Yuja Wang: No more questions

It's easy to be distracted by her extraordinarily high heels and even shorter dresses; by her speed, her  youth, her curves, and the sometimes shocking amount of force emanating from such a petite person. A sexist perspective? No doubt, but sex is part of the package and for past couple of years Yuja Wang's gotten pretty far with it. Exploiting culture's more prurient side with seemingly little effort while appearing mostly indifferent to all the noise, she just kept doing her thing, touring and performing around the world. People asked questions, she answered. She performed, they gawked. Houses filled with expectant buzzes for her performances. People became interested. They talked about her. She's become the one classical musician many people can probably name besides Yo-Yo Ma.

However, an  impolite question began to linger in my mind after each dazzling performance: is she really that good, or is the hype around Yuja a case of classical razzle-dazzle? Would these performances have the same impact if the person onstage was an unnattractive woman in a boring dress or a middle-aged schlub in a tux? How much of her reputation is built on sex-appeal? That's she's tremendously talented is beyond question- don't think I'm implying anything to the contrary- but there are many highly skilled performers who aren't chosen to be in ads for Rolex watches. Granted, she's not the only classical musician sporting the watch but even on Rolex's site the hype for her grander than that of her peers: "The technique of a master. The imagination of a genius."

Is it true? 

After attending her first solo recital at Davies Symphony Hall last night, I would say yes, it is.

Though I arrived on time at Margarita's apartment, she was naked when she opened the door, deliberately so, and we ended up taking our seats at precisely 8:00 PM. I didn't mind cutting it so close. At 8:05 Yuja strode onstage in six-inch heels wearing the same red dress she wore when I saw her perform Rachmaninoff's 3rd with the orchestra in June of last year. I have to admit that was a bit disappointing. I thought fashionistas kept databases on this sort of thing to avoid repeats. Isn't that a rule? Never be seen in the same dress, at least at the same place, twice? The second time around it has less impact, so I actually did pay close attention, often with my eyes closed, on what I was actually hearing.

Her account of Prokofiev's Sonata No. 3 was played completely at the edges- either extremely fast, breathtakingly so at points, and with great force, or gorgeously slow, with impeccable nuance and control. She followed this with the beginning of a long foray into Chopin, performing his Sonata No. 3. Later would come the Nocturne in C Minor. and the Ballade No. 3.  I became lost at some point during all of this Chopin, as it dawned on for the first time really, truly and deeply, how much of a fucking genius he was: how incredibly modern-sounding and ahead of its time his music is. I've listened to a lot of Chopin, and I've never heard him performed in a manner which brought out these modernist-sounding elements.

When she returned to the stage Yuja had on a different dress obviously by the same designer (both feature a vertical panel running down the backside which at the right angle creates a fantastically curved silhouette- a plus for a performer with a penchant for raising her right haunch off the bench as she performs). This number was black, with a matte skirt below sparkly top, separated by a peek-a-boo gash above the right hip. Neither I nor Margarita liked it at all. It looked like something a young woman from the suburbs would wear for a night of clubbing in San Francisco at a club filled with other suburbanites out for a night of clubbing in San Francisco (like this place).

So when she sat down and began playing Nikolai Kasputin's Variations for Piano, Opus 41 I was lost, thinking she has just decided to wing it and play an unknown-to-me variation on Gershwin. You see, I didn't read the program notes, and Yuja decided to change the order of the selections from what was printed. Always read the program notes beforehand, people. If I had, I would have realized what I was mistaking for a Gershwin theme was actually inspired by Stravinsky's Rite, which I've heard in so many guises over the past year it's come to sound like everything. I was expecting classical, and what I was hearing was drenched in jazz. Soon I stopped caring what it was, mesmerized by the sound, this dense, lush, rumbling collision of two genres without preference of one over the other. It's an amazing piece  (Marc-Andre Hamelin has recorded it).  You really must hear it- listen to this. But the point was that Yuja Wang was playing jazz and doing it like she was Brad Mehldau.

