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| The Cleveland Orchestra at Severance Hall |
I have been listening to the Cleveland Orchestra for many years.
One cannot avoid it if your interest is in great music being played
at the highest level. The Cleveland Orchestra has always been in the
upper echelon of not only American orchestras, but on the
international stage as well. However, my own orchestral roots run to
the Chicago Symphony Orchestra. My teacher, Wayne Barrington, was a
member of the CSO from 1954 until 1964, so when I began studying with
him in 1967 I felt I was connected to the Chicago traditions, the
Chicago sound, and the Chicago style of orchestral playing.
When I arrived in San Antonio in 1975, taking the position of 3
rd
horn in the San Antonio Symphony, I found myself among enthusiastic musicians,
about my age, from a range of different stylistic backgrounds. By
1976 a group of musicians was gathering regularly at my house to
listen to music together. Our extracurricular music appreciation club
was just about equally divided between those who had studied the
Chicago style and those who came from the Cleveland tradition.
Although we actively promoted our own roots, Chicago or Cleveland, we
ultimately came away with deep mutual respect for both these
important institutions. My record collection, at that time only
beginning to grow by leaps and bounds, is now large, reflecting my
varied musical interests. But at the heart of the orchestral
recordings are many performances by the Chicago Symphony Orchestra,
mixed with a significant number of recordings by the Cleveland
Orchestra. Both orchestras are great. They have each changed over the
years and decades, while managing to maintain the highest level of
excellence. To hear either orchestra, from just about any point in
the stereo era, is enlightening and inspiring.
Prior to last Sunday, I had only heard the Cleveland Orchestra
live one time, a concert at the Blossom Music Festival 20-something
years ago. On the other hand, I've heard Chicago on tour in Austin
back in the early 70s, then on three occasions at Orchestra Hall
Chicago. I also had the opportunity to spend a week around the
orchestra at the Ravinia Festival, around 1978 or '9. Each time
hearing the CSO live has been a thrill, perhaps never more than
hearing a program of Wagner, Chavez and Beethoven at Orchestra Hall
in 2010. My sister Brenda and I splurged on great tickets to hear
that matinee program.
When I heard the Cleveland Orchestra was going to be in Austin to
play a couple of concerts as part of the 2014 Menuhin Competition, I made the mental check mark – yes, I will attend. But
as the weekend of their concerts grew near, I found that one of the
concerts was sold out and the other was selling fast. I feared I
might miss hearing them and probably would have just let it go if not
for a phone call from my friend Margaret Ayer. She also wanted to
hear the orchestra's final concert Sunday night. We also wanted to
see an old mutual friend, Hans Clebsch. Hans is the 3
rd
horn in the Cleveland; he's been there for 18 years, although it seems no more
than 15 years ago that Hans was playing 4
th horn to my 3
rd
at the Mineria Festival in Mexico City. That 15 years ago was, in fact, more like 25 years ago.
I contacted Hans to see if he could get us complimentary tickets.
Negative. The tickets were all in the hands of the Menuhin Festival
and the sponsoring Texas Performing Arts. I priced tickets, but found
only a few seats with a $104 price tag placed on them. Out of my
range. Margaret and I decided to go to the concert anyhow, enter
backstage, then play it by ear. At worst, we could hear the concert
from the wings of the stage. Margaret knows the concert venue
very well. The Long Center is home of the Austin Symphony Orchestra,
where Margaret plays 4
th horn, so she was confident we
could come through the backstage door. She was right. Once we were
backstage we moved freely among the musicians of the Cleveland
Orchestra. This is not surprising. Orchestra musicians everywhere are
comfortable backstage or onstage. It's being on the other side of the
proscenium which often makes us nervous.
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| Hans Clebsch, 3rd horn in the Cleveland Orchestra |
Already I was getting excited, just hanging out with the
orchestra. We had walked in with Michael Sachs, the Principal
Trumpet, talking musician small talk. Nice guy. We looked around
backstage for Hans, but couldn't find him. We also looked for Ellen
Dinwiddie Smith, another former student of Mr. Barrington, who was
subbing with the orchestra that week. She normally is 3
rd
horn in the Minnesota Orchestra.
