Seattle Symphony music director Ludovic Morlot proves himself over and over as a master at designing programs which work: for contrast, as a theme, for weight in comparison to the rest of the program, for new works in conjunction with old.
This week’s Masterworks concerts are a case in point. Morlot programmed an Henri Dutilleux work, Timbres, espace, mouvement, ou “La nuit etoilée,” likely unfamiliar to Seattle audiences but he followed it before intermission with one of the most popular Beethoven piano concertos, No. 4, with well-regarded soloist Imogen Cooper as soloist. What could possible come after what was clearly going to be, and was, a fine, profound performance?
Morlot chose to complete the program with Prokofiev’s last work, his Symphony No. 7. It’s a work the composer, poor, ill and persecuted by Stalin, finished only a few months before his death, yet it conveys none of this. Instead it is a delightful complement to the Beethoven.
First, though, came the Dutilleux, written by the composer as a musical analogy to Van Gogh’s painting “La nuit etoilée” (“Starry Night”). In three continuous sections—Nebuleuse, Interlude, Constellations—he wrote out his impressions in a work which could be described as analogous to John Luther Adam’s Become Ocean, another in-depth musical portrait of nature.
Using no upper strings (except harp), but with 12 cellos semi-circled around the conductor, 12 basses to one side, percussion to the other, and a full complement of winds at the back, Dutilleux uses the high winds to describe the starry sky, which in his portrayal is often pretty wild with cosmic explosions, starry collisions, and wind—as well as the ethereal feel we get from observing a quiet, starry night sky. The low strings, on the other hand, portray the dark landscape at the bottom of the painting.
At the start, a screen showed the photo of a nebula, and then a starry nucleus, before showing the Van Gogh painting. Before conducting, Morlot talked about these images briefly in conjunction with the music, which really does give one a feel for the swirling stars in the painting.
The orchestra, nowadays so excellent that quibbles are rarely necessary, responded to Morlot’s every nuanced choice, that in turn influenced by his comfort and empathy with Dutilleux’ music. The hall was nearly full, no doubt due to the Beethoven and Cooper, but it clearly appreciated the Dutilleux.
From its first unusual beginning with the pianist’s solo phrase and then long silence while the orchestra plays with it, Beethoven’s No. 4 is a sunny work with depth. The musical delicacy of Cooper’s piano, contrasting in the first movement between sharp-edged, almost bouncy notes and limpid legato phrases, and the firm, in-your-face chords of the orchestra gave way in the second movement to a completely different more pensive feel, in which Cooper’s phrasing and pedaling were exquisitely shaped. The final movement with its total change of mood to carefree sunniness brought the concerto, Morlot and Cooper seemingly thinking identically, to a supremely satisfactory conclusion. The audience surely thought so, bringing Cooper back for four bows.
You’d never know from Prokofiev’s 7th Symphony what straits he was in. It’s lighthearted with an impish sense of humor, which manifests itself with unexpected, quirky moments and a series of ‟plinks” from orchestra piano and plucked strings. The lilting second movement, with its joyful, carefree sense gives way to a calming third and then to a fun last movement which for all the world sounds at times like a Noah’s ark of galumphing animals in procession, music which often brought a smile to the face. The orchestra played superbly throughout, with acknowledged fine solos from all the wind principals and french horn.