Had she stopped here the recital could have easily been seen as a triumph, but what came next was one of those rare moments that concert-goers live for. A performance of Stravinsky's Three Movements from Petrushka that was so exciting you could feel it taking root in the audience, then spreading through it so that by the time she made her way through the final movement of the Shrovetide Fair there was a sense of electricity coursing through the hall. Something truly special had just taken place. For her efforts she received one of the most sustained (and deserved) standing ovations I've ever seen in the hall. She encored with Art Tatum's arrangement of Tea for Two (like the red dress, a repeat from last June), Horowitz's Carmen Variations, and Kocsis' arrangement of Rachmaninoff's Vocalise.

She also definitively answered my impolite question with the best possible response, which was to make me wonder how I ever had the temerity to ask it in the first place.

Yuja plays Beethoven

How much time do you have? Photo by Rolex/Fadil Berisha

The Center Terrace section at Davies is always interesting people watching. The only regular I espied last night was the drooper in the golf hat, who always sits in the same aisle seat, legs sharply crossed, head hanging down as if he's sleeping, which I'm pretty sure he isn't. But last night an exceptional array came out, no doubt to see what Yuja Wang would do with Beethoven's 4th Piano Concerto. There was this guy, resurrected and now wearing a saffron suit in place of a robe, and this guy, who turned out to be a woman on closer inspection, this guy, who's traded in his tux for a bearish lumberjack in a flannel shirt look, and two dowagers dressed to the nines sitting in the center of it all, one of whom kept looking around as if asking herself what had become of all of her peers.

Samuel Carl Adams must feel pretty good right now. Back in October the Symphony premiered his new (and first) work for the orchestra, which they also commissioned- a piece called Drift and Providence, which received good notices and silenced anyone who thought some nepotism may have been somehow involved in this coup for such a young and seemingly inexperienced composer, who has a famous father named John. And here they are, playing it again on a highly popular program featuring the red-hot Yuja, whose appearances nowadays are almost guaranteed sell-outs. Well, I liked the piece the first time I heard it, and I like it as much the second time, where it's form became really apparent and surprisingly easy to digest, though I don't think that's because it's simple music. For some reason, I just started following the tri-tones in it, which actually reminded me of Black Sabbath's eponymous song from their eponymous debut album, which has actually been on my mind lately, but that's another story altogether.

As it opening "Embarcadero" section was unfurling I realized this piece would make the perfect accompaniment to the new light show on the Bay Bridge. Like it was the first time I heard it, we had already drifted into the "Drift 1"section before I realized we had done so. During the Divisadero section, I enjoyed the sound of the lighthouse's foghorns, though it felt incongruous attached to a section with such a name. Somewhere along this section the the man in the saffron suit looked toward heaven, his mouth agape, and never moved again for the remainder of the evening- as if he had suddenly froze in a moment of religious ecstasy or anticipation.

Yuja Wang came onstage wearing a richly-hued purple gown that almost looked sapphire blue, gathered in the back to give her a surprisingly Kardashian-like silhouette, with a crepe-like lower half and black, five-inch, patent leather spike heels that looked divinely painful.

She bowed deeply and from behind the bench, which for some reason struck me as odd, and then sat down. For me, the interesting thing about these concerts was what she would sound like performing a more nuanced, thoughtful piece like this one instead of the finger-busting Rachmaninoffs, Prokofievs and Bartoks we usually hear her perform. A piece that required, well, for lack of a better way to put it, a more intellectual interpretation than a physical one.

MTT helped shape the interpretation by having the orchestra play a gorgeous, sensitive accompaniment that brought the heroic romanticism of it to the fore. Yuja followed, though she exploded a little harshly over the faster parts of the first movement and I detected more than a couple of mistakes from her left hand. That's not a bad thing- she was making calculations and taking risks. Some paid off, others didn't, and if the general impression she left is that she can play anything, she also left me thinking perhaps she should take on this particular piece in another ten years when she can feel it more acutely rather than think her way through it. Her sensitive playing during the second movement changed my mind a bit, except when she would abruptly pull her feet off the pedal. Seeing her take it on at this stage of here career will make it interesting to see what she does with similar pieces in the future- there's no doubt Yuja Wang will be drawing audiences for a long time.

