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The Russians are coming! And it's a good thing. In the finale performance of the 2003-2004 season, "Russian Romantics," the Las Vegas Philharmonic featured works from three great ones: Kabalevsky, Rachmaninoff, and some guy named Tchaikovsky.
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Dmitri
Kabalevsky
Sergei
Rachmaninoff
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All kidding aside, it is Dmitri Kabalevsky (1904-1987) that might be known as "some guy," since he lived in the shadow of the best-known Russian composers. The Comedians has long been a favorite of mine, and tonight's first piece, the overture from his opera Colas Breugnon, is similarly fast, imaginative, and joyous, with snare-and-tympani percussion and whimsical xylophone passages. Kabalevsky wrote pieces known for their accessibility to the people, as dictated by the Soviet government, but what amazes me is that anyone trying to avoid Stalin's gulags could produce music that is so much fun! Dmitri's better-known colleagues may have more gravitas as serious composers, but as another famous Russian said, "The proof of the pudding is in the eating." Tonight we were having dessert first, and it was sweet.
In 1934, pianist and composer Sergei Rachmaninoff (1873-1943) danced with the devil and lived to tell about it. His amazing Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini turns the Italian composer's Caprice No. 42 into a pseudo-concerto of tremendous technical wizardry. Paganini was frequently accused of having made a pact with Satan for his violin virtuosity, and in the Rhapsody Rachmaninoff develops the death-obsessed idea of the "Dies Irae" (day of wrath) in his 24 variations. It takes a brilliant pianist to pull off this piece, and tonight we certainly had one.
Valentina Lisitsa was born in Kiev, Ukraine, and has performed all over the world as a soloist and as a duo with her husband, Alexei Kuznetsoff. As she performed the Rhapsody from center stage, her long, slender hands moved so rapidly and yet with such grace and subtlety that it reminded me of a thousand butterflies fluttering above a meadow. Her finesse epitomized the phrase "tickling the ivories."
The central theme is developed and varied throughout the Rhapsody. During the introduction Valentina shares the melody with the strings; later she shares it in an unusual but beautiful section with the bassoon. The "theme" section itself has an intense, almost frantic sound. The first ten variations constitute a sort of first movement, and sections 11 through 18 a calmer second movement. The 18th variation is the one you've probably heard in movies or on television. It is sweet, stirring, and thematic; it sounds like romantic movie music. This variation actually turns Paganini's theme upside-down, and it was great fun (for a novice like me, anyway) trying to pick out the inverted passages.
It is fitting that the Rhapsody is based on a Caprice, since its mood changes so suddenly. The intensity of Valentina's playing could turn on a dime, and in the 19th variation it cranked up again. Some of the more urgent passages in the final "movement" were sharper and less pretty, containing what I call "pounding" on the piano, but the ending was worth the wait. The "Dies Irae" makes one last big appearance, and then the piano ends the Rhapsody sharply with what one critic called "a sardonic ending note." He was right! It sounded like Rachmaninoff telling the devil, "Okay, buh-bye!" The concert hall shook from the applause.
After many bows, Valentina sat back down at the piano, and we were thrilled. She performed "La Campanella," a very playful Franz Liszt etude with trills at the very top of the keyboard. Her obvious familiarity with the challenging piece made it seem as if it were merely a tune she kept on hand for impromptu showing off at beer parties! Beaming from another enthusiastic ovation, she finally sat down again and, giving us a "Just a little more!" gesture, played Frederic Chopin's wonderful "Minute Waltz." This rapid, lighthearted tune is very difficult, but she made it look easy and fun. We hated to see her go.
After intermission, conductor Hal Weller gave a moving dedication of tonight's concert to Andrew Tompkins, a longtime Las Vegas resident and music lover who, with his wife Susan and Maestro Weller, had founded the Philharmonic five years earlier. Also honored was the retiring principal clarinetist, Felix Viscuglia, who had played with the Boston and Utah Symphonies before coming to play and teach in Las Vegas late in his distinguished career. After this sentimental moment we were ready to hear one of history's most emotional composers.
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Peter
Tchaikovsky
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Peter Tchaikovsky (1840-1893) once received an odd bit of criticism from fellow composer Sergei Taneyev: his Fourth Symphony had a plot, and his colleague couldn't imagine why. (Today Taneyev would be a critic of adult films.) Here's how Tchaikovsky described this plot to his financial patron, Countess Nadezhda von Meck: the desperate first movement depicts fate hanging over the composer's head like a sword; the second depicts melancholy at the end of a hard day; the third mischievously describes fleeting images that appear "after one has drunk a little wine." Finally, the triumphant fourth movement completes the journey from darkness into light with his prescription for happiness: "Get out among the people. See how gay they are!" It was an ironic choice of words from the deeply troubled genius; he himself was gay but usually not happy.
The symphony is a powerful masterpiece. The intense horn passages make the first movement reminiscent of Mussorgsky's "Night on Bald Mountain." The second movement features a mournful oboe over soft plucked strings with lovely decoration by the flutes. The third movement's hallucinations are depicted in pizzicato by the entire string section. This unusual sound must be heard live to be fully appreciated. The final movement blows you away with a huge opening and furious "Ruslan and Ludmilla" string melodies. Near the end there is a sudden brief return of the first movement's desperate horn theme, as if Tchaikovsky considered relapsing into depression and then said, "Well . . . naaah." The music becomes very soft and tense, recalling the composer's own "1812 Overture," then builds into a quintessential Tchaikovsky ending — utterly huge, with the brass section blowing my hair back. What a way to end the season!
 As the crowd exited the hall, I heard some guy whistling the "Looney Tunes" theme, of all things. Well, it certainly had been an animated performance. Until next season, that's all, folks!
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By Robert LaGrone, Las Vegas Jetsetters Magazine Entertainment Editor.
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