Charlotte Symphony Orchestra, Beethoven & Brahms Concert Review 11/17

At this concert, there were three pieces performed: Overture to The Consecration of the

House and Concerto for Violin and Orchestra in D Major by Ludwig van Beethoven; and

Symphony No. 4 in E Minor by Johannes Brahms. Each was a remarkable piece in its own right,

and violinist Benjamin Bielman was incredible as the soloist in the first half. However, I'd like

to focus in this review on just a few moments which defined the experience for me.

The first piece which the orchestra opened with, Overture to The Consecration of the

House, begins with a stately march. It is written in theme-and-variations, with a firmly Romantic

feel; it was composed in 1822, well into the Romantic period, despite Beethoven's beginnings as

a Classical fixture. Of the three pieces, it was my least favorite (though not at all bad), and I

think the audience agreed, as it was the only one which did not receive a standing ovation. I was

struck immediately by how slowly the march seemed to be dragging at the beginning, not

realizing it would pick up quite suddenly partway through. As it did begin to move, however,

the orchestra clearly struggled to keep upfor a few moments there were two separate tempos in

the high and low strings, respectively, and it became immediately clear why the director had

opted to take the piece so slowly.

It was still a perfect choice of opening piece, however; not so long that it would

overshadow the following pieces, and yet whole within itself, being an overture to a larger work.

This makes sense as it was originally intended for the Viennese public, who would attend plays

without great knowledge of musical structure.

The second piece, Concerto for Violin and Orchestra in D Major, was composed,

according to the program, at "breakneck speed" for Franz Clement's benefit concert in 1806.

This falls almost precisely into the muddy area between the Romantic and Classical periods, and
elements of both are clearly presentwhich is probably why it was quite unpopular upon its

debut before the Viennese elite, who were obsessed with Classical constraints and rules. It

adheres to strict sonata form, but features an unusual amount of interplay between soloist and

orchestra, with which soloist Bielman kept up perfectly. Bielman also chose to perform

Christian Tetzlaff's cadenza at the end of the first movement, which stuck out to me as highly

unusual. It utilizes a number of techniques found nowhere else in the piece, including double

and triple stops, swing eighths, and a duet with timpani (props to timpanist Leonardo Soto). It

isn't even particularly long and doesn't showcase the player's talents as well as other cadenzas he

could have chosen. I loved it.

Bielman later proved himself the master of understatement, humility and grace by pulling

a page from Arabella Steinbacher's book for his encore: Largo from Bach's violin sonata in C

major. As a soloist, his runs were not technically perfect, the notes becoming muddled around

the middle of the neck, and his bow also had a tendency to fly off the strings and hit multiple

strings at once. But this is only because he plays with a passion that is simply a joy to watch. He

has a habit of stamping his forward foot quite audibly upon attacking a particularly difficult run.

His entire posture and demeanor starkly contrasts other, more technically flawless soloists,

making them sound robotic and hollow in comparison.

The orchestra's closing piece, Symphony No. 4 in E Minor, was the audience's clear

favorite, and the players', too, it seemed. On multiple occasions the timpanist could be seen

nodding along to the rhythm during multiple bars of rest, and at one point, the conductor even

jumped into the air to cue a major entrance. The last two movements in particular, allegro

giacoso and allegro energetico e passionato, were breathtaking. Brahms wrote this symphony in

1885, in the middle of the Romantic period, and as such was allowed to take a few liberties with
its loose sonata form. Had it been written a few decades earlier, it may not have been so well

beloved by the Viennese, who according to the program applauded after each movement at its

1897 showing, less than a month before Brahms' death.

The triangle may have been a bit over miced in the third movement, but this only added

character to the performance, and I'm glad I did not attend on a subsequent night when that

"issue" might have been fixed. The end of each movement and the last two in particular was

decidedly final, with more than four bars of cadence in the last one, which made it an excellent

closing piece. It was technically far more perfect than the opening and even Beethoven's

concerto, despite being a significantly more challenging piece. Being something of a Brahms

fan, hearing one of his more obscure works rendered so beautifully with such passion was an

absolute joy. Passion was a theme of this concert as a whole, and it made the entire experience

that much more worthwhile.