Since its premiere by the Chicago Symphony Orchestra a decade ago, John Corigliano’s Symphony No. 1 has come to be embraced as a timely commiseration in our AIDS-plagued years, a powerfully eloquent remembrance of those who died too young for us to grow old with.
More than a hundred orchestras here and abroad have performed it, for the New York-based Corigliano, who rarely writes music that doesn’t touch the heart, knew how to convey through elemental, easy-to-grasp musical effects the universality of anger and grief.
This symphony’s intense emotional tug was demonstrated anew in a performance Wednesday night by the Grant Park Orchestra, ever a champion of American music, under the baton of principal conductor Carlos Kalmar. For the sparse crowd that showed up in spite of the soggy weather, the reward was to witness musicians charged up by the gravity and immensity of a work.
Corigliano broke no stylistic ground with his symphony. He patterned it, in a way, after the AIDS quilt that had moved him. Each movement is a panel in a musical tapestry, recalling a close friend and others not so close. And each traces the emotional arch of fury followed by fond memory, resignation and anger again–think of the sad, hypnotic Albeniz tango associated with a pianist friend that interrupts the ferocious gesturing in the first movement. Only in the finale, when all the melodic fragments return to bid adieu, does the music finally soften into acceptance.
Kalmar, who spoke briefly about the symphony’s relevance, proved it by skillfully guiding the orchestra through its impassioned outbursts and moments of tender camaraderie. Especially poignant was the cello dialogue in the third movement; also vivid was the frenzied tarantella that depicts AIDS-induced dementia. But, here and there, not all the instrumental sections could keep pace with Kalmar. These were minor blemishes in an otherwise compelling account, although the spell was disrupted toward the end by fireworks over Navy Pier.
The concert opened with Dvorak’s Scherzo Capriccioso, that felicitous stretch of nostalgia for rustic Bohemia. The orchestra gave it a shapely, buoyant reading, one that prevailed over the capricious beat of a summer drizzle.
John Browning was the soloist in Prokofiev’s Piano Concerto No. 3, which coincidentally was also premiered by the CSO, albeit nearly 70 years prior to the Corigliano. It’s a sardonic, deviously playful concerto, and it could easily be turned into a crowd-pleasing showcase of flashy techniques and theatrical exaggerations.
Browning didn’t stoop to pandering. Instead, he lent a suave, ethereal touch to the mostly giddy music (playing a Baldwin covered by a plastic sheet). He dispatched the rapid arpeggios and chords with admirable ease, but he also balanced the acrobatic display with a poetical air. The partnership between him and the orchestra was tight, allowing for seamless give-and-takes.
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The program will be repeated at 7:30 p.m. Friday at the Petrillo Music Shell, Columbus Drive at Jackson Boulevard.