Brahms' Symphony No. 1 followed the intermission, and though I have tried, dear reader, to understand what people find so wonderful about Brahms, I just can't seem to find that particular door. Brahms bores me, and though the second movement featured an exquisite performance by Concertmaster Alexander Barantschik, I found myself happy for all the wrong reasons when it was over.

Note, if you are attending the Friday night concert, Davies After Hours will feature Tin Hat, a really great band featuring the brilliant Carla Kihlstedt- make sure to check them out. Most of the seats for this series are gone, but call the box office for turn backs or see what's available online here.

Listen to her

There are a few (very few) tickets left to see Yuja Wang perform Beethoven's Piano Concerto No. 4 this week with the San Francisco Symphony. If you were thinking of going you should get a ticket now. Also on the bill are Samuel Carl (son of John) Adams' Drift and Providence and Brahms' Symphony No. 1. The Adams work, a commission by the Symphony, premiered in October to good reviews, including my own.

Yuja Rachs it again

Something special is developing between pianist Yuja Wang, Michael Tilson Thomas, and the San Francisco Symphony. She's appearing more frequently than just once a year now, and her appearances have taken on the "buzz" of being an event. Saturday night she popped in for a one-off performance of Rachmaninoff's Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini and she'll return on Halloween night to play Prokofiev's Second Piano Concerto. Rachmaninoff's 2nd Symphony is also on the program, which continues for two additional nights with Lang Lang playing the Prokofiev 3rd. It's a going to be a good week at Davies for Russian music.

I wonder what it must have been like to hear Rachmaninoff's Rhapsody the first time it was performed in public in 1934, in Baltimore, with the composer as soloist with the Philadelphia Orchestra, conducted by Stokowski (he was also the soloist the first time it was performed here in San Francisco), long before the music was over-used in film soundtracks to the point where it became a source of parody for "romantic music." I imagine the audience must have been dumbstruck by the beauty in the score. It's still there, but at this point, like one must do with certain Beethoven symphonies, Ravel's Bolero and Vivaldi's Four Seasons, it takes some effort to block out the music's contemporary associations and take it on its own terms once more. It's worth it however, because its absolutely gorgeous, inventive music, and as the late Michael Steinberg points out in the concert's program notes, full of darkness which only make it all the more alluring.

Wang and MTT made this easy to do, in what was perhaps their best performance together at Davies so far, with an outing that was precise without being fussy and brimming with passion. Wang's past concerts here have always been a mix of undeniably superb technique coupled with an underlying question mark about how deep her heart was into of the matter at hand. She dazzles, and brilliantly, but she doesn't smolder. At least I would have said that before this performance, where she went through each of the work's variations with equal intensity and without her propensity to overwhelm. Tilson Thomas and the orchestra were right there with her all the way. There was no encore, which surprised me because the applause for Wang was tumultuous. There was, however, waving of orange towels signalling the Giants had won the game.

The second half of the concert featured Mahler's Fifth Symphony, which the orchestra just performed a month ago in a subscription series. This outing felt less cohesive overall, though principals  Mark Inouye and Tim Higgins were both in exceptional form this evening and MTT seemed pretty loose, waving goodbye to a couple seated in the front of the orchestra section who departed after the second movement. And yes, since I must comment on what Wang the fashion icon was wearing, it was a long, red, backless gown with extremely sexy black platform slingbacks. She looked great, but the real fashion statement this time was displayed on the keys. So much so in fact, this post doesn't even need a photograph of her.

Yuja Wang Rachs a little red dress

Of course I am going to start with the dress because it would be impolite to do otherwise.  After all, if you don’t think that, yes, she does want us to notice, discuss, and think about what she’s wearing, you’re missing the point of why she’s wearing it.  It was again red (she does look great in red), but a deeper, warmer shade than last year’s model, with horizontal pleats similar to those of a cummerbund running its length, the hemline stopping well above the knee but further south on her thigh than the one which caused last year’s ruckus.

