A Clever Musician Does Double Duty

Salzburg, Austria — In my first dispatch from the Salzburg Festival this year, I mentioned that 2007 is rather different from 2006. Last year, we had the mother of all Mozart blowouts — it was his 250th birthday. This year is more normal, with a balance of composers. But the hometown boy is far from forgotten.

Indeed, every Saturday and Sunday morning, the festival puts on what it calls "Mozart Matinées." They are held at the Mozarteum, appropriately enough, and they offer the music of one, and just one, composer: you-know-who.

In charge of last weekend's Mozart Matinée was zoltán Kocsis, the Hungarian musician. He is (at least) two things in life: one of the greatest pianists of our time; and a conductor. he performed in both capacities at the Mozarteum.

Along with Iván Fischer, Mr. Kocsis founded the Budapest Festival Orchestra. This was in 1983. And 15 years later, he was named general music director of the Hungarian National Philharmonic. Over the weekend, he conducted the Mozarteum Orchestra of Salzburg.

And he (or someone) organized his concert in a very clever way: G minor, G major, G major, G minor. He began with Mozart's Symphony no. 25; then he played the Piano Concerto no. 17 (conducting from the keyboard); then he conducted the serenade known as "Eine kleine Nachtmusik" ("A Little night Music"); and he concluded with Mozart's penultimate symphony: no. 40.

As I said, very clever.

Mr. Kocsis looks essentially the same as he always has, with his big, bushy hair. The hair is gray now, and the face may be a little lined. (I might note that Mr. Kocsis looks rather like bill Clinton, the former president.) But Mr. Kocsis still has the air of the wunderkind.

Speaking of wunderkinds, Mozart's Symphony no. 25 is a superb piece. And, on Saturday morning, Mr. Kocsis conducted it very well. He was decisive — emphatic — yet beautiful. He was crisp and correct, with his tempos on the fast side. But he shunned any "period practice" extremism. This was real music-making.

I have said that tempos tended to be fast, and that is true, but the second movement — Andante — was a little slow, and maybe just a tad sluggish. Still, it was no disgrace. As for individual orchestra members, the oboist played with such beauty of tone, he may lose his card in the Oboists' union. The hornist, however, will keep his card: he suffered a fumble or three.

Mozart's Piano Concerto no. 17 in g, K. 453, is a special work, even in a special repertory: Mozart's piano concertos are among the greatest works he ever wrote. And Mr. Kocsis did it justice.

He played boldly, robustly — in rather beethoven-like fashion. but he was thoroughly Mozartean. Now and then, Mr. Kocsis was slightly percussive (and the acoustics of the Mozarteum can be unforgiving). This was not especially rounded or lapidary Mozart, such as we get from Stephen hough (for example). But everything Mr. Kocsis did matched: he always maintained evenness of line. He always phrased correctly.

The middle movement of K. 453 is one of the most heavenly things in all of Mozart, and hence in all of music. Mr. Kocsis played it well, but he was just a little plodding, a little mechanical. One judges Mr. Kocsis by a very high standard, however.

And, about the last movement, there could be no arguing: Mr. Kocsis gave it genuine elegance and refinement, as well as pep. This was utterly mature — first-class — Mozart playing.

As the audience applauded, there was an amusing, and somewhat awkward, tug-of-war between Mr. Kocsis and the concertmaster. The concertmaster did not want the orchestra to stand, preferring that Mr. Kocsis bow alone; the pianist-conductor strongly disagreed.

The best thing about "Eine kleine Nachtmusik," after intermission? One learned that one can hear it again. This serenade may be ultra-familiar, and overly familiar; but, when given the right treatment, it is perfectly enjoyable, not tiresome at all. You can, indeed, hear it again.

With the Mozarteum Orchestra, Mr. Kocsis was graceful, measured, and alive. When he was spirited — as he was — he was never obnoxious. The concluding rondo was very fast, but not nutso. Mr. Kocsis, whether at the keyboard or on the podium, embodies wisdom and musicality.

During that rondo, one of the violinists was smiling openly, as he should have been. This was a happy-making performance.

I'm afraid that I could not hear the final G-minor symphony, having to rush to an engagement. but you know the old expression "Second verse, same as the first"? I imagine that Mr. Kocsis conducted the symphony with his Mozart values intact. They say that Mozart is the test of true musicianship. Zoltán Kocsis certainly passes, and then some.