Mendelssohn may have written the notes, but at Blaisdell Concert Hall Friday night, it was Nadja Salerno-Sonnenberg who created the music. REVIEW
Violinist interprets
MendelssohnReview by Ruth O. Bingham
Special to the Star-BulletinShe strode on stage, put bow to strings, and played probably the most popular violin concerto of all time. But this was not the Mendelssohn you've heard before. Or ever will again, in all likelihood: For Salerno-Sonnenberg, every performance is different.
She began not with the self-confident flourish of those famous opening lines, but delicately, almost dreamily, as though working her way into the music and listening to where it would go this time.
"I've played it probably about 1,000 times," she said, referring to Mendelssohn's Violin Concerto in E Minor, Opus 64. Every note sounded like an old friend, the technical figuration tossed off as inconsequential ornamentation -- which it is, musically speaking.
Salerno-Sonnenberg presented a wonderfully dramatic, idiosyncratic reading full of swoops, extreme pianissimos and extraordinarily flexible tempos, which guest conductor Derrick Inouye adroitly accommodated.
It was a performance you either loved or hated. It was also a performance that raised one of the most fundamental aesthetic issues of classical music: Are performers conveyers of great art works, dedicated to reproducing "authentically" correct versions? Or do they re-create the music with each performance, making each performance a personal reaction to the black dots on the page?
Was Friday night's performance Mendelssohn or Salerno-Sonnenberg?
For some, of course, so many deviations from "the norm" and so much emotion distract and detract. ("That's not how it's supposed to go!") It is certainly easier to "follow along" than to have your expectations continually surprised, but it is also less interesting.
When "perfect" performances are a dime a dozen, it is rare to find someone who has something new to say, especially in music that has been played continuously for over 150 years. In short, Salerno-Sonnenberg is a national treasure.
Much of the power of music is its ability to reach past our facades to reveal inner selves. Salerno-Sonnenberg was aurally riveting because she shared a personal vision. Very few performers dare to be so vulnerable; the last was probably pianist Glenn Gould. After all, if you truly reveal yourself through the music and the audience doesn't like what they hear, then what they don't like is not the music, but you.
Live performance doesn't get any better. It elicited honest reactions. Salerno-Sonnenberg received both polite, unenthusiastic applause by those firmly seated and a standing ovation peppered with appreciative whoops and "bravas."
There was more to the concert than just Salerno-Sonnenberg's Mendelssohn, of course.
In the second half, maestro Derrick Inouye led the Honolulu Symphony through a well-crafted interpretation of Franck's Symphony. ("I think this is the only place in the U.S. where I hear the name 'Inouye' pronounced correctly," he commented.) The orchestra responded well to Inouye, with excellent balance and sensitive playing.
The symphony showcased the orchestra's brass: five French horns, four trumpets, three trombones and tuba, reverberating like a huge pipe organ with all stops open. Michael Szabo on bass trombone and Jerome Stover on tuba contributed notable highlights.
Prominent solos were taken by two newcomers: flutist David Buck, whose pure, sweet tone should mature well; and Jason Sudduth in a graceful reading of that famous English horn melody in the second movement.
Inouye opened the concert with John Adams's "Short Ride in a Fast Machine" (1986), a breathless five-minute dash that proved to be a favorite for many. Exhilarating at first, the piece progressed through terrifying excitement to climax in measured cacophony.
Percussionist Riely Francis anchored the orchestra's complex rhythms and meters with his maniacally incessant woodblock metronome, a part that sounds easier than it is to play.
"Short Ride" can be hair-raisingly edgy only when conductor and musicians know it so well they can let go and fly. Inouye retained tight control Friday night and the orchestra was still counting scrupulously, but the ride was still exciting.
Ruth O. Bingham reviews classical music for the Star-Bulletin.