What's the frequency, Felix?

Leila Josefowicz

The San Francisco Symphony's Mendelssohn/Adès festival began this week with a knockout performance of... Stravinsky. I'm not sure if that was the result of curious design or nothing more than an unintended consequence of motherhood.  The mother in question is Leila Josefowicz, the superb violinist who during 2009 performed 10 different concertos during a single tour. That's an astounding feat, especially since she had most, if not all of them, committed to memory, including new works by Esa-Pekka Salonen and Adès' own Concentric Paths, which she performed here in San Francisco that year.

So why Josefowicz performed Stravinsky's concerto instead Adès' is a legitimate question, don't you think? I suppose I could act like a real journalist and actually ask someone at the Symphony that question, but sometimes it's more fun to speculate and besides, it's 2:00 AM and if I wait around for an answer this post will never get finished- it will end up like my post about the Rolling Stones concerts back in May, just sitting there in the queue, waiting for me to get back to it one day.

I took a look at Josefowicz's tour schedule and she's not nearly as ambitious as she was in 2009: only three works appear on her calendar for 2013, all of which she has a long history of playing: the concertos by Stravinsky, Salonen and John Adams. Next year she adds Francesconi to the list, but apart from a couple of recitals with a more varied program which include works she been performing for awhile and a single performance of the Berg Chamber Concerto, it' almost all Igor, Esa-Pekka, and John, with a bit of Luca, through June of 2014. So I'm guessing that if you want Leila to show up, you've got to choose among those four guys. And if you'll notice, three of those guys are still alive, and performing the work of one living composer during a festival promoting another living composer is just not comme il faut. But what about Concentric Paths? I for one, would certainly welcome a repeat performance of the work, which I found extremely engaging when it was performed in 2009, and besides, didn't Gil Shaham just recently play the Stravinsky Concerto here? Why, yes- yes he did. So I think Josefowicz said something along the lines of "I have two kids to take care of and this is the rep I'm performing right now. See this toddler?  Do you know what it's like having a toddler and touring?  If I can play one of these four works, I'll come play it with you. Otherwise I'll see you in 2015, because I'm busy."

And I think whoever is in charge of these things said something along the lines of  "You know, having Leila play Stravinsky is better than no Leila at all, and it's certainly better than having her play Adams, Salonen, or Francesconi while Adès is in the house, Okay, it's a deal." And there you have it, although there is the possibility that this whole thing has been planned for a couple of years now, long before her most recent child was conceived, and she's the one who made the call and said "Sorry, but there's been a change of plans..." and a decision was made to accommodate her rather than seeking another soloist.

Either way, it was a damn good decision, because Josefowicz was in excellent form, even if the piece stuck out like Sinead O'Connor at a Miley Cyrus concert. Looking radiant in a yellow silk chiffon dress (I'm kind of guessing about that) with an olive green sash banded around the waist which continued vertically down the front of the dress, her hair pulled up in a fancy twist, she and guest conductor Pablo Heras-Casado (35 years old) made quite a dapper-looking pair at the front of the stage. Sex appeal is one thing, what's even better is when they deliver, and both did, though Heras-Casado's job on this piece was aided by Josefowicz, who constantly turned to orchestra members as it to queue them, or to make sure they were following her. Josefowicz is a physical performer, but not a showy one. Her fingers move along the neck of her instrument with uncanny precision while her body takes on the music's rhythm. You can see her thoughts vividly expressed on her face while she's playing, which makes her one of the most transparent and engaging performers I've seen.

The concert began with two brief pieces from Jean Baptiste Lully, the Overture and Passacaille from his opera Armide (1648). It's been a long time since I've heard the orchestra perform music from the Baroque era and these pieces showcased the particular beauty of which this string section is capable. Building on that, Adès came next with Three Studies from Couperin (2006), an orchestration of pieces originally written for the harpsichord. In the program notes James Keller writes that Adès "recalls Stravinsky's reworking of Pergolesi (and that composer's contemporaries) in Pulcinella, right down to potentially rude thumps from brass and percussion" in Les Tours de Passe-passe (The Sleight of Hand), the second of the three, so perhaps there is a link to the concerto's appearance, but that connection was lost on me, as I found myself constantly drawn to the structure and tone of the three movements. The third, L’Âme-en-peine (The Soul in Distress), was especially effective.

