Perhaps it is the unseasonably warm weather that persists—although we’ve survived warm, dry autumns before. Still, things feel a bit different in Knoxville’s classical music scene this fall. First, it was the Knoxville Symphony Orchestra’s opening Masterworks concert—a truly remarkable performance for a season opener—that sold out its Friday night concert of the pair. Then, yesterday, the KSO opened its popular Chamber Classics Series at the Bijou Theatre displaying the same sort of energetic sharpness and confident ensemble playing that marked that Masterworks evening featuring Holst’s The Planets. For Sunday’s audience, those characteristics translated into performances that took advantage of the Bijou’s crystal clear acoustics for chamber-size ensembles and offered an afternoon of three works, featuring first a multi-layered tonal painting, then some sophisticated conversation, and, finally, a dose of string honey.
Following the KSO’s objective of using local players and orchestra personnel as soloists in its Sunday Chamber Classics concerts, the centerpiece of the afternoon—Mozart’s Sinfonia concertante for Violin, Viola, and Orchestra in E-flat Major, K. 364—featured lovingly rendered performances from KSO principal second violin, Edward Pulgar, and principal viola, Katy Gawne. Mozart wrote the solo parts in a conversational style, with phrases being taken by one, then passed off to the other for reflection or commentary. It was in this entertaining and enlightened conversation that the two veteran players excelled and impressed, accomplished by creating a narrative constructed of the golden, mellow tones of Gawne’s viola, contrasted with the more crystalline directness of Pulgar’s violin. Just as every conversation has moments of emphatic harmonic agreement, the two combined beautifully in the Allegro movement’s cadenza.
That opening movement is qualified by Mozart as Allegro maestoso, the mood made possible by Mozart’s inclusion of two oboes and two horns in the instrumentation in addition to a chamber complement of strings. Also interesting as historical note is the “Mannheim” crescendo in the movement that was probably heard as revolutionary at the time, but comes across today as merely a slightly surprising anomaly of dynamics. It’s all in one’s perspective, I guess.
The slower Andante movement, perfectly scaled back in tempo by maestro Aram Demirjian, had the necessary touch of melancholy tinged with anguish in tone from both soloists. As the conversation turned darker and emotionally expressive, one could sense Pulgar and Gawne reaching out to each other in their roles, searching for light and hope, but perhaps resigned to fate indicated by the minor tonality.
In the finale Presto movement, Demirjian fearlessly ramped into a substantial tempo that was the necessary fresh energetic contrast to the Andante. For a moment, I feared that the tempo might leave some fingers behind and phrasing undone, but details did not seem to be affected and the contrast worked in pulling the listener right along.
The string honey of the afternoon came from Tchaikovsky’s Serenade for Strings, a substitution that turned out to be a perfect piece to follow the Mozart in terms of drama and mood. Demirjian immediately made it clear this was not to be a contemplative reading, but instead one of energy and tonal depth that made use of the rich string sonority built majestically in the most positive way. While the orchestra’s performance of the Elégie movement was hauntingly emotional, the return of Tchaikovsky’s opening theme in the finale felt pivotal—the essence of the successful unifying dramatic denouement that artists and musicians strive for, but few ever achieve.
It just feels wrong to mention Dosia McKay, a Knoxville composer, and her Unveiling, for String Orchestra at the end of this review, for, in many ways, it was a perfect preface to the Mozart and Tchaikovsky—one that I immediately wanted to hear again. The work is a marvelously satisfying construction of layers, starting with a single note that is added onto, expanded, displaced, and offset with a surprising complexity of abstract phrases.
It wasn’t surprising to read in McKay’s bio that she is a cellist, which partially explains the beautiful solo passage that she left for KSO principal cello, Andy Bryenton. An equally descriptive passage was played expressively by KSO concertmaster William Shaub. I’m voting for additional performances of McKay’s music in the future.
The KSO’s next Chamber Classics Series concert comes on Sunday, November 3, offering picturesque and folksy works by Ravel (Mother Goose Suite), Prokofiev (Peter and the Wolf), Sibelius (Valse Triste), and Stravinsky (Pulcinella Suite).
