imagination of three generations of listeners. Similarly based on Hungarian folk material is a work by a less known Hungarian composer, Leo Weiner, Divertimento No. 2, for string orchestra. Weiner died in 1960 and his music bears the imprint of both Romantic masters and the contemporary vanguard. “Liszt the Romantic” will be performed at 8 p.m. Friday and at 3 p.m. April 6 at the New Jersey Performing Arts Center, 1 Center Ave. in Newark, and at 8 p.m. Saturday at the War Memorial, West Lafayette and Barrack streets in Trenton. Call 1-800-ALLEGRO or visit www.njsymphony.org for more information. Concerto’s debut is simply electric It’s often lamented that symphony orchestra subscribers, particularly those outside the major cultural centers, are conservative by nature, preferring the comfort of the familiar to the thrill of the new. But it isn’t always the case. The New Jersey Symphony Orchestra played Haydn and Brahms symphonies with hearty aplomb under Neeme Järvi this weekend, but that wasn’t what made the most impact. It was a 21st-century creation, and a homegrown commission besides, that generated the immediate ovation on Saturday at the New Jersey Performing Arts Center in Newark. The piece was “3-2-1”, a concerto for acoustic and electric violins composed by Darryl Kubian, a member of the NJSO’s first violin section since 1992. He wrote the score especially for the orchestra and its concertmaster, Eric Wyrick. The music has had Wyrick switching back and forth from his usual violin to a souped-up, amplified instrument during the statewide premiere run, which winds up at NJPAC tomorrow afternoon. Kubian, a 42-year-old Rutgers alumnus, has a fascination with science and technology, as well as experience writing scores for television. Both pursuits color “3-2-1”, a half-hour work inspired by the energy of the “expanding universe”, as the composer pointed out in an audience-priming talk beforehand. The piece balances the sort of electronic effects taken for granted in pop music with an open-hearted lyricism redolent of mainstream film scores, as it moves from an evocation of the Big Bang to a pool of idyllic repose to a cyclic, out-the-door rush. Wyrick’s solo line spirals out of the initial squall of sound, with the tone of the electric violin having an alluring edge, like that of an electric guitar. He triggered new colors with a pedal board at his feet, shifting from that initial serrated timbre to a sound like a celestial lyre; the violinist also set echoing loops into motion so that he accompanied himself along with the orchestra. The effect was so texturally engaging that one almost wished that Kubian had written a concerto entirely for electric violin (as John Adams did so well recently with “The Dharma at Big Sur”). Wyrick clearly relished the electric violin’s keening power, though he switched between the instruments with an ease bordering on nonchalance. Moreover, the episode that called on him to play his regular, unamplified violin had a pastoral, beguiling loveliness. When the orchestra’s strings echoed Wyrick’s melodic motif, it was as if they had morphed into an electronic loop, a beautiful touch. If Kubian showed influences from jazz-fusion and electro-rock in the violin line, his writing for orchestra was resolutely traditional, even neo-Romantic; any real dissonance came from the burring overtones of the electric violin. There are hints that the composer’s rhythmic facility isn’t as developed as his melodic gift; a pounding timpani exchange early in “3-2-1” is square, and metallic riffs in one of Wyrick’s cadenzas will seem banal to anyone who really knows rock music. These were passing blemishes, though, in a piece that brims with imagination. When Wyrick’s electric violin soared above the orchestra again in full cry, the sheer lyricism was stirring, the instrument’s hot edge searing away any sentimentality into something pure and affecting. Kubian had said that he felt a “state of terror” just before the players launched into his piece for the first time, one that soon turned into a “sense of joy”. Listeners seemed to enjoy the experience from the first note, with an attentive excitement in the air that isn’t always there. Instead of letting Kubian’s score lay silent as he awaits other performers to take it up, the NJSO should encore “3-2-1” soon. The organization should also make the radio recording available for downloading from the orchestra’s website, as Carnegie Hall is doing with its series of commissioned works. Hungarian concert a standout Music director Neeme Järvi’s broadening of the New Jersey Symphony Orchestra’s repertoire has been like a holiday for listeners, a virtual grand tour of Europe beyond the typical Austro-German borders. Over the past few seasons, the NJSO has explored byways of regions that do music exceptionally well, including Scandinavia, the Baltic countries and, as of this weekend, Hungary. With the orchestra having already played a couple of scores by Hungarian great Bela Bartók lately, this program featured a piece by Bartók peer Zoltán Kodály, two works by iconic native Franz Liszt and a folk-tinged rarity by Leo Weiner. Weiner (1885-1960) was, like his contemporaries Bartók and Kodály, fascinated by regional folk music. His Divertimento No. 2 is a set of Hungarian folk tunes morphed into concert pieces akin to Brahms’ popular “Hungarian Dances”. With Järvi’s winking gestures revealing his delight in the score, the NJSO’s Friday performance at the New Jersey Performing Arts Center was beautifully vivid. The dizzying final number evoked a carriage barreling down a dark road in an old vampire movie; the strings dug in surprisingly hard, hinting at the rustic fiddling at the music’s root. For an encore, Järvi brought out the first movement of Weiner’s Divertimento No. 1, a colorful piece that made one wish he would’ve played the whole thing. He seemed as if he might have been persuaded; as much as conducting, Järvi cajoled the orchestra into sharing his theatrical vision of the music – putting a finger to his lips for a quiet passage, then hopping to the podium’s edge to emphasize a dynamic leap. The concert had begun with another folk-steeped work, Kodály’s Gypsy-channeling “Dances of Galánta”, which sings as much as it dances. Principal clarinetist Karl Herman shaped his early solo with haunting legato, and the strings played their unison melodies with ideal depth of tone. Järvi and the NJSO even managed to make the night’s other orchestral feature, Liszt’s tone poem, “Les Préludes”, seem far less wooly than usual. The night’s only rub was that the exact same program could’ve been heard before World War II. The warhorse on the bill was Liszt’s Piano Concerto No. 1, which might have been traded for something a bit fresher. The post-modernist Piano Concerto by the late Romanian-born Hungarian György Ligeti isn’t Järvi’s sort of score, but he probably would’ve loved to feature one of the practically forgotten concertos by 20th-century neo-Romantic Ernö Dohnányi, if marketing strictures weren’t what they are. Regardless, the guest piano soloist made any carping moot. Mihaela Ursuleasa, born in Romania in 1978, stripped the hackneyed patina from Liszt’s concerto with her leonine technique and huge tone, digging into the keyboard with such finger strength that it seemed as if she would leave prints in the ivory. Her bare shoulders hunched over the keys, Ursuleasa looked like she was burrowing into the piano during an intent “quasi adagio”, but she nearly bounced off her seat for the finale, phrasing the hyperactive rhythms with a sense of play. Ursuleasa, who toured Europe with Järvi and his longtime Swedish orchestra, seemed as entertained as the crowd by the conductor. In the audience after she played, the pianist laughed and clapped along with everyone else as he shimmied through the Weiner pieces. Worth catching solo, Ursuleasa returns to the area May 10 to play a recital of Brahms, Rachmaninoff and a new Aaron Jay Kernis piece at Manhattan’s Washington Irving High School (near Union Square). Oslos avatakse uus ooperimaja Täna avatakse Oslos suure galaetendusega uus ooperimaja, mida peetakse üheks suurejoonelisemaks maailmas. Chef-conductor Neeme Järvi and the Residentie Orchestra are delighted that their contract has been extended up to 2011. Niels Veenhuijzen is delighted that he can bring the news: “Järvi’s international reputation and wide experience have been with the the orchestra for previous years. We are gladly offering him to continue with the orchestra. He is appreciated in the artistic world not by us only. He is of such an international level that attracts big names.” NJSO leader builds concert’s momentum into music-box finale
Conductor Neeme Järvi leads the New Jersey Symphony Orchestra as they perform their last concert of the season at the State Theatre in New Brunswick. Neeme Järvi knows how to stage-manage a performance, and not just with his winking encores. A listener can be fooled sometimes into thinking the conductor is easing into a dramatic piece, just not pushing hard enough. But the veteran is often pacing his interpretations, building intensity so the audience is left wowed at the finish. That was the case Thursday at New Brunswick’s State Theatre, where Järvi and the New Jersey Symphony Orchestra included Shostakovich’s Fifth Symphony on the last program of their penultimate season together. The work’s dark, grinding string opening can have a turbulent force, with a conductor such as Leonard Bernstein making that sound feel as if it were wrenched from the viscera of the earth. Under Järvi, it was more beauty than beast, seeming subtler but safer. Yet as Järvi shrewdly terraced the dynamics of Shostakovich’s masterpiece, one soon realized how he was leaving room for the orchestra to build organically. The cumulative power of the performance was undeniable. Expressing oneself in Stalinist Russia was like walking a tightrope over a shark tank, even for a young star like Shostakovich. He had been taken publicly to task for a hit avant-garde opera and, fearing the worst, filed away his next symphony, the form-busting Fourth. He would offer the Fifth instead, having simplified his musical language, put a politically correct inscription on the score and, seemingly, hewed to official demands for “optimistic” music. The finale features a triumphal theme, though one that’s easy to recognize as sarcastic now. The program also features Haydn’s Symphony No. 99, music that the NJSO plays better than ever now that Järvi has helped the orchestra develop its own sense of style in this repertoire. There’s also a glamorous rarity on the bill: an arrangement of an arrangement, Maximilian Steinberg’s orchestration of Ferrucio Busoni’s piano version of J.S. Bach’s Chaconne from his D Minor Partita for solo violin. The chaconne is a hypnotic harmonic progression bred in the Baroque that has inspired composers from Purcell to Brahms to John Adams and Magnus Lindberg. Bach’s Chaconne, the most famous, is a towering blend of intimacy and grandeur, heard not only in the solo violin original but in transcriptions for lute and guitar. Busoni maximized the sonorous drama of Bach’s Chaconne for keyboard in his own iconic way, oddly late-Romantic and proto-modernist both. Steinberg, a Russian composer-pedagogue who died in 1946 (and Rimsky-Korsakov’s son-in-law), romanticized and monumentalized the Bach-Busoni Chaconne further with his orchestration. The polyphonic contrasts came out wonderfully in the NJSO’s rich, passionate performance, the players like so many pipes in an organ. The encore was a humorous Shostakovich waltz. Järvi wound the orchestra up and then walked to the wings to let it repeat the music-box motif on its own. He meant to reach the podium again to give the final beat, but didn’t quite make it. The audience hardly needed the punch line to enjoy the joke anyway. Reviving a Dark Horse and His Revelation It doesn’t help your legacy as a composer to give the Nazi salute in 1938 at the premiere of your greatest work. Nor is it good for your cause to tell a young Herbert von Karajan that he has no future in conducting. So it may not be a total surprise that the Austrian composer Franz Schmidt is little known to the wider world, given his difficult character and distasteful political associations. Yet Schmidt has a dedicated band of prominent interpreters on the podium, among them Franz Welser-Möst, Fabio Luisi, Nikolaus Harnoncourt and Neeme Järvi. The latest champion to emerge is Mr. Järvi’s son Kristjan, whose 2005 live recording of Schmidt’s masterpiece, that 1938 work “Das Buch mit Sieben Siegeln” (“The Book With Seven Seals”), has just been released by Chandos. “Das Buch” is a strange and intense work, a sprawling, dense and complex oratorio based on the less-than-cheery biblical Book of Revelation, which Kristjan Järvi calls “an official guide to the worst-case scenario.” It features organ solos, huge choruses, contrapuntal passages reminiscent of the Bach Passions, and orchestral writing that is delicate and monumental. There are operatic vocal quartets, a heldentenor St. John the Divine and a Wotan-like Voice of God. Schmidt, who had a near-fatal heart attack while writing “Das Buch”, distilled Revelation into something close to a narrative. But the essentially mysterious, symbolic nature of the book, with its scenes of violent destruction, plague, war and redemption, remains. The piece has stuck in my head since college, when a roommate added a recording someone had given him to the communal record shelf. Gleefully, we used to play one section in particular for its gloriously menacing and unattractive sound. The passage depicts the opening of the second seal and the unleashing of the Red Horse of the Apocalypse, the bringer of war. “Kill, strangle, slay the foe! Murder, destroy, slay the foe!”, as the English translation has it. Now, several decades later, the arrival of the new version by Mr. Järvi, a hip, unconventional musician, has prompted deeper exploration and raised troubling questions. Schmidt was born in 1874 in Pressburg (now Bratislava, Slovakia). He and contemporaries like Alexander Zemlinsky (a refugee from the Nazis and thus on the other side of the political fence) are part of a second tier of big-scale symphonists overshadowed by Bruckner and Mahler. But their music is worth mining, and Mr. Järvi said he hoped his recording would lead to “a small, or maybe not so small,” resurgence of interest in Schmidt’s music. “I see him really as this great Mahlerian-type composer who really has a lot to offer to the