At the intermission GG turned to me and asked "What is the theme of this concert?" I replied that I rightfully didn't know anymore, though the Symphony's website mentions something about Adès and Mendelssohn's "Baroque fascination."

If there's such a fascination evident in Mendelssohn's Symphony No. 3, Scottish (1842), it was all but buried on this night to the point of being invisible under the warm Romantic glow Heras-Casado elictited from the orchestra. Conducting without a score, Heras-Casado brought the work's folk elements to the fore in a highly robust, precise performance, with especially fine turns by Principals Carey Bell on clarinet and Tim Day on flute.

On Thursday night Adès performed with musicians from the orchestra in a chamber concert featuring two of his works sandwiching one each by Debussey and Ravel. If there were connections Adès wanted to make between his pieces and those of the others they weren't obvious to me, though I was hearing each work for the first time and each had its own delightful distractions. The first piece was Adès' Sonata da Caccia, Opus 11, with Adès on harpsichord, Jonathan Fischer on oboe and Chris Cooper on horn.  James Keller's program notes quote Adès as saying "My ideal day would be staying at home and playing the harpsichord works of Couperin- new inspiration on every page." To each their own, I guess, as my ideal day at home wouldn't involve a harpsichord under any circumstances unless Julianne Moore was sprawled on top of it. However, watching and hearing Adès perform on one, with his combination of Bryan Ferry-like panache and an almost punk rock fervor, certainly engages the listener, especially since his compositions embrace the lower end of the instrument's range in favor of  its tinkly top. If there's a composer who can finally warm me up to the allures of the harpsichord, which until now has always escaped my ears, it's Adès.

Both works by Debussy (Sonata for Flute, Viola, and Harp) and Ravel (Chansons madécasses) contain strands of their more widely-known string quartets, and like those two pieces, these formed a conversation between them which Adès then joined in with his Piano Quintet. The conversation was moving along quite well as far as I could tell when suddenly cellist Amos Yang stopped it cold by standing up. He muttered something to his fellow musicians, set his cello down on the floor, on walked offstage with his bow in hand. I couldn't make out what any part of what he said, and no explanation was offered to the audience, who sat there waiting to see what would happen next as none of the musicians moved or gave us any indication that we should do anything else. Yang returned about a minute later, whether or not he was holding a different bow I couldn't tell, and they resumed the piece where they left off- or at least that's what seemed to happen. The odd moment distracted me however, and I lost the work's thread. Baritone John Brancy sang Chansons madécasses beautifully, and his rich timbre reminded me of a young Keenlyside.

The Mendelssohn/Adès Festival continues next week with Mendelssohn's Suite from A Midsummer Night's Dream and The First Walpurgis Night and scenes from Adès' The Tempest,. Joining the orchestra for these performances is a highly talented group of singers- Alek Shrader, Audrey Luna, Isabel Leonard, Charlotte Hellekant, Rod Gilfrey, along with the San Francisco Symphony chorus. The theme for this one is obvious. Heras-Casado will be on the podium once again. Tickets are available here.

The Point of View

I don't know what I shall do; I feel so undraped, so uncurtained, so uncushioned; I feel as if I were sitting in the centre of a mighty "reflector." 

- Henry James, The Point of View

After the Bostonians vacated the hall a Finn named Esa-Pekka Salonen arrived to take charge of things for the weekend. He brought three pieces with him: a souvenir from his homeland, another from Germany (he's recently admitted to being fascinated with these heavy German items), and a substantial work of his own hand, for which he was recently awarded a handsome prize. Isabella and I had looked forward to his visit for some time, in no small part due to his bringing two illustrious visitors with him, both women- a musician and a singer.

As we neared the entrance to the hall I my eye caught someone I once knew standing alone under the harsh lights near the curb, furtively looking down.  I had known such a thing would occur at some point, but the foreknowledge didn't prevent an unpleasant stain from spreading through my consciousness. It was the unexpectedness of it happening at this particular moment that took me by surprise, though in hindsight I could have easily deduced the odds if I had considered her past behavior. But who has the time for such things? I turned my gaze, unaware of whether if she saw us or not, and entered the lobby, whispering in Isabella's ear that a jackal was present in the garden.

As we waited for the Finn to take the podium I saw the jackal enter the terrace, followed by her elderly warden, and watched as they took seats in the back row, almost directly across the hall from us. It wasn't until the next morning an amusing but sad irony about the entire scene occurred to me as Isabella and I were having breakfast. As I've said before, it's a small town.

