Slatkin returns to Powell Hall with Mozart, Elgar – and Slatkin

For the first piece that he presented at the renovated and reopened Powell Hall, St. Louis Symphony Orchestra Conductor Laureate  Leonard Slatkin chose a composer he knows well and loves: Leonard Slatkin.

Schubertiade: An Orchestral Fantasy – heard here in its U.S. Premiere – showed Slatkin as a storyteller in a magical realist mode. As Slatkin told a large crowd on Saturday night, he imagined Schubert as a working composer, entertaining musical friends as he was known to do. Slatkin borrowed themes from Schubert’s final sonata and from his unfinished symphony, embellished them with a large, percussion-enriched orchestra, and then imagined what modern composers (such as Philip Glass and Steve Reich) might do with these themes. 

There were moments when the textures of all the stringed instruments interlaced so deeply and with such resonance, it felt complete in a way that almost nothing ever feels complete. That also served as a reminder of what a powerful live room Powell Hall is.

Peter Henderson played a dual role on two instruments. He impersonated Schubert himself, meandering on an off-stage piano, then walked onstage to join the rest of the orchestra on celeste as the embellishments and variations began. The celeste added a music-box vibe that played well with a xylophone, and a small drum part sounded agreeably like a cheap beat box during the modern episodes.

The piano moved onstage, front and center, for W.A. Mozart’s Piano Concerto No. 25 and soloist Emanuel Ax, who has surely one of history’s coolest musician names. If Schubertiade muses on final and unfinished works, this concerto bristles with the energy of newness and youth, while being the exact opposite of unfinished. Piano Concerto No. 25 is one of the most tightly constructed, finely wrought, and polished pieces of music under the sun.

Slatkin cued Ax, if at all, with his eyes. The conductor would turn around on the podium and just look at Ax, as if to say, “You know what to do,” then Ax would do it gracefully. 

Whenever he had a few bars off duty, the soloist watched the orchestra with evident interest. There was plenty to see. Mozart wrote a series of calls and responses between instruments and sections that kept everyone busy and on their toes. No one player stood out, or maybe they all did. There were moments when the textures of all the stringed instruments interlaced so deeply and with such resonance, it felt complete in a way that almost nothing ever feels complete. That also served as a reminder of what a powerful live room Powell Hall is.

Edward Elgar’s Symphony No. 1 provided a satisfying second half and conclusion for Slatkin’s first show back in the old concert hall. Those deep string textures from the Mozart came back in with some of the tradition’s most lively and memorable writing for low strings. The doubles bass strode from a walking bass line to a propulsive march. Symphony No. 1  must be a common audition piece for low strings. Principal double bass Erik Harris crawled up and down the neck of his instrument like a man possessed.

There was a lot of that going around. Elgar wrote some fervent, frenetic passages for strings. The orchestra became an almost writhing mass of furious bowing and emphatic – almost epileptic – bodily gestures. It must have been even more cathartic to play this symphony than it was to hear, and I for one felt deep release from hearing this brooding, elegiac, intense music.

A few other orchestra principals drew notes. Beth Gutterman Chu, principal viola, appeared to levitate at one point, her body was so extended. On the other hand, Danny Lee, principal cello, seems to be working on his posture – I have always enjoyed his low-riding ways, but he was sitting upright like a normal cello player. Andrew Cuneo, principal bassoon, was like the Zelig of the orchestra, piping up everywhere when least expected. You wish someone loved and needed you the way Edward Elgar loved and needed the bassoon.

Slatkin – it is always so deeply rewarding to see him lead this orchestra – unwound and loosened up as the band worked the Elgar out of their systems. He danced as he turned to point or wave cues. He had the music visibly in him. At the closing of the second movement, he even pulled a magic trick. As the last notes faded, he drew his hands together then fingers together at the pace of the fading of the sound. It looked like he was putting the music away after catching it in his bare hands.

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