world,” Mr. Järvi, 35, said from Vienna, where he lives. Mahler is a name that keeps coming up in connection with Schmidt, who attended the conservatory in Vienna as a teenager, studied composition with Bruckner and joined the cello sections of the Vienna Philharmonic and the Vienna Court Opera at 22. He taught cello, piano and composition at the conservatory and later became director and rector. A year after he joined the Court Opera, Mahler arrived as conductor. Mahler recognized Schmidt’s talent and made him principal cellist, reportedly wanting him to play every performance Mahler conducted. But the two men, striving to get on the symphonic map, became rivals. Mahler “tried not to help him in every possible way,” Mr. Luisi, the conductor, said. Schmidt also stirred up enmity in the orchestra, prompting some musicians since to say that the technical difficulties of the symphonies are revenge on orchestra musicians everywhere, Mr. Welser-Möst said. Another problem critics find in his music is a lack of individuality amid the smorgasbord of stylistic references. Bits of Bruckner, Brahms and Wagner flash by. The closest connection is to Mahler, Mr. Welser-Möst said. “But what audiences won’t find in Schmidt’s music is the sort of naïve touch which Mahler in the first five symphonies definitely has,” he added. That quality worked against Mahler in past decades, Mr. Welser-Möst said, but now holds special appeal for audiences. Schmidt’s political associations have also hurt his standing. The Chandos liner notes say he gave the Nazi salute at the first performance of “Das Buch” on June 15, 1938, three months after Germany’s annexation of Austria. Commentators, in hindsight, inevitably linked the piece to the apocalypse that was to come to Europe. Schmidt supported Hitler’s rise to power, Mr. Welser-Möst said, and later worked on a cantata glorifying the “German resurrection.” Mr. Järvi said: “He was put into that little Nazi sympathizer box. That’s not exactly the label you want to have.” But there is some ambiguity. The liner notes point out that Schmidt recommended a pupil’s piece called Variations on a Hebrew Theme to music students, including Nazis. And reports emerged that at the end of his life (he died on Feb. 11, 1939), he realized he had made a mistake in supporting the Nazis. “I don’t know how trustworthy that is,” Mr. Welser-Möst said. “At the same time, today we very often make the mistake that we equal an artist’s life with an artist’s genius.” If we look at the robustly anti-Semitic Wagner this way, he added, “then we shouldn’t be playing his music.” Mr. Järvi said Schmidt was not alone in welcoming the idea of a greater Germany and a resurgent Austria. “He was in a situation in which a lot of composers found themselves,” he said. “He had Jewish friends. I just don’t believe he was a bad person.” What he did not have after his death, Mr. Järvi suggested, was a star conductor to champion him the way Mahler had Leonard Bernstein. The logical choice would have been Karajan, but Schmidt had dismissed his conducting talents. “He never forgave Franz Schmidt for that,” Mr. Welser-Möst said. Nevertheless, Schmidt is well known in Austria. There is even a Franz Schmidt Society, which lists eight previous recordings of “Das Buch”. Mr. Welser-Möst, an Austrian himself, knew the work early on and first conducted it at 24. Mr. Luisi learned about it while studying conducting at the conservatory in Graz, Austria, in the 1980s. Every year it was performed at the Graz Cathedral, a tradition started by Anton Lippe, the music director there, a Schmidt student and the first to record the work. “All of Graz came,” Mr. Luisi said. “It was a very important date.” Mr. Luisi, the general music director of the Dresden opera and orchestra, is also chief conductor of the Vienna Symphony, which gave the piece’s first performance. A frequent conductor of Schmidt’s works, he has recorded “Das Buch”, all four of his symphonies and his two major works for piano and orchestra. Neeme Järvi has also recorded the symphonies, but not “Das Buch.” It was through him that Kristjan Järvi got to know Schmidt. Mr. Järvi acknowledges that as an Estonian-American, he is an unlikely promoter of “Das Buch.” “I’m not Harnoncourt, I’m not Franz Welser-Möst, I’m not one of their own guys doing it,” he said. “I think it’s a great opportunity to show this music from a different perspective and show it to a world that is not Austro-Germanic exclusively.” And on the recording, made in the Vienna Musikverein, he conducts the Tonkünstler Orchestra of Lower Austria and the Vienna Singverein. “That’s as authentic as it can get,” he said. Mr. Järvi said he felt equipped to interpret the piece because of an early childhood in the Soviet Union, surrounded by musicians who faced the kind of political pressures Schmidt faced. “But at the same time I live at a different time and see light at the end of the tunnel,” he added. “One thing that this piece deals with is confronting people with things they rarely want to deal with. It’s a very heady, dogmatic introversion into faith and mortality and penance and these really heavy subjects.” He has tried to approach it with humor and emphasis on what he calls its “extraordinary musical expression,” he said. And the second-seal section that sounded so terrifying those many years ago is relatively subdued. “I prefer to consider it as a wonderful story rather than a violence that awaits the human race, a flawed human race,” he said. “It opens with optimism, and then things go south. Then there’s a resurgence of the human spirit. You have to take a lighter approach.” Otherwise, he added, “You just want to go and commit suicide.” Maestro Neeme Järvi alustab suveakadeemiaga
Estonia’s David Oistrakh Festival Opens with Violins and Giants The 2008 David Oistrakh Festival in Pärnu, Estonia opened July 18 with violins and Kalevipoeg, both in tribute to the festival namesake, Russian violinist David Oistrakh. Oistrakh, who summered in Pärnu until his death in 1970 and founded the forerunner of today’s Oistrakh Festival, was a giant whose stature was fittingly commemorated, not only by music for violin, but by Estonian composer Eugen Kapp’s 1947 ballet suite “Kalevipoeg” about the mythical giant who became the subject of Estonia’s epic poem, penned by Friedrich Reinhold Kreuzwald in the mid-19th century. (“Kalevipoeg”, meaning “son of Kalev”, appears in monumental statuary, on chocolate wrappers and in numerous other guises in this tiny country on the Baltic, where Kreutzwald’s epic played an important role in Estonia’s National Awakening in the late 1900s after 700 years of foreign domination.) The concert, by the prodigious Estonian National Youth Symphony Orchestra with guest artists, violinists Viktor Tretjakov and Natalia Lihhopoi, led off a two-week tribute to Oistrakh on the centennial of his birth. A festive crowd gathered in the city’s sparkling new seashell-inspired Concert Hall on the Pärnu River where it empties into the Baltic Sea. On the podium, banked by blue and white flowers, symbolic of Estonia’s blue, white and black flag, was native son Neeme Järvi, his trademark blue handkerchief peeking from the pocket of his white jacket. A suite from the 1947 ballet “Kalevipoeg” by Estonian composer Eugen Kapp (1908-1996) opened the concert on an engaging note. Tretjakov and Lihhopoi were soloists in Bach’s Concerto for Two Violins in D Minor (programmed, said Järvi, because of the Kapp family’s German connections). Tretjakov, one of today’s pre-eminent violinists, topped the evening with a masterful performance of the Brahms Concerto. The ballet suite, parts of which were first recorded in 1962 by Järvi’s older brother Vallo (1923-1994), comprises six episodes from the Faust-like Kalevipoeg’s life. They include: “Kalevipoeg’s Dance with the Maiden of the Lake”, “Finnish Dance”, “Forging of the Swords”, “Dance of the Shepherds and Shepherdesses”, “Dance of the Wind” and Folk Dance. Charming and accessible, each made a vivid impression, enhanced by Järvi’s sharp-as-a-tack conducting vocabulary and obvious affection for the music. Especially picturesque was “Dance of the Wind”, with its fluttery flutes, buzzing cymbals and gale-like fortissimo conclusion. Following the Kapp, Bach was a kind of dip into pure music. Tretjakov and Lihhopoi traversed it with grace and a refined, lacework style filled with gentle warmth and good humor. Järvi led with unerring rhythmic and harmonic focus. Winner of the 1966 Tchaikovsky International Competition, Tretjakov is not nearly as well known in the West as he should be. The intensity and emotion he poured into the Brahms Concerto were overwhelming, as was his technical mastery. Heli Ernits, principal oboist of the Estonian National Youth Orchestra, opened the Adagio with a splendid, silken-toned solo, while Tretjakov’s sweetly expressive tone, soaring into the violin’s highest register, was like an outpouring of birdsong at the end. Despite persistent, rhythmic clapping and repeated bows, he nevertheless withheld an encore. Põhjamaade tippe Leigol Sel laupäeval algab festival, mille kohta lühidalt öeldakse Leigo. 2. august keskendub klassikalisele muusikale, järgmise nädala lõpul jätkub pidu popmuusikaga, aga sellisega, millel on side rahvamuusikaga, kusjuures külla tulevad mõned Põhjamaade kõlavamad nimed. Järvisid on varsti rohkem kui Soomes järvi, Leigo järvel võib neist suurt osa nädala lõpus ka kuulda. Kümme Järvit musitseerib, kavas on Bach, Mozart, Vivaldi, Piazolla; kolm Järvit dirigeerib, kavas Grieg, Saint-Saëns, Sisask, Brahms. Dirigendikepi all on Läti Rahvuslik Sümfooniaorkester ja segakoor Latvija. Ürgsed hümnid Jimi Tenor on soome muusika tuntumaid eksportartikleid, kes ei ole aga läbi löönud meinstriimmuusikas, sest ta hoiab sellest kaugele, küll aga on ta hinnatud laivesineja ja paljud tema albumid on üle maailma tõusnud kultusplaatide staatusse (parim on „Innervision”, 1997). Kui Jimi tegi elektroonilist muusikat sellelaadse ühe mainekaima plaadifirma Warp sildi all, siis võttis ta inspiratsiooni 60-ndate free-jazz’ist, 70-ndate space rock’ist, 80-ndate techno’st ning muudelt äärealadelt ja moodustas oma allikatest unikaalse retrofuturistliku kosmilise helikoe, kohtusid techno, funk jm elemendid. Mullu ilmus nende viies album „Go Go Smear The Poison Ivy”: tüüned saundid, vaiksed, aga pingpongivad biidid, eklektiline helikeel ja õrn laul. Mum on Islandi tuntumaid popartiste Björki ja Sigur Rosi järel. Eivor elab samuti Islandil, on aga pärit Fääri saartelt ning ta on viljelnud nii rock’i ja jazz’i kui ka fääri muistendballaade, Leigol toetab teda Tallinna Kammerorkester. Chalice esitleb oma neljandat kauamängivat, Villu Veski on kutsunud suure rahvusvahelise seltskonna, esinevad superpopparid Vaiko Eplik ja Eliit, ja nii ta läheb. Leigo Järvemuusika 2008 8. august: Ürgsed hümnid 9. august Tori kirikus mälestati represseeritud muusikuid David Oistrahhi festivali raames toimunud Neeme Järvi suveakadeemia lõppkontsert sai reedel teoks Toris Eesti sõjameeste mälestuskirikus, kus mälestati represseeritud muusikuid ja avati neile mälestustahvel. Kõlas Eesti heliloojate muusika, dirigeerisid Neeme Järvi ja tema suveakadeemia dirigendid. Festivali kunstiline juht Allar Kaasik ütles, et kontserdil kõlava muusikaga tahetakse meenutada, et ligi pool sajandit represseeriti kogu Eesti rahvast. „Need kannatused, mis meile osaks said, tootsid palju kaunist muusikat. Ja see muusika elab. On olnud palju heliloojaid, kes oma valu ja kannatused on valanud muusikasse ja loonud šedöövreid. Neile inimestele võib öelda tänu, et meie riik on juba 90aastane,” rääkis Kaasik. Esinejaile meeldib Oistrahhi-festivalil Saksamaal elav venelannast lauljanna Aleksandra Lubtšanski kiidab Pärnut ja festivali korraldust ning loodab siin tulevikuski esineda. Lubtšanski peatus Pärnus viibitud kolme päeva jooksul Tervises nagu paljud teisedki festivali esinejad. Soojale ilmale vaatamata tuleb Ljubtšanski kokkusaamisele, popp must tikandiga mantel seljas. Ja must kleit ning mustad sukkpüksid. „Mulle meeldib must värv, see nagu kaitseb,” põhjendab ta. Ljubtšanski kuulub nende muusikute hulka, kes suudab end silmapaistvalt realiseerida mitmel alal. Nii on ta suurepärane sopran, aga astub üles pianistinagi. „Minu unistus on anda välja heliplaat, kus laulan ja mängin klaverit, aga mitte nii, et ma iseennast klaveril saadan,” ütles Ljubtšanski. Lauljanna on palju esinenud väikestes Saksa teatrites ja talle on tuttav poliitikute soov majandusprobleeme kultuuri arvelt lahendada. Ljubtšanski on Neeme ja Paavo Järviga vesteldes kuulnud Oistrahhi-festivali rahamurest ja on veendunud, et muusikaüritust ei tohiks mingil juhul kaduda lasta. „Olete teinud suurepärase festivali ja seda lõpetada oleks suur viga,” arvas ta. Pärnusse jääks lauljanna meelsasti pikemaks, kui uued tegemised ees ei ootaks. „Mulle meeldib siin väga, on rahulik ja vaikne,” kiitis lauljanna. „Ja toidud on lihtsad, aga väga maitsvad.” Pärnus meeldis lauljannale seepärastki, et siin tutvus ta lähemalt Järvidega. „Muidugi teadsin Neeme Järvit, teada teatakse ju kogu maailmas, Venemaal ja Saksamaal armastatakse teda väga. Aga nüüd nägin, kui imetlusväärne pere see on, kuidas nad omavahel suhtlevad.” Oistrahhi-festival sai uhke punkti Üleeile õhtul Pärnu kontserdimajas toimunud Oistrahhi-festivali lõppkontsert oli pühendatud David Oistrahhi mälestusele, saal ja rõdud olid publikut puupüsti täis, ridamisi astus rahva ette viiulivirtuoose, kes lahkusid lavalt roosidega ja braavo-hüüete saatel. Lava kohale tõmmatud ekraanil nägi filmikatkeid legendaarsest muusikust, Peterburi festivaliorkestrit juhatas maestro Neeme Järvi. Vaheldumisi esinesid noored briljantse mänguoskusega muusikud Irmina Trynkos, Aleksander Gilman ja Kathy Kang ning kogenud tšellist David Geringas. Kõlasid viiuli- ja tšelloliteratuuri pärlid, Camille Saint-Saënsi, Pablo Sarasate, Henryk Wieniawski ja Antonio Vivaldi teosed. Pjotr Tšaikovski ülikeeruka, maailma klassikalise muusika kullafondi kuuluva viiulikontserdi kandis ette meisterviiuldaja Viktor Tretjakov. Viimasena kõlanud Joseph Haydni „Lahkumissümfooniaga” andsid muusikud mõista, et selleks korraks on festival läbi. Õhtu juht linnapea Mart Viisitamm rõhutas, et festival on Pärnu kultuurielu kõrgsündmus ja toimub järgmiselgi aastal. Paavo Järvi: ärge unustage, et paljud 20. sajandi geniaalsed muusikud elasid suviti Pärnus Ilmas ei ole just palju muusikute perekondi, kus pojad isa jälgedes pühendunult astudes kogu maailma heaks midagi ära teha suudavad, sellega austuse välja teenivad ja oma kodumaad meeles pidades rahva südame uhkusega täidavad. Kas oli juba päris noorena selge, et lähete isa jälgedes? Kas isa on teile olnud suurim õpetaja ja eeskuju? Kriitik? Neeme Järvil tuli ise endale maailmas teed rajada, kas teil on selle võrra lihtsam olnud? Teie eesti keel kõlab veatult ja aktsendita. Ometi olete 28 aastat elanud USAs, küllap on teist saanud maailmakodanik? Mis kodakondsus teil on, mis keeles mõtlete? Kus asub teie kodu? Millal märkasite, et teid hakati maestroks kutsuma? 