Salonen strode to the podium looking like he still lived in Southern California. He reminded Isabella of a certain pop singer my sister was involved with until my mother put her foot down, thus ending the absurd sight of a white Rolls Royce frequently parked at the curb of our house after school when we were teenagers. The quiet strains which open Sibelius' Pohjola's Daughter (Daughter of the North) rose from the bass and cellos. The piece, one of many by the composer inspired by Karelian poetry, is based on the story of a wise man who falls under the spell of a dangerous yet alluring female spectre while searching for a wife in the northern hinterlands.

The spectre requests the hero perform several impossible tasks in order to win her hand and the music grows louder and darker as his failures and frustration mounts, chugging along to an impressive climax which the brass took brilliantly. At the end, the wise man gives up and moves on and the music dissolved into a silence signalling an unequivocal, sad defeat. The orchestra has played the piece only once before, in 1948. It would be nice to hear more of these Sibelius tone poems, of which there are a dozen.

During the break I noticed the jackal and her warden rise and exit through the rear door of the terrace. I thought they were leaving but they soon reappeared on the side of the terrace and talked an usher into letting them sit in seats that didn't belong to them. I watched the jackal put on her glasses. Isabella, who has a keen eye for such things, had some interesting observations about their body language.

Leila Josefowicz walked onstage in five-inch heels wearing a gown accommodating her obvious pregnancy. The combination worked for me on a number of levels. There's something incredibly bold about Josefowicz which manifests itself in so many ways. She performs fearlessly. A serious advocate for contemporary composers, she's had some brilliant pieces written specifically for her, including Salonen's Violin Concerto which came next.

Salonen recently won the presigious Grawemeyer Award for music composition for the piece and I was present at its world premiere at Disney Hall- it was one of the bests concerts I've ever attended and I was looking forward to hearing it again. Salonen breaks all kinds of "rules" with the piece but hews to a traditional model. It begins with the soloist who then continues to play almost all the way through it. There's also a complete drum kit onstage, which drives the rythmic heart of the piece found in its third movement, called "Pulse II"- an evocation of the vitality of life in Los Angeles. The fourth movement is about as long as the first three combined.

Josefowicz tore through the half-hour long work with obvious relish, aggressively taking on the dizzying fast parts, sections full of double stops and loaded with notes that tumble on top of one another like an avalanche. Her performance, as I expected it would be, was thrilling, even if the orchestra didn't seem to fully gel with Salonen in the intricasies of the final movement.

The lack of cohesion between conductor and orchestra became more apparent after the intermission which featured music from Wagner's Gotterdammerung. Soprano Christine Brewer, whose career has taken her increasingly away from the opera house after a knee injury sidelined her for awhile, was on hand to sing Brunnhilde's immolation scene. The strings sounded wonderful throughout, with concertmaster Alexander Barantschik taking a seat onstage after Josefowicz' departure, but the brass were limpid during the dawn and journey down the Rhine. The funeral march was taken at very fast tempo, robbing it of a lot of its drama, and Brewer struggled to make herself heard over the orchestra. Though there were moments of beauty scattered throughout (how could there not be with some of the most gorgeous music ever written?), the overall execution was surprisingly a train wreck, all the more inexplicable because I've witnessed all of these artists give terrific, even stunning, performances of Wagner's music in the past.

We left without seeing the jackal again and stepped out into crisp, cold evening, admiring the almost-full moon shining brightly over the gilded dome of City Hall. Neither of us had to work the next morning, so we stayed up late, listening to sections from different versions of Gotterdammerung- Solti and Boulez's, discussing the evil of Hagen, the prescience of the Norns, and slowly everything receded into the twilight.

Jane Monheit and Leila Josefowicz

It's doubtful those two names have ever been linked before, and I'd guess it unlikely to ever happen again. Both were scheduled to appear here Thursday night, actually within two blocks of one another. At one time, this would have been an easy decision for me to make- Leila Josefowicz is one of my favorite performers and would have been my choice without reservation. However, Jane Monheit is the Femme Fatale's favorite singer (yes, much to my consternation she's not quite gone just yet) so I arranged tickets so she and I could attend the performance, not feeling too badly about missing Josefowicz this time around because she'll be performing with the SF Symphony next season.

