Tag Archives: Beethoven

“Joy shall be yours in the morning…” PSO Does the Ninth

Portland Symphony Orchestra
Merrill Auditorium
April 25, 2017
by Christopher Hyde

Isak Dinesen once observed that there are three sources of joy: love, to have been in pain and be out of it, and to feel in oneself an excess of strength.. Each of these applies to Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony , which ends with Schiiler’s “Ode to Joy,” gloriously performed by the Portland Symphony Orchestra under music director Robert Moody on April 23 and 25.

One suspects that people nowadays are desperate for any source of joy—witness sold-out houses at Merrill Auditorium on both days. But there is another source of joy that Baroness Blixen neglected to mention—what William James called the “oceanic” feeling— the experience of being one with the universe, or the universal brotherhood celebrated by Schiller, Beethoven and Karl Marx.

Universal brotherhood was a subversive concept during the Romantic period, with the aristocracy desperately trying to hold on to power in the face of the French Revolution. and other popular movements. Beethoven had pondered setting Schiller’s poem to music for over 30 years before he wrote the Ninth, and there is evidence that the poet originally intended his ode to be in praise of liberty, rather than joy.

Music doesn’t have to be about anything but itself, but there must have been a powerful impulse at work for Beethoven to devote all of his genius, for an extended period, to a work that he would never hear, except in his own mind.

The Ninth is such a monumental creation that it is seldom heard live. To pull it off, Moody had to recruit a quartet of fine soloists: Mary Boehlke-Wilson, soprano; Margaret Lias, alto; John McVeigh, tenor; and Philip Cutlip, baritone, willing to risk their voices in Beethoven’s impossible roles, the combined forces of the Oratorio Chorale, under Emily Isaacson and the Choral Art Masterworks, under Robert Riussell, plus the full orchestra devoted to a demanding score lasting over an hour.

Although there were a couple of strained points, inevitable in such an undertaking, Moody held everything together admirably. The soloists tackled the impossible successfully, and the combined choruses were able to hold their own against the orchestra gracefully, and to sing a monumental fugue without the muddiness that often accompanies large numbers of voices.

The result was tremendously moving, in spite of superfluous supertitles (there is not a single decent translation of the Schiller ode anywhere on the internet). After the final fortissimo the audience leaped to its collective feet instantly, with the accompaniment of cheers and foot stomping. No one wanted to leave.

In the face of the Ninth, the opening Samuel Barber Adagio for Strings seemed a little muted, at least in retrospect, but its selection to set the sombre opening mood of the Beethoven symphony was inspired programming.

Christopher Hyde is a writer and musician who lives in Pownal, He can be reached at classbeat@netscape.net.

DaPonte Does the Three “B”s in Brunswick

DaPonte String Quartet
Unitarian Universalist Church, Brunswick
March 25, 2017
by Christopher Hyde

The DaPonte String Quartet’s program on Sunday, at Brunswick’s Unitarian Universalist Church, began with two fugues from Bach’s “Art of the Fugue,” which has been called the greatest masterwork in music, although it was written to teach rather than perform.

Cellist Myles Jordan points out, in his always perceptive program notes, that there are a number of problems with this attribution. One is Joseph Conrad’s observation that “All praise is invidious,” because it assumes that the person offering the praise is qualified to to give it.

A second is the effect on performers, which is like that on a modern sculptor given a chisel and asked to improve upon MIchelangelo’s David. It can’t be done, and the effect is near paralysis.

Of course Bach has to be performed to live at all, but one tries to approach it like any other score, without fear and trembling. The DaPonte gave it a good try, but could not seem to let themselves go, as they did with a more popular work, the Beethoven String Quartet in C Major, Op. 29.