2010. aastal saab teist Orchestre de Paris’ peadirigent, seda kollektiivi on juhtinud teiste seas selline legend nagu Herbert von Karajan. Kas dirigentide maailmas on kõva konkurents ja mis on selle karjääri tipp? Kui suur on teie pere? Millist rolli mängib muusika teie kodus? Leigo järvemuusika festivalil astub üles Järvide dünastia, enam kui tosin Järvi-nimelist nooremat ja vanemat. Kui tihti kokku saate? Kas teil on mõni huvi, mis pole muusikaga seotud? Kas vaikus meeldib teile? Olete avaliku elu tegelane. Eesti kõmulehtedes ja seltskonnaajakirjanduses dirigendid eriti ei figureeri, kuidas on lood Inglismaal ja Ameerikas? Meistrikursusi põgusalt jälgides võib öelda, et olete innukas õpetaja. Millised on teie sidemed Pärnuga? Meie õde Mariga oleme poolpärnakad. Mulle meeldib Pärnu. See linn on mulle eriliselt südamelähedane. Ma lihtsalt naudin seda iga kord, kui mööda linna ringi käin. Tunnen isegi siinsed sääsed ära, kes mind sõbralikult hammustama tulevad. Mulle meeldivad ilusti korda tehtud vanad puumajad. See on erakordne koht. Olime kooliajal igal suvel kolm kuud Kirbu jõe ääres. Vanaema elas Pärnus, maakodu asus Kirbu jõe ääres. Käisime isegi nüüd seda kohta vaatamas, seal on kõik niivõrd muutunud. Kus varem oli lage, on nüüd mets. Leigo järvedel musitseerib Järvide dünastia Täna saab Leigo järvedel kokku Järvide muusikutedünastia, kus isa Neeme ja pojad Paavo ja Kristjan Järvi dirigeerivad ning lisaks esineb maailmakuulsate dirigentide suguvõsa noorte Järvide kammerorkester. Idee kutsuda Leigole kokku terve Järvide muusikutedünastia sai alguse Leigo talu peremehelt, vahendasid ERR Uudised „Aktuaalset kaamerat”. Isa Neeme ning pojad Paavo ja Kristjan dirigeerivad kordamööda Läti Rahvuslikku Sümfooniorkestrit, kes esitab Leigo maalilisel maastikul Griegi „Peer Gynt” süiti nr. 1, Saint-Saënsi Sümfoonia nr. 3 ja Brahmsi „Saksa reekviem”. Samuti astuvad Leigol üles Järvide eri põlvkondade instrumentalistid kammerorkestriga, esitades koos Läti orkestriga kauneid klassikapalu nagu Bachi Brandenburgi kontsert no. 4 ja Vivaldi Piccolo-flöödi kontsert. Kokku saab Leigo Järvemuusikal esinemas näha 23 nooremat ja vanemat Järvide esindajat. Kümme Järvit musitseerib ja kolm Järvit dirigeerib. Nii palju Järvisid polegi varem koos musitseerinud. Leigo järvedel kõlas laupäeval suurejooneline Järvi-muusika Hulk järvi, paarkümmend Järvit ja tuli taevani Laupäeval tegi Otepää külje all avalöögi Leigo suvekontsertide sari Järvide perekonna mammutettevõtmisega, mille avalöögi tegid maestro Neeme Järvi kolmanda põlvkonna muusikud kell 17. Suurmeister ise sai käed rüppe lasta ajal, mil kellaseierid hakkasid ketrama uue päeva esimesi minuteid. Seega seitse tundi imelistest klassikutest kuni klassikalise muusika homse päevani, kus enam noote ei tunnistata, vaid muusika pannakse kirja umbmäärase joonena. Lubatud oli valguse ja muusika imelist kooslust ja seda pakuti umbes 300 kuulajale täie raha eest, mis ei olnud sugugi mitte väga väike. Pimeduse saabudes põles maa, taevas ja vesigi. Väga lummav vaatepilt, mida tolleks ajaks saatsid õnneks juba sajandeid vastu pidanud helindid. Mõistagi tegi vaikse loomeõhtu omapäraseks, et vähemalt iga viieteistkümnes vaateplatsil nautleja või püünele pääsenu kandis perenime Järvi. Kui küsisin Kristjan Järvilt, palju Järvisid Leigol koos on, lõpes ta lakkamatu lai naeratus ja Euroopa-mõõdus superdirigent jäi mõttesse: „Ei teagi täpselt. Neid ei jõua ju üles lugeda. Aga umbes paarikümne ümber kindlasti.” Kellest lavale pääses neliteist. Ja ülejäänud jäid kinni hoidma lapsevankrist või emme-issi näpuotsast kindlasti.„Oleme täna nii hulgakesi koos esimest korda!” 6. august 2008 SL Õhtuleht Urmas Vahe Keegi ei tea, milliseid võlu- või ussisõnu Leigo talu peremees Tõnu Tamm märtsis ookeani taha saatis. Aga need mõjusid. Ja mingi seletamatu prääniku peale sai teoks see, mis polnud sündinud veel kunagi varem: peaaegu täies koosseisus sai nädalavahetusel Leigos kokku uskumatu klann Järvisid. Nad tulid kui palverändurid Pühasse Linna. Igast maailma otsast ja eri mandritelt. Maestro ise saabus koos kaasaga juba kolmapäeval. Sai rahulikult aega maha võtta ja maatoitu süüa. Päev varem tuli sugupuu Soome-haru. Neid oli juba väga palju – enamasti nooremat peret. Neeme vennapojal Teedul ja Maril ju viis last. Kõik loomulikult muusikud. Kolm sõitjaid täis suurt Läti numbrimärkidega bussi sabas, veeres Riiast kohale Kristjan. Vähema autopargiga ei tulnud kuidagi välja, sisse pidi mahtuma ju terve Läti Rahvuslik Sümfooniaorkester ja segakoor Latvija. Koori tenor Valdis, kes pärast sõitu ukseorvas suitsu kiskus, rääkis, et see polnud lätlastele sugugi hüpe tundmatusse. „Järvid on Lätis arvatavasti sama kuulsad kui Raimonds Pauls Eestis. Usun, et pole ainsatki lätlast, kes Neeme Järvist midagi vähemalt kuulnud poleks. Nii Neeme kui ka Kristjan on meiega palju koos töötanud. Igas žanris. Koos oleme linti laulnud isegi ühe filmi muusika. Praegugi lõppes Kristjani käe all pikem harjutusperiood.” Kontserdipäeval kell 10 pidid kõik kohal olema. Tund hiljem algas esimene proov. Esimene herilasesuts Maestro tõstab käed ja langetab need samas. Sest käe on tõstnud hoopis kontrabassimängija: kõikidel on nina ees noodid, aga kontramehel mitte. See on krahh. Kontrabass on teadupärast orkestris kõige tähtsam pill. Sest ta on põhi, millele toetuvad kõik ülejäänud. Neeme Järvi on vihane kui herilane. Esimest korda läheb ta hääl käredaks ja ei saagi täpselt aru, mida ta tahab: kas kedagi lahti lasta või hoopis kinni panna. Vastutajat igal juhul. Häbist punetavat vastutajat ei leidu. Igal juhul lüüakse autole hääled sisse ja kiirkuller asub teele Riia poole. Brahms läheb siiski käima, aga ilma kontrabassita. Kes lavalt vabad, käivad kontserdiplatsil ringi nagu tavalised inimesed. Igale uudishimulikule lähenejale on neil mõni soe sõna öelda. Ja hiljem tänatakse pärijat veel pealegi. Kui vanad lõvid oma harjutusega maha saavad ja kutsikad peale pääsevad, lähen maestrot jahtima. Teadupärast on Neeme Järvil harjumus alati enne kontserti tunnikeseks-paariks sõba silmale lasta. Ja see hetk võis olla lähedal. Natuke naljakas küsitlus sai. „Kas Järvide suguvõsa ei hakka juba nii suureks paisuma, et vanaisa varsti kõiki äragi ei tunne?” Superdirigent ei kuulnud vist hästi ja palus küsimust korrata. Püüan teiste sõnadega: „Noori on juba nii palju, et kas vanaisa kõiki tunnebki? Ja lõppu ei näi tulevat?” „Jaa-jaa...” noogutab suurmeister mõtlikult. Ja elavneb siis: „Aga vaata, kui hästi nad mängivad. Milline kooskõla ja pillitunnetus...” Siis võtab tükkideks lahti kogu kolmanda põlve, räägib kõikide plussidest eraldi ja annab õppetunni kogu muusika oskussõnastikust. Ning lisab lõpetuseks: „Aitäh, ma lähen nüüd puhkama.” Rahvast hakkab tasapisi kogunema. Püütakse haarata paremaid kohti. Üllatusega märgatakse, et neid ei olegi, kõik on võrdselt head. Tuntud inimestest märkan telesuurmeistrit Uno Maasikat, tuliuued tossud jalas – ta on tõesti peole tulnud. Endine pankur Guido Sammelselg paistab näovärvi järgi olevat pärale jõudnud oma alalisest elukohast Hispaaniast. Viskub samuti toolile ja jääb varsti magama. Päike on piinavalt kuum. Maraton kuubis „Tead, mis hullu juttu mina kuulsin,” vastab teine. „Mingid kuradi loodus- või keskkonnakaitsjad jauravad, et Tamme maalapi tammid on mingid teed ära uhtunud ja Tamm ise metsa maha raiunud. Nüüd olla mingid krimkamehed pundis ja tahtvat pärast kontserte Tammel koguni käed raudu lüüa või mingid ilged trahvid kaela määrida.” „No on ikka lollakad. Las need looduskaitsjad tulevad korrakski ise siit läbi. Ma arvan, et Tammele tuleks hoopis orden anda. Ei tea, kas Eestimaal ongi teist säherdust paika, kust loodus nõnda kena paistab. Ehk Munamäe tornist... Täitsa segi peast. Aga eks neil peagi midagi teha olema. Päris pätte nad ju kätte ei saa.” Rahva hääl... Enne suurmeistrite ülesastumist kella 20 paiku pandi tossama esimesed lõkked. Vara oli, väljas alles valge. Ainult paradiis hakkas suitsuste lõkete taustal muutuma pigem põrgu eeskojaks. Ja ilmgi on muutunud põrgulikult külmaks. Siis löövad loitma 100 järvevette ankurdatud küünalt ja keset järve hakkavad purskama kaevud. Künkatippudes süttivad aina suuremad ja kõrgemad lõkked, juba öiseks muutunud taevast hakkavad puurima helgiheitjad. Pimedas lükkab peremehest paadimeheks muutunud Tõnu Tamm roostikust välja sõudepaadi ja võtab pardale Maarika Järvi, kes oma võluflööti õrnalt sooja teki sees hoiab. See on teekond isa poole, kes saarel tütart orkestri ees juba ootab. Algab õhtu üks peateoseid, Urmas Sisaski spetsiaalselt Maarika jaoks ja Lepo Sumera mälestuseks kirjutatud teos „Leoniidid”. Pisut hiljem lendab taevasse sadakond valgustatud sooviküünalt. Õnnis ja ilus hetk. Perel võtab pisara silma „Jah, me oleme täna nii hulgakesi koos esimest korda,” jätkab Mari. „Ainult mõned üksikud on puudu. Ja juba on kuulda, et suguvõsa võib täieneda veelgi. Peaaegu sama seltskond tähistas ka Teedu onu Neeme 70. sünnipäeva Ameerikas, aga siis ei võtnud me pille kättegi. Eesti Vabariigi 80. aastapäeval Madridis olime ka kohal üsna suure väega. Siis juhatas vägesid seal elanud Maarika. Repertuaar pandi kokku nii, et kammermuusika osa tarvis tegi igaüks oma ettepanekud. Siis algas ühistöö. Kes oma partiid ei osanud, õppis selle kiiresti ära. Ilusad kohtumised on alati üürikesed. Täna õhtul saame veel väikeses pidulauas kokku. Homme oleme juba kadunud – kes kaugemale, kes lähemale. Ainult Neeme pere jääb vist paariks päevaks siia,” võtab Mari jutu kokku.
Tõnu Tamm, the “man behind the curtain” at Estonia’s astonishing Lake Leigo Music Festival, is part Wizard of Oz, part Richard Wagner. The 10-year-old festival, held in August in hilly South Estonia near Otepää, partakes somewhat of Woodstock, too (in venue and length and timing of concerts), but Leigo is far less a happening than the fulfillment of a lifelong dream. Tamm, a biologist and former documentary film maker, retired to the Shire-like countryside in 1981, taking his love of music and art with him. He married it with nature by creating his own theater on the water with an imagination and wizardry worthy of the master of Bayreuth. Where else in the world could you sit on the banks of a lake while the sound of a pipe organ, like the voice of an ancient deity, rebounds from the evergreen forest, candles float into the air and bonfires go up on the opposite shore? At Leigo. you can hear everything from classical to rock and ethnic music, played far from city lights and noise and stage managed to blend with the natural environment. (Also on the 2008 festival were Estonian saxophonist Villu Veski and Faroese singer Eivor.) This year the festival drew on Estonia’s natural resources in more ways than one. Performing August 2 were members of the Järvi family, Estonia’s first family of music. The concert, a four-part marathon that began at 6 p.m. and lasted until after midnight with intermissions, featured 13 Järvi’s, ages 14-71, belonging to the prodigious family headed by Estonian-born conductor Neeme Järvi (one thinks of the Bach family for comparison). The word järv means “lake” in Estonian, so the event gave Tamm the opportunity for a felicitous play on words: Järvid Leigo järvedel” (translated “Lakes on Leigo lakes”). In addition to Neeme were his sons Paavo and Kristjan, both conductors, 45 and 36, respectively; daughter Maarika, 44 (flute); Paavo’s wife Tatiana, 28 (violin); Kristjan’s wife Hayley, 26 (flute and piccolo); Neeme’s nephew Teet, 50 (cello, son of Neeme’s late brother Vallo, also a conductor); Teet’s wife Mari, 49 (piano) and Teet and Mari’s five children: Madis, 20 (viola), Marius, 26 (cello), Martin, 14 (violin), Mihkel, 23 (piano) and Miina, 25 (violin). Madis, a student at the Lahti Conservatory in Finland, is also a promising composer whose String Quartet was performed by Miina, Martin, Madis and Teet. The concert included chamber, orchestral and choral/orchestral music divided into four “hours” or segments. The musicians, including the Latvian National Symphony Orchestra and State Choir “Latvija,” performed on barges on the lake just below Tamm’s farmhouse. A small barge drawn up to the shore held the chamber ensembles, which performed first. A larger barge for the orchestra and chorus lit by tall lamps shaped like inverted mushrooms stood near the opposite shore. As darkness approached (between 10 and 11 p.m. in August) the lamps took on different colors, complementing the fire and light show on the bank behind them. Close ups of the performers could be seen on a huge TV screen on the listeners’ side of the lake. At the highpoint of the evening, during the final movements of Brahms’ German Requiem with the Latvian Orchestra and Choir led by Neeme Järvi, the sight and sounds were awe-inspiring. “Tod, wo ist dein Stachel?” (“Death, where is thy sting?”) shouted the chorus as flames from the bonfires rose high into the air. Streams of colored light penetrated the smoke and were projected onto the evergreen forest framing the lake. Lighted candles attached to helium balloons (black for invisibility at night) were loosed to float up to the sky and take their place among the constellations. The audience, which numbered 1,500, began gathering in late afternoon and were able to watch the camera crew from Estonian Television assemble and test their equipment during the final ensemble rehearsals. Listeners brought blankets and jackets (the night was cool, dropping into the 40s after dark) and sat in lawn seats provided by emt, Estonia’s telecommunications company. A threat of rain earlier in the day did not materialize. Food and drink were available throughout the evening at concession tables near the farmhouse. The musicians, most in formal dress, boarded the barges via ramps from the shore. Three people in a row boat lit floating candles and placed them on the lake surface as dusk approached... It was all M & M’s for the first half. Violinist Miina and pianist Mihkel led off with the brief, sweetly romantic “Poeme d’amour” by Estonian composer Arthur Lemba. Cellist Marius joined them in a very well played Piano Trio in C Major, “Lovisa Trio,” by Sibelius. Marius made agile work of David Popper’s Hungarian Rhapsody, Op. 