Then everything became tangled in a most sordid way. The Femme Fatale decided she couldn't attend the concert because her presence would likely expose something she has deftly kept hidden for months on end. I thought we were past this phase, so you can imagine my state of mind upon learning this. Failing to find someone else to take her place, I arrived at the hall alone and within a few minutes had spotted the other person who held a ticket for her.

After taking my seat I scanned the hall. Where were his seats? Of course I imagined his would end up being right next to my own and there we'd sit- two cuckolds separated by two seats meant for the same woman. Like something out of one of Woody Allen's bitter movies of the 90's.

I saw him take his seat across the hall- directly in my field of vision should I glance up from the stage. Now, I'm not one who really believes in Karma, but there was certainly some sort of cosmic retribution taking place here, yet I for one found it somewhat distasteful the person to whom it should be directed wasn't even present. Which is why I don't believe in Karma.

Monheit and her three piece band (Michael Kanan on piano, Neal Miner on bass and Monheit's husband Rick Montalbano on drums) took the stage to warm applause and began the set with "While We're Young" and followed it with "Look For the Silver Lining" and "This is Always," all from her most recent recording, Home. Next came a song she hasn't recorded but wants to, "That's All"- recently covered by Michael Buble, but I'd recommend Nat King Cole's version instead. Monheit noted she originally thought of this as a song for lovers, but now that she's a parent she sees it apropos of more than one kind of relationship.

She had begun to lose me with this between-song banter and her version of "Moon River" unfortunately finished the job. Mercer's wistful lyrics can certainly be taken down a dark path and I can imagine the song sounding quite bleak if sung by the literary Golightly instead of Hepburn's lighter version. Undoubtedly the song had a simply gorgeous introduction courtesy of Kanan, but midway through Monheit began to scat in ways that conveyed sheer, unrelenting angst to my ears- and it just stopped the song dead in its tracks for me. It's an interesting, valid approach to the song, but I just couldn't go with it coming from her. Partly because there is nothing believable about hearing Monheit do angst- she had just finished telling the audience her toddler was sleeping in the dressing room and making jokes about how Montalbano would soon be snoring while she was going to be up all night. Sure, I guess there can be angst in that scenario for an artist, a mother, or a family on the road, but these asides were conveyed with warmth and reassurance, not in a way that possibly signaled a fragile state that could fall apart at a moment's notice backstage after the show. It was a Dick and Jane act, not Dick and Liz.

Then, to make what we had just heard seem even more incongruous, she described the next tune, Pal Joey's "There's a Small Hotel" as the "kissing song" because whenever and wherever they play it they spot people smooching in the audience. I looked around, but didn't notice any. Perhaps it was taking place right behind me- there had to be some reason that guy kept kicking my seat. She followed this Home's opening track, "A Shine on Your Shoes," then another tune from Pal Joey,"Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered" and ended the first set with Irving Berlin's "Cheek to Cheek."

By this time I was the one feeling bewitched, bothered and bewildered. Of course this is just my own preference, I know, but I like my jazz singers to be of two types: those who can wrench the listener's emotions using nothing more than their voice applied to the lyrics (think Jimmy Scott or Billie Holliday) and those who expose something about themselves via the songs they're singing (think Rickie Lee Jones or Edith Piaf). Warm and fuzzy banter is a bit of a turn off for me in this medium unless its part of the shtick (ala Michael Feinstein).

Monheit's sunny demeanor matches her voice, but it also removes the mystery in it, and her voice is unique in that the crystal clear, gleaming tone in it always carries a hint of something darker lurking within. There's a shadow against  all that sunlight when you listen to her recordings and it's what got my attention when I first heard her. That darkness came through in "Moon River," but the sunny proceedings (aided to some extent by the brightness of the hall itself, just felt wrong to me. Of course, that could have just been my state of mind at the time, right?

At intermission I decided to take a walk down the street and skip the second set, thinking it would be more or less more of the same. I rarely do such a thing but since I wasn't really enjoying it I thought why not catch the second half of Josefowicz's concert?

I took a seat in the nearly empty balcony in time to hear the Largo of Shostakovich's Sonata for Violin and Piano, Op. 134. Then came the intermission and I ran into Patrick, whom I knew would be seated in the front row. I asked him if there were any empty seats up there, and for the second half of the concert enjoyed watching Josefowicz perform from close proximity.

Leaving the other performance for this one turned out to be a smart choice for me.

