May 7–14, 1998

music|reviews

Barber-isms

The Philadelphia Orchestra: Zdenek Macal, conductor. Pamela Frank, violin. April 18, Academy of Music

1807 and Friends, April 20, Academy of Vocal Arts

It may have been a mere coincidence, but it seemed fitting that two Monday evenings ago, amidst a series of performances of Samuel Barber's wonderful Violin Concerto by the Philadelphia Orchestra, that a recital of Barber's songs would also occur. The Concerto, written in 1940, may not represent a nationalistic American response to the great European concertos of the time by Bartok, Prokofiev, Berg and Sibelius, but it is a superb piece of music that deserves to be included in those ranks, distinguished, above all else, by a rapturous singing line. The pulsing narrative of the opening movement is built around a grand melody of lilting graciousness and firm structure that lingers in your ears for days.

And what a sublimely confident, richly explored reading was rendered by violinist Pamela Frank, accompanied by the Orchestra under the steady baton of Zdenek Macal, the music director of the New Jersey Symphony. It's a refreshing pleasure to hear a serious young artist play beautiful music with intelligence and tonal splendor, without recourse to histrionic stage mannerisms, unusual hair cuts, glitzy clothes or pretentious name changes. Even in the fierce final movement (which was too difficult for the original soloist for the work to play), Frank eschewed the usual brash, virtuosic style, instead echoing the lyrical shape of the previous movements in a revelatory way. The evening was another reminder that Pamela Frank is one of the most satisfying violinists of her generation.

The soaring lyricism of the Violin Concerto readily suggests that Barber was a competent composer of music for the voice. While still a student at Curtis, in 1932, he composed Dover Beach, a setting of a poem by Matthew Arnold for baritone and string quartet. This is a superb composition of architectural integrity and a reverent respect for the poetry. Arnold's heart-breaking homage to the beauty and passion of life, as viewed from the corpse-strewn battlefields of the first World War, where he himself would die, is set with astonishing grace and mature emotional repose by the young composer.

At a concert by 1807 and Friends, baritone Kevin McDowell sang with deftly shaped dramatic nuance, but also with an urgency, following the rich flow of the language, that lent this performance an operatic dynamic contour. McDowell opened the concert with three later songs by Barber accompanied by Davyd Booth, the versatile violinist, and, in this case, pianist of the group.

The core group of 1807 and Friends, the Wister Quartet, consisting of Nancy Bean on violin, Booth on violin, Pamela Fay on viola and Lloyd Smith on cello, rounded out the evening with quartets of Smetana and Beethoven. There may be string quartets around with more polish and precision than this foursome, but few, if any, that present the music in such a vivid and engaging manner. Following Bean's intense and utterly honest lead, the quartet produces a sound that leaps from the stage directly into the hearts and minds of the audience. Not for these musicians the prissy, self-absorbed manner of so many of the superstars of the day. The Wister gathers the notes off the pages of the score and hurls them at listeners who are showered with real music.

-Peter Burwasser