38 (with mother Mari on piano), followed by a fleet virtuoso encore, Rimsky-Korsakoff’s “Flight of the Bumblebee.” Having heard and admired Madis’ String Quartet in rehearsal earlier in the day, I found my impressions confirmed at the concert. About 12 minutes long, it recalls Shostakovich in the opening scherzo-like movement. It turns reflective, then intense, in the slow movement, where a lovely viola solo projects through gorgeous string sonorities. The third movement is a romp, with the hint of a “motto” theme, more good-humored than sardonic, by the cello. Perhaps most striking was the finale, which began with the four instruments on legato chords followed by a rough, march-like passage. A contrasting, heartfelt violin solo, taken up by the viola, led back into the opening sonorities and the work was capped by an echo of the scherzo and its motto-like theme. Teet Järvi demonstrated a warm, enveloping tone colored with intense vibrato in Astor Piazzolla’s “Le Grand Tango.” The music grew mournful, then vigorous with some tart, double-stopped glissandos at the end. Mari accompanied splendidly on the piano. The first tund (hour) of the concert ended with Marius Järvi in a mind-blowing performance of Australian composer Carl Vine’s 1994 “Inner World” for cello and pre-recorded tape. It is a dramatic work (about 12 minutes) with some aching, opening outcries by the solo cello, repeated sul ponticello (on the bridge). There are lots of percussive effects on the tape (a kind of alter ego of the soloist). The music evolved into a bizarre duo at times. There were sounds of laughing, popcorn (?) and Asian-flavored metal percussion in addition to taped cello. At other times, the music, which was surprisingly melodic overall, had a more traditional solo and accompaniment flavor. It worked up to a dance-like conclusion, with Järvi tapping the cello, then generating fireworks as he poured on ascending, step-wise arpeggios. There were breaks between eachsegmnt of the concert, the longest between the second and third, when audience members sought refreshments, the small barge was towed to the side, and the orchestra and choir moved onto the larger stage. What would Leigo be without the organ, Tamm’s favorite instrument? (He often collaborates with the annual Tallinn International Organ Festival.) Accordingly, hours two and three began with organ music: Louis Marchand’s “Fond d’orgue” and Pachelbel’s Canon (performed by Mari Järvi) and Saint-Saens’ “Danse Macabre” (Aare-Paul Lattiku). Flutist Maarika Järvi lent her considerable talents to Mozart’s Flute Quartet, K.285, with Miina, Madis and Marius on violin, viola and cello. Hayley Järvi followed suit with a delightful performance of Vivaldi’s Piccolo Concerto in C Major, RV 443, accompanied by a Järvi chamber ensemble. Works by J.S. Bach comprised some of the loveliest moments of the evening, with the Double Violin Concerto performed by Tatiana and Miina Järvi and the Brandenburg Concerto No. 4 in G Major with Tatiana and flutists Maarika and Hayley. The sound of flutes and violin was particularly charming in this setting. Tatiana, who has a feeling for baroque music, handled the violin’s rapid passage work and tremolando near the end with ease. By the beginning of the second half, candles were being distributed over the lake and the fires on the opposite shore were smoking and taking on color. Paavo Järvi and the LNSO called into play the lake’s fountains, which spouted high into the air during their exhilarating performance of Smetana’s “The Moldau.” Kristjan Järvi followed with the Suite No. 1 from Grieg’s “Peer Gynt,” which he led in an expressive manner reminiscent of his father (minimal, with a downward gaze in “Ase’s Death,” lots of energy and his own big smile at the end of “Hall of the Mountain King”). Flutist Maarika returned for Estonian composer Urmas Sisask’s 2001 flute concerto “Leonides,” another work (like the Smetana) in tune with the natural environment. Sisask’s passion is astronomy, and he pictures the flute here as a comet grazing the earth’s atmosphere and leaving a shower of meteors in its path (Comet Temple-Tuttle, which annually produces a meteor shower in the constellation Leo, was his inspiration). Written for Maarika, it has a lively tango section and the potential to become a real audience favorite. For logistical reasons, Maarika and Neeme were unable to give it the same choreographic treatment they did in July in Tori, Estonia as part of the David Oistrakh Festival. There she walked on playing the flute’s opening cadenza (like a comet approaching Earth) and left the same way, while Neeme made his own entrance and exit beside the double bass, cueing him personally for a tongue-in-cheek effect. At Leigo, Maarika began in a row boat ferried to the barge by Tamm. It was a clever touch, but awkward to duplicate at the end. Musically and visually, the performance was quite impressive, though lacking the intimacy and warm acoustics of St. George’s Church in Tori. Brahms Requiem was right at home at Leigo. Personal and non-liturgical, it harmonized well with the use of fire, particularly in the far northern countries where Christianity arrived last and Midsummer Night (June 24) is still celebrated with bonfires. Järvi focused deeply on the light-shining-in-darkness aspect of the Requiem, with brisk tempos and an abundant feeling of joy. Soprano Pille Lill and baritone Atlan Karp were effective soloists with “Latvija” Choir, a mixed chorus with few peers in the world, who gave clarity and meaning to both the music and text. Applause was long and stubborn, some listeners refusing to give up even after the encore, a benedictory performance of Mozart’s sublime “Ave Verum Corpus.” Leigo Järvemuusika aegu püütud suurim kala.
Üks Leigo järvede muusikapäev, mis jääb kauaks meelde Olen kontserdikuulajana igasugusesse trikitamisse ja nn. multimeediaks kutsutud muusika „garneerimisse” juba üsna skeptiliselt suhtunud. Eks ma peljanud pisut ka seda kuulsate Järvide suguseltsi ühiskontserti, lausa kontsertide jada, mis Leigo järvedel 2. augustil teoks pidi saama ja saigi. Muljeid suvisest muusikaelust, sedakorda Pärnust David Oistrahhi festival 18.–29. juulini Pärnus. Avakontsert 18. juulil Pärnu kontserdimajas: Viktor Tretjakov (viiul), Natalia Lihhopoi (viiul), Üle-eestiline Noorte Sümfooniaorkester, Neeme Järvi (dirigent). Kavas Eugen Kapi süit balletist „Kalevipoeg”, J. S. Bachi Kontsert kahele viiulile d-moll ja Brahmsi Viiulikontsert D-duur. Lõppkontsert 29. juulil Pärnu kontserdimajas: Viktor Tretjakov (viiul), Aleksander Gilman (viiul), Kathy Kang (viiul), Sigrid Kuulmann (viiul), Irmina Trynkos (viiul), David Geringas (tšello), festivali sümfooniaorkester, Neeme Järvi (dirigent), Paavo Järvi (dirigent). Kavas: Tšaikovski, Rimski-Korsakov, Saint-Saëns, Sarasate, Wieniawski, Vivaldi ja Haydn. Viktor Tretjakov on muusikamaailmas tuntud nimi. Tema mäng 1966. aasta Tšaikovski-nimelisel konkursil oli sedavõrd täiuslik, et lisaks esimesele preemiale pälvis ta kõigi kolleegide jäägitu tunnustuse. Viiuldajate žürii tööd juhtinud David Oistrahhi kommentaar oli: „Oleme uue talendi võrra rikkamad.” Tretjakov oli tollal 19-aastane ja dirigendipuldis seisis temast kümmekond aastat vanem Neeme Järvi. Oma põlvkonna viiuldajatega (Kremer, Spivakov, Grindenko) võrreldes ei ole Tretjakov Eestis juba kaua esinenud. Moskvas ja Kölnis tegutseva professorina ei ole ta vajanud ka kärarikkaid reklaamikampaaniaid, seetõttu oli võimalus kuulata tema tõlgitsuses Brahmsi ja Tšaikovski viiulikontserte avastuslik ja eriline sündmus. NJSO comes through with flying colors It’s always heartening to see difficult things done just the right way, as the New Jersey Symphony Orchestra did in Newark and New Brunswick this weekend. The NJSO presented new music – typically a challenge in the classical realm – not dutifully or dryly, but with pizzazz and a sense of occasion. Järvi tõi USAs esiettekandele Erkki-Sven Tüüri sümfoonia New Jersey Sümfooniaorkestri muusikadirektor Neeme Järvi juhatas reedel ja pühapäeval Erkki-Sven Tüüri IV sümfoonia („Magma”) esmaettekandeid USAs, kus ka helilooja ise kohal viibis. Kontserdid toimusid orkestri residentsis New Jersey Performing Arts Centeris Newarkis ning New Brunswicki State Theateris. Samas kavas kõlasid veel Benjamin Britteni „Neli mereinterluudiumi” ooperist „Peter Grimes” ning Edward Elgari „Enigma variatsioonid”. Erkki-Sven Tüüri Neljanda sümfoonia „Magma” solistiks oli legendaarne löökpillivirtuoos, šotlanna Evelyn Glennie, kelle tellimusel ja kellele pühendatuna Tüür spetsiaalselt oma kontsertteose kirjutaski. Sümfoonia tuli esiettekandele 2002. aastal Antwerpenis Evelyniga solistina. Paralleelselt sümfoonia ettekannetega pidas Erkki-Sven Tüür nüüd ka loenguid oma muusikast neljas USA ülikoolis – New York Universitys, Juilliard Schoolis, Princeton Universitys ja Montclaire State Universitys. Maestro Järvile on oktoober aga kokku kümne kontserdiga pingeline: pärast õhtuid Lausanne’i Kammerorkestriga Šveitsis toimusid 3. ja 5. oktoobril kontserdid Haagi Residentie-orkestri ees. 19. oktoobril mängib kuulus Lang Lang Järvi käe all New Jerseys Chopini mõlemad klaverikontserdid, 16., 17., 18. ja 21. oktoobril juhatab Järvi USA tippviisikusse („Big Five”) kuuluvat Chicago Sümfooniaorkestrit ning juba 29. oktoobril on tal esimene kontsert London Philharmonic Orchestra ees Londoni Royal Festival Hallis. Neeme Järvi dirigeerib taas Chicago Sümfooniaorkestrit Alates eilsest juhatab maestro Neeme Järvi taas maailmakuulsa Chicago Sümfooniaorkestri kontserte USAs. „Ma olen maailmakodanik, ma elan seal, kus ma töötan,” ütleb maestro. Sel nädalal elab ja töötab ta Chicagos, vahendavad ERR Uudised. 107liikmeline tipporkester Chicago Symphony Orchestra kuulub USA nn. Big Five’i hulka, kuhu sealne muusikaavalikkus arvab veel neli orkestrit: New York Philharmonic Orchestra, Philadelphia Orchestra, Boston Symphony Orchestra ja Cleveland Orchestra. Neist kolme muusikadirektorid-peadirigendid on pärit Euroopast. Järvi seekordses kavas on Sergei Rahmaninovi Kolmas klaverikontsert ja Sergei Tanejevi Neljas sümfoonia, mida väga harva esitatakse. Järvi takes CSO on enjoyable trip back to old Russia I’m all for the Chicago Symphony Orchestra’s performing rescue missions on behalf of music that history has forgotten, as long as the music is worth rescuing. Such a work is Sergei Taneyev’s Symphony No. 4, written 110 years ago but never performed by the CSO until Thursday night at Orchestra Hall, where it turned up as part of an all-Russian program conducted by Neeme Järvi. While nothing about the Fourth Symphony shouts masterpiece, you have to respect it for its craftsmanship, the quality of its musical ideas and the way those ideas are integrated into a shapely symphonic structure. Its 40 minutes combine Brahmsian rigor, Russian heroics and songful emotion, which Taneyev tastefully refuses to wear on his sleeve. Järvi clearly believes in the work’s merits, and he had the orchestra and the rest of us believing in them too. Each movement was vividly characterized, and the boldness of Taneyev’s writing for brass came across with particular impact. The CSO musicians played the unfamiliar score as if it were standard repertory to them. Järvi is the second of two conductors who are replacing Riccardo Chailly this month at the CSO. The concert marked a reunion, of sorts, for the Estonian maestro and Yefim Bronfman, who made their joint CSO debuts in 1985 playing Rachmaninoff’s Second Piano Concerto. Thursday’s concert held another Rachmaninoff concerto, No. 3. I can’t recall when I’ve enjoyed a Bronfman performance more. It was all there: Leonine power, thunderous brio and glinting virtuosity were put to the service of the composer’s daunting keyboard writing. This Rachmaninoff packs more notes per bar than any concerto in the standard canon, and Bronfman was fully in command of each and every one of them. Järvi tended to the lush orchestra with a practiced hand as well. Their pedal-to-the-floor sprint to the double bar of the finale roused the crowd to an instantaneous standing ovation. Because the applause and cheers wouldn’t quit, Bronfman had little choice but to deliver an encore, Schumann’s Arabesque in C Major. It proved a lovely, intimate foil for the splashy pyrotechnics of the Rachmaninoff concerto. Bronfman is up to challenge When I was growing up in the 1960s and 1970s, and even into adulthood in the 1980s, Rachmaninoff was a no-no. No one denied that the man Stravinsky called the „6-and-a-half-foot-tall scowl” had been one of the greatest pianists of all time, and other Russian emigres often told terrific stories of seeing him on his concert tours earlier in the century. But Rachmaninoff, who died in his unhappy Beverly Hills exile just before his 70th birthday in 1943, as a composer? As far as the cognoscenti were concerned, he was little more than a purveyor of cornball movie music and gymnastic exercises for piano students. Today it is less a matter of the swinging pendulums that lead to such extreme views than of a widening of the ears to embrace great music of many styles and periods. There is no reason that audiences today cannot listen – and performers cannot play – Bach and Brahms, Schoenberg and Beethoven, even Boulez and „the walking scowl” himself. And since the early 1990s, I’ve found myself one of the many under the spell of Rachmaninoff’s shamelessly Romantic Piano Concerto No. 3, Op. 30, the so-called Rach 3. Since then, I’ve heard literally dozens of live performances by a varied array of soloists from great names to amateurs. And, yes, I’ve seen the film „Shine” (1996), which tries to claim that the fiendishly difficult, 45-minute work can even drive its players to madness. The performance that pianist Yefim Bronfman gave Thursday night with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra ranks with the very best of them. A greatly serious artist who has carried this music and its style with him from his childhood in the former Soviet Union (he was born in Tashkent) through his years in Israel and his studies in the United States, Bronfman at 50 does what he wants, and he does it astonishingly well. He also is serious about defying stereotypes. Classified as a „Russian pianist”, he only learned another staple, the Tchaikovsky B-Flat Minor Concerto, five years ago. Reviews too often speak of his „force” and „power”, yet he can play with an almost lace-like delicacy. So it was here as he traveled every scalar tangle and poignant mood shift as if he had only the most important things to tell his audience, and he would tell you