Josefowicz was accompanied by pianist John Novacek, whose heavy-handed approach worked well during Stravinsky's Duo Concertant once the duo got past the Cantilène, in which Josefowicz seemed to struggle against. The Gigue, on the other hand was everything one could hope for and her frenzied playing during the Dithyramb was thrilling. The music stand often obscured her left hand from my view, but watching her face was almost as illuminating as listening to her attack this music.

Next up was a work by a contemporary Estonian composer (unfamiliar to me)- Erkki-Sven Tüür's Conversio, which is a jarring, clashing, rhythmic bit of pugilism between the violin and piano that eventually ends with the violin dissolving the last notes in a quiet tremolo. This was exciting to hear and both Josefowicz and Novacek appeared fully engaged with the piece. I would certainly like to hear this almost violent piece performed again.

The final piece was Schubert's Rondo Brilliant for Violin and Piano, D. 895, which again featured Novacek playing extremely heavy-handed and I thought the approach undermined the work to a certain extent. The program notes explained the score calls for each to player to "hammer it out to launch the Rondo" but Novacek never put the hammer down. Josefowicz hit just as hard, and while it worked well in the more forceful part of this work written for virtuosos of both instruments, the softer passages lacked the contrast which would made the more robust elements all the more impressive.

They performed Charlie Chaplin's "Smile" as an encore, which Josefowicz and Novacek recorded for her "Americana" CD (and it was the only piece on the program performed from memory).

After the concert I returned home and found the Femme Fatale in my apartment, dressed in her usual head-to-toe black, listening to the only disc she's every brought over to my place I actually loathe. We then went to the corner store, bought a bottle of Bulleit, and over nightcaps, tried to forget for at least a moment how a love affair can become so distressingly twisted and convoluted.

Monheit's show was presented by SFJazz. Josefowicz was presented by San Francisco Performances. Josefowicz donated a portion of her fee to Classical Action:Performing Arts Against AIDS.

The best of 2009

This past year I saw over 70 different performances, most of which I wrote about, though some were so uninspiring they didn't even merit the time it would have taken to criticize them. However, a number of them were so terrific for one reason or another that I'll probably never forget them.

Listed below, in chronological order, are ten performances I attended this year that in my mind were the best:
LA Opera's Das Rheingold: Director Achim Freyer's first installment of Wagner's Ring cycle was nothing less than a revelation and it was easily the best opera I saw this year. In fact, it's probably one of the five best opera productions I've ever seen. This is opera for the 21st Century: bold, innovative and unafraid of risk, while keeping true to the spirit of Wagner's intentions. While Die Walkure and Siegfried didn't thrill me as much (probably because Rheingold is my favorite opera above all others), LAO's Ring is not to be missed. When they do the entire cycle this summer, the naysayers will surely have their comeuppance.

Anne-Sophie Mutter performing Gubaidulina's Violin Concerto No. 2: What can you say, one of the world's premier violinist's performing a challenging contemporary work dedicated to her. It was enthralling. The Ravel in the second half didn't quite measure up, but really, what could have?

Martha Argerich and Ligeti's Requiem at San Francisco Symphony: Thrilling in every sense of the word. Ligeti's Requiem had both the orchestra and the SFS chorus performing at their absolute peak in a haunting work that heard live is an unforgettable experience. Argerich actually showed up for once, and gave the audience a bravura performance of the Ravel concerto that was loaded with emotion and skill, meriting perhaps the longest ovation I've ever heard in that hall. You should have been there.

Leila Josefowicz and Esa-Pekka Salonen at LA Phil: Josefowicz is the most fascinating violinist on Earth. There is nothing she can't play to perfection and she constantly challenges herself. This concert, part of Salonen's swan song as he departed the LA Phil after one of the most influential and successful tenures ever in the history of American orchestras, was a primer on what classical music is and where it's going. Salonen's Violin Concerto, dedicated to Josefowicz, Ligeti's Clocks and Beethoven's 5th Symphony were flawlessly performed with gusto and meaning. Two artists that should not be missed when they hit your town.

Urban Opera's Dido and Aeneas: The little company that could, and did. This new company rising out of the ashes of San Francisco Lyric Opera, took everyone by surprise this summer by giving us something different, unique, and indigenous to the City. We can only hope for more from Chip Grant and the incredible team he put together for what was one of the most delightful surprises of the year. Come on, Urban Opera- do it again!