It fit like a glove- an expensive, perfectly tailored, hand-sewn glove made of the finest calfskin and it ravished her curves. Ravished them, I tell you! But the most alluring part was the back, which had a wide, vertical seam running down her spine, cinching everything together so the contours of her body were always presented in perfect, high relief. I kid you not, and during the moments when she would lift her right hip slightly off the bench, leaning into the keys, physically giving herself to the performance, carried away by its rhythmic thrust, a most wondrous curved silhouette would take appear. I sat there spellbound, awed, convinced there was no better seat in the entire house.

This is the dress, seen in a photo taken somewhere in Europe in October 2011. The picture doesn't do it justice, but I thought it would be cruel not to provide one. Source: Getty Images/Getty Images Europe.

Yeah, Yuja Wang looked fantastic on Friday night as she slayed Rachmaninoff’s Third Piano Concerto with the San Francisco Symphony, turning in a performance that probably cemented her status as one of the most talented musicians currently playing. So what if she missed some notes and doesn’t burn as intensely as Argerich. What of it?

Wang brought speed, clarity and precision to the extraordinarily difficult passages of the first movement, her fingers and then her hands soon becoming a blur above the keys as she articulated each note. The second movement was gorgeous, so much so that I noticed the orchestra’s musicians craning their necks to watch her- something I’ve never seen them do before. As the second movement flowed into the third, it became obvious she was on a tear, breaking loose from Michael Tilson Thomas’ lead to the extent he glanced over his shoulder as if say, “Whoa.”

But it was too late, Wang was on her way, out there on her own, and though the orchestra sounded wonderful, playing with her in equal volume, instead of behind her, as this score rightfully demands, it was still her show all the way, and even during the sections of the last movement when the soloist and orchestra combine to create those huge waves of Rachmaninoff’s unique romanticism, she could still be heard clearly through it all. If the rolling conclusion didn’t quite deliver on the promise of all that led up to it, it still felt like the final five notes were dispatched with triumphant verve. The applause was huge, as were the smiles onstage and off. She returned for a clever, charming encore of “Tea for Two,” in an arrangement by Art Tatum, which pleased everyone, including MTT, who sat onstage with a look of extreme delight on his face. If she’s this good at this still-early stage of her career, it somewhat mind-boggling to ponder what she’s going to be like ten years from now.

There was more. The first half of the concert began with Faure’s “Pavane”- a bit of pretty-sounding French fluffery which featured principal flute Tim Day quite nicely, and was followed by Sibelius’ Third Symphony, the allegro of which MTT led with a gallant loping, rendering it highly reminiscent of the 2^nd movement scherzo of Beethoven’s 9^th.

This was the first of the final three programs of the Symphony’s Centennial season, and if you missed Wang, there are still two more must-see programs in the next two weeks. The first is a semi-staged performance of Bartok’s Duke Bluebeard’s Castle featuring the fantastic mezzo Michelle DeYoung and the versatile Alan Held in the title role, and those concerts open with Jeremy Denk performing Liszt’s Piano Concerto No. 1. I can’t believe there are tickets available for these performances on Goldstar, but as of today there are, so get yourself one. The final program of the season, for which there are likely few tickets left, has MTT conducting Beethoven’s 9^th, with works by Ligeti and Schoenberg also scheduled. If you can find a ticket, get one. It should be a memorable conclusion to what’s been a marvelous 100^th anniversary season.

Yuja's dress

Updated 08/08/11:

This picture of Yuja Wang was published in the LA Times from a recent Hollywood Bowl concert. She's wearing the same dress I've been yammering on about. Photo by Lawrence Ho of the LA Times.

Since almost every reviewer of Tuesday night's chamber music concert featuring Yuja Wang and members of the San Francisco Symphony has mentioned "the dress" (granted, not with the same enthusiasm of yours truly) I thought it a public service to direct you to the best picture I've been able to find of it

I also shared it on the Facebook page for this blog. Go ahead, "like" it- you know you want to.

Made you look!