in either a whisper or a shout as necessary. The audience was on its feet, cheering, at the work's end, and the players’ were shaking their heads in happy disbelief. An exquisitely spun Schumann C Major Arabesque followed the ovations as a rare concerto encore. Veteran Estonian conductor Neeme Järvi was Bronfman’s more than able accompanist leading the CSO. After intermission, Järvi produced a work rarer than the Rachmaninoff is familiar, the Fourth Symphony in C Minor, Op. 12, by Sergei Taneyev (1856–1915), who had been Tchaikovsky’s student and Rachmaninoff’s teacher. He was known more for his textbooks and his pupils than his compositions, and this highly sympathetic and technically assured performance showed you why. Symphonic composers need to hear their works, and shape and develop them over time. As a busy teacher who composed chiefly for the desk drawer, Taneyev didn’t have these opportunities. So what we heard often had the sound of 40 minutes of brilliant assignments – i.e., write in counterpoint beautifully, write a finale, write for every instrument playing at once and playing all the time – than a work of creative originality. Neeme Järvi Returns Taneyev to Chicago Behind the orchestra – on the terrace where the choristers sit – was the place to be for Thursday evening’s (Oct. 16) Chicago Symphony concert at Orchestra Hall. It was a fine place to relish guest artist Yefim Bronfman’s performance of Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concerto No. 3. And it afforded a welcome opportunity to observe the great Estonian conductor Neeme Järvi from the players’ perspective. Järvi, 71, has arguably the finest conducting technique in the world. He also commands a huge and ever-expanding repertoire. He brought both to Chicago with Sergei Taneyev’s Symphony No. 4 (1898). Not only was it a CSO premiere, but their first performance of music by the turn-of-the-century Russian since 1917, when they performed the overture to his opera “Oresteia”. Järvi has recorded both with the Philharmonia Orchestra (Chandos 1992). The Chicagoans clearly warmed to their task, perhaps finding it a welcome respite from the more familiar works that repeatedly pass over their desks. (A neighbor in the terrace seats remarked that he had rarely heard the CSO have so much fun.) Trained at the Leningrad Conservatory, where he was a pupil of Nikolai Rabinovitch and Yevgeny Mravinsky, Järvi exemplifies both precision and a rich conducting vocabulary, with gestures tailored closely to the music’s expressive content. He practices economy, however, giving the players just what they need without gratuitous display. It can be a mere hunching of the shoulders, sweeping motions of the baton or no baton at all. Cues are scrupulously delivered by pointing, jabbing, lifting the eyes or holding out a hand, and he can carve the same passage in numerous ways for varying interpretive effects. Taneyev’s Fourth Symphony begs for this, since it is loaded with musical material. A student of Tchaikovsky and teacher of Rachmaninoff and Scriabin, Taneyev was called the “Russian Bach” and the “Russian Brahms” for his consummate mastery of counterpoint. Much admired as a pianist and composer, he was also generous and well-liked. He died relatively young at 58, having written a huge treatise on counterpoint. He was a cosmopolitan like Tchaikovsky rather than one of the Russian nationalists, and he championed and premiered all of his teacher’s piano concertos. Taneyev crafted a rich palette for his Symphony No. 4, beginning in the first movement (Allegro Molto) with a dramatic, three-note introductory motif that returns in various guises throughout the work. The movement’s other thematic materials include a lilting, Tchaikovskian melody and a somewhat catchy, cadential brass statement. The second movement (Adagio), shaped lovingly by Järvi, had a pastoral quality. The effect was of gleaming, intertwining ribbons, with achingly beautiful clarinet and horn solos and a lone violin signing off sublimely at the end. Järvi handled the tricky rhythms of the Scherzo Vivace with ease, imparting lots of cheer from the merry oboe solo at the beginning to the impish, two-note plucked ending. The contrasting middle section breathed grace and feeling, with lush writing for the strings. The Allegro Energico finale ignited licks of snare drum and a lively staccato theme that interacted with virtually everything for a busy, vibrant texture. There was a big cutoff followed by the return of themes from earlier movements and a huge outpouring of brass. Järvi kept the rope taut through a majestic buildup that ended grandly with prolonged timpani rolls. Bronfman’s appearance marked a return engagement with Järvi and the Chicago Symphony, the two having made their joint CSO debut in 1985 in Rachmaninoff’s Second Piano Concerto. The “Rach 3” had an ideal interpreter in Bronfman who gave it a full measure of virtuosity and emotive power. Nothing seemed beyond his reach and even Järvi widened his eyes during his daunting solo exertions in the finale. The crowd, scattered throughout the 2,500-seat hall, demanded an encore, Arabesque in C Major by Schumann. Seen And Heard International Concert Review Rachmaninov and Taneyev: Yefim Bronfman (piano), Chicago Symphony Orchestra, Neeme Järvi (guest conductor), Symphony Center, Chicago 18.10.2008 (JLZ). The Chicago Symphony Orchestra’s recent concert of music by Rachmaninov and Taneyev was an exemplary effort. Consisting of two works, Sergei Rachmaninov’s Third Piano Concerto and Sergei Taneyev’s Fourth Symphony, the program played to the strengths of the ensemble. While Rachmaninov’s Third Piano Concerto is a familiar part of the repertoire, the other work, Taneyev’s Fourth Symphony is rarely heard, and even when performed it is not always rendered with the style and grace that the Neeme Järvi and the Chicago Symphony Orchestra gave it. The atmosphere was clearly charged, with intense musical involvement through both works in the program. The concert opened with Rachmaninov’s Third Piano Concert, a work composed in 1909 and given its premiere in October that years by the New York Philharmonic Orchestra led by Gustav Mahler, with the composer as soloist. As pointed out in the program notes, the fortunes of this work and other music by Rachmaninov have varied in the last century. If aspects of accessibility are a problem for appreciating the composer, as some have alleged, the fault is not in the performers. In a score that has a popular appeal and also demands virtuosic execution, the masterful rendering by Yefim Bronfman delivered all of the intensity that this work deserves. While the opening of the first movement was relatively reserved, Bronfman allowed the tension to build incrementally. He was precise without being pedantic, and when the score required virtuosity, he delivered the more complex passages as coolly as he would the less demanding ones. The interaction between the soloist and conductor seemed minimal at the outset, but by the cadenza that intersects the recapitulation, Bronfman and Järvi were clearly in deft communication. Bronfman demonstrated his full command of the score which allowed him to make the sometimes thickly voiced chords distinctive. His dynamic levels were varied, and in making the dynamic distinctions, he also supported the structure of the music. The logic of every phrase was emphasised as he brought the movement to its conclusion with both zeal and panache. Bronfman approached the first movement tirelessly, to deliver not only the content of the score, but at the same time allowing for greatly nuanced expressiveness. To the movement’s conclusion he gave all the power that some pianists reserve for the finale, something entirely appropriate to the style of the work. By doing this, Bronfman also set the stage for the drastically different character of the middle movement in which the strings of the Chicago Symphony gave a particularly warm reading. With its more reflective mood, the second movement was an opportunity for Rachmaninov to build a character piece, and the sense of ensemble that Järvi created fitted it exactly. Again, the internal logic of the musical structure was emphasised beautifully. To the Finale Bronfman’s virtuosity brought precision, without allowing for empty gesture or melodramatic showmanship. Järvi matched this with a mature interpretation that found its expression in pacing which kept the orchestra exactly together with the soloist’s ideas. Never once overly emphatic or archly expressive, Järvi shaped the orchestra and interacted with Bronfman’s intentions perfectly. As a result, the entire ensemble delivered a memorable and powerful reading of this familiar score, providing a precise yet moving performance which delighted the audience . Taneyev’s Fourth Symphony (1896-98) is something of a rarity in the United States, and the performances of the work this season are firsts for the Chicago Symphony. Nonetheless, with Järvi’s leadership, the performance on Saturday evening sounded polished and comfortable. Known best, perhaps, as the model that Rimsky-Korsakov suggested when he asked the young Igor Stravinsky to compose a symphony, Taneyev’s Fourth is regarded as its composer’s best effort in the genre. Taneyev uses a conventional four-movement structure for the Fourth Symphony, with the structural weight in the outside movements. The first movement is distinctive for the contrapuntal textures uses to develop the three-note theme that pervades its structure. The brass are prominent and are almost antiphonal with the strings in many sections. Such scoring allows the counterpoint to become aurally transparent as the theme is developed rhythmically and interactions between the opening theme and ideas built around it intersect. While the brass timbres sometimes dominated the performance, Järvi nonetheless maintained clarity through his clear direction and sensitivity to the hall’s acoustics. In the second movement, Taneyev offers a contrast with longer, more cantabile melodies, in which strings and woodwinds are prominent. The oboe particularly, has many demanding solo passages. The Scherzo that follows is a light textured movement differing from those of contemporaries like Bruckner and Mahler in its relatively playful character, resembling in fact the kinds of scherzos that Jean Sibelius would pursue in this own symphonies. The scherzo of the Taneyev Fourth also offers yet further contrast to the first movement, before he brings the work to its conclusion in the cyclic Finale. Here themes found earlier in the work, along with reminiscences of ideas that resemble music by Wagner may be heard. As the work resolves in the major mode, the fanfares that occur at the conclusion suggest, however remotely, the celebratory style of Wagner’s Die Meistersinger without necessarily making direct quotations from that work. All in all, Taneyev’s Fourth Symphony contains sufficient character to allow it to return to future programs of the Chicago Symphony and other orchestras. While the first half of the program was devoted to a familiar work the inclusion of the Taneyev created some excitement by giving the audience something new to and attractive hear. Such masterful programming is all the more laudable because it was a solution to the cancellation of Ricardo Chailly’s planned visit, which would have involved performances of Deryck Cooke’s performing score of Mahler’s Tenth Symphony and Bruckner’s Fifth Symphony. The Chicago Symphony found an excellent outlet for Järvi and Bronfman in the program of these two works by Russian composers. Rimsky-Korsakov, Tchaikovsky and Taneyev Vadim Gluzman; London Philharmonic Orchestra/Neeme Järvi. For me the highlight of this excellent concert was, without doubt, the London debut of violinist Vadim Gluzman. Judging by the audience’s response, I was not alone in being astonished by his extraordinary performance of the Tchaikovsky Violin Concerto. Although highly disciplined, Gluzman does not only perform but visibly lives every note – whether in the orchestral or solo passages – of the music. He knows all parts of the score and faithfully observes all compositional directions while, at the same time, delivering an organic performance: indeed, if one was not familiar with Tchaikovsky’s Violin Concerto, one could be forgiven for thinking that Gluzman created the music on the spot. From the technical point of view the solo violin part is extremely difficult. Many violinists cope admirably with these difficulties but I have never heard anybody lend such a range of discreet musical nuances (such as changes of tone colors, dynamics, tempo fluctuations) to these neck-breaking virtuoso passages as Gluzman does. In fact, a listener without any technical knowledge of violin playing might have deemed the piece technically easy after this performance. As for the slow middle movement: while Gluzman’s violin “sang” the oriental canzonetta, I could not help thinking that any singer wishing to perform an aria from a Russian opera should listen to this performance. Gluzman’s violin is of note, especially in connection with the Tchaikovsky Violin Concerto. It is the extraordinary 1690 “ex-Leopold Auer” Stradivarius violin, lent to Gluzman on a long loan by the Stradivari Society of Chicago. Leopold Auer was a Hungarian violinist who taught for some 50 years in Russia and was the founder of the so-called Russian violin tradition. His students included Jascha Heifetz, Misha Elman, Nathan Milstein, Efrem Zimbalist and many other great violinists. Originally Tchaikovsky dedicated his Violin Concerto to Auer but he deemed it too difficult, so the premiere was given by Adolf Brodsky, the new dedicatee. However, shortly before Tchaikovsky’s death Auer performed the concerto in public – presumably on the same violin on which Vadim Gluzman performs the concerto today! Gluzman’s performance was greatly supported by conductor Neeme Järvi. The two artists appeared to speak the same musical language – this kind of happy encounter cannot always be taken for granted between conductors and soloists! – which in turn created chamber music at its best between orchestra and soloist. In the four-movement Le Coq D’Or suite by Rimsky-Korsakov Järvi’s interpretation left no doubt about the magical story line. Järvi is in full control of the music as well as the orchestra whom he inspires for unusually sensitive, chamber-music like orchestral playing. It is rare to hear some thirty violinists to play so gently and beautifully as the LPO violins played their andantino theme in