August: Osage County: Three hours of the most theatrical dysfunctional family values since Who's Afraid of Virgina Wolff? By turns uproariously funny and frightening. Estelle Parsons can come to a party at my house anytime- hopefully in character, because I love that kind of drama though I always feel bad the next morning. Tracy Letts' play lived up to the Tony hype and then some.

San Francisco Opera's Il Trovatore : For my money, Trovatore is 2nd rate Verdi, but when it's done like this there is nothing to complain about. Sondra Radvanovsky gave a star turn in a production that was perfect at every turn, bringing this tired warhorse to life in a way I thought couldn't be done. The rest of the all-star cast and the superb sets by Charles Edwards made the conservative era of SFO under Gockley more than palatable. If this is what the future looks like for SFO, so be it.

Paulina Rubio at the Fox Theater: Paulina in a great venue, up close and very personal touring in support of Gran City Pop- one of the year's most delighful records. Pure pop bliss.

San Francisco Opera's La Fille du Regiment: Diana Damrau and Juan Diego Florez made me realize I actually do like Donizetti, at least when he's done like this. The pair combined to deliver an evening of vocal beauty and comedic timing in one of the most perfect bel canto evenings I've ever experienced. It left me wanting more, more, more.

La Damnation de Faust at the Met: Robert Lepage's production is a thrilling spectacle. He and Freyer are taking opera in an entirely new direction. The singing on the night I went didn't quite measure up to the production values at hand, but if this is the future, I want to be seated up front. Give kudos to Peter Gelb and the Met for putting on an audacious and thrilling Faust. Lepage's upcoming Ring cycle, like LAO's, is not to be missed based on the sheer brilliance of invention and imagination on display here.

Other performances that gave these a run for their money:

SFO's Porgy and Bess
KISS's Alive 35
Nadja Michael in SFO's Salome
Nino Machaidze in LAO's Elixir of Love
Fela!
With appreciation to Deborah Voigt, a very gracious and talented singer:

And finally, to KD- who would have guessed this moment would lead to so many others...

Salonen & Leila Josefowicz Thrill Disney Hall

There's an ocean of ink being spilled over Esa-Pekka Salonen's departure as music director of the LA Philharmonic and if you've never seen this man lead this orchestra you've missed an opportunity to experience music performed at the highest level. Friday's performance of the penultimate program featured Ligeti's Clocks and Clouds, Beethoven's 5th Symphony and the world premiere of Salonen's own Violin Concerto, written for visiting soloist Leila Josefowicz. It was one of the best concerts I've ever seen.

Clocks and Clouds was pure Ligeti- haunting, compelling and strange but beautiful. The Women of the Los Angeles Master Chorale provided gorgeous harmonics to accompany the orchestra's perfect rendition of Ligeti's aural depiction of Dali's melting clocks dissolving into wispy clouds. Or something like that. Salonen, under which the LA Phil first performed this piece in 1993 (six other Ligeti pieces have been introduced during his tenure) was completely in control of this difficult work, guiding the orchestra with fluid hand movements.

Next came the four-part Violin Concerto, written for Leila Josefowicz, which was only completed last month- so close to the premiere the notes on the piece had to be inserted into the program. That Josefowicz committed this hugely demanding piece to memory in such a short time and played it with thrilling brilliance, solidifies my opinion of her as one of today's top-tier musicians. She's in a class by herself.

Salonen's program notes describe this music better than I can, so I'll leave that to him, but Josefowicz was a woman on fire. Her left hand stalked her violin's neck like a tarantula loaded on adrenaline and crack, playing with an intensity that was thrilling to watch and hear. She tore through the fast parts and then the orchestra's strings would answer her in huge sweeping swell of minor chords. The use of a full drum kit in the 3rd movement, Pulse II was an exhilarating addition. The orchestra was marvelous throughout, especially the bass and horn players. The only time I can remember being so enthralled by a new work was at the premier of John Adams' El Nino.

During the intermission I wondered how Beethoven's 5th was going to work after what preceded it. I remembered a performance I once attended in SF where Temirkanov led the SFS through a blazing account on Shostakovitch's 8th, then followed it with the 5th and Beethoven actually seemed puny in the comparison rather than complimentary. The programming worked however. The LA Phil performed the 5th as a kind of straightforward, this needs no fuss from us because it's already perfect showcase of how well this orchestra can play. The tempos were consistent, every nuance emerged but was never fussy or precious. There were no winks, nothing cute. Just musical muscle being flexed. They made Beethoven sound relevant and contemporary.