With the able assistance of violist Katherine Murdock, they brought this melodic and sometimes quirky creature to life. It is easily accessible on first hearing, but there is some novel invention in each of the movements, just enough to delight without confusing: odd triplets in the first, huge empty rests and no resolution to the tonic in the second, a lovely canter across country, reminding one of the “Light Cavalry Overture,” in the third, and a switch from a gallop to a slower call and response, and back again, in the fourth, which also presages Beethoven’s later obsession with false cadences.

About the last work on the program, the Brahms String Quintet No. 2 in G Major, Op. 111, Jordan pointed out the difficulties in balancing the cello part, which stems from a theme for the brass section of an orchestra, with the other voices in the quintet. The disparity was unnoticeable among the lush and familiar melodies the composer spreads lavishly throughout.

Brahms, perhaps believing that this was to be his last published work, seems to have let his hair down in the quintet, which is nowhere near as durch-componiert as most of his earlier works, beginning with an opening theme that sounds strangely Wagnerian. (Pardon the German, but there’s no other way to describe what composers do who work like a painter, seeing that a dab of color in the lower left-hand corner affects something else in the upper right.)

The first two movements are perfect examples of late Romanticism. The third seems an attempt to get back to more intellectual pursuits, with a strangely off-kilter treatment of triplets and a hearkening back to the principal theme of the first.

Finally, in the fourth, Brahms says “to Hell with it all,” and brings in a gypsy melody, ending with a totally unrelated Hungarian furiant that would have made Bartok proud. It received a well deserved sanding ovation.

The size of the overflow audience at the UUC attests to the success of the quartet’s policy of extending its outreach in Maine. I still think they may be spreading themselves too thin, but music lovers throughout the state have much to be grateful for.

Christopher Hyde is a writer and musician who lives in Pownal, He can be reached at classbeat@netscape.net.

Philharmonia Quartett, Berlin

Philharmonia Quartett Berlin
Hannaford Hall, USM
March 19, 2017
by Christopher Hyde

An encore by a string quartet! The first I have heard in many years of listening to chamber music, and not a lollipop either, but the first movement of Beethoven’s Opus 18, No. 6.

The occasion was the conclusion of a Sunday afternoon concert at USM’s Hannaford Hall by the Philharmonia Quartett Berlin, one of the world’s pre-eminent ensembles, under the auspices of Portland Ovations.

The quartet had just concluded the Beethoven No. 15 in A Minor, Opus 132, to a standing ovation, when one of the members said something to the effect of : “Well, you liked that, so we’ll give you some more.”

I had been wracking my brains for what element  makes the quartet so special —balance, individualization of parts, resonance, microtone precision, passion, dynamics, what some have called “smoothness,” etc. etc., without coming to any obvious conclusion.

After the encore, I saw them entering the elevator, chatting like a group of high school students on a senior trip, and what had been under my nose during the encore, suddenly came to mind: They actually love what they’re doing. It’s what holds them together. I had seen that during the encore, but their cohesiveness was emphasized by their obvious comradery off stage.

The program itself was fascinating, beginning with a Mozart quartet, No. 8 in F Major (KV.168), that was light and lively, the composer making fun of convention with a fugue whose theme was so rapid that it defied the rules of counterpoint.

My favorite, however, was the late Shostakovich No. 15 in E-flat Minor (Op 144). There were no flies in Hannaford Hall, so I couldn’t check the validity of the composer’s dictum that the first movement should be so boring that it would make flies drop dead.

I found it fascinating, an exploration of what could be accomplished with the fewest possible notes, played sostenuto within a severely limited range of pitches. It was extremely effective in a macabre sort of way and lent itself to all sorts of Shostakovian transformations, from heart-rending shrieks to summer insects, to one of his famous sardonic waltzes, to, finally, a dirge to the tune of Happy Birthday.
One would have thought it another poke in the eye to Stalin, except that the dictator had already been dead 20 years when it was written. I think Shostakovich missed him.

I wasn’t as happy with the late Beethoven, also a No. 15, but in A Minor (Op. 132). Not because of its execution, which was well-nigh perfect, but because of my blind spot for these revered productions.

