Time was, the end of June would have been long past the end of the musical season. Now, happily, music lovers are not so deprived; hence, the San Francisco Symphony regaled its patrons with a fine series the week before the Fourth of July, and with a first - rate American maestro at that. David Robertson is well known here - he first led the Symphony in 1997 - and currently directs the St. Louis Symphony. Mr. Robertson's program featured the music of Central European composers ( Poland, the Czech Republic ) , in works to which he brought his customary vigor and polish. The opening work was the only one not likely to elicit enthusiasm from the audience. I heard Witold Lutoslawski conduct his "Mi - parti" here in 1991; it made no more sense to me this time than the last. The untranslatable French title refers to the freedom given to the players, at certain defined moments, to play whatever they want. It sounds, and I suppose is meant to sound, like a jumble. This is experimental music which certainly deserves a hearing. You just as certainly don't have to like it. The piece was mercifully short and received what we call polite applause.
Things looked up with Janacek's "Taras Bulba," based on a Gogol novella about a Ukrainian Cossack and his heroic exploits. It's hard to believe that Janacek's music, which today is part of the standard repertory, was until recently almost unknown. "Taras Bulba," which dates from 1924, is full of vivid orchestral color and refulgent harmonies, and is typical of the composer's exciting dramatic style.
Janacek was a committed modernist with a keen sensitivity to the world around him. The third movement includes a few bars right out of a Scott Joplin ragtime piece. ( A little tyke sitting in front of me turned around and gave his mom a gleeful look of recognition. ) But more than anything else, Janacek's music is strikingly original, belonging to no established camp, whether serialist or neo - romantic.
Mr. Robertson drew wonderful sounds from the orchestra, by turns beguiling and warlike. The very prominent brass sections were never strident, and the lyrical string passages flowed with strength as well as sweetness.
What is so striking about this conductor's work is his capacity to center everyone's attention on the score rather than on himself. He is clearly a strong leader but not a showy one. It is less a question of self - effacement than one of serious commitment to the music alone. Quite an achievement.
The evening ended with Dvorak's cello concerto. Not so long ago it was played here, unforgettably, by Mstislav Rostropovich. It takes great courage for a young artist to follow in such footsteps, and Alissa Weilerstein proved herself equal to the task. She has a strong, full tone and a keen musical sense. There was no need to make invidious comparisons.
What does need repeating is that great classics never grow stale; every exposure to them is a revelation of deeper riches. Dvorak embraced the German Romantic tradition as would any composer of his time, yet his devotion to his Czech roots makes itself felt on every page, and springs fresh and new in any loving performance, which this certainly was. A composer has to be what he is; hence Puccini's Butterfly may look Japanese, but she sounds fully Italian, and Dvorak is a Czech even in his "American" quartet and his New World Symphony. To recognize that is to understand why the joy of music is ever ancient, ever new.
Father Basil DePinto is a
frequent contributor on the arts.