Cartoon from The Stranger

First of all, I'd like to apologize to anyone seated on the right side of the front row at Davies last night hoping for a show that never materialized (see my earlier post). I guess I should have kept my mouth shut, because when Yuja Wang walked onstage last night the mini dresses from Tuesday night's performance had been replaced by a full-length, gorgeous purple dress, which was quite ravishing, but certainly not as interesting as what she had on the other night. I'm sure my uncouth previous comments had something to do with this return to staid, if elegant, propriety. I'm very sorry about that.

This was the first concert by the San Francisco Symphony since their return from a successful European tour. The first piece of the night, Bartok's "Romanian Folk Dances" started off with jolt but then the pacing seemed get a bit lax, and I couldn't quite figure out if MTT was going for a gentle, relaxed rhythm or if the orchestra was suffering from a bit of jet-lag. Nevertheless, strong solos came from the usual suspects: Carey Bell, Catherine Payne and Alexander Barantschik.

Wang came out to a great round of applause from the seemingly full house and sat down at the bench. To my surprise she used a score, and though this isn't unheard of, it is rather rare for the featured soloist to play the piece with the score in front of them. But Bartok's 2nd Piano Concerto is a bit of a beast, a fingerbuster, so I get it. There are probably quite a few minefields one could get lost in without a map.

In the first movement Wang played with demonic percussive force, making me wonder about the injury to her arm. She held nothing back, and her hands just flew across the keys, pounding out flurries of notes. There was no applause when the movement ended.

The second movement found Wang again on fire during the little scherzo-like part between the slower adagio tempos which bookend them, but the orchestra fell behind her and all of a sudden I wondered why Bartok was suddenly starting to sound like Bernard Herrmann. This movement drew some applause, but it quickly died. This was certainly a different audience than the one present for Tuesday's concert.

The third movement again seemed to lack precise synchronization between Wang and the orchestra for a good portion of it until the last few moments when they both came together to finish with an exhilarating swoosh, resulting in a climax that was actually felt in the audience as if it was a physical sensation. Seriously. I mean it.

The second half of the concert was Act III of Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake but I have to admit to taking my leave after intermission.

There are three more performances this weekend.

On a side note, I was pleased not to encounter anyone I've slept with at the performance.

What Yuja do to me

I've said it before and I'll say it again. San Francisco is a small town and everyone you meet here you will eventually run into again. What that really means is everyone you sleep with, you will inevitably see again in public. Tonight, after what has been an exhausting, emotional four-day run, capped-off with an hour-and-a-half long conversation this morning with the Femme Fatale about the demise of our affair,  I walked into Davies solo tonight and standing there at the bar with her boyfriend was the Southern Belle- to whom I was once engaged.

Now, I never, ever run into her in the City, despite the fact that she lives only eight blocks uphill from me in the apartment we used to share together. The apartment with views of the Golden Gate Bridge from every room including the bathroom. The apartment with views I'll never, ever, have again. I've run into her before of course, because after we split up she started dating the guy who lives next door to my mother (her current boyfriend), so I often encounter her in Sausalito, but I'm prepared for that when I go over there. We wave to one another from across his yard.

How can one ignore one's ex-fiancee? One can't. So I strode over and said hello to both of them. It was the first time I've actually seen them together as a couple even though they've been together for years (I've met him before without her present- because you see he lives next door to my mother,- you see my mother and my sister have this habit of adopting my ex-girlfriends and turning them into something like extended family members, which made one family wedding particularly interesting and somewhat uncomfortable for me a couple of years ago as I stood there talking with three women I've slept with, who were hell-bent on being all chummy with one another).

Have you ever asked yourself as you read this blog why is he always drinking Manhattans? Well, now you know.

So there we are, this uncomfortable trio, and I realize since he came after me, ahem- in the timeline of her life I mean, he knows much more about me than I do about him and I'm thinking how awful this actually is because I have no idea what it is she's told him about me that is running through his mind at this moment. So instead we talk about the Prince concerts back in February, because the Southern Belle and I naturally have Facebook friends in common and she's aware of certain things about my life I have no idea she is aware of until she starts asking me about them. Fuck I hate Facebook. And it's actually just her and I doing the talking, though I keep looking at him to a) keep him engaged in the conversation and b) make sure I'm not about to get hit in the face with a glass. This goes on for about ten minutes, but it felt much, much longer.