The “Holy Song of Thanksgiving to the Divinity by a Convalescent, in the Lydian Mode” (Note the comma. The movement is in the Lydian mode, not the convalescent.) goes on forever. One can imagine God saying: “Enough, Ludwig, I get the message.”

The final movement is livelier, but its false cadences are enough to drive one mad. Sorry. Mea culpa. I really have come to like the Grosse Fugue.

Christopher Hyde is a writer and musician who lives in Pownal. He can be reached at classbeat@netscape.net.

Classics from South America, at the Franco Center

MIchael Lewin, Pianist
Franco Center, Lewiston
March 10, 2017
by Christopher Hyde
One of the finest, and most unusual, piano recitals of the year happened Friday night, Mar. 10, as part of the 2016-17 Piano Series at the Franco Center in Lewiston.

Michael Lewin, Professor of Piano at the Boston Conservatory at Berklee, after acclaimed recordings of Debussy, Scarlatti, Liszt and Charles Tomlinson Griffes, has begun to explore Latin American classical music, and his discoveries made up a large part of the program.

Lewin’s technique is astounding, but always in the service of a musical imagination which contains a refreshing amount of intellectual curiosity. One his recordings deals with musical depictions of birds, and another with music inspired by the spirit world.

The program began with the Beethoven Sonata No. 3 in C Major (Op. 2, No. 3), which is not heard very often, perhaps because its transitional nature, moving away from Mozart and Haydn into his own realm, but more of a showpiece than an expedition into new territory. It does, however, offer premonitions of more characteristic work, while illustrating why the young Beethoven was in demand as a performer.

It was followed by the fiendishly difficult Sonata No. 1, Op. 22 (1952) by Argentine composer Alberto Ginastera (1916-1983). In discussing the work after the concert, Lewin explained that he played it with the score, since he was still perfecting its performance. The work is so complex, dense and rapid that it doesn’t seem as if a score would help in playing it. Even turning the pages was a virtuoso exercise.

Like his compatriot, Astor Piazzolla, Ginastera uses Latin dance forms primarily as a framework for  complex musical ideas and imagery. In fact, these musical echoes may not even be deliberate, but part of each composer’s heritage, sounding “Latin” only to northern ears.

My favorite section of the 15-minute sonata was the Presto Misterioso second movement, with its combinations of chords and sprays of notes at the extreme ends of treble and bass.

After intermission, Lewin played shorter dance works by Erensto Lecouna and Ernesto Nazareth, and “A lenda do cobaclo” (Legend of the Native) of Heitor Villa-Lobos. Lecouna (1895-1963) is best known for “Malagueña,” but his “La conga de la media noche” shows what “The Cuban Gershwin” could do with more sophisticated musical forms and “modern” harmony.

Lewin is known as a Liszt performer, and the final works on the program were the “Petrarch Sonnet,” No. 123, and the “Mephisto Waltz,” No. 1, masterpieces of musical imagery. The encore was an early Scriabin Etude.

The Franco Center piano series remains too much of an undiscovered treasure. Its artists are the equal of any performing in Maine, the venue and its acoustics are superb, and the price is low (including champagne with the pianist). Kevin Ayesh is coming on April 21, and I urge all lovers of the piano to attend and discover what they are missing.

 

Christopher Hde is a writer and musician who lives in Pownal.  He can be reached at classbeat@netscape.net.

The Ghost of the Piano

Portland Symphony Orchestra
Merrill Auditorium
Feb. 14, 2017
by Christopher Hyde

The Portland Symphony Orchestra’s Valentine’s Day concert at Merrill Auditorium could have been billed as ”A Study in Black and White.” Music Director Robert Moody chose one of Beethoven’s most light-hearted (and least popular) symphonies, No. 2 in D Major, Opus 36, and paired it with Rachmaninoff’s darkly Romantic Symphony No. 2 in E Minor, the “Wuthering Heights” of music.

