[LJ2ME] Patetichesky
Expelliarmus! "The Disarming Charm is a defensive spell that aims to disarm an opponent, causing whatever is in the person's hand at the time, usually a wand, to fly out of his or her hand."
Who would have expected a death match between Harry Potter and Lord Voldemort in the middle of the SSO concert this evening when guest conductor, Krzysztof Urbanski's wand baton snapped mid performance. Instinctively, his head swivelled to follow the trajectory as the splinter ricocheted into the stalls, and as quickly recovered by continuing to conduct with the stump left in his right hand, as though non-plussed and indifferent.
His exuberant and indulgent baton technique had unwittingly struck the frame of the Steinway, explaining the accident. Fortunately, the first movement of Beethoven's Piano Concerto No 3 was drawing to a close and when it wrapped, his face was a picture of unreadable restraint and repression as he stepped off his dais and marched off stage for a replacement without a word. Meanwhile, the offending item was retrieved and passed from the audience to the musicians to return to the maestro later.
Urbanski provided the much-needed visual element to the aural element of the evening. He was as good to look at as his music making was as good to listen to. Impressively, he conducted from memory without the score in front throughout.
They say orchestra players dislike it when conductors do that for it either breeds of obnoxiousness or omnipresence. To have done so for the more mainstream aforementioned concerto and Tchaikovsky's Symphony No 6 was acceptable but he actually pulled it off with the contemporary Orawa by his Polish compatriot Wojciech Kilar, which was leaning towards showing off.
In almost canonic fashion, leader Alexander Souptel started a driven and determined melody on solo violin which did recall Kilar's atmospheric soundtrack music, most notably Coppola's Dracula. Scored for a string orchestra, the work picked up when other members joined in progressively, the rocking rhythm waxing and waning, reminiscent of nonedescript European movie music, recalling scenes of passing time and space.
For the Beethoven, our star soloist for the evening was the Russian virtuoso Dmitri Alexeev, who looked a shadow of himself in his profile photo. He was all absorbed concentration as the orchestral overture got underway and when he made his entry, there was no concern over keeping up appearances.
His technique was one strongly grounded in a stable foundation, and was both practical and functional, serving the music alone as opposed to stoking the musician's ego. When he launched into the martial and mercurial cadenza, his head-shaking involvement as though possessed had his jowls flapping, distracting but distinguishing.
The Pathetique was offered as the piece de resistance after the intermission, Urbanski delivered the Tchaikovsky without affair. The audience was most well-behaved and not once did untimed applause ring out, as much as one resisted doing so when the unscheduled "break" literally and figuratively was remedied. Even when the climactic and cataclysmic third movement drew to its resounding resolution, the house remained silent.
Ideal circumstances then for the SSO to pull off the tender aching closing chapter of the masterpiece. The strings searing and soaring as the conductor almost literally pulled and wrenched music off the staves off the score and crafted them in his most expressive left hand. And how bewitching were his eyes, a medley of ice-blues and slate-greys and olive-greens, closed in rapture or blazing with passion as he conveyed his intentions through the veritable windows to the soul. When the cello and double bass section brought the work to fruition with a low throb, it was almost too beautiful to want it to end.
I hope the SSO invites and rebooks this high-flying conductor again soon. One can't fault him for the mental and physical stimulation he stirs up within.
Who would have expected a death match between Harry Potter and Lord Voldemort in the middle of the SSO concert this evening when guest conductor, Krzysztof Urbanski's wand baton snapped mid performance. Instinctively, his head swivelled to follow the trajectory as the splinter ricocheted into the stalls, and as quickly recovered by continuing to conduct with the stump left in his right hand, as though non-plussed and indifferent.
His exuberant and indulgent baton technique had unwittingly struck the frame of the Steinway, explaining the accident. Fortunately, the first movement of Beethoven's Piano Concerto No 3 was drawing to a close and when it wrapped, his face was a picture of unreadable restraint and repression as he stepped off his dais and marched off stage for a replacement without a word. Meanwhile, the offending item was retrieved and passed from the audience to the musicians to return to the maestro later.
Urbanski provided the much-needed visual element to the aural element of the evening. He was as good to look at as his music making was as good to listen to. Impressively, he conducted from memory without the score in front throughout.
They say orchestra players dislike it when conductors do that for it either breeds of obnoxiousness or omnipresence. To have done so for the more mainstream aforementioned concerto and Tchaikovsky's Symphony No 6 was acceptable but he actually pulled it off with the contemporary Orawa by his Polish compatriot Wojciech Kilar, which was leaning towards showing off.
In almost canonic fashion, leader Alexander Souptel started a driven and determined melody on solo violin which did recall Kilar's atmospheric soundtrack music, most notably Coppola's Dracula. Scored for a string orchestra, the work picked up when other members joined in progressively, the rocking rhythm waxing and waning, reminiscent of nonedescript European movie music, recalling scenes of passing time and space.
For the Beethoven, our star soloist for the evening was the Russian virtuoso Dmitri Alexeev, who looked a shadow of himself in his profile photo. He was all absorbed concentration as the orchestral overture got underway and when he made his entry, there was no concern over keeping up appearances.
His technique was one strongly grounded in a stable foundation, and was both practical and functional, serving the music alone as opposed to stoking the musician's ego. When he launched into the martial and mercurial cadenza, his head-shaking involvement as though possessed had his jowls flapping, distracting but distinguishing.
The Pathetique was offered as the piece de resistance after the intermission, Urbanski delivered the Tchaikovsky without affair. The audience was most well-behaved and not once did untimed applause ring out, as much as one resisted doing so when the unscheduled "break" literally and figuratively was remedied. Even when the climactic and cataclysmic third movement drew to its resounding resolution, the house remained silent.
Ideal circumstances then for the SSO to pull off the tender aching closing chapter of the masterpiece. The strings searing and soaring as the conductor almost literally pulled and wrenched music off the staves off the score and crafted them in his most expressive left hand. And how bewitching were his eyes, a medley of ice-blues and slate-greys and olive-greens, closed in rapture or blazing with passion as he conveyed his intentions through the veritable windows to the soul. When the cello and double bass section brought the work to fruition with a low throb, it was almost too beautiful to want it to end.
I hope the SSO invites and rebooks this high-flying conductor again soon. One can't fault him for the mental and physical stimulation he stirs up within.