Concert Featuring Brahms and Harbison
Location: Sanders Theatre and New England Conservatory’s Jordan Hall
Dates: October 14-16
Presented by: Boston Philharmonic Orchestra

The joy of making music – it’s contagious.”

No truer words could have been spoken than these by conductor Benjamin Zander, after the Boston Philharmonic Orchestra’s (BPO) performance Friday night in Sander’s Theater, part of the BPO “Discovery Series.”

Before performing each of the three works on the program, Zander explained the general structure of the piece and had separate sections of the orchestra demonstrate particularly difficult or interesting passages.

The performance toed the line between a master class and a concert. Presented in the context of Harvard’s premiere lecture hall, the concert could have risked falling too far on the side of academics; however, Zander kept his balance.

The first event on the program, Johannes Brahms’ “Tragic Overture,” is a story of unfulfilled expectations—a dark and nervous piece of music haunted by lyrical dreams of tenderness. Like Beethoven’s third symphony, the “Tragic Overture” opens with two solitary chords. Unlike Beethoven, however, whose opening to his third symphony is bold and heroic, Brahms’ second chord is built unsteadily on a note one step above the tonic and is missing the third entirely. This foreshadows the unmistakable loneliness and emotional dissonance that runs through the entire piece.

Zander described the piece as having “the power of Greek tragedy, the apocalyptic grandeur of ‘Oedipus Rex.’” To me, however, the beginning and end of the one-movement piece was more reminiscent of Dostoyevsky than Sophocles, with the restlessness of the low strings and the psychological irritation present throughout. The middle of the overture, however, had a more classically veiled sound.

The second event, John Harbison’s “Concerto for Viola and Orchestra,” was rare on two accounts. First, the composer was present in the audience; and second, the viola is rarely used as a solo instrument. “The traditional concerto is a battle between the soloist and the orchestra,” says Zander, and the viola—unlike its close cousin, the violin—has no chance of victory. With this in mind, Harbison, who plays the viola himself, cut the orchestra’s size significantly. The result was a more balanced relationship between orchestra and soloist, one in which the viola can hold its own.

Certainly the viola’s chances in the “battle” were not hurt by Kim Kashkashian, the world-renowned violist who took the reins for the concerto. Harbison’s concerto is one the most difficult pieces in a violist’s repertoire and Kashkashian played it brilliantly. The composition itself, however, was a bit muddled, and it seemed that only during this second event could audience members be seen suppressing yawns.

The third and final event of the evening, Robert Schumann’s “Symphony No. 3,” is an ode to the Rhineland full of passion and romance. Despite its well-known and well-loved opening theme, “Symphony No. 3” is rarely played in modern times because it poses many problems regarding orchestration. The solo lines are often masked by the rest of the orchestra and the final sound is a bit raw. Regardless, it is a fantastically energizing musical romance.

Unlike most symphonies, Schumann’s “Symphony” has five movements rather than four. Its structure mirrors Beethoven’s “Symphony No. 6,” with two miniatures after the opening movement followed by a momentous event in the fourth movement, Schumann’s “Symphony” concludes with some sort of reaction to the event in the fifth.

In Beethoven’s “Symphony No. 6,” often called “The Pastoral,” the momentous event in the fourth movement is a storm and the fifth movement represents conciliation and thanksgiving. In Schumann’s third, the “event” is the interior of the great Gothic Cathedral just south of Duesseldorf. It is nearly impossible to discern if the fourth movement is the deepest expression of sorrow or joy, but the extremities of joy and sorrow can often seem indistinguishable due to the profundity of feelings involved. In the fifth movement, Schumann views his solemn experience in the interior of the cathedral from the outside, using many of the same themes and figures he used in the fourth movement.

Schumann’s Symphony’s end was met with uproarious applause. The uniformly well-dressed and well-mannered crowd left entirely satisfied with the performance.

While greeting audience members in the lobby, Zander said, “It’s in the eyes. That’s where it lives.”

Zander stood teary eyed with a smile from ear to ear watching people walk to their cabs with a piece—if only a morsel—of his passion in their eyes.