One doesn’t hear the Beethoven No. 2 very often, perhaps because it’s sort of a musician’s in-joke, which can’t be appreciated by the general public. It is fun to listen to, but lacks the emotion and spirituality of the others.

Some one once said to me, rather dismissively, that “music is not a religious experience,” to which I replied, as Woody Allen pointed out in another context: “It is if it’s done right.”

The orchestra gave the symphony a technically flawless performance, but they too seemed to lack passion. On the other hand, everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves, especially in that section of the Scherzo where a theme is tossed around between sections like a hot potato. The larghetto, which is more of s Spring song than a tragic reflection, was delightful, its bird calls a precursor of those in the Sixth Symphony.

A disclaimer here: the Rachmaninoff is one of my favorite works, perhaps because I first heard it performed by the Philadelphia Orchestra under Eugene Ormandy, which was world-famous for its string section.

Hearing it live once again, however, gave me an insight for the first time. It is not a symphony at all, but a piano concerto without piano. Anyone who plays the instrument can imagine a tremendous piano part fitting in perfectly beside or above almost every note of the score. There is even space in its heavenly length for the most brilliant and imaginative cadenzas you can invent.

The other-worldly clarinet solo in the Adagio, perfectly performed by Principal Thomas Parchman, shows where Rachmaninoff’s mind lay, although the clarinet gave him a better sostenuto than the piano to work with.

Speaking of heavenly length, the finale goes on so long that it was sometimes cut for performance. Not so this time, and one hoped it would go on forever. (Note: I have been informed that some, I hope minor, cuts were made to the original score for this performance.. Hope none of them was the real climax.)

Rachmaninoff was pre-occupied with musical climaxes, insisting that one must be found and built up to in every work, even if the composer had left it out. The finale of the symphony has at least five or six, leading the listener to wonder if he suffered, like Bruckner, from anorgasmia.

Moody chose the last one, fortissimo, leading to a standing ovation and the thanks of all the Valentine’s Day couples in the audience.

Christopher Hyde is a writer and musician who lives in Pownal, He can be reached at classbeat@netscape.net.

The Avant Garde at Bowdoin, Plus Beethoven

Amernet String Quartet
Studzinsky Recital Hall, Bowdoin College
Jan. 28, 2017
by Christopher Hyde

After more than 20 years of reviewing classical music in Maine, I am still surprised by the variety and quality of the offerings here.

The concert by the Amernet Quartet, Saturday night at Studzinsky Hall, is a prime example. Here was one of the most renowned interpreters of contemporary music, playing two “modern” quartets, a transcription of the Beethoven “Pathetique” and a movement from a quartet by Vineet Shende, who teaches at Bowdoin.

I don’t know what to say about the Beethoven transcription. I play the sonata myself and its andante cantabile was one of the first “classical” works I heard on the radio, an orchestral version introducing some company’s “Symphony Hour” back in the 50’s. Anyone remember what that was, on a Philadelphia station?

At any rate, the transcription was fun to hear, bringing out some inner voices generally obscured in the piano version. What was lacking, however, was the crispness of individual chords and the dynamic range that can be achieved on a Steinway grand.

The third movement of Shende’s String Quartet No. 2, “in Raag Ahir Bhairav,” utilizes traditional Indian modes and complex rhythmical patterns in a Western classical form. It avoids “exotic” cliches to attempt an authentic fusion of East and West, rather than a pastiche.

Shende provided a brief explanation of the modes in opening remarks before the performance, pointing out that the Indian modes named in the work are more than patterns of notes. One wishes that more information could have been included in the program notes.

The same applies to the other contemporary works on the program—the String Quartet No. 1 (1998) of Manuel de Murga, and the String Quartet No. 4 (1996) of Sydney Hodkinson, although both have expressive indications before each movement, such as “slowly pulsing, smoldering,” (de Murga) or “declamando, placido, sereno,” (Hodkinson).