the first movement. Järvi’s dance rhythms are tight but fully alive, his long but varied structural lines take the orchestra and listeners alike on a journey of discovery. LPO/Järvi at Festival Hall In the course of Revealing Tchaikovsky, the London Philharmonic’s Vladimir Jurowski is sharing the baton with one or two selected maestros renowned for their own particular powers of illumination. One such is the Estonian veteran Neeme Järvi, who, aptly, was charged with the task of revealing Tchaikovsky as éminence grise, teacher and champion of younger composers. Neeme Järvi Conducts Rsno’s Fire And Ice The great name Neeme Järvi returns to the Caird Hall in Dundee next week for what is sure to be another memorable and explosive performance with the Royal Scottish National Orchestra. During his long and highly successful career, he has conducted many of the world’s most prominent orchestras. He has amassed a distinguished recording repertoire and many international accolades and awards have been bestowed upon him. Prokofiev’s mighty Fifth Symphony is his most popular; its big, driving melodies do not so much glorify the human spirit as sear right through it. Expect emotional and technical fireworks too in Sibelius’s Violin Concerto, one of the best-loved in the repertoire. The violinist for the concert is Israeli Vadim Gluzman, one of the most inspiring and dynamic artists on the musical scene. He has established himself as a performer of great depth, virtuosity and technical brilliance. Lauded by both critics and audiences, he has performed throughout the United States, Canada, Europe, Russia, Japan, Korea and Australia as a soloist and in a duo setting with his wife, pianist Angela Yoffe. He is guest of such orchestras as the symphony orchestras of Chicago, Cincinnati, Houston and Seattle; Bergen, Munich and Dresden Philharmonic, Residentie Orkest Den Haag, Deutsches Symphonie Orchester Berlin, Radio-Symphonie Orchestras Berlin and Stuttgart, the Munich Chamber Orchestra, Orchestre Philharmonique du Luxembourg and the Budapest Franz Liszt Chamber Orchestra. In January 2008 he gave his debut on the stage of the Musikeverein in Vienna with the first violin concerto of Shostakovich. The full programme for the evening features Sibelius’ The Oceanides and Violin Concerto, as well as Prokofiev’s Symphony No. 5. RSNO/Neeme Järvi Vadim Gluzman – Sibelius & Prokofiev Frequent separations followed by rapturous reunions are a maxim often quoted as the best recipe for a successful relationship. The Royal Scottish National Orchestra has made something of a speciality of reunions with its former Chief Conductors – I vividly recall the return of Barbirolli in the 60s reprising a programme given thirty years previously and Walter Susskind coming back to conduct Shostakovich Tenth to rapturous acclaim. Scottish audiences are fiercely loyal to those they have taken to their hearts and the Festival Theatre was virtually full for one of Neeme Järvi’s comparatively infrequent visits (although he continues to record regularly with the Orchestra for Chandos). This was undoubtedly a special occasion. Unusually amongst Sibelius’s tone poems, The Oceanides draws its inspiration not from the Kalevala but from Homer, Oceanides being the nymphs who inhabited the streams, rivers and waters of classical antiquity. Commissioned by the Norfolk Festival in Connecticut, it received its first performance there under the composer on the eve of the First World War (4 June 1914). It opens calmly, flutes glinting over the oceanic swell, gradually rising to a single overwhelming climax – superbly built and unleashed under Järvi's sure but undemonstrative hand – before ebbing away with an epilogue from the oboe, eloquently and memorably realised by Emmanuel Laville. The soloist in Sibelius’s Violin Concerto was the Israeli-Ukrainian Vadim Gluzman, who plays a Stradivarius that once belonged to Leopold Auer, and is the recipient of the Henryk Szeryng Career Award. (Szeryng had strong links with Scotland, playing Sibelius’s Concerto regularly and unforgettably with the Scottish National under Sir Alexander Gibson.) If Gluzman lacks Szeryng’s finesse, he shares his emotional generosity. This was big-toned, communicative playing, occasionally variable in intonation, Sibelius viewed very much in the lineage of Tchaikovsky. Especially effective was the slow movement, richly voiced but not too slow and therefore better able to accommodate its urgent central climax. At several moments – notably the subtle violas at the movement’s close – Järvi’s mastery of detail in the accompaniment was transparently obvious. The finale – once described as a Polonaise for Polar Bears – was distinctly frisky, a far cry from the lumbering treatment it sometimes receives. The evening’s highpoint was the Prokofiev symphony. Järvi and the RSNO have recorded all of Prokofiev’s symphonies for Chandos (recently repackaged) and it is worth remembering that one of Gibson’s earliest recordings (for the long-defunct Waverley label) was of the Fifth and that under Alexander Lazarev (the RSNO’s previous Music Director) there were also fine performances of this composer’s music. Järvi’s way with the symphony is fluid and forward-moving, and less bleak than some other interpreters can be. Time and again one noticed particular details – the care with which the lead-in to the scherzo’s graceful central section was prepared (with wonderfully “present” violas) or in the join to the slow movement's minatory trumpet solo – and the sheer character of the playing, tangy winds in the moderately paced finale, its sly wit emerging without recourse to high-pressure tactics. Given such certainty of direction and self-evident relish in the playing, the symphony emerged with a degree of coherence its sometimes fails to achieve in performances which treat the work as a sonic spectacular. RSNO, Glasgow Royal Concert Hall Star rating: **** Several decades may have passed since Neeme Järvi’s tenure with the SNO but the Järvi magic persists, clearly visible on his occasional appearances with the orchestra. It was clear not just from the audience – more sizeable than a programme of Sibelius and Prokofiev would otherwise attract – but also the performance. Järvi’s gestures may be rather austere, even mechanistic, but the RSNO’s playing was inspired: warm, and filled with intensity tempered by fine-edged control. This is Järvi’s RSNO sound; perhaps it is the rationing of his visits that keeps the relationship fresh. This was a concert with a slow build up. Sibelius’s tone poem The Oceanaides, all quietly swirling eddies and currents that gradually increase to the final storm, was followed by a rather conventional account of the composer’s Violin Concerto from Vadim Gluzman. Gluzman is a player in the big-toned, Russian mould and as such his reading of the concerto was satisfying in an old-fashioned, rock-solid kind of way. For once the finale was taken at a tempo that felt sprightly and genuinely dancelike rather than laboured. The core of the performance was, of course, Prokofiev’s Fifth Symphony. Where some concentrate on the acerbic qualities of this work, Järvi gave the case for its latent romanticism. This was a far more luxuriant account of the symphony than that recently given by Gergiev and the LSO in Edinburgh, in which even the humour of the scherzo was gently biting rather than mocking. Those who look for the darker elements in this symphony would have been disappointed, but as a resolutely upbeat account of the Fifth, it was delivered with an infectious enthusiasm. Orchestra is right at home in the big tent Royal Scottish National Orchestra ***** IT’S hard to imagine that any orchestra might possibly enjoy playing in the Festival Theatre’s big tent. The RSNO made light of its acoustical disadvantages. Composing tone poems enabled Sibelius to explore the treasure trove of Finnish legend and myth that had fairly recently been collected in the epic poem Kalevala when he was a young man. Although the relatively unfamiliar Oceanides is exceptional in that it looks back to Greek mythology, and despite commentators’ references to hints of impressionism in the early bars of the score, its atmosphere is unmistakably Nordic. From the opening woodwind solos to the great swell of Arctic rather than Mediterranean waves, this was a brilliantly conceived interpretation. Violinist Vadim Gluzman and conductor Neeme Järvi produced a glittering performance. Even the work’s distracters have to admit that the sheer energy of the Finale is irresistible. It has been likened to a polonaise for polar bears. Prokofiev spent nearly two decades as a vagrant composer in the USA and Europe. It is difficult to imagine why he decided to return to the hazards of Stalinist rule, but he was still in fine fettle when his fifth symphony appeared in 1944. Järvi drew some incisive playing from his string section. Twenty years ago, when he was Music Director, his exuberance on the rostrum was at times obtrusive. Nowadays he conducts more effectively and with much quieter authority. Music Review: RSNO/Neeme Järvi RSNO / NEEME JÄRVI **** TWO very different works by Sibelius stood side by side in the opening half of Saturday night’s concert. The Oceanides, an unassuming tone poem, tiptoed its way into audibility as conductor Neeme Järvi motioned towards the already pianissimo muted strings to play softer still. Such meticulous exploration of dynamics remained a feature of the short work as each undulating phrase swelled and diminished to such a precise degree under Järvi’s hand that the music itself, rather than the dizziness of the expression markings, slowly came to be appreciated. In contrast, the composer’s Violin Concerto required nothing short of virtuosic technique and forthright musicianship. Violinist Vadim Gluzman leaped feet first into his role, recognising the power in Sibelius’s writing with bold strokes of his bow, yet maintaining a mesmerising elasticity in his playing that favoured the lyrical features of the music. Gluzman’s rich, gravelly tone suited the symphonic opening movement and lent a sense of sweet torment to the second movement's cantabile theme. Only here and there, in the very delicate passages, did it seem that a less aggressive approach might have served the music better. If powerful articulation and expansive melodies were to be the order of the evening, Prokofiev’s Symphony No. 5 could not have served the programme better. This time it was the orchestra’s turn to show that they, too, had huge reserves of expressive power, and under Järvi’s careful management the full force of the music’s light and shade was once again felt. „Joonase lähetamisest” saab vabariigi 90. sünnipäeva pidustuste kulminatsioon Läbi aasta väldanud Eesti Vabariigi 90. sünnipäeva pidustused saavad võimsa kulminatsiooni Rudolf Tobiase oratooriumiga „Joonase lähetamine”. Seda, viimati 1999. aastal Eesti publiku ees tervikuna kõlanud oratooriumi on Neeme Järvi nimetanud maailmatasemel teoseks. Ka seekordset ettekannet kuuleb maestro juhatamisel. Oratoorumi on restaureerinud ja täiendanud Vardo Rumessen, teatas Eesti Kontsert. Teose esitajakoosseis on muljetavaldav. Laval on 5 solisti, 100-liikmeline orkester ja 150 lauljat. Solistidena astuvad publiku ette sopran Marina Lapina Venemaalt, metsosopran Merle Silmato, tenor Juhan Tralla, bariton Rauno Elp, bass Johann Tilli Soomest ja orelil Piret Aidulo. Orkestriks on Eesti Riiklik Sümfooniaorkester, oratooriumikoori koosseisus kuuleb Eesti Rahvusmeeskoori ja selle projekti jaoks spetsiaalselt kokku pandud naiskoori, lisaks osalevad ettekandel kammerkoor Voces Musicales ning Rahvusooper Estonia Poistekoor. Peakoormeistri töö on teinud Risto Joost. Oratooriumiprojekti raames antakse välja ka teose partituur ja klaviir, mis on ilmunud kirjastuste „Estonian Classics” ja „Gehrmans Musikförlag” ühisväljaandel. Partituuri on redigeerinud, täiendanud ja lõpetanud ning klaviiri koostanud Vardo Rumessen. Lisaks jäädvustatakse 21. novembri kontsert Tallinnas DVD plaadile, mille salvestus toimub koostöös Arts Video Productions, Ltd ja Eesti Rahvusringhäälinguga. Projekti kogueelarve ulatub kuni 2,4 miljoni kroonini. Oratoorium tuleb ettekandele 21. novembril Tallinnas ja 22. novembril Tartus. Dirigent Neeme Järvi: „Joonase lähetamine” ei mahu isegi lennukisse „„Joonase lähetamine” on sedavõrd suur teos, et ei mahu isegi lennukisse,” meenutas maestro Neeme Järvi, kuidas ta püüdis oratooriumi hiigelsuure partituuriga Austraalias lennukisse ronida. Lõpuks pidi ta selle pagasisse ära andma, sest ajaleheformaadis noodiraamatuga dirigenti lennuki salongi ei lubatud. Eesti Kontserdi turundusjuhi Merle Ljubimova sõnul valmis partituur just seoses Rudolf Tobiase oratooriumi „Joonase lähetamine” ettekannetega täna Tallinnas ja homme Tartus. See on ühtlasti võimas lõppakord aasta otsa väldanud Eesti Vabariigi 90. sünnipäeva pidustustele. Merle Ljubimova nimetab „Joonase lähetamist” suurejooneliseks teoseks igas mõttes: isegi oratooriumiprojekti raames kirjastuste „Estonian Classics” ja „Gehrmans Musikförlag” ühisväljaandena ilmuv partituur on ajaleheformaadis 600-leheküljeline teos. Kokkulepitud üleandmispäeva eelõhtul avastati trükikojas, et nii mahuka teose köitmiseks trükimasinatel mõistust ega võimsust ei jätkugi – tuli õhtul inimesed uuesti tööle kutsuda ja partituur köideti öösel käsitsi. Ka teose esitajate koosseis on muljetavaldav: viie solisti taga on laval 100-liikmeline orkester ja 160 lauljat ning oratooriumi ettekandmiseks tuli Estonia Kontserdisaali lava kolm korda suuremaks ehitada. Tobiase oratooriumi „Joonase lähetamine” üks keskseid stseene on „Kohtukuulutus”, milles Joonas kuulutab ette assüürlaste suure ja võimsa impeeriumi pealinna Niinive hävingut, kui selle elanikud meelt ei paranda ning kurjusest ja vägivallast ei loobu. Oratooriumi restaureerinud ja täiendanud Vardo Rumesseni sõnul ongi „Joonase lähetamise” sõnum, et me saame andestada vaid neile, kes kahetsevad tehtud kurjust ja kuritegusid. Prohvet Joonase sõnum on Rumesseni väitel aktuaalne tänapäevalgi, sest ka üks meie naaberriik pole paljusid oma vigu ja kuritegusid siiani tunnistanud. Viimati 1999. aastal Eesti publiku ees tervikuna kõlanud oratooriumi juhatab selgi korral Neeme Järvi. Orkestriks on Eesti Riiklik Sümfooniaorkester. Oratooriumikoori koosseisus kõlavad Eesti Rahvusmeeskoor ja spetsi-aalselt selle projekti puhuks kokku pandud naiskoor. Veel osalevad ettekandes kammerkoor Voces Musicales ja Rahvusooperi Estonia poistekoor. Peakoormeistri töö on teinud Risto Joost. Projekti kogueelarve on 2,4 miljonit Eesti