How long has it been since I've seen her at a performance? November, 2005, when CC and I sat directly behind her and my mother (!- I swear this is true!) for a performance of Fidelio at the opera. Why now? Why today of all days?

But enough about the Southern Belle and her boyfriend. Let's talk about women I haven't slept with, but would like to.

Remember not-all-that long ago when people used to make snide comments insinuating Anne-Sophie Mutter wore those beautiful, shoulder-less gowns because by emphasizing her beauty it drew attention from her talent, the implication being her career success had more to do with the former than the latter? Those days are over, and not because Mutter's closing in on 50.

 

 

Now people are going to be talking about what Yuja Wang is wearing. The 24-year-old pianist took to the floor of Davies Symphony Hall tonight in the tightest, shortest dress I've ever seen on that stage. Never mind the fact that is was hot-pink and black. And she had on hot, "fuck me" shoes. And I'm pissed that from where I was seated I couldn't see her at all once she sat down at the piano because the violinists were in my way. And then she changed into a different dress, all-black, maybe a 1/4 inch longer, equally tight, for the second half. And she had on "fuck me" shoes. She looked like she was headed to the Infusion Lounge, somehow got lost along the way, wandered into Davies, and decided to join the musicians onstage for kicks. In other words, she looked really hot.

Okay, enough of that for now, but believe me, you haven't heard the last on the subject. I only wish I had a camera with me. And a year from now I'll want to know how many "Yuja Wang upskirt" queries Google is getting a day. Okay I'm done with that. Really.

This is what she used to wear. Photo by Who Cares?, but look at those shoes!

It's been a couple of years since I last saw Wang perform and she greatly impressed me then, but more so with her technique than with her passion. This concert led me to believe she's maturing into a warmer, more confident performer and while tonight's concert didn't really provide the musical vehicles for a passionate performance, it did show Wang to be evolving as a performer. Tonight's concert was chamber music with members of the San Francisco Symphony, kicking off the second half of Project San Francisco , and the first of five concerts she's appearing in over the next week (a solo recital was cancelled after she recently injured her arm).

The first half of the program was devoted to Dvořák's Quintet in A Major for Piano and Strings, Opus 81. I suspect this ended up on the program because it gave the injured pianist a bit of a break. While not a walk in the park, for the pianist it's not a terribly challenging piece. In fact, the string quartet composed of violinists Yukiko Kurakata and Amy Hiraga, Katie Kadarauch on viola and cellist Peter Wyrick more than held their own against the star performer, each offering individual memorable moments, with the violins overshadowing everyone else with lovely playing during the second movement Dumka. It really wasn't until the fourth movement's allegro finale that Wang took over and her piano lauded it over the ensemble.

The second half of the program featured Brahms' Quintet in F minor for Piano and Strings, Opus 34, and here the audience got to hear Wang take off, dominating the first movement with strong, robust playing. Everything then slowed down for the adante into gorgeous playing by the quartet, especially by violinist Melissa Kleinbart. The third movement scherzo had cellist Amos Yang and viola player Yun Jie Liu stomping their feet in time with the music, they were going at it with such rhythmic force it really felt like rock and roll. Dan Carlson's violin also contributed significantly to the overall strength of this particular quartet. Perhaps it's just my preference, but while there was nothing at all to dislike in the first half's Dvořák, it was the Brahms which made the night truly worth hearing.

Both halves received standing ovations, which are becoming pretty standard responses these days, as is applauding between movements (which happened for the duration of tonight's concert) and while I have to say it was a very good night of music, I think the standing ovation was a bit much. I'll be back for the next concert on Thursday, where Wang will perform the seriously challenging 2nd Piano Concerto by Bartok with the orchestra in a program also featuring Bartok's Romanian Folk Dances and Act III from Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake. I can't wait to see what she's going to wear.

