perlman on the podium

Today was an interesting day, and I mean that in the non-parenthetical way, i.e., it was not “interesting” but interesting. I’ll attempt to explain why.

Over the course of the last several years, the way the orchestra plays, and more specifically, the way the strings play has been profoundly influenced by Carlos Kalmar. Textures have been lightened by the use of less vibrato, more bow, and less pressure of the bow on the string. Not for all music all the time, but especially in the music of early Romantic composers on back, it is a pretty reliable feature of our string sound.

This was a sharp departure from the way that James DePreist wanted the strings to sound. He was a product of the Philadelphia Sound as perfected by Stokowski and Ormandy, and he had that sound in his “ear” for nearly all of his repertoire. It is a sort of no-holds-barred style of playing, and the perils of this style have much to do with pushing the sound too much and losing a sense of coherent rhythm. It has the advantage of being a fun way to play and of giving a more present sound in the horrid acoustic that is the Arlene Schnitzer Concert Hall.

So, here we all were on a bright, sunny Thursday at 10:00 in the morning awaiting the arrival of Itzhak Perlman on the podium to begin rehearsal. I, for one, was a bit apprehensive. Would he be the genial presence you see in his live and broadcast public performances, or would he be a taskmaster, bent only on achieving what he wanted and the sound of the orchestra be damned? Well, a little of both, if you must ask, and I mean it only in the nicest way. He is a wonderful person on first meeting, and his immense heart (and hands) are immediately apparent.  He has a non-threatening way (except for the fact that Itzhak Perlman is telling you to do it) of getting the sounds and shapes that he wants, but he is insistent about what he wants and isn’t afraid to tell you twice or even three times if necessary.
We spent the first portion of the rehearsal reading through the major work on the program, Dvorak’s Eighth Symphony. He is not a conductor who imposes his will on the orchestra through overt gestures. He sort of prods this way and that in a rather understated fashion – he clearly trusts the skills of a major orchestra to get through a standard piece such as the Dvorak.

As the rehearsal goes on, he makes more small remarks, mostly to the strings, about the use of vibrato and the bow, and the sound of the strings changes – subtly at first, and then gradually becomes warmer, richer, and more diffuse. [I should add at this point that one of the first things he said to our principal violist Joël Belgique on the podium just before rehearsal began was “I hear this is the orchestra that doesn’t use much vibrato.”] He’s clearly a product of the golden age of musical training in America, and it’s much like making a recipe from “Mastering the Art of French Cooking” as opposed to Dr. Weill’s “The Healthy Kitchen”. Each approach is valid and true, but one is definitely a guilty pleasure.

The second, afternoon rehearsal was spent on the lovely and ubiquitous Tchaikovsky Serenade for Strings. By now we in the strings are happily doing whatever Maestro Itzhak wants, and though rhythm and tone are getting a bit scrappy (the pendulum always swings too far at first) the mood is fairly positive. We’re pretty much over our star-struck phase of the first rehearsal (especially when you’re on the front stands and this legend is a mere arm’s length away!) and it’s much like a usual guest conductor relationship.

That’s it for rehearsal coverage – I’ll post after the first two concerts to let you know how things are shaping up. Stay tuned…