In the end, we got the opportunity to take a couple of vacant
seats in the second row for the second half of the concert. What good
fortune, for the second part of the program was Tchaikovsky's "Fifth
Symphony," one of the greatest of Romantic symphonies and arguably
Tchaikovsky's finest. Conducting was Giancarlo Guerrero, the Costa
Rican musician who has succeeded on stages around the globe. His
regular gig these days is as Music Director of the Nashville
Symphony, but he works regularly with the Cleveland Orchestra as
their Principal Guest Conductor. The orchestra seems to like him very
much, and they should. It was amazing to watch him lead the orchestra
with clarity and musicality. He was having a great time, literally
dancing around the podium, at times more encouraging the orchestra
than leading them. You can do that with a great orchestra and it is
breathtaking when it happens, a
tour de force of mutual trust.
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| Giancarlo Guerrero, Principal Guest Conductor |
From the very first note of the Tchaikovsky, the orchestra was in
fine form. We were seated no more than 20 feet from the first
violins. In front and to our left were the first violins. If we looked to the right we saw the viola section. The
Cleveland strings sit with the cello section between the violas and
the second violins. From where we sat, we could not see the winds and
the brass, though we could hear them fine. Our vantage point gave us
a near perfect perspective for hearing the strings. If anything, I
couldn't hear the basses as clearly as I would have liked, but they
were definitely there, just a bit under-present. There is so much to
praise, I don't know where to begin. I will say up front that this
was one of the greatest listening experiences I have ever had. I
often say that the best seat in the house is in the middle of the
orchestra. I stick with that, but acknowledge that the seat I had
stumbled onto last Sunday night was pretty incredible. The strings
were nothing short of amazing. They played perfectly together. But
even more incredibly, they phrased together. I heard nothing
unmusical in the entire performance. And then there was the
conductor, Guerrero. (Why didn't the San Antonio Symphony go after
him when he was climbing his way up through the lower echelon of
orchestras?) He danced, he encouraged, he cued and conducted with
great clarity while never becoming mechanical about his craft. And he
smiled! It was a smile of appreciation, the smile of a man madly in
love with the place he found himself, in front of one of the world's
greatest orchestra.
Both Margaret and I leaned forward ever so slightly as the second
movement began. We knew the introductory measures from the strings
were all just a setup for one of the most famous first horn solos
ever written. Guerrero relaxed his baton, letting Principal Horn
Richard King lead the orchestra. It was oh so fine, as good as it
could be played. Pardon me a moment for a bit of technical talk. The
Cleveland orchestra's horn section comes from a
long tradition of playing Conn 8Ds. These are instruments from a famous American music
instrument maker (C.G. Conn). Just about any American who plays the horn has
played at one time or another on an 8D. Some are more passionate
about the experience, others not so much. Suffice it to say that I become
somewhat bored when I play an 8D. I much prefer the more varied sound
palette of the style of horn made by Carl Geyer and his numerous
disciples. That said, I have nothing at all to criticize about the
sound of the Cleveland Orchestra's horn section. If I could sound
like that, I would consider playing a Conn 8D again. Bravo to Richard
King! He absolutely deserved the extended solo bow he got at the end
of the evening.