De Murga, who teaches composition at Stetson University, and Hodkinson, Adjunct Professor of Music at Stetson, have both used the string quartet format as a vehicle for conveying emotional states, as designated by the movement indications.

Hodkinson also ventures into character portraits of his friends, a la Elgar’s “Enigma” Variations. Some of the portraits are based upon letter and number patterns, like those of the late Elliott Schwartz. In both cases, it was enjoyable to attempt linking the music to the adjectives.

The Amernet provided the best possible renditions of these late 20th Century works, especially the dense and sometimes fugal textures of the Hodkinson Quartet.

There’s a strange phenomenon at Studzinsky: an approximately 50 percent audience decline after intermission. The hall was almost filled for the first half and half filled for the second. I thought perhaps they wanted to hear only Beethoven and a native son, Shende, but the same thing seems to happen at every concert, not just of “modern” music.

Christopher Hyde is a writer and musician who lives in Pownal, He can be reached at classbeat@netscape.net.

DaPonte’s Respighi a Home Run

DaPonte String Quartet
Unitarian Universalist Church, Brunswick
May 22, 2016
by Christopher Hyde

Two out of three ain’t bad. The theme of the DaPonte String Quartet’s most recent series was “Dino’s Hit List,” three of the favorite compositions of quartet violinist Ferdinand Liva. Of course, hit list has another connotation as well.

Before Sunday’s concert, at the Unitarian Universals Church in Brunswick, Liva did not say why he had selected Mozart’s String Quartet in B-flat Major, KV 589, a work composed for the King of Prussia, who was an ardent cellist, not a violinist.

The late work, frankly, is not one of Mozart’s best. The DaPonte cannot play anything badly, but the writing seemed a little thin at times. It was improved by a fine cello melody during the Larghetto and in the final Allegro assai, a scherzo-like movement which reminded one of what Beethoven did with the traditional minuet.

What followed, however, was truly amazing-—the Quartetto Dorico, Op. 144 of Ottorino Respighi. The Dorian mode corresponds to a scale consisting of the white keys on a piano from “D” to “D”. It has also been called “Russian minor,” and Respighi may have encountered it during his studies in orchestral color with Rimsky Korsakov.

Respighi is best known for his atmospheric landscape portraits, such as “The Pines of Rome,” composed around the same time as the Quartetto. He was a member of string quartets and the Op. 144 uses his knowledge to great effect. The writing is orchestral, and the DaPonte was able to express it perfectly, raising the volume a notch or two without pushing the limits of the instruments.

The initial theme, played in unison, appears repeatedly, in transformation after transformation, ending in a triumphant fugue. In between, the feeling is pantheistic, like the music of Janacek, impressionistic, like Ravel or his own “Pines of Rome,” and sometimes archaic, like his “Ancient Airs and Dances.” But the quartet is by no means a pastiche. It holds together beautifully.

Respighi, a genius who deserves to be better known, seems to have devised a “third way” of advancing the art of composition without resorting to atonality or serialism. The quartet is full of magical effects; at one point the violin enters with a high-pitched bird whistle over a rustle like wind in trees, with absolutely startling clarity.

Just when you thought it couldn’t get any better, there came a masterful account of the Beethoven String Quartet in E Minor, Opus 59, No. 2.

The other day, I was entranced by what Beethoven could do with the “V for Victory” motif of the Fifth Symphony. The E Minor Quartet shows what genius can do with a simple interval, also stated at the very beginning.

As just one example, the interval is treated as a heavily accented iamb on the first violin, serving as an accompaniment to the melody, and it is ravishing. The Russian folk song in the Allegretto, with its off-kilter rhythms, has been immortalized, and the quick march of the presto somehow evolves into a galloping horse.

The playing was spectacular and led to a rare standing ovation for the final concert of five throughout central Maine.

Christopher Hyde is a writer and musician who lives in Pownal. He can be reached at classbeat@netscape.net.

