A concert of contrasts

Prokofiev looking "baleful"
c. 1918

Yesterday afternoon at the symphony we heard Prokofiev's Third Symphony and Tchaikovsky's First Piano Concerto, played by pianist Stephen Hough. Click here to read to Hough's personal blog entry about his visit to Seattle. He likes Seattle (who doesn't?) and wrote about his plan to walk from his hotel to Benaroya Hall for his performances. When we were parking the car, John spotted him on Union street headed for the concert hall. He had on red gloves on to protect his beautiful hands and was carrying an umbrella. Just an ordinary man, walking down the street. Who would have guessed he is an internationally famous concert pianist? Such is "celebrity" in the classical music world-- any silly starlet would have an entourage of fifty.

A local reviewer wrote in the newspaper that the popular Tchaikovsky piano concerto was the audience's reward for sitting through the baleful and turgid Prokofiev Third Symphony. Other words he used to describe poor Prokofiev's music were vehement, hysterical, muddy, and sheer unrestrained violence. Also rebarbative. Well, he made up that word. But baleful we should use more often. It means: something that is menacing or foreshadows evil. As in, a baleful look.

But soon it was over, and Hough was on the stage. I've never been to a performance of Tchaikovsky's Piano Concerto when the audience didn't jump up at the end for a standing ovation. In Seattle, they usually they clap after the first movement, too. Everyone loves it and the melodies are so familiar.

The picture above is the guest conductor Pablo Heras-Casado. He was born in 1977, if you can imagine conducting a major symphony orchestra at his tender age. We sit in the 4th row and have a good view of the stage, conductor, and soloists.

It was a nice afternoon, marred only by the automated parking machine that charged John $9.58 and refused to give him a receipt. It was one of those November days where it feels like a gray, cold blanket is wrapped around Seattle. You couldn't even see across Elliot Bay. Goodness, it felt good to get safely home through the murk, open the wine and eat pasta and meatballs for dinner.