Passion Makes NMSO Sparkle Brazilian pianist Arnaldo Cohen and director Guillermo Figueroa's New Mexico Symphony Orchestra present an exquisite program
by D.S. Crafts
Almost to the day a year ago, Brazilian pianist Arnaldo Cohen took the stage for an exquisitely lyrical rendition of the Liszt First Concerto. Recently he returned, this time for Brahms First Concerto with the New Mexico Symphony Orchestra under the direction of Guillermo Figueroa. Copland's Symphony No. 3 filled out the program.
Brahms was notorious for revising his work a zillion times. This piece, for example, began life as a symphony, then became a piano duet, until it finally emerged in the form we now know it, the First Concerto. There are none of the big, memorable tunes as in his other concertos, which is why much of it can often seem ponderous.
Still, it is Brahms, and there are exquisite moments that Cohen brought forth with fundamental musicianship coupled with sparkling pianism and an innate sense of poetry. As with the Liszt last year, he takes the most formidable technical challenges with seeming ease. And clearly he and Figueroa have a similar vision for the music of this period.
The explosion of orchestral trills that opens the Maestoso merged into majestic playing by both soloist and orchestra. The Adagio, a portrait of Brahms' patroness Clara Schumann, warmed with tender Romanticism. Cohen then pounced into an outburst of the Gypsy rhythms of the Rondo: Allegro non troppo almost before the last notes of the Adagio had fallen away. This finale is Brahms at his most outwardly passionate, providing an array of virtuosic demonstration for Cohen, who brought the house to its feet after the bristling coda.
The Third Symphony by Aaron Copland belongs to his "Americana" period, a style easily recognized by its open fourths and fifths among other features. Premiered in 1946, it came in distinct contrast to the quicksand of self-conscious complexity concert music had fallen into at that time. The finale movement begins with the well-known Fanfare for the Common Man, given entirely in its original form.
Figueroa, who from his written comments is an avid proponent of the work, led a convincing performance throughout. The opening Molto moderato contrasted a powerful drive with tender simplicity (Copland's subtitle being "with simple expression"). The Allegro molto, second movement, came alive with a panoply of shimmering orchestral color, from blazing brass to an array of percussion, the strings in their highest register the only deficiency.
Figueroa built a wonderfully coordinated overall sense of ensemble, impressively stopping the impulsive inertia of the movement on a dime.
The Andantino quasi allegro was both luxurious and dramatic, and the full humanitarian implication of the Fanfare was unmistakable. Like the opening of Strauss' Also Sprach Zarathustra, which is played to death without all that follows, there is much more here which is only heard in a full performance of the symphony, and which recasts the opening motive in many new directions.
