All-Brahms Program from MTT and Ax

Pianist Emanuel Ax (photograph by Nigel Parry, courtesy of San Francisco Symphony)

Yesterday afternoon in Davies Symphony Hall Michael Tilson Thomas (MTT) presented the first performance of the second of two programs he prepared for his visit to the podium of the San Francisco Symphony. The program consisted of two compositions by Johannes Brahms, one on either side of the intermission. For the second half MTT was joined by pianist Emanuel Ax for a performance of the Opus 15 (first) concerto in D minor. Brahms worked on this concerto for about two years, completing it around the time that he turned 25 years old in 1858. The first half of the program was also the product of more than a year’s worth of effort and was also completed in 1858, the Opus 11 serenade in D major.

Both of the piano concertos are major undertakings for both soloist and conductor. It was thus advantageous that MTT and Ax have partnered on a generous share of the concertante repertoire for piano and orchestra. Nevertheless, the intensity of Opus 15 is practically overwhelming; so much so that, in the wrong hands, it can easily dissolve into a whirlwind of bluster.

Fortunately, Ax could not have been more focused on his role in the partnership. When Brahms showered him with a flood of notes sweeping across not only the keyboard but also dynamic range, Ax knew how to keep every note in its proper place without ever shortchanging the rhetoric. For his part, MTT consistently knew exactly how to match the instrumental resources to the keyboard work, endowing every episode with just the right level of focus and intensity.

All too often this concerto is dismissed as an unruly effort by a young composer, who had not yet really found his voice. It might be fair to say that, indeed, Brahms had not yet “found his voice.” One might say that he was still trying to find his way; but, in the context of that metaphor, Opus 15 definitely emerged as a path worth exploring. Last night’s performance made a solid case for that point of view.

To the surprise and delight of the audience, Ax followed up on the generous applause by returning to present an encore. His selection was Franz Liszt’s transcription of the fourth song, “Ständchen” (serenade), in Franz Schubert’s D. 957 Schwanengesang (swan song) song cycle. As might be guessed, Liszt added a rich supply of embellishments to the original vocal line; but the overall rhetoric was one of sensitive quietude. Ax drew upon this selection to provide the calm after the storm, and his account of Liszt’s arrangement could not have been more satisfying.

Opus 11 was one of two early compositions that Brahms call “serenade.” These were early full-orchestra compositions, suggesting that he had not yet found his way to compose a full symphony. Nevertheless, both of the pieces serve up many inventive approaches to thematic material, presented through imaginative instrumentation. Unfortunately, the overall rhetorical lightness of the Opus 11 movements did not fare particularly well under MTT’s leadership, possibly due to the overall size of the ensemble.

I should “come clean” about how my opinion was influenced. For many years I never quite knew what to make of either of the serenades. That changed in 2012, when I had the opportunity to listen to Nicholas McGegan lead the Philharmonia Baroque Orchestra (PBO) in a performance of the Opus 16 (second) serenade in A major. I was blown away by the transparency of it all, suddenly realizing what I had been missing for many decades. I would later have the same experience with Opus 11 after PBO released the CD of both of the serenades.

To be fair, those recordings were made in Berkeley at the First Congregational Church; and even Herbst Theatre, where I had encountered Opus 16 in performance, is far more intimate than Davies. Nevertheless, McGegan clearly had a solid command of subtlety in his interpretations, which was as evident on recording as it was in performance. Sadly, MTT never quite attained that sense of subtlety, preferring, instead, a more “workman-like” interpretation. However, because Opus 11 consists of six movements, yesterday’s experience was more like here-we-go-again when compared with the what-happens-next rhetoric that McGegan brought to his performances.