Salonen's Scientific Side

The Los Angeles Philharmonic isspending a week here in New York, and they began their residence with a concert on Sunday afternoon. They played Salonen, Ravel, Prokofiev — and, for an encore, Boccherini-Berio. (Explanation to come.)

That first composer, of course, is Esa-Pekka Salonen, who doubles in life as the music director of the L.A. Phil. The piece with which he began Sunday's concert was "Helix," which he composed in 2005. It was commissioned by the BBC and premiered by the World Orchestra for Peace. Ah, those orchestras for peace.

In a program note, Mr. Salonen discoursed on "Helix." He said that the form of the piece can "be described as a spiral or a coil; or more academically, a curve that lies on a cone and makes a constant angle with the straight lines parallel to the base of the cone." Reading the program note, I felt like I was taking the Math SAT.

"Helix" may be regarded as one of Mr. Salonen's perpetual-motion pieces — he has written a fair number of them. It has a sci-fi feel, recalling Gustav Holst in spots. It could serve as a soundtrack for "Battlestar Galactica." The music goes by with some excitement, and at the end it's hurry, hurry, hurry, scurry, scurry, scurry. And the piece is undoubtedly brainy, mathematical (or, more specifically, geometrical). But it leaves no mark on the listener.

At least that was my experience on Sunday afternoon.

What cannot be denied is that Mr. Salonen conducted "Helix" with authority, as though he knew the composer and the score extremely well. And the Los Angeles Philharmonic played with its expected virtuosity.

Next was a concerto performance to last long in the memory: Jean-Yves Thibaudet played Ravel's Piano Concerto for the Left Hand. He tucked into the work with almost frightening command, and that command never let up. He always knew what he was doing, and what Ravel was doing. He was wispy and martial, delicate and blunt. Rhythm was super-acute, and accentuation was nearly ideal. Mr. Thibaudet has the sense to accord notes their proper weight — something indispensable in piano playing.

Technically, this performance was accurate almost to the point of unbelievability, and musically, it was inarguable. As I said, one to last in the memory. Mr. Thibaudet is a great pianist, a fact that will be universally acknowledged when he is either rickety (and therefore less great) or dead.

Mr. Salonen, too, did well, keeping his Ravel clear, unmuddied. He conducted with admirable straightforwardness. He had the orchestra bring out certain jazz elements, but he did not overemphasize these. Occasionally, orchestra was not together with soloist, but there was no breakdown. Something puzzling occurred, however: The woodwinds were unusually coarse in their big moments. This seemed unnecessary, and not entirely musical.

The second half of the program was devoted to a suite from Prokofiev's ballet "Romeo and Juliet." (Interestingly, New York City Ballet was dress-rehearsing "Romeo and Juliet" across the way from Avery Fisher Hall that very evening.) The orchestra began with a lousy entrance, which is a sad way to begin. Later, there was other imprecision of attack. But the Philharmonic was on the whole its virtuosic self.

Mr. Salonen conducted reasonably, uneccentrically, though you could quarrel with him — for example, about tempo: This section was too slow, making the music inappropriately static; that section was too fast, not allowing for enough pomp or majesty. Also, Mr. Salonen sometimes let sound — sustained sound — just hang there, with no vitality to it, with nothing happening in it. This was not musically apt.

Furthermore, Mr. Salonen indulged in strange little ritards, and these, too, were not musically apt. For years, I have referred to such manipulations as "Maazelisms," in honor of the New York Philharmonic's music director. Perhaps we should instead call them Salonenisms. (Solecisms?)

Most seriously, parts of Prokofiev's score were unduly cold and mechanical. A good performance of this work will absolutely kill you (and the late Rostropovich was the best I ever heard). The final sections — "Romeo at Juliet's Grave," "Death of Juliet" — ought to be almost unbearable. No eye should remain dry. But on Sunday afternoon, hankies could stay firmly in pockets.

Mr. Salonen and the band played an encore, and a most unusual one: a Luciano Berio treatment of a little piece by Boccherini. No doubt the scientific skill of Berio's treatment appeals to the brainy Mr. Salonen. Unfortunately, the performance was rather sloppy and charmless. But Mr. Salonen built the music well, and he did us a favor by offering this weird, fetching rarity.