krooni. INTERVJUU: Neeme Järvi: täna mu süda naerab Maestro Neeme Järvi vahetas „Joonase lähetamise” proovis Venemaalt solistiks palutud soprani Marina Lapina Estonia solisti Pille Lille vastu. Miks te sellise vahetuse tegite? Ma olen Pille Lillele väga tänulik, et ta sai laulma tulla. Pille on sedasama teost 13 aastat tagasi minuga plaadistanud. Ta on väga musikaalne inimene ja suutis ühe ööga selle endale uuesti selgeks teha! Täna (eile–toim.) tuli ta proovi ja laulis oma osa suurepäraselt! Lapina ärasaatmisest hakatakse nüüd ehk poliitilist tagamaad otsima. Teie teene on ka see, et New Yorgi produtsent Jason Starr teeb „Joonase lähetamisest” DVD. Minu eesmärk on ikka ja alati üks – Eestit maailmale näidata. Teos on väärt, et seda ette kanda ja DVD-le salvestada. Mul on väga hea meel, et Starr sellega nõustus. See pole ju teie esimene ühisprojekt Jason Starriga? Tegemist on raske teosega. Selle teose ettekandmiseks loodi ju lausa uus koor? Kui palju võtab sellise suurteose ettevalmistamine aega? Teine kolossaalne kuju on Aivar Mäe. Ta on teoinimene ja võttis selle projekti oma südameasjaks – vabariigi 90. aastapäeva on ju vaja tähistada. Nagu nüüd välja tuleb, on see kõige tähtsam kultuuri suursündmus. Ausammas paraku valmis ei saanud, midagi erilist ja suurejoonelist ei saadud tehtud! Kultuurilt tõmmatakse ka järgmisel aastal suuri summasid maha – korraga tuleb nii palju negatiivseid uudiseid. Aga meie teeme heade tegijatega ikkagi suurt muusikat ega jäta pooleli. Eesti on väärt, et seda teost maailmale näidata, sest see on maailma, mitte ainult Eesti kultuuri osa. Kuidas korraldati proovid? Teie saabusite ju alles kolmapäeval. Millise tundega lähete täna õhtul dirigendipulti? Aasta tagasi teiega intervjuud tehes rääkisime Mahleri 8. ehk „Tuhandete sümfooniast”. Et selle võiks ette kanda Eestis juubelilaulupeo raames. Toona tõid nii kultuuriminister kui ka mitmed dirigendid mulle terve hulga vastuväiteid, miks seda pole võimalik teha. Ja nüüd, esmaspäeval, tuli see Riias Läti Vabariigi 90. aastapäeva raames ettekandele. Esitasid selle 1000 lauljat ja ligi 300 orkestranti. Kas teil pole kahju? Ometi, ehk võiks Mahleri 8. sümfoonia siiski Tallinna kultuuripealinna raames ära teha? Kas unistate endiselt uuest ooperimajast? Olete sellel hooajal juhtinud tõeliselt kuulsaid maailma tipporkestreid: Londoni ja Chicago filharmoonikud, Concertgebouw orkester. Loomulikult kuulub teie kontserdihooaega veel New Jersey, nüüd aasta lõpus veel Haagi filharmoonikud. Kuidas te jõuate? Suurteos „Joonase lähetamine”: kaalukas ja efektne Oma isikupärase stiili — muusikalise läbimõelduse pluss väljendusjulguse — poolest kuulub „Joonase lähetamine” kogu maailma muusikalukku. Viimati sai Eestis teost tervikuna kuulda 1999. aastal Arvo Volmeri juhatusel, praegu aga ohjas hiigelkoosmängu maestro Neeme Järvi. Kontsert oli mõeldud Eesti Vabariigi 90. sünnipäeva tähistamiseks ja sobis selleks nagu valatult. On ju oratooriumi 19. number, võimsakõlaline „Sanctus” üks esimesi heliteoseid, mida esitati – Tobiase enda juhatusel – sealsamas Estonia kontserdisaalis 1913. aastal, teatrimaja avamispidustustel. Seda piksekärgatusena mõjuvat numbrit on tervikteosest ka kõige rohkem esitatud ja käesolevalgi kontserdil kõlas see veel pärast kolmetunnist ettekannet heameelest möirgavale publikule lisaloona. Lugu ise on tuttav. Vana testamendi prohvet Joonas saab käsu minna kuulutama meeleparandust suurde patupessa Niinivesse (loe: Moskvasse), tollase Assüüria impeeriumi pealinna. Prohvet tõrgub, kuna usub Jumala ülimasse headusesse, ent Joona laevaga põgenedes tõuseb hirmus torm. Joonas heidetakse üle parda merre, kus Jumala saadetud valaskala ta alla kugistab. Pääsenud bestia kõhust, soostub prohvet viimaks endale pandud ülesannet täitma, Niinive pöördubki õigele teele ja saab päästetud. Soliidne esitus Oratooriumis esineb küllaga tabavaid kujundeid ja juhtmotiive: judinaid tekitav „Torm”, prohveti meelekindel hääl selle müra vaigistamas ja raju raugemisel tüüne merelainetus peaaegu et silme ette kangastumas; enigmaatiline „Joonase märk” jpm. Rohkelt leidub dünaamilisi kontraste ja huvitavat orkestreeringut, mis lisaks grandioossusele väljendub lugematutes detailides, nagu oreli vaevu aimatavalt faktuuri loov koosmäng timpanite, kõrges registris kooripartii ja viiulitekstuuriga numbris 36. Ja muidugi tuleb kiita soliidset esitust, mis lisaks oli efektne – õhuline chorus mysticus näiteks kõlas rõdult ja koorile tunnimehena vastav trompetikoor hoopis kusagilt kontserdimaja sügavustest. Sõnaga, „Joonase lähetamist” ei saa kuidagi pidada mingiks raskepäraseks vaimunärimiseks. „Joonase lähetamine” kui sümbol Rudolf Tobiase oratooriumi „Joonase lähetamine” ettekanne paar päeva tagasi oli ehk üks tähendusrikkamaid Eesti riigi 90. sünnipäevale pühendatud sündmusi. Geeniusi sünnib harva, Eesti-suuruses riigis üliharva. 1873. aastal Hiiumaal ilmavalgust näinud Rudolf Tobiasel oleks olnud eeldusi geniaalsuseni küündida. Tema palavikuline, ülevoolav andekus ei saanud keeruliste elutingimuste tõttu vormuda rohkearvulisteks teosteks, kuid see, mis ta on järele jätnud, on tähenduslik. Kui „Joonase lähetamine” pärast mitmeaastast tööd valmis, oli Tobias juba siirdunud Saksamaale avaramaid tegutsemisvõimalusi otsima. Tema võimekus leidis seal ka hindamist, 1912. aastal kutsus tollane Berliini kuningliku muusikaülikooli rektor Hermann Kretzschmar ta pärast „Joonase” partituuriga tutvumist sinna õppejõuks. „Joonase lähetamine” on oma ajastule omaselt suurejooneline teos. Siin on tavalisest suurem orkester, kolm koori ja viis solisti. Teose tekst on kokku pandud prohvet Joona raamatust, psalmidest ja mitmetest piiblikohtadest. „Joonast” kuulates ja teksti jälgides tekib imetlus, kui erakordselt hästi on see hiiglaslik teos vormiliseks tervikuks saanud. Sümbolite ja juhtmotiivide võrgustik ei lase muusikalisel materjalil killustuda. Teose koorinumbrid toetuvad kõige sügavamalt Bachi ja Händeli traditsioonidele. Midagi erilist on ka sellest teosest hoovav pühadust tundev, aukartlik religioossus. „Joonases” on hingeliigutavalt imelisi kohti, nagu teise pildi Jumalast hüljatuse öö, suur koorifuuga esimese osa lõpul ning lõpuks teose kuulsaim osa – „Sanctus”. „Sanctus” pole sugugi vähem hümn kui ametlik Eesti hümn, kõlades ülimalt tähendusrikkana juba 1989. aastal, mil see 1909. aastal valminud teos esimest korda tervikuna ette kanti. „Joonase lähetamine” jõudis kuulajateni tänu Vardo Rumessenile. Tema n-ö avastas selle teose, kogus kokku käsikirja, redigeeris ja täiendas puuduvat ning korraldas esituse, veenis ja vaimustas. Niisama tähenduslik nagu teos, oli ka selle ettekanne. Neeme Järvi on „Joonase lähetamist” korduvalt juhatanud, muu hulgas 1995. aastal Rootsis ja Soomes, 1998. aastal Austraalias Melbourne’is, 1999. ja 2000. aastal Saksamaal ning 2003. aastal Venemaal Peterburis. Loomulikkus ja vabadus, millega teos tema käe all kulgeb, vajub sügavustesse ja tõuseb kõrgustesse, on muljetavaldav. Ligi kolme tunni pikkune suurvorm mõjub kui üks sügav hingetõmme. Solistide Pille Lille, Merle Silmato, Juhan Tralla, Rauno Elbi ja Johann Tilli kõrval olid ettekande suurimateks tähtedeks koorid. Kuigi Eestis pole vokaalsümfooniliste teoste ettekandmiseks enam suurt segakoori, oli RAMist ja naishäältest kokku pandud väga hea tasemega oratooriumikoor. Ingellikult ja kaunilt mõjusid Estonia poistekoori hääled ning chorus mysticus Voces Musicales. Kontsert „Joonase lähetamine”! Kellele ja kuhu? Pille Lill päästis „Joonase lähetamise” esituse Rudolf Tobiase oratooriumi „Joonase lähetamine” viies täismõõduline ettekanne Eestis sai teoks 21. novembril Estonia kontserdisaalis ja ettekandjateks olid Eesti Riiklik Sümfooniaorkester, Oratooriumikoor (RAM + naiskoor), kammerkoor Voces Musicales, Rahvusooper Estonia Poistekoor, solistid Pille Lill (sopran), Merle Silmato (alt), Juhan Tralla (tenor), Rauno Elp (bass-bariton) ja Johann Tilli (bass, Soome). Estonia poistekoori koormeister oli Hirvo Surva, peakoormeister Risto Joost, kooride kontsertmeister Siim Selis, orelil Piret Aidulo, dirigent Neeme Järvi. Teos on nii sisult kui vormilt filosoofilisreligioosne, põhineb vana ja uue testamendi tekstidel ja oratoriaalse žanri vormil. On oluline teada, et see helitöö on omas žanris eesti muusikaloos esimene (esiettekanne 99 aastat tagasi Leipzigis), ilmtingimata on sellel ka rahvuslik tähtsus ja mitte ainult muusikaloos, vaid ka kandva ja ajatu allteksti tõttu. Kui teosel on rahvuslik tagaplaan, siis on see ka poliitiline ning seepärast sobib oratoorium hästi ettekandmiseks Eesti Vabariigi 90. aastapäeva tähistamisel. Sellele sündmusele oligi kontsert pühendatud. Nagu öeldud, on teos omas žanris eesti muusikas esimene, ja kui lisada sellele Artur Kapi oratoorium „Hiiob”, siis ongi kogu senise eesti muusika kaks nurgakivi paigas (Ivalo Randalu väljend). Vahe on selles, et kui „Hiiobi” (1929) esitust kuuldi juba 1931. aastal, siis „Joonas” tuli esiettekandele Eestis 80 aastat pärast selle esiettekannet Saksamaal, s.t. 25. mail 1989. aastal Estonia kontserdisaalis dirigent Peeter Lilje juhatusel. Teatavasti saatis ebaõnnestunud ettekanne Leipzigis oratooriumi unustusehõlma ja tänapäevaste ettekannete eest oleme tänu võlgu Vardo Rumessenile kui selle suurteose reanimeerijale ning väsimatule propageerijale. Nüüdse ettekande kavalehel on Rumessen märgitud kui teose restaureerija ja täiendaja, kuid see on arvatavasti siiski muusikalooline täpsustus. Sest muidu ma küsiks, miks iga Mozarti Reekviemi ettekandel ei ole kirjas Franz Süssmayri nimi. Kui ütlete, et kahe sajandi jooksul on Süssmayr juba kõigile pähe kulunud, siis ma väidan küll, et pigem siin meil ja täna on Rumessen peas kõigil. Arvan ikka, et jätame Reekviemi Mozartile ja „Joonase” Tobiasele ning vastutuse, et Rumessen sellest ei solvu, võtan enda peale. Kuid kellele on lähetatud „Joonas”? Kui aastal 1989 küsiti lihtkirjal saaja aadressi osas kõigepealt „kuda” ja siis „komu”, siis vastus oli lihtne: okupeeritud riiki nimega Eesti ja kogu tema rahvale. Tänapäev on need küsimused ümber pööranud, s.t kõigepealt „kellele” ja siis „kuhu”, ning teisele küsimusele on lihtne ja selge vastus – maailma. Jääb arutleda küsimuse üle „kellele”. Eestis on aadressaate palju. 1934. aasta rahvaloendus andis meile 874 000 luterlast. 2000. aastal fikseeriti meie sekulaarses riigis loendatud inimestest 13,57% luterlasi, 12,79% õigeusklikke, baptiste 0,54%, katoliiklasi 0,51%, moslemeid 0,12% ja maausulisi 0,09%. Kuid olulisemad näitajad tulevad siit: 7,99% keeldus vastamast, 14,5% ei osanud vastata, 34% (!) olid ükskõiksed ja 6,1% veendunud ateistid. Need arvud panevad mõtlema, et filosoofiline ja rahvuslik küll, aga kellele me lähetame oratooriumi kristliku sõnumi? Tõsi on see, et eespool ära toodud uskude paljusus on asi, mis ei ole nii ainult Eestis, vaid on palju globaalsem nähtus. Siis jäävadki üle eelkõige filosoofiline ja poliitiline sõnum, sest teksti süvenejad leiavad kindlasti seose Niinive ja Moskva vahel ning seda mitte ainult meie õue elanikud, vaid ka laia maailma kodanikud. Meil siin on siiski veel üks grupp elanikke, ma ei tea, kui suur protsent, kes ei kuulu ilmselt ühtegi konfessiooni, kuid vajavad eneselegi aru andmata hardust ja selle vajaduse saavad nad kindlasti mõnevõrra rahuldatud iga „Joonase” ettekandega. Ning küllap on neid harduse otsijaid üsna mitmeid protsente meie elanikkonnast, sest kõik teose ettekanded Eestis on läinud täissaalidele. Erandiks ei olnud ka viimased: nii Tallinnas kui Tartus (22. XI) olid saalid välja müüdud vähemalt kuu aega enne kontserti, mis eesti muusika esituse puhul ei ole igapäevaselt igav nähtus. Probleemidest ka Ei ole paha ka maestro Neeme Järvi rituaalne plaan, et iga üldlaulupidu algaks Rudolf Tobiase oratooriumi „Joonase lähetamine” kontsertettekandega meie suurimas ja parimas pealinna kontserdisaalis, mis oleks võimalus nii eesti kui rahvusvahelisele kuulajaskonnale nautida seni veel koduski, mis me räägime maailmas, mitte liiga tuntud teost. Aga et see suurvorm võiks ja peaks olema kõigile eesti muusika viisiitkalju (kaart ei vasta suurusjärgule), seda tõendavad maailma muusikakriitikute arvamused, millest tsiteeriks vaid ühte: „Kui see teos oleks leidnud väärilise ettekande ajal, mil ta loodi, oleks XX sajandi muusikaajalugu kulgenud oluliselt teist teed pidi” (Jossif Raiski, 11. V 2003, Peterburi). Teine probleem seoses teose esitusega on meil esitusaparaadi suurus ca 300–350 artisti ja nende võimekus, sest tegemist on väga kõrgeid nõudmisi esitava partituuriga, kus mütsiga lööjad kukuvad kohe välja. See ei puuduta ainult soliste, vaid kõiki kollektiive eraldi ja koos ning eelkõige dirigenti. Dirigentidega meil probleeme ei ole, kuid kaks segakoori nõuavad iga kord komplekteerimist ja chorus mysticus’ega on elu näidanud, et iga kammerkoor ei saa sellega tasemel hakkama. Ühesõnaga, valik tuleb teha karm ja see teatavasti maksab raha ning raha ei ole ju kunagi, kuni keegi rahastajatest ei mõista teose olulisust eesti rahvale ja ka kogu maailmale, kus, muide, „Joonase” ettekandeid on olnud tunduvalt rohkem kui Eestis. Viimane, äärmiselt tõsine probleem oli kuni viimase, s.t möödunud ettekandeni partituuri ning noodimaterjalide olemasolu ja nende laenutusvõimalused. Siia tuleb nüüd tõmmata peale rasvane rist ning öelda: probleemi pole. Ilmus suurepärane partituur koos orkestrihäältega (Estonian Classics) ja see on ülitähtis samm edasi „Joonase” lähetamisel aadressil – maailm. Kui te küsite, kes selle partituuri ja hääled välja andis, siis ma ei häbene öelda, et teile juba päris hästi tuntud Vardo Rumessen ja üks eksemplar partituurist lähetus aadressil: kellele – Princeps sui iunis civitatis Vaticanae, Servus Servorum Dei Benedictus XVI, kuhu – Vatikan. Vaatamata nimetatud probleemidele ja raha puudumisele, esitused siiski toimuvad ja omandavad kindlasti traditsioone, millele tulevikus annab toetuda. Ning tooniandja on siin Neeme Järvi, kuigi rajaleidjana tuleb ikkagi nimetada esiettekandjat Peeter Liljed. Teose ligi paarikümne esituse hulgas räägitakse kui etalonist ja õnnestunumast Kölni esitusest (14., 15. IV 2000) ja (1. IX 1995) Stockholmis toimunust, selle kõrvale seatakse veel Peterburi (11. V 2003) ja Tallinn (25. VI 1995). Minul on neist neljast õnnestunud kuulata Peterburi kontserti ja seda on mul võimalik nüüdse Tallinna ettekandega võrrelda. Kõigepealt koosseisudest. Peterburis oli Filharmoonia akadeemiline, nn esimene koosseis, s.t Juri Temirkanovi orkester ja kooriks RAM + rahvusooperi Estonia naised, Latvija segakoor ja Peterburi raadio lastekoor. Seni kannatab Tallinna koosseis mõõduvõtmise absoluutselt välja ja kooride osas isegi ületab, sest meie tänane oratooriumikoor (RAM + konkursiga moodustatud naiskoor) on parim koosseis, mida olen siin kuulnud pärast Eesti Raadio Segakoori laialisaatmist. Voces Musicales oli stabiilsem ja täpsem kui Latvija ning poistest ei maksa rääkidagi – need tunduvad meil päris profid olema. Kui näidata veel erilisi õnnestumisi, siis loen nendeks kõigepealt nr 16 Fuuga (oratooriumikoor), nr 34 chorus mysticus ning kohe selle järel poistelt koos kahe flöödi ja inglissarvega nr 35 Koraal. Viimane oli Peterburis number,&n bsp; mis raske töö ja vaevaga ots otsaga kokku tuli. Nauditav oli veel nr 17 „Kättemaksupsalm”, kus kvaliteetses dialoogis vestlesid aldid poistega. Sanctus’t ei pea nimetamagi, sest see tuleb ju alati kordamisele, nii seekordki. Vaatamata tohutule esitusaparaadile (vaat et 1/3 saali) ei läinud ükski tutti, kaasa arvatud Sanctus lõhki ja ka kõige kirglikumad forte’d kõlasid mahlakalt ja massiivselt ning see asjaolu sõltub küll absoluutselt Neeme Järvi oskustest ja neid koos kogemustega tal jätkub. Kolmapäevase proovi lõpus resümeeris maestro Järvi asjade seisu järgmiselt: „Koorid on hästi ette valmistatud, orkester samuti, solistidega on probleeme...” ja jättis ütlemata, et Moskva Suure teatri solist Marina Lapina (sopran) ei valda partiid ning saadetakse seepärast pärast proovi koju tagasi. Põhjusi võis olla palju, kuid tõenäolisim on lihtne teose alahindamine ja sellest üleolekust tulenenud ehmatus, kui solist avas klaviiri alles proovis. See on oletus, kuid fakt jääb faktiks, et oma osaga hakkama ei saadud. Olukord oli katastrofaalne, sest ma ei ole veel sõnagagi maininud asjaolu, et kogu esitus salvestati DVD-le ja selleks oli USAst kohale sõitnud režissöör Jason Starr ning et neljapäeval jätkus ka salvestus. Kogu selle esituse (kaks kontserti) ja salvestuse päästis meie sopran Pille Lill, kes tuletas ühe ööga meelde ulatusliku ja komplitseeritud soprani partii, mida ta viimati oli tervikuna esitanud 1999. aastal, ja oli järgmisel päeval valmis tööd alustama. Kangelastegusid sünnib ka kontserdilaval. Nii sellest kui mõnest muustki asjaolust tingituna saab nentida, et solistid olid vaprad ja tegid kõik nendest oleneva, kuid suureks õnnestumiseks seda esitust lugeda ei saa. Eks kosmeetilisi iluvigu kostis veel nii siit kui sealtki, kuid aplausi ja spontaanselt püsti tõusnud ning huilgeid ja möirgeid kuulda lasknud publiku järgi, tuleb 21. XI 2008 Tallinnas esitatud Rudolf Tobiase oratoorium „Joonase lähetamine” lugeda kordaläinuks. Enne kontserti tutvustati kontserdisaali fuajees trükisooje „Joonase” partituuri, klaviiri ja Vardo Rumesseni raamatut „Joonase sõnum”, esitlejateks Eesti Kontserdi direktor Aivar Mäe ja Vardo Rumessen. Kontserdi juhatas sisse päevakohase sõnavõtuga kultuuriminister Laine Jänes. Wuchtige Choräle und zarte Poesie im Wechsel Ein Abend der Gegensätze beim 3. Pro arte-Konzert: am Pult der 71-jährige Jeeme Järvi, Nestor der estnischen Dirigenten-Dynastie, als Klaviersolist der russische Senkrechtstarter Nikolai Lugansky, vor der Pause Ludwig van Beethovens populäres G-Dur-Klavierkonzert Nr. 4, nach der Pause Anton Bruckners eher selten zu hörende Sinfonie Nr. 5 B-Dur. Dazu auf dem Podium das Residentie Orkest Den Haag, stets im Schatten des glanzvollen Concertgebouw Amsterdam, in Mannheim aber wohlgelitten und nun schon zum dritten Mal bei Pro arte zu Gast. Keine Frage, dass Lugansky über das pianistische Rüstzeug für das lyrischste der fünf Beethoven-Konzerte verfügt. Und doch blieb, vor allem im Andante con moto, ein leises Defizit an Melancholie, Magie, Poesie. Dies alles war dann in reichem Maße in der Zugabe vorhanden, im tief empfundenen Intermezzo aus Robert Schumanns “Faschingsschwank aus Wien”. Neeme Järvi ist seit 2005 Chefdirigent des Residentie Orkest. Das spürt man. Gestützt auf fraglos intensive Probenarbeit, leitet Järvi sein Orchester mit sparsamster Gestik, die dem Publikum meist verborgen bleibt. So souverän, wie er das Klavierkonzert begleitet hatte, zelebrierte er sodann Bruckners vielleicht kühnste, an Beinamen reichste Sinfonie (Katholische, Phantastische, Choral – oder – Glaubens-Sinfonie). Unter all den sinfonischen Sakralbauten des Meisters ist die B-Dur-Sinfonie die thematisch geschlossenste, die bereits in der Adagio-Einleitung des Kopfsatzes alle Urmotive enthält. Järvi entfesselte in den monumentalen Ecksätzen die Wucht feierlicher Blechbläser-Choräle, durchmaß im Adagio die von der Oboe vorgetragene “Ballade der Weltflucht” (Robert Haas) und deren tröstliche Erwiderung, ließ im Scherzo die kontrastierenden Themen hart aufeinanderprallen und errichtete in der gewaltigen Doppelfuge des Finales eine tönende Kathedrale. Bewundernswert, dass Orchester und Dirigent die Kraft aufbrachten, sich für den Beifall mit einem Satz aus der Serenade D-Dur von Johannes Brahms zu bedanken. W. B. Die prometheische Gewissheit wird siegen Neeme Järvi und das Residentie Orkest Den Haag bei “Pro Arte” in der Alten Oper. Bei aller Unterschiedlichkeit der sinfonischen Konzeption gibt es zwischen Gustav Mahler und Alexander Skrjabin doch musikalische Berührungspunkte. Beide Komponisten wiesen auf ihre Art einen Weg in die Moderne, für beide galt in besonderem Maße, dass Kunst nicht vom Können, sondern vom Müssen herrühre. Für Mahler war sie gewiss ein vergleichsweise existentielleres Problem. Alles Leiden an der Welt, alle Illusionslosigkeit über die Möglichkeit eines umfassenden Konfliktausgleichs – Mahler hat die Konturen seiner Epoche nicht nur früh durchschaut, sondern auch mit allen zu Gebote stehenden Mitteln dargestellt. Denen, die ihn nicht verstehen wollten, schien seine Musik nicht kunstvoll genug – der dialektisch überhöhte Einbruch von Trivialmusik irritierte. Ganz anders Skrjabin: Seine Ästhetik zielte auf Stärkebewusstsein und Zuversicht, auf die menschliche Potenz, etwas Bemerkenswertes und Dauerhaftes zu schaffen. Ihm schwebte eine synästhetische Realisation vor – ein Gesamtkunstwerk, in dem Klänge, Farben, sogar Düfte beziehungsreich miteinander harmonisieren. Aber auch in seinen auf eine normale Orchesterbesetzung sich beschränkenden Sinfonien Nr. 2 und 3 wird die Zielrichtung durch satzübergreifende Themenmetamorphosen überdeutlich. Beim lastend schweren Mollbeginn seiner Sinfonie Nr. 2 ahnt der Konzertgänger noch nicht, dass er am Ende beschwingt und mit wahrhaft erhabenem Gefühl heimgeschickt wird. In Skrjabins Sinfonie Nr. 3 c-Moll op. 43 (“Le poème divin”), die das Residentie Orkest Den Haag unter der Leitung seines Chefdirigenten Neeme Järvi jetzt bei einem “Pro Arte”-Konzert in der Alten Oper als Hauptwerk des Abends interpretierte, scheint solche "Durch Nacht zum Licht"-Entwicklung der pausenlos gespielten drei Sätze weit sublimierter. Thematisch eingängig und klangvoll ertönt zu Beginn ein machtvolles Tuba-Thema, das sich als konstitutiv für die gesamte Sinfonie erweist. In einem Programm zur Pariser Uraufführung 1904 wurde der erste Satz als Schilderung eines Kampfes “zwischen dem durch eine personifizierte Gottheit versklavten Menschen und dem freien Menschen, der die Göttlichkeit in sich trägt”, charakterisiert. Prometheus lässt grüßen. Doch bei Skrjabin ist dieser Kampf vorerst alles andere als siegreich. Wohl kaum zufällig hatten die niederländischen Gäste ihr Programm mit Beethovens Ouvertüre zum Ballett “Die Geschöpfe des Prometheus” C-Dur op. 43 begonnen. Schon die staccatoartig harten Orchesterschläge des Beginns bezeugten den offenbar langen Weg, den das Orchester seit der Ära Hans Vonks in den achtziger Jahren zurückgelegt hat. Neeme Järvi, der Vater des Frankfurter hr-Sinfonieorchester-Chefs, bevorzugte einen trockenen, ungemein transparenten und doch akzentreichen Interpretationsstil, der auch den Orchesterpart in Mozarts Konzert für Klavier und Orchester Nr. 21 C-Dur KV 467 keineswegs als bloße Begleitfolie erscheinen ließ. Der Solist Nikolai Lugansky überzeugte durch sorgsame Phrasierungen und Themenmodellierungen, die ein Teil des Publikums vielleicht, zumal der junge Künstler auf jegliche Manierismen verzichtete, ein wenig als Understatement missverstand. Dennoch gewährte er ein Rachmaninow-Prélude als Zugabe. So modern kann Bruckner klingen Die ersten drei Sätze sind gleichsam das gigantische Vorspiel zur Doppelfuge im Finale. Neemi Järvi und das Residentie Orkest Den Haag interpretierten jetzt Anton Bruckners Sinfonie Nr. 5 bei den Freiburger Albert-Konzerten. Dem Komponisten ist durchaus beizupflichten. Er selbst apostrophierte sie nämlich als sein “kontrapunktisches Meisterstück”, auch als seine “phantastische”. Etwas Wesentliches wäre allerdings zu ergänzen: Anton Bruckners kolossale “Fünfte” ist eine Finalsinfonie, ganz aufs Ende hin angelegt. Überspitzt gesagt: Die drei ersten Sätze sind das gigantische Präludium zur Doppelfuge im Schlusssatz. Jetzt war dieses grandiose B-Dur-Opus in seiner Zweitversion von 1877/78 (Nowak-Fassung) bei den Freiburger Albert-Konzerten zu hören. Und man bemerkte da sehr schnell: Das Residentie Orkest Den Haag mit seinem angenehmen, warmen, runden, fast deutschen Sound kann mit Bruckner. Der renommierte, 1904 gegründete niederländische Klangkörper hinterließ bei seinem (weshalb eigentlich?) so späten Freiburg-Debüt einen hervorragenden Eindruck. Das lag nicht zuletzt auch an seinem Chef Neeme Järvi. Der 71-Jährige, international eine Koryphäe, ist ein souveräner Dirigent alter Schule. Ein Bein artig und akkurat neben dem anderen: So stand er oft da, nach außen hin ein wenig steif wirkend, innerlich aber quicklebendig und von der Musik durchglüht. Mit eher kleinen Gesten und völlig showfrei zeigte sich Järvi als beflissener Zeremonienmeister des Klangs, als überaus feinsinniger Diener der Tonkunst. Diese Tugenden kamen Bruckner zugute, der selbst dort nicht vierschrötig oder klobig geriet, wo sich die Klangmassen türmen. Järvi modellierte, schichtete, erschloss diesen gewaltigen Kosmos – auch und gerade dort, wo der Komponist das Orchester wie die Manuale einer Orgel nutzt (jenes Instruments, auf dem er ja bestens Bescheid wusste): als Klangebenen und mit so genannter Terrassendynamik. Besonders ergreifend realisierte das Residenzorchester die Feinabstufungen des Leisen – wenn der große Apparat zur Kammermusik ansetzte. Lediglich im hier zugegebenermaßen schwierigen Kopfsatz wäre noch ein Quäntchen mehr Stringenz (und weniger Materialsammlung) denkbar gewesen. Ob Streicher, Holzbläser oder Blech: Dieses Orchester ist exzellent aufgestellt. Järvi konnte aus dem Vollen schöpfen – im Spektrum von der Apotheose bis zur Ländlerseligkeit und lyrischen Verinnerlichung. Der polyphone Anteil stieg. Und immer wieder – wir waren schließlich bei Bruckner! – meldete sich das Choralidiom. Der Choral, natürlich untextiert, aber doch auch so ein klingendes Symbol des Religiösen. Im Finale kommt ihm (“fff bis zum Ende”) das phonstarke Schlusswort zu. Sehr schön und kultiviert all dies. Was Järvis Bruckner-Deutung mit den Holländern jedoch in den Rang des Außergewöhnlichen erhob: Die Musik des großen österreichischen Sinfonikers hatte zwischen Wucht und Grazie in dieser Lesart alles, was sie braucht, was sie charakterisiert. Das Klangbild indes: nachgerade analytisch. Oder anders gesagt: Ein Romantiker wurde hier stilistisch und historisch absolut korrekt interpretiert – und dabei doch modern. Welch ein Kunststück! Mit zwei hübschen Zugaben verabschiedeten sich ein Orchester und ein Dirigent, die man möglichst bald in Freiburg wiederhören möchte. Und zwar am besten mit Bruckner. Bruckner võib kõlada nii modernselt Heliteose kolm esimest osa on samaaegselt gigantne eelmäng finaali topeltfuugale. Neeme Järvi ja Residentie Orkest Den Haag intepreteerivad nüüd Anton Bruckneri 5. sümfooniat Freiburgi Albert-kontserdisarjas. Heliloojaga võib täielikult nõustuda. Nimelt apostrofeeris ta oma „kontrapunktilise meistritüki” ka „fantastiliseks”. Kuid sellele peab lisama juurde veel midagi väga tähtsat: Anton Bruckneri kolossaalne „viies” on finaalsümfoonia, mis on sihitud lõpule. Liialdatult öelduna: teose kolm esimest osa on samaaegselt gigantseks preluudiumiks lõpuosa topeltfuugale. Nüüd võis seda grandioosset B-duur-oopust teises versioonis aastatelt 1877/88 (Nowak-redaktsioon) kuulata Freiburgi Albert-kontserdite sarjas. Publik märkas ruttu: Das Residentie Orkest Den Haag oskas oma meeldiva, sooja, puhta, pea et saksa soundiga Brucknerit mängida. Nimekas, aastal 1904 asutatud hollandi muusikakollektiiv jättis oma nii hilise (miks alles nüüd?) Freiburgi debüüdiga suurepärase mulje. Selles on „süüdi” ennekõike orkestri juht Neeme Järvi. 71-aastane, rahvusvaheline korüfee, on suveräänne vana kooli dirigent. Üks jalg kuulekalt ja akuraatselt teise kõrval: nii seisis ta puldis, jättes väljaspoole veidi jäiga mulje, kuid samaaegselt oli ta sisemiselt ülimalt elav ja muusikast põlev. Pigem väikeste liigutustega, ilma igasuguse šõuta, esitles Järvi ennast helile andunud tseremooniameistrina, ta on täielikult helikunsti peenetundeline teener. Need orkestrijuhi voorused tulid Brucknerile kasuks, kes ei muutunud isegi seal tahumatuks või kohmakaks, kus helimassid kuhjusid. Järvi vormis, silus, avas selle määratu kosmose – samuti, ja just seal, kus helilooja kasutab orkestrit nagu oreli käsiklahvistikku (instrument, mida ta hästi tundis): nagu helitasandikud koos nn. terrassidünaamikaga. Eriliselt liigutavalt realiseeris Residenzorkester tasaste toonide peened nüanssid – seal, kus suur aparaat muutub kammerorkestriks. Ainult siin, heliteose raske peaosa kohal, oleks olnud mõeldav üks raasukene rohkem terviklikkust (ja vähem materjalikogu). Ükskõik kas keelpillimängijad, puu- või vaskpillimängijad – see orkester on suurepäraselt üles ehitatud. Järvil oli võimalik ammutada terviklikkust – tal oli kasutada täielik spektrum apoteoossest kuni lendleriõndsuse ja lüürilise süvenemiseni. Polüfooniline osa kasvas. Ja ikka ja jälle – me olime ju Bruckneri juures! – andis ennast märku kirikumuusika. Koraal, loomulikult tekstita, kuid ikkagi religiooni helisev sümbol. Finaalis lisandub sellele („fff kuni lõpuni”) foonitugev lõpusõna. See kõik on ilus ja kultiveeritud. Mis aga Järvi Bruckneri tõlgenduse koos hollandlastega tõstis tavapärasest kõrgemale: suure austria sümfooniku muusikal oli kõike, mida ta vajab ning mis teda iseloomustab: jõudu ja graatsiat. Kuid ometigi oli helipilt lõppude lõpuks analüütiline. Või kui öelda teiste sõnadega: romantikut tõlgendati siin stiiliga ja ajalooliselt absoluutselt korrektselt – kuid seejuures oli ta ikkagi modernne. Milline kunst! Kahe toreda lisapalaga jätsid orkester ja dirigent, keda peatselt oleks soovi Freiburgis jälle kuulda, publikuga hüvasti. Kõige parema meelega siis, kui nad mängivad Brucknerit.
|