Considering the important role Tchaikovsky played in Russian
dance, it's no surprise that so much of his music dances, whether
intended literally for that purpose, or not. The Third Movement of
the "Fifth Symphony" is a good example. By this time Sunday night,
Giancarlo Guerrero and the Cleveland Orchestra had the Long Center
audience in the palm of its hand. The crowd was well behaved,
suppressing its coughs despite the fact another cold front had rolled
into Austin earlier in the day. The one exception was a several
syllabled shout from someone at the end of the Andante Cantabile
Second Movement. It was not offensive, just someone expressing his
appreciation for the beauty of the moment. Onward went the orchestra,
with little pause. Of course, this is nothing new to the
Clevelanders. They are these days a much traveled orchestra, with a
series of concerts ongoing in Miami on top of various short tours and
runouts to other zip codes around the country. The month of February
had been somewhat brutal. In talking to my friend Hans over brunch
earlier in the day, I heard the orchestra had just finished part of a
week in Miami. Earlier in the month, they had played a several city
tour in Nebraska, including a stop in Lincoln. It's interesting that
I just read an article declaring Lincoln, Nebraska the happiest small
city in America. Perhaps they took that measurement just after the
Cleveland Orchestra had been there.
Sitting second row, center at the Long Center, listening in super
sound to the Cleveland Orchestra! I kept thinking what a lucky guy I
was to be there. I suspect anywhere in the hall would have been
satisfying, yet there wouldn't have been the same clarity of sound
and stereo image. In the Third Movement the orchestra has an ongoing
thread of conversation throughout. The woodwinds and brass punctuate
and underscore the elegant lines of the strings, and they did it on
this evening with such grace! During those countless afternoons and
evenings long ago in San Antonio, listening for hours on end to the
Chicago Symphony, then the Cleveland Orchestra, attention was always
drawn to the Cleveland woodwind section. It is said that George
Szell, the at times autocratic conductor in Cleveland for many years,
would personally coach each of the principal players of the
orchestra. This produced a unanimity to the orchestra's phrasing, in
the 1960s perhaps most apparent in the woodwinds. I know now that our
listening club of San Antonio musicians had a tendency to paint too
often in primary colors, at times simply in black and white. After
all, everyone knows the Chicago Symphony is the one with the world's
greatest brass section, the Cleveland has the finest woodwinds and
the Philadelphia the best strings. We were like a bunch of
conservatory students listening through aural blinders. Thankfully, I
have come well beyond this compartmentalized view of the orchestral
world, and I hope all of my other friends from back in the mid-70s
have done so too. Our way of listening back then was intense, and
that's good. It was passionate, and that's a good thing. But it has
taken time to learn the true art of music appreciation. Yes, the more
knowledgeable we are about the music, the better. Rudimentary
knowledge of harmony, of musical architecture, of the instruments of
the orchestra enhances the listening experience. But in the end, we
have to allow ourselves to be swept away. I guess it's like all of
the permissions we have to agree to when installing a new app onto
our phones or computers. Yes, yes, yes. You have permission to post
emotions directly to my heart. You can delight my intellectual
centers. Carry me away. Once we give ourselves over completely,
unconditionally, the full experience of listening to music can sweep
over us, knock us off our feet, send shivers down our spines, cause
our hearts to palpitate and tears to flow freely. This is what music
is, what it should always be. It's a complex blend of intellect and
emotion. It's the past, present and future. It's MAGIC! It's not
wallpaper!
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Smiling statue
Xalapa, Mexico |
At the Anthropology Museum in Xalapa, Mexico, a museum ranked as
second only to the museum in Mexico City for the importance of its
collection of pre-Columbian art, there is an entire section devoted
to masks from the Blanco and Papaloapan basins, representative of the
Classical period (300-900 A.D.). Every face is smiling, not just a
polite and dignified Olan Mills smile, but an over the top bursting
all barriers smile. Who knows what is making these faces of centuries
ago smile with such unselfconscious delight, but I challenge anyone
to walk into that space and not mirror what they are seeing around
them.