There were well-deserved standing ovations after every piece. Hopefully KUSC will re-broadcast it and if they do, don't miss it. A lot of the LA Phil's live work is also able on Itunes. This was only third time I've seen Salonen conduct the LA Phil. The previous times were the Tristan Project two years ago and a Beethoven's 9th awhile back. These performances rank among the very best I've ever had the pleasure of experiencing.

And so a great era concludes this week.

Leila Josefowicz & James Gaffigan with the San Francisco Symphony

Saturday night's San Francisco Symphony concert was the first time I've seen the orchestra led by James Gaffigan. Now I feel like a total latecomer to a great party who arrives just as it's breaking up, for Gaffigan is soon headed for other locales after three years here as Associate Conductor. Gaffigan conducted this performance with control and precision. He's one of those rare conductors whom one can watch and know exactly where the music is headed, without theatrics or ambiguity. I, for one, really like that.

The first piece was Haydn's Symphony No. 52, oddly enough being played for the first time by the SFS. I guess when a composer has more than 100 symphonies to choose from it can take awhile to get to some of the lesser-known ones. I don't consider myself to be a tremendous Haydn enthusiast but I do love the clean, crisp precision of his music. Even pieces I'm unfamiliar with have an almost unmistakable quality about them which make them easily identifiable as being his.

This symphony treads the border between Baroque and Classical styles, especially in the second movement's adante, and thankfully, since I'm not a huge fan of Baroque music it falls more on the classical side. The fourth movement was played with an almost incredible speed and fluidity by the orchestra, yet everything emerged with impressive clarity.

For the second piece Leila Josefowicz came onstage looking, and there's simply no other way to put this, incredibly hot. Thankfully she had her hair pulled into a girlish ponytail, otherwise she would have looked more like a runway model than a musician and I would have been distracted throughout a knockout performance of Thomas Ades' brilliant but difficult Concentric Paths concerto. This three part work, with two fast, short movements framing a slow middle, allows the violinist almost no respite. The slow movement, entitled Paths was the center around which Rings and Rounds revolved. Riddled with a sense of unease and angst, with sudden percussive barks coming at unexpected moments, this music is simultaneously gorgeous and scary.

Josefowicz attacked this piece with intensity and verve. All the more impressive because on her current tour she is performing 10 different concertos by 9 composers ranging from Beethoven to Salonen. She played with fierce dedication. I couldn't help but wonder how she's committed so many works to memory. The SFist has an interesting interview with her where she remarks about her preference for memorizing scores for a performance. Consider me a fan.

After the intermission, Gaffigan led a crystal clear account of Mozart's Symphony No. 39, which at one point had me unintentionally smiling. I looked around the audience to see if I was the only one who was being completely carried away by this performance. I wasn't- I could see smiles throughout the hall. James Gaffigan- best wishes on your next endeavors, and please come back soon.

A busy week ahead in LA

Tonight I'm going to the San Francisco Symphony to hear conductor James Gaffigan and violinist Leila Josefowicz perform Ades' Concentric Paths violin concerto along with some Mozart and Haydn. Take a look at SF Mike's illuminating interview of Gaffigan last week- worthwhile reading.

Next week I'm in LA, and I'll see Josefowicz performing Esa-Pekka Salonen's new violin concerto, dedicated to her, with the LA Philharmonic on Friday. Unlike most touring guest musicians, Josefowicz is playing different works in different cities, not just doing the same piece at every stop. I really admire that and I'm looking forward to seeing her in two very different environments.

While in LA I'm also going to be seeing LA Opera's Die Walkure on Wednesday and Walter Braunfels' The Birds (Die Vogel) on Saturday. I have it on good authority from someone who has seen a dress rehearsal that Walkure is going to be fantastic. I certainly am anticpating this to be the case, as anyone who has read this blog knows how much I loved LA's Das Rheingold. This week may be the highlight of the entire year for me, performance-wise, and I'm greatly looking forward to it.

The LA Phil date is a matinee (11 AM!) so if you live in LA and have a suggestion for a Thursday or Friday night performance you think is worth checking out do let me know. Otherwise, I'll probably make a trip over to Pink's and indulge my chili dog habit- one that I unfortunately can't indulge here in San Francisco because one simply cannot get a decent chili dog anywhere in this City- and that is a damn shame.