Portland Symphony Plays a Memorable Fifth

Portland Symphony Orchestra
Merrill Auditorium
May 3, 2016
by Christopher Hyde

Are there any undiscovered masterpieces? There may be, but if so, they are few and far between. The vast majority of music vanishes after its first performance, if any, and is relegated to the archives, where it languishes until “rediscovered,” only to vanish again.

These unoriginal musings were prompted by the performance at Merrill Auditorium Tuesday night of Erich Korngold’s Concerto for Violin and Orchestra in D Major (Op. 35) by the Portland Symphony Orchestra under music director Robert Moody,

Korngold is best known as an Oscar-winning composer of movie music, although he began his career as a child prodigy turned composer in Moravia (now part of the Czech Republic).

The orchestra gave the work its best effort, and the soloist, Christoph Koncz, knows film music inside and out, having played the hero in “The Red Violin.” Still, through the entire performance, I was picturing scenes from “Schindler’s List.”

Was it merely association of the composer with cinematography? Doesn’t all music conjure up images of some kind?

Not necessarily. (See Beethoven’s Fifth below.) Korngold, however, seems to be playing to the audience and calculating the effect of the scene, rather than letting the music speak for itself. One result is a lack of passion and self-assertiveness in the violin part.. It was beautifully played by Koncz, but its primary characteristic was a kind of wistful sweetness, pleasant enough, but wearing after a while.

I think it was Rilke who cautioned against journalism if one wanted to be a poet. The former rubs off too much on the latter, and the same thing seems to have happened to Korngold.

Tuesday’s program began with Smetana’s “Bartered Bride” Overture, one of my favorite compositions, played a little too fast and without enough attention to its striking effects. It could be that opera and abstract music don’t mix either.

I have purposely left Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony for last because nothing in the world remains to be said about it. It is a towering masterpiece that never loses its freshness, even after being played as a theme song on “Judge Judy.” One begins by admiring all the permutations of the “V” for Victory motif and ends in absolute awe and sometimes transfiguration.

As in all of its performances so far of the Beethoven cycle, the orchestra played above itself in every respect, earning a tumultuous standing ovation.

Christopher Hyde is a writer and musician who lives in Pownal. He can be reached at classbeat@netscape.net.

Definitive Performances By Lincoln Center Chamber Music Society

Chamber Music Society of Lincoln Center
Hannaford Hall, USM Portland
April 9, 2016
by Christopher Hyde

I wondered how Portland Ovations had managed to attract such a large audience to Hannaford Hall on a sunny Saturday afternoon. As soon as I heard the first bars of the Beethoven Quartet in E-flat Major for Piano, Violin, Viola and Cello (Op. 16), it all became clear. These people must have heard artists from the Chamber Music Society of Lincoln Center before, and knew that the afternoon’s performances would define what to listen for in years too come.

The Society comprises prominent musicians from around the world, who collaborate as trios, quartets, chamber orchestras or other ensembles to perform works from the entire chamber music repertoire. Appearing under the auspices of Portland Ovations were: Gilles Vonsattel, piano, Arnaud Sussmann , violin, Paul Neubauer, viola and Paul Watkins, cello.

They played a program centered around the Dvorák Quartet in E-flat Major, Op. 87, including works that influenced or were influenced by that seminal composition. And what playing. They might have been together for a century to have developed such a degree of coordination. One could see them smiling at each other when listening for the beats that would define a microtone of pitch differential.

The early Beethoven quartet was simply gorgeous, perhaps more melodic and easily accessible on first hearing than his later works. One could see why Dvorak might have loved it.

Everything about the performance was almost perfect—the balance between instruments, precise entrances and phrase endings (the latter more difficult than anything else), dynamics, lyrical singing tones where appropriate, and so on, but most compelling was the sheer joy of playing. The overall impression was one of confidence and solidity, forming the basis of free expression. And they retuned between every movement.

