The Devil’s Due

Four major operatic efforts of the early 20th century owe their genesis to one work by Hector Berlioz. All four were written with no thought to staging or costumes; rather they exist as theater of the mind, meant to be experienced as adjuncts to the individual listener’s imagination. All four deal with the Faustian dilemma.Two, Hindemith’s “Mathis der Maler” and Pfitzner’s “Palestrina,” explore the deleterious effect on the creator of the flowering of artistic genius. The other two, Busoni’s “Doktor Faust” and the opera scene that is the second movement of Mahler’s Symphony No. 8, deal directly with Goethe’s version of the legend (and have immense instrumental and harmonic similarities).The urtext of all of these theatrical pieces, “The Damnation of Faust,” was performed Saturday evening by the New York Philharmonic under guest conductor Charles Dutoit. Maestro Dutoit is one of the acknowledged living master interpreters of this particular work. He led it just two weeks ago in Atlanta with two of the same soloists as here at Avery Fisher.Mr. Dutoit is so familiar with this opera that he knows it explores mythmaking beyond good and evil. He may, however, be a bit too expert, as his equation of the heavenly with the hellish takes the form of a dynamic equilateralism wherein there is no difference between the dramatic and the mundane. In this conductor’s hands, this normally multifaceted diamond has few rough edges.Relatively early on, in a “Rakoczy March” with little or no instrumental contrasts, I found this approach maddeningly homogenous. There was little distinction between the volume of the final ride on the horse Vortex to the underworld and the more intimate and peaceful scenes such as Faust’s sleep in Part II. Unusually for Berlioz, “Damnation” is almost exclusively a piece for strings; the winds and brass are reduced to an occasional colorful effect. The Philharmonic strings performed yeoman-like service throughout, handling some very tricky syncopations as accompanists to the Devil, but they seemed in many passages simply to be going through the motions.The singing varied in quality but none was exactly inspirational. Paul Groves did a good job as Faust, hitting virtually all of the devilishly difficult high notes in the score. He resorted to falsetto on more than one occasion. His lyric tenor was pushed to the limit and always seemed to be just on the polite side of strained. Sir Willard White started strongly as Mephistopheles but ran out of gas rather quickly. His early, rounded articulation degenerated into breathlessness at several points in the second half of the piece, which was performed at more than two hours without an intermission.Speaking of which, the decision to slog straight through may have released us all at a more decent hour, but the lack of opportunity to retune the ensemble made for some interestingly erratic intonation by the Philharmonic in the Hadean finale. I suppose that, if there has to be a section played out of tune, it might as well accompany the singing of the demons.There were certainly high spots in the vocalism, most especially the Latin duet between White and Groves that begins “Jam non stellata velamina pandit,” but overall the soloists were infected with the same conformity of emotion that emanated from the podium. Susanne Mentzer squandered a golden opportunity to shine, as Marguerite really only has two numbers and they are the best in the entire show. Her “King of Thule” was technically correct but inappropriately comfortable and domestic for such a daring piece of exotic modality and her “D’amour l’ardente flame” was decidedly short on passion. In her defense, this is one of those arias that Callas has forever spoiled for me – no one could ever endow it with so much quivering vitality again.The Westminster Symphonic Choir was weak throughout, often unfocused and poor in articulation. Mostly they sounded a blur or alternatively were simply not a factor. Luckily, there were super titles in “Demon”: The men were inaudible in their big Tartarean scene. The angelic entrance and prepubescent singing of the Brooklyn Youth Chorus, however, was quite sweet.There was an attempt to enliven the proceedings by adopting a theatrical style. Opera in concert is always difficult logistically, and this current-run chose the compromise of white tie concert dress with dramatic gesturing. Some bits worked better than others: Sir Willard, who had been sitting stage center from the beginning, sprang up in a feline manner to appear dangerously close to Mr. Groves in a shadowlike entrance. Not Chaliapin perhaps, but not bad. In fact, “not bad” is not bad as a description of this endeavor as a whole. On this particular evening, I’m afraid, the Devil was not quite given his due.***Two friends were walking down a path in Vienna when they encountered a pair of noblemen approaching from the opposite direction. One friend instinctively stepped off of the road in deference. The other held his ground, exclaiming “You are Goethe, I Beethoven. Let them walk in the mud!”When did Beethoven become Beethoven? That is, when did his art manifest that unique individualism and power that makes him the overriding force in music to this very day, the role that he apparently always knew was his and his alone? The actual beginning of the 19th century is a legitimate point of departure for this genius, the Piano Concerto No. 3 having been composed in the very first months of 1801. But certainly there was a period before this wherein the student from Bonn was still under the influence of Mozart and Haydn. Three works in this early style were presented on Friday evening at the Metropolitan Museum by the resident Beaux Arts Trio.The trio in G Major, Opus 1, No. 2 is the most inventive in that first lot of published chamber music. Already in 1795 we hear signature tricks of the mature composer, such as introducing the main theme of the Allegro on the “wrong” note – the subdominant rather than the tonic – only to correct the perceived disturbance when the melody is reprised triumphantly (compare the finales of the Fifth Symphony or Fourth Piano Concerto). The Beaux Arts, in this present incarnation together long enough now to have developed their own sound, offered the work as strict Haydnesque formalism, enunciating with Classical grace but not a great deal of propulsive energy.Only the Largo was exceptionally played, pianist Menahem Pressler performing lovingly. The remainder of the piece was rather stiffly paced, speed without intensity. Certainly the rapid fire notes of the Presto were all deployed in their proper places, but the net result was showy rather than exciting. Further, the new sound of the ensemble is monochromatically thin, and, in a program of very similar pieces, quite uninteresting.In the first half of the program, each string player had a turn at an early sonata. Antonio Meneses was dexterous in the F Major for cello and piano, but this work is so early as to still be primarily a keyboard work with solo string continuo. Mr. Pressler’s infectious brio made up for quite a bit of his errant navigation.Violinist Daniel Hope fared better in the Op.30, No.1. Although composed in 1802, this series of sonatas still radiates the impression that the themes were constructed to emphasize various technical facilities of the soloists. Mr. Hope was solid in his technique and has found just the right combination of restraint and vibrato for a satisfying turn of the 19th century sound. His reading of the Adagio, building emotionally but methodically on Mozartian angst and heavenly vision, was the best playing of the night.Overall, this was a competent showing, but I would have wished for at least one piece written after Beethoven had actually become Beethoven.

The Devil’s Due

The Devil’s Due

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