By Aaron Keebaugh
Conductor Christopher Wilkins and the Boston Landmarks Orchestra regularly present serious, demanding programs, but there is always room for a little party.
Cellist Aron Zelkowicz and Boston Landmarks Orchestra in action. Photo: Michael Dwyer
Joel Hoffman Self-portrait with mountain achieves its sublimity, like most cello concertos, through a passionate musical dialogue between soloist and orchestra.
But there was more at play when cellist Aron Zelkowicz and the Boston Landmarks Orchestra performed the score under the direction of Christopher Wilkins last weekend at DCR Hatch Shell. Rather than relying solely on traditional pyrotechnics, Zelkowicz and Wilkins set out to infuse the music with yearning. Sure, the composition danced where it needed to. But this performance almost desperately sought a solace that remained just out of reach.
Yes, exuberance and introspection are woven into the fabric of the music. And in its traditional three-movement format, Self-portrait It also tells the story of the tragic life of the Yiddish folk poet and songwriter Mordechai Gebirtig, who was murdered by the Nazis on Bloody Thursday 1942, and also serves as an introduction to some of Gebirtig’s most famous melodies.
The first movement, built around the tune of “Sweep, little broom!”, tells of the woes of a poor housekeeper employed by vicious bosses. She takes revenge – of a sort – when her employer’s son falls in love with her and proposes marriage. Hoffman’s music powerfully dramatizes the internal and external struggle of the situation – dark melancholy is suffused with an almost frivolous zeal.
The dances also lend the finale considerable lightness. But even here, Hoffman’s lines reflect on the moment – and enjoy it at the same time. And those emotions can change in an instant, with harmonies that lighten the scene with tremendous nuances of color.
The central movement is based on “To Be a Maid for the Well-To-Do” (there are echoes of Ernest Bloch’s Shelomon), offers the most insightful dialogue between cellist and orchestra, simultaneously negotiating with fate and questioning the forces at work in a world yearning for a resolution to irrational conflicts.
The musicians explored every turn of this profound musical journey. Zelkowicz’s tone varied ambitiously throughout, from silver to the deepest mahogany. Wilkins and the orchestra enveloped him in a thick, dark blanket of sound.
A similar splendor of color and emotional impact was also seen in the other welcome discovery of the concert: Julia Perry’s Three Spiritualsto be heard in its delayed world premiere.
Although she was almost forgotten after her death in 1979, Perry is a composer whose time in the spotlight has thankfully come. Three Spirituals are only a small part of her work, and they are jewels full of sparkling details. She achieves this kind of deafening delicacy through the use of lively orchestration; in the outer movements she bathes quotations from well-known spirituals in different shades of light without resorting to cheap tricks.
Other passages achieve noble serenity. In the second part, for example, spiky dissonances gradually emerge during large intervals. Music of such imaginative beauty was tailor-made for the Landmarks Orchestra, and Wilkins led a sensitive interpretation that made a compelling case for it.
The rest of the program, which centered on Dvořák’s 8th Symphony, offered more familiar fare.
While the Eighth is generally seen as a joyous departure from the composer’s tumultuous Seventh, Wilkins’ interpretation reflected an unusual teleological bent. Phrases that unfolded easily in the introduction gradually gained momentum with the onset of the Allegro.
Even the second movement, with its lyrical folklore, was delivered with a resounding firmness of touch. Wilkins mastered the moment without losing sight of the bigger picture, entering the phrases with just enough rubato to keep them moving forward. The scherzo took on a deft swing and danced gracefully; the conductor shaped the trio with great attention to the curves of the melodic line.
The trumpets rang out with bold authority at the start of the finale, setting the tone for the frenzy that followed. It delivered the goodness one expects from Romantic symphonies: this was a true and satisfying climax. Wilkins’ version of Dvořák showed the composer as a realist painter, for whom detail was as important as revelling in verve and verve. The serene lines, reflecting the folk dances of the composer’s native Bohemia, bubbled through. Yet the lyrical passages, balancing the high tempo, exuded just the right amount of sweetness.
Hugo Alfvens Midsummer Night and Brahms’ Academic Festival “Overture” caused just as much excitement, even though the two pieces contrasted nicely with each other.
This is Alfvén’s most famous score and an interlude. As a composition Midsummer Night lies somewhere between pop novelty and serious symphonic tone poetry. Wilkins and the orchestra stormed the festive Swedish dances with devotion – and obviously with no small amount of fun.
Brahms’ Academic Festivalwith its chaotic mix of beer hall songs and strict musical form, moved with palpable pride. It proved to be a good reminder: Wilkins and Landmarks Orchestra regularly present serious, demanding programs: but there is always room for celebration.
Aaron Keebaugh has been a classical music critic in Boston since 2012. His work has been published in the Musical times, Umbelliferae, Boston Classical Review, Early Music Americaand BBC Radio 3. As a musicologist, he teaches at North Shore Community College in Danvers and Lynn.
