HRO

Two years ago the HRO commanded more attention and respect than any Harvard musical organization. James Yannatos was new as conductor. The best instrumentalists belonged as a matter of course and were envied for their positions. HRO concerts were keenly anticipated musical events, and the orchestra matched expectations with uniformly impressive programs. In a single concert, they might have played Berlioz's "Roman Carnival" Overture, Bartok's Concerto for Orchestra, and Beethoven's Seventh. All Sanders was rapt, and one distinctly felt that something important was happening.

Friday night was the first HRO concert I've gone to in about a year. I was looking forward to hearing the group again, especially with the program they had prepared. But the concert was oddly disappointing. The orchestra is better than it has been in the past, more sure of itself technically, and more capable of dynamic contrast. But there was something missing--a spark of enthusiasm, a sense of excitement.

The concert opened with the Vivaldi Concerto Grosso in D minor. A reduced HRO was ripieno--perhaps not reduced enough, since the string sound was still too lush for the style of the piece. In spite of numbers, however, the texture was clean and transparent; the violins showed good sectional discipline and accomplished exhilarating effects of terrace dynamics. Violin soloists Edgar Engelman and Marilyn Malpass had just enough brilliance and energy for Vivaldi and were effective in spite of some nervousness. 'Cellist, Martha Babcock handled her part efficiently, but was dry and weak compared to the others.

Luigi Dallapiccola's Dialoghi for 'cello and orchestra (1960) was the most important work on the program; Friday night marked the U.S. (if not the world) premiere of the piece--even conductor Yannatos was not sure which. The strings were further reduced, making way for the wind section and a panoramic display of percussion instruments.

The work is written in an intense, epigrammatic twelve-tone style. There is a constant alternation of various solo instruments as the material reverberates from one timbre to another. The 'cello engages in running dialogue with the various soloists, remaining on equal footing with the instruments that happen to be playing at any given moment. Except for the fact that the 'cello plays more often than any other instrument, the work is more a concerto for orchestra than a vehicle for the 'cello.

This put 'cellist Joel Krosnick in a rather odd position. His solution was to play as a member of the orchestra instead of as a soloist--a telling sign of musicianship. His playing was precise and controlled, and he gave an admirable rendering of the wide variety of 'cellistic effects called for by the composer.

There is a great deal of Italian lyricism in the piece, which Krosnick was sensitive enough to bring out. Yannatos and the HRO are to be lauded for mounting a performance of this highly complex work. One only hopes for further opportunities to hear and understand it.

Brahms' Symphony No.3 in F must have been planned as the Big Romantic Conclusion, but it was the weakest and most disappointing part of the program. For the first time the full resources of the HRO were deployed, and they were unwieldy. Ensemble was generally bad, and the orchestra rarely got below a non-commital mezzo volume which sapped the climaxes of their drama and surprise. The typically aloof wind section was adamantly sharp throughout, as if they were under no obligation to listen to the strings. In spite of difficulty in the high register, the upper strings produced a rich sound when they decided to play together as a section. But in their big moment, at the beginning of the third movement, the 'cellos didn't soar--they wilted.

Lack of orchestral blend, sluggish tempi, square, measure-bound phrasing, and the acoustical recalcitrance of Sanders Theatre all prevented the Symphony's ever getting off the ground. And one should not be left unenthralled by Brahms.