CONCERT REVIEW: Mullova, Jarvi bring fresh sound to Ravinia
By Michael Cameron
Chicago Tribune, August 10, 2005
How do you make a program fresh when it includes two of the great monuments of orchestral literature? If you play it safe with tried and true interpretations, you're lambasted for cookie-cutter caution. If you aim for novelty, you're taken to task for willful iconoclasm or studied mannerism.
Rarely, the finest musicians so internalize a score that questions of traditional habits become moot. In Beethoven's Violin Concerto at Ravinia on Monday, conductor Paavo Jarvi and violinist Viktoria Mullova favored brisk tempos but managed to avoid the breathlessness in long forms that can be so numbing. Communication was paramount, and among conductor, soloist, and players of the Deutsche Kammerphilharmonie Bremen, the eye contact and body language yielded a coherent and engrossing performance.
Mullova has been a presence on world stages for 20 years. Oddly, this is her first appearance at Ravinia. Management would do well to snare her again soon.
She strolled on stage with calm confidence and easy poise, and once the fiddle hit the chin, she was all business. Her avoidance of interpretive perfume or musical aerobics could be misread as emotional distance, but nothing could be further from the truth. Mullova may be the most elegant, refined and sweetly expressive violinist on the planet.
Her sound is lustrous and suave with no hint of strain in any register. One could hope for more flexibility during big transitions, but the structural point was achieved by more subtle means--tone, vibrato and endless shades of dynamics. In the second movement, the fiendish arpeggios in the stratosphere never sounded so effortless.
The finale is a dance that usually evokes a peasant stumbling out of a pub. With Jarvi and Mullova, it was graceful skipping in a meadow.
Younger conductors often borrow ideas, including a close adherence to Beethoven's written metronome marks. Jarvi was no exception in the Symphony No. 3, choosing a lively pace that highlighted long threads. As in the concerto, structural touchstones were not announced by pulling on the reins. Yet the divisions were clear, often with striking changes in character from old melody to new.
Jarvi made a splash with his appearance last year with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, and he is scheduled to appear again in April. It would be tragic if he didn't make it to the short list in their music director search.
Chicago Tribune, August 10, 2005
How do you make a program fresh when it includes two of the great monuments of orchestral literature? If you play it safe with tried and true interpretations, you're lambasted for cookie-cutter caution. If you aim for novelty, you're taken to task for willful iconoclasm or studied mannerism.
Rarely, the finest musicians so internalize a score that questions of traditional habits become moot. In Beethoven's Violin Concerto at Ravinia on Monday, conductor Paavo Jarvi and violinist Viktoria Mullova favored brisk tempos but managed to avoid the breathlessness in long forms that can be so numbing. Communication was paramount, and among conductor, soloist, and players of the Deutsche Kammerphilharmonie Bremen, the eye contact and body language yielded a coherent and engrossing performance.
Mullova has been a presence on world stages for 20 years. Oddly, this is her first appearance at Ravinia. Management would do well to snare her again soon.
She strolled on stage with calm confidence and easy poise, and once the fiddle hit the chin, she was all business. Her avoidance of interpretive perfume or musical aerobics could be misread as emotional distance, but nothing could be further from the truth. Mullova may be the most elegant, refined and sweetly expressive violinist on the planet.
Her sound is lustrous and suave with no hint of strain in any register. One could hope for more flexibility during big transitions, but the structural point was achieved by more subtle means--tone, vibrato and endless shades of dynamics. In the second movement, the fiendish arpeggios in the stratosphere never sounded so effortless.
The finale is a dance that usually evokes a peasant stumbling out of a pub. With Jarvi and Mullova, it was graceful skipping in a meadow.
Younger conductors often borrow ideas, including a close adherence to Beethoven's written metronome marks. Jarvi was no exception in the Symphony No. 3, choosing a lively pace that highlighted long threads. As in the concerto, structural touchstones were not announced by pulling on the reins. Yet the divisions were clear, often with striking changes in character from old melody to new.
Jarvi made a splash with his appearance last year with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, and he is scheduled to appear again in April. It would be tragic if he didn't make it to the short list in their music director search.
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