Popular but Peculiar

This article is from the archive of The New York Sun before the launch of its new website in 2022. The Sun has neither altered nor updated such articles but will seek to correct any errors, mis-categorizations or other problems introduced during transfer.

The New York Sun

Kaija Saariaho is one of the most popular composers of today, certainly among critics. She is a Finn in her mid-50s, long resident in Paris. Early on, she was an ally of Pierre Boulez, and a darling of the Darmstadt crowd. But she has since become less severe and dogmatic, like those composers at large. The opera she wrote in 2000, “L’Amour de loin,” was widely praised; and she has now written another opera, “Adriana Mater.”

She has also drawn a concert work from that score, “Adriana Songs.” And this work was performed on Saturday night by the mezzo-soprano Patricia Bardon and the New York Philharmonic, conducted by David Robertson.

The opera is about a rough subject: the rape of a woman, the birth of her son, and the return of the rapist, years later. The words are by Ms. Saariaho’s longtime collaborator, Amin Maalouf, a Lebanese expatriate in Paris. (I should note that the text is in French.) Mr. Maalouf is a gifted writer, as we see in “Adriana Songs.”

The music is filled with exotic orchestral color, and it includes lots of percussion, as is common today — mainly soft percussion (a marimba, bells, chimes, and the like). Ms. Saariaho sometimes does odd things with syllables and notes: She will write a stress where none exists in the language. But that is her compositional prerogative.

One section of the work is for orchestra alone — no voice. It expresses rage, and it is indeed louder and more aggressive than the other sections. But I’m not sure that this is a genuine, visceral rage; the music is a little elegant and arty for that.

As you can perhaps tell, I did not find “Adriana Songs” terribly moving. And it is clear that they are supposed to be moving. Perhaps the music would have a greater effect, on me at least, in the opera itself. And there is no question that Ms. Saariaho is a serious talent, as she has amply proven over the years.

There is also no question that Ms. Bardon sang the songs well. She is an Irish mezzo-soprano — there’s a phrase you don’t write every day: “Irish mezzosoprano”! — and she rolled out a lush carpet of sound. Occasionally that sound had a pleasant huskiness in it. The words from her were a little indistinct, maybe because the vocal timbre was so rich.

Mr. Robertson, the music director of the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra, and a frequent guest of the Philharmonic, handled the score with care and sensitivity. He conducted in a smooth, refined, and rounded way — even the “rage” section. Perhaps that section could have used more angularity and punch.

Later in the concert, he conducted music of another Finn, though one who did not decamp to Paris. Sibelius wrote his “Night Ride and Sunrise” in 1908, and we seldom hear it today. We should hear it more. It is pure Sibelius, a pleasure from beginning to end.

And is it okay if I say that the piece was slightly Christmassy? Sleigh rides up near the North Pole will do that to you.

Mr. Robertson again conducted very, very smoothly, allowing nary a rough edge. A bit more brawn, or a slash, would have been welcome at times. But this was a beautifully layered performance, and all of those layers were clear. The woodwinds did a good job with their bird chirping — the frequent lot of woodwind players. And the horns were exceptionally competent.

Elsewhere on the program, Mr. Robertson conducted Debussy — he began and ended with him. Mr. Robertson is a fine Debussy conductor, as he proved in Carnegie Hall last season when he led his St. Louis orchestra in “Prelude to the Afternoon of a Faun.” With the Philharmonic, he began with the “symphonic fragments” from “The Martyrdom of St. Sebastian,” music Debussy wrote for a “mystery play” by d’Annunzio.

This was another beautifully layered, and beautifully textured, performance. The orchestra sounded very French, but not prissily so. The big, blooming sound at the end of the second “fragment” was a glory to the ear. I must say, however, that Mr. Robertson’s reading was a little dull — maybe a lot dull. And dullness, in my experience, is an Achilles heel of this conductor.

The concert ended with a great orchestral hit, “La Mer” — and it was not dull. Debussy was a champion colorist, and Mr. Robertson is a fine one, too. This account had Gallic elegance and mystery, all the right surges and insinuations. Concertmaster Glenn Dicterow was sleek on his violin; and the cellists were notably stylish, despite the absence of their principal, Carter Brey.

David Robertson is a favorite of critics, and some campaign for him to land a major post (such as the Philharmonic). I have never been on that bandwagon. But “La Mer” on Saturday night was flat-out fantastic.

A footnote, to end on: Saturday happened to be Beethoven’s birthday — and there was not a lick of Beethoven on the program. Fine with me. Music is all too beholden to birthdays and anniversaries anyway. But we wish the Big Guy well, regardless.


The New York Sun

© 2024 The New York Sun Company, LLC. All rights reserved.

Use of this site constitutes acceptance of our Terms of Use and Privacy Policy. The material on this site is protected by copyright law and may not be reproduced, distributed, transmitted, cached or otherwise used.

The New York Sun

Sign in or  Create a free account

or
By continuing you agree to our Privacy Policy and Terms of Use