After the Beethoven came the Serenade in C Major for Violin, Viola and Cello, Op. 10, written by Ernõ Dohnányi in 1902, and making even greater use of folk motifs than Dvorák. While not in the same league as the Beethoven quartet, it was fascinating in its innovations, beginning with a melody over a bagpipe drone in the first bars, and ending with a strong sforzando. Its tonal ambiguity made one realize just how much folk music provided a doorway to atonality.

Too much perfection is inhuman, so I was happy to hear a single wrong note from the piano during the passionate opening movement of the Dvorak piano quartet. (Maybe he did it on purpose.) The rest was a definitive rendering of one of the most melodic works in the repertoire.

Sometimes it was bit too lush, as in the best known and repetitive melodic passages, accompanied by a treble piano obligato. It conjured up memories of the Plaza Palm Court and its strolling musicians. But that was the fault of the composer, not his interpreters.

Christopher Hyde is a writer and musician who lives in Pownal. He can be reached at classbeat@netscape.net.

Midcoast Symphony Changes the Climate

Midcoast Symphony Orchestra
Orion Center, Topsham
Jan. 16, 2016
by Christopher Hyde

It takes a Northerner to really appreciate Spanish music. The Maine residents who play in the Midcoast Symphony Orchestra must have a really passionate desire to experience warmer climes, or at least to re-create them among the snowdrifts. How else to explain the almost miraculous performances of de Falla, Ravel and Chabrier that conductor Rohan Smith elicited from the band on Sunday afternoon at Orion Center for the Performing Arts?

The final works on the program, two suites from Manuel de Falla’s ballet, “The Three Cornered Hat,” resulted in a rare standing ovation from a near capacity audience. It was well deserved. I have never heard the Midcoast perform as well in all its 15-year history. Everything–tempo, dynamics, orchestral color and elaborate rhythmical pulses–came together perfectly. The exciting orchestration sounded at times like that of Rimsky- Korsakov.

The woodwinds were particularly striking, sometimes rolling down the scale from flute to bassoon and back again. It was de Falla as he is never heard on a recording. It made me re-think my opinion of him as a minor national colorist.

All three of the Spanish-flavored pieces, two of them by Frenchmen, are often selected by top-notch orchestras to display their virtuosity. The Midcoast outdid them all, if not in technical perfection then in contagious enthusiasm.

Another superb advertisement for live music came in the form of Ravel’s “Alborada del Gracioso,” which began life as one of that composer’s fiendishly difficult piano pieces. One knows how complex the polyrhythms are when even a highly accomplished percussionist can be seen counting. Ravel never wrote anything trivial–and that includes the Bolero–but the Alborada is often performed like an insignificant piece of atmospheric writing.

Nay, not so, but far otherwise. It is musical to a fault, exploring the far reaches of contrasts, with brass sforzandos like lightning bolts through a cane jungle of pizzicato. Smith, in opening remarks, characterized it as both grotesque and mysterious. As played by the Midcoast it was both of these, and more.

The program opened with Emmanuel Chabrier’s well-known “España,” which concerned me a little. It was together, lively and up-tempo, but some of its striking brass accents were slightly off the mark. Maybe the players’ fingers and lips were cold, since the work improved vastly as it went along.

The orchestra really came into its own with the next offering, the Beethoven Symphony No. 1 in C Major, Op. 21. The Portland Symphony Orchestra recently performed this work as part of its three-year cycle of all Beethoven’s symphonies, and I must confess that I preferred the Midcoast’s version. The so-called minuet, which is actually a scherzo, was appropriately wild, and the beauty of the finale was enough to bring a tear to one’s eye.

Technically, the Beethoven, in its use of sforzando-like strong accents, resembled enough of the Spanish works to make it fit right in with the rest of the program.

Schopenhauer once questioned why we denigrate those who practice an art out of love —amateurs— while praising those who do it for money —professionals. Why indeed?

Christopher Hyde is a writer and musician who lives in Pownal, He can be reached at classbeat@netscape.net.