The cool kids take over

Friday night's concert had the buzz of "an event." It was a rare was sell-out, good reviews of the previous performances were widely read and the hall had a palpable sense of anticipation. There was a noticeably larger, diverse contingent of younger people in the audience than one usually encounters at Davies, perhaps in part due to the final "After Hours" event to be held after the concert.

First up was Sibelius's Symphony No. 4. MTT offered a disclaimer of sorts complete with spoilers and samples before starting the music. I'm not the only person in the audience who didn't appreciate this, but we are probably in the minority. I think he should save that stuff for the 6.5 audience. The piece itself was well-performed, with a restraint that must have been difficult to achieve because the opportunities to go overboard are present at almost every turn. The horns sounded especially in sync with the tone of the work, something that hasn't been too common in the concerts I've heard lately, especially in the beautiful, lachrymose 3rd movement, which to my ears sounds very reminiscent of Puccini's "E lucevan le stelle" from Tosca. Tim Day's flute was simply gorgeous.

MTT said in his remarks, somewhat spinning Sibelius' own comments on the work, that "no one is prepared to offer a conclusive answer" as to what the music is about. Written against the idea "program music," Sibelius' 4th is regarded as being "austere" and "severe." I look at it another way: the composer is striving to get out from under Beethoven's shadow and in this piece I think he fails completely. Every movement seems to be written as a direct antithesis of Beethoven's 9th to the point where I found myself distracted by the dialogue the between the two.

The second work of the first half featured a commission by composer/DJ Mason Bates, The B-Sides. Featuring samples of Apollo 5 astronauts, a broom, a typewriter and a large orchestra, Bates manned his laptop as a member of the percussion section and gave the audience a vision of where contemporary classical music may be headed. The percussionists looked pretty happy to have him in their midst, though I sensed a more subdued response from the rest of the orchestra, as if the future had just dropped by unexpectedly and was now seated at the kitchen table and they were unsure if they should ask it to stay for dinner.

MTT was uncharacteristically subdued during the performance and it was hard for me to tell who was leading whom during all but one of the work's five sections. It almost seemed like duelling conductors, but I immensely enjoyed watching the breakdown of the traditional conductor/orchestra barrier. The nature of the work transformed the orchestra into something that was at once more cohesive yet also somewhat unsure of its role. It was a significant performance which I won't soon forget.

As for the music itself, it was pretty engaging, creating a musical kaleidoscope encompassing everything from Beck to Bernard Herrmann, though parts did remind me of the more ambient side of The Art of Noise, especially during "Aerosol Melody." The audience ate it up and gave Bates a huge ovation. I overheard one older gentleman enthusiastically exclaim afterward "now that's what contemporary music should sound like!" I have to say I admire the way Bates can forge a funk groove and make excellent use of a full orchestra in the same piece. Let's have more of this, please.

Yuja Wang joined the orchestra after the intermission to perform Prokofiev's 2nd Piano Concerto. On the orchestral side, the work features many of the elements one likes most about Prokofiev- those spidery, jumpy folk tunes jumping out of that make one want to move with the music without being aware of it. For the pianist it's simply a tour-de-force finger-buster. The cadenzas are two stops beyond over-the-top and could be easily be called gratuitous but that's what makes the piece fun.

Wang performed it with a dexterity and precision that was pretty much mind-boggling to watch and hear. However, I can't say she performed it with a lot of feeling, which may be the downside of being such an immensely talented musician at the age of 22. I would love to hear her perform this piece again at 10 year intervals so we can witness her interpretation being informed by her experiences. She received an extended, very loud, and I'd say well-deserved ovation. She's definitely a star and her future appearances should be considered be must-sees.

This was brilliant programming, and given the tremendous enthusiasm with which it was received, obviously appreciated by the audience. It should be noted far and wide that the most satisfying and electrifying SFS programs of this season have all featured contemporary works and female soloists. The world is changing right in front of us.

The final "After Hours" event of the season was held after the concert, which I'll cover in another post.