Yesterday I had a revelation during the La Scala Philharmonic’s performance: I really like Wagner, I just had never heard it performed well. SSO, you suck. CUS, you suck. Compared to the bad boys at La Scala, all the other Wagner recitals I’ve heard resemble draggy and badly tuned cats in heat stuck in a dumpster. No wonder I hated Wagner, and wondered how anyone could have sat through a complete recital of Der Ring das Nibelungen in Bayreuth.

Until yesterday, that is. Riccardo Chailly showed that all it took was an incredible attention to dynamics without compromising any lyricism. While Vienna was fluid, almost jocular in nature under Ricardo Muti, La Scala’s show tonight was all about big, vibrant, energetic sound. But that didn’t come at the expense of lyric quality, as several incredibly delicate and fluid clarinet and oboe solos demonstrated magnificently.

And the principal violinists, wow. They could play faster than people could see their hands bowing the notes. And while most orchestras’ principal violinists steal all the limelight, La Scala’s principal cellist stole the limelight during the opening part of the encore piece, the William Tell Overture. And the strings! You could hear the horses galloping and practically see the Lone Ranger saving the day out in the Wild West. (Having Stradivari scattered through the string sections didn’t hurt either.)

And Ben Heppner, my word. Die Walküre never sounded this resonant and energetic. (Those of you who like Wagner know that that’s really saying something.)

It was a stunningly good performance, and breathlessly engaging to boot. Every piece was a winner - most uncharacteristically, there were no fillers on the program at all. How often is it that nightingales1 are part of the show, as in Pini di Roma?

Maestro Chailly was beaming at the end of Wesendonk Lieder, and looked positively radiant after playing Nino Rota’s2 Ballet Suite from La Strada. For the first time ever, our home crowd of little old ladies, tenured professors and music students all spontaneously gave them a standing ovation in the middle of a piece. And the maestro didn’t mind at all; it was that good.

With an orchestra like the La Scala Philharmonic, it seems almost unnecessary to have the coloratura sopranos or the booming tenors around. Just listening to the orchestra play was enough for an unforgettable night at the theater.

Read the rest of this entry »

Footnotes
  1. The nightingales were recorded, and back in 1924 were responsible for the audience booing the orchestra during the premiere.↩
  2. Nino Rota most famously wrote the score for The Godfather.↩