The playing of the Cleveland Orchestra was beginning to have that
same effect on me. I was smiling ear to ear, and so was the
orchestra, some with a more Mona Lisa smile, while others wore their
smiles more broadly as testament to their enjoyment of the moment. The conductor
smiled, too, perhaps the biggest smile of all. Who wouldn't,
conducting the Cleveland Orchestra, playing in the Cleveland
Orchestra, sitting second row center listening to the Cleveland? To
borrow a phrase from my old friend David Amram, this was “outta
sight.” In the Third Movement there are many moments about which to
smile. There's none of the high drama of the other movements. This is
pure dance. I watched the first violins execute lines of filigreed
elegance without the slightest error. The line was then carried
across the front of the orchestra to the violas, often the butt of
musician jokes. None of that in this great orchestra! Tchaikovsky ups
the ante, allowing the violas to mirror the line of the violins, then
extend it. It's perfect, so perfect that Tchaikovsky writes it again.
I smiled once, I smiled again and the movement transitioned without
pause into the Finale of the "Fifth Symphony."
Here was a chance for the orchestra to show its power. But it's
not an edgy power, but neither is it restrained. It's just right. There's a
sound to the orchestra which some say is European. I was asked what
that means, but couldn't express it with words. There's a patina
which burnishes the tone of the orchestra. There's a dark hue to the
sound. See.....any attempt to describe this European sound seems
contrived. But the truth to the statement is found through listening.
It is an incredibly lustrous sound. It is balanced. It is a sunset of
complex shades and colors. Long after George Szell was dead and gone,
one still hears the Cleveland Orchestra referenced as Szell's
orchestra. Christoph von Dohnanyi, who served as the orchestra's
Music Director during the 80s and 90s, accepted this. He understood
what it meant, that it reflected a tradition he was privileged to
carry on. I have to admit that this was somewhat on my mind when I
heard the orchestra's opening number Sunday night, Dvorak's “Carnival
Overture.” The Cleveland Orchestra made a specialty of Dvorak
during the Szell era. In some cases, Szell made changes to Dvorak's
scores to reflect his own thoughts on the composer's intentions. When
I played Dvorak's "Symphony No. 8" for the first time many years ago
under the conductor Lawrence Leighton Smith, I saw first hand some of
those changes. Smith had been an assistant to Szell and carried that
torch to Austin, later to San Antonio, and finally to Colorado
Springs. I am sure he would preface every first rehearsal of the 8
th
Symphony, as he did in Austin in 1972, with musical phrases drawn
onto a blackboard, showing Szell's interpretation.
When I heard the Cleveland Orchestra for the first time, years ago
at the Blossom Festival, the principal piece on the program was the Dvorak 8th. I wondered at the time if they were
still playing from orchestra parts showing Szell's changes. I
suspected they were, for I could close my eyes then and imagine the
performance being led by Szell. In truth, I don't remember who
conducted the orchestra on that Summer evening. It doesn't matter. It
was Szell's orchestra. As Christoph von Dohnanyi famously said: "We
give a great concert...and George Szell gets a great review."
So what about today? What did I hear on Sunday night at the Long
Center?
Was it Dohnanyi's orchestra? He's been gone for less than a
decade. Or is it now Franz Welser-Most's orchestra? He's the current
Music Director in Cleveland. Or could this even have been Giancarlo
Guerrero's Cleveland Orchestra? He certainly guided the orchestra
with a sure and confident hand. But in the end, I came away with the
impression that the orchestra today belongs to the musicians of the
Cleveland Orchestra. They have taken full possession of their own
ensemble and it shows. They care deeply for their orchestra and its
legacy and are bound and determined to maintain the highest
standards. They want their Cleveland Orchestra to be the best in the
world.
Earlier in the day, sitting over brunch with Hans Clebsch, talking
about his good fortune at playing with the Cleveland Orchestra, Hans
mentioned Mary Kay Fink, the orchestra's piccolo player who joined
the orchestra in 1988 when William Hebert, the previous piccolo
player of the orchestra retired. Some years later, Ms. Fink won an
audition for the piccolo position in the Chicago Symphony, but
decided to turn it down, to stay put in Cleveland.
“Why would anyone turn down Chicago to come back to Cleveland?”
asked Margaret. It's a fair question and also the perfect setup for
Hans' reply.
“Because we are the Cleveland Orchestra.”
- James Baker
