Musical manna from Maazel

At a time of uncertainty and unrest when the rest of community of nations faces the threat of being drawn into eschatological conflict between the forces of good and evil; when President George Bush, in reaction to the destruction of the Twin Towers and the Pentagon, is waging war against Osama Bin Laden and his terrorist cohorts including those engaged in their sinister mission in the Philippines; when Sadam Hussein persists in refusing the representatives from the United Nations to inspect Iraq because he might be concealing weapons of mass destruction; and a bomb kills over a hundred tourists in Bali; when in our own country the Abu Sayyaf bandits continue to sow fear and the CPP-NPA has escalated its war against the government; when explosives have disemboweled citizens in Zamboanga and Metro Manila; when so- called cause-oriented groups march to Malacañang with their outrageous demands and to the U.S. Embassy to howl their hatred of Americans – at a time like this, the New York Philharmonic has come as an ambassador of goodwill to bring along with the joy of music its message of peace and harmony among nations.

For two enchanted evenings at the Main Theater of the CCP, I sat enraptured by the music of the masters as interpreted by Maestro Lorin Maazel and NYP. The visit of one of the world’s most eminent orchestras to Manila and other key cities in Asia is sponsored by Citibank.

Ms. Catherine M. Weir, Citibank Philippines country corporate officer, states: "This is the second time Citigroup brings the Philharmonic’s world-class music to Manila. Citigroup first presented the NYP to the country in 1998, to celebrate the Philippine Centennial. This year, the Philharmonic’s performance marks another milestone – Citigroup’s 100th year in the Philippines.

The first concert on Friday evening was a gift from the Citibank to its customers, business partners and communities. The second on Saturday was presented by the CCP to raise funds for its Arts for the People Program.

I will not tire the patience of my dear reader with a formal critique of these concerts. Let me simply jot down my personal impressions of these evenings.

Unexpectedly, I received two tickets from my paper at a late hour and I couldn’t get anyone to come with me. In an old polo shirt, I rushed to the CCP to find myself in the company of gentlemen in black suits and ladies in long gowns enjoying finger food and red wine. You know how a duck must feel among a flock of peacocks.

Beethoven’s Leonore Overture No. 3 came and went when I was in a daze but its resounding coda brought me back to my senses. Hey, guy, I told myself, you’ve waited three years for the NYP to come back. Now, prick your ears, enjoy, and do your job.

Debussy’s sea-pictures, La Mer: Three Symphonic Sketches, is a tonal evocation of the sights and sounds and changing moods of the sea. The work is what Leonard Bernstein classifies in his primer, The Joy of Music, as atmospheric pictorial. Commentators think that the composer might have been inspired by Hokusai’s print, "The Great Wave." However, I think that Debussy must certainly have seen the series of oils by the impressionist Monet depicting the sea in different hours of the day and different seasons of the year.

At any rate, Maestro Maazel captured on a tonal canvass the instrumental timbres and colors of his orchestral palette to recreate the composer’s visions of "From Dawn Till Noon on the Sea," "The Play of the Waves" and "Dialogue of the Wind and the Sea."

The last number was Sibelius’ Symphony No. 2 in D Major, op. 44, a work of epic proportions. The Finnish composer rejected the classical symphonic form and, like the Vikings of old, ventured into uncharted regions. His seven symphonies are a voyage of discovery to synthesize his own personal romantic visions.

The D Major opus represents an early stage of Sibelius’ plan but his progress is already much in evidence. The whole work germinates organically from the principal themes or groups of melodic material themes, gradually building up to a structure that only materializes in its full grandeur in climactic finale of the last movement and releasing such an outpouring of energy in the coda that is absolutely staggering – all of which Maestro Maazel and the NYP delivered with authority.

Such a performance demanded a thunderous standing ovation which the audience did not begrudge the visiting musicians who responded to the clamor for encores with Bizet’s "Farandole" from the L’ Arlesienne Suite and one of Brahm’s Hungarian Dances.

On my way out, I ran into critic Pablo Tariman who opined that a Filipino orchestra could attain the same level of excellence as the NYP, given the right artistic director; and Joan Orendain in a fabulous green terno (which reminded me of my rags) who offered me a ride.

The following evening, attired in polo barong, I escorted a visiting friend from Taipei, Luisa Sia, to the CCP for the second concert of the Philharmonic. I found myself seated between critic Tony Hila and editor Jullie Yap Daza who fired me three years ago from her paper.

The repertoire included Mussorgsky’s A Night on Bare Mountain, Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concerto No.2 in C minor, Op. 18 and Tchaikovsky’s Symphony No.5 in E minor, Op. 64.

The opener is another programmatic piece, one that tells a story – narrative-literary as categorized by Bernstein. Arranged by Rimsky-Korsakov, the work employs eerie instrumentation and wild rhythmic effects to conjure a Witches’ Sabbath, a parody of the Holy Mass, carried out by a coven of witches, warlocks, sorcerers and demons on a slope of Bald Mountain. The unholy congregation disperses with the coming of the dawn and the chime of the church bells. Mussorgsky concludes the work with a serene aubade form a shepherd’s flute. And Maestro Maazel wove his own magic with his baton to tell the tale.

The wonder-worker of the evening was Lang Lang who applied his wizardry to Rachmaninoff’s piano concerto. So much has been printed in the press about this prodigy form Red China and his extraordinary achievements at such a young age that one is inclined to expect too much and is eventually disenchanted. This is not the case of this twenty–year old virtuoso whose fingers can caress the keyboard like silk or slam it like steel.

The Rachmaninoff is a treasure-trove that Tin Pan Alley and Hollywood have raided for its nuggets of lovely melodies. The authoritative reading of Lang Lang and the NYP clears the air of bowdlerization and we heard the work in all its pristine beauty.

Tchaikovsky’s Fifth Symphony was anticlimactic. Personally I find it less appealing than either the Fourth of the Sixth. It sounds to me like patchwork of banal material and passages of shallow sentimentality. Its redeeming virtues are the pages in the score expressing depths of doubt and despair and the release from these to heights of hope, resignation to Fate and triumph of Faith. The account by Maestro Maazel and the Philharmonic of Tchaikovsky’s Fifth was absolutely incandescent.

It triggered an ovation by the audience – myself included – that exploded in the hall like a terrorist’s bomb that the visiting musicians calmed down the frenzy with Glinka’s Overture to Ruslan and Lyudmila and two of Brahm’s Hungarian Dances, the second of these being the same played the previous evening.

In her old age, Luisa will remember this visit as the time she attended the concert of the New York Philharmonic.

As for me, I can’t help indulging in wishful thinking. Can terrorism be checked with music? After all, doesn’t Congreve say that "Music hath charms to soothe the savage beast"?

Will I have to wait another three years to listen to the NYP at the CCP? What will I have to give for it – my right arm? A leg? The next time the Philharmonic comes to Manila, I vow that I will come to its concert even if I have become another victim of a terrorist attack. I will come limping on a peg-leg, or on crutches or in a wheelchair.

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