I’m down with the dude, conductor Gustovo Dudamel.
Got a big dose of him and I’m now under his spell.
Or at least I was for two full hours Sunday (1/8/11) afternoon at Disney Hall. A week-long trip to California for otherwise non-music purposes happily coincided with the opportunity to hear Dudamel lead the Los Angeles Philharmonic in an attractive, high-energy program – Adams, Bernstein, Beethoven – that they’re soon taking on a European tour. The event was also broadcast in HD to movie houses across the country launching the orchestra’s efforts to mimic the Metropolitan Opera’s popular broadcasts.
Dudamel doesn’t need my anointing, his celebrity is already securely in place. But whether it’s his music making or his role as a pied piper leading new audiences into concert halls, he’s just what classical music needs.
This wasn’t my first visit to the Walt Disney Concert Hall but encountering the Frank Gehry building is still a thrill. Inside the auditorium the stage is surrounded by audience seating. Not as much at the Philharmonie in Berlin, but I’d say a quarter of the audience is either to the side of the stage or even behind it. I was seated to the conductor’s left, and thus able to get a fine view of Dudamel’s face and his technique. Every time he gestured to the first violins, it was in my direction. If this overview of the experience emphasizes watching more than listening, well so be it. I know the repertoire at hand well enough that if there were problems in the performances my ears would get the final say, not my eyes.
Opening the program was Adams‘ “Slominsky’s Earbox.” With layer upon layer of rhythm and color, an especially busy percussion section and a surplus of ostinatos, it brought to mind a children’s music class in the Orff technique though with a whole lot more heft. Dudamel’s eyes were on the score for much of the piece and his quick gestures were tight and controlled. His hands were up near his face, his forearms seldom dropping below a 45 degree angle. With his rather pale complexion and those dark curly locks dangling over his forehead, he resembled an evil scientist, or maybe the crazed doc from “Back to the Future.” But there were flashes of joy and surprise on his face. These often came midway through various short phrases, like he hardly knew the pasage would turn out the way it did and that he wanted tell the players “good going!”
Bernstein’s Symphony No. 1 “Jeremiah,” which came next, is a more expansive piece but also infused with buoyant American (and Latin) rhythms. The piece was preceded by a short video of Dudamel rehearsing and discussing it. He remarked that the second movement may be called “Profanation” but it sure is fun. Indeed it was. The whole piece was a pleasure, even the final “Lamentation” movement. My only complaint is that mezzo-soprano Kelley O’Connor, who was placed in the midst of the orchestra, got rather drowned out. I think that may have something to do with the position of my seat though. Heard in a piano rehearsal during that video, she displayed a huge voice.
Even if a piece by Bernstein wasn’t on the program, comparisons between Lenny and Dudamel would have come to mind. There’s the lively and accessible presence, and a body language on the podium that serves as an emotional guide through the music for the audience as much as for the orchestra. And in that video, Dudamel wore a pastel blue polo shirt and a pink sweater slung over his shoulders, the arms knotted together and hanging below his neck. Bernstein had that same nonchalant, preppy style.
After intermission came Beethoven’s Symphony No. 7, which Dudamel conducted from memory. It was his most personal performance on the program. Much of his work up to this point was just setting the right tempos with the Adams all about throwing cues. But the Beethoven showed an interpretative mind. The tempos and dynamics were often a shade restrained and yet there was a playfulness and joy to it all as well. The Allegretto, probably the most serious music making of the afternoon, was sustained and full bodied but also somehow suspended and floating.
The capacity crowd gave a huge ovation and Dudamel returned for about five curtain calls before offering an unexpected encore, Brahms’ Hungarian Dance No. 1. My guest, a local, said that Dudamel gets this kind of ovation at most every performance. I doubt, though, that he has encores in the ready. The Brahms was rehearsed and performed in preparation for the European tour.
By the way, another celebrity was briefly onstage. At curtain time, Vanessa Williams strode out in heels and a cocktail dress. Reading off cue cards and looking straight into a camera, she gave a buoyant welcome. Then turning crisply to the stage door, she continued with something like, “Now let’s see what’s happening backstage.” And promptly walked off, never to be seen or heard from again – at least by those of us in the actual house. No matter. I’ll check out a future broadcast of Dudamel from Disney Hall, but won’t soon forget hearing this concert live.
ADDENDUM: Some reviews of the concert as seen and heard through the HD broadcast can be read at this NPR site.
