When the search for a new conductor for the Lexington Philharmonic Orchestra began in September 2007, the Herald-Leader's Rich Copley speculated about some of the eleven programs being more difficult to conduct than others. The last two concerts certainly show that to be a valid issue.
Last month's concert, led by Scott Terrell, included works by Elgar, Respighi, Kodály and Haydn. The difficulty in that program was to make a major imprint out of minor works, a test that was mostly passed.
Friday night's concert, led by Jeffrey Pollock of Fort Worth, Texas, was anchored by one of the greatest monuments of human culture, Ludwig van Beethoven's Symphony No. 3 (Eroica). The balance of the program was Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart's Ballet Music from Idomeneo and Dmitri Shostakovich's Piano Concerto No. 1, works with some awkward problems built in.
The most positive aspect of Pollock's response was his mind. His grasp of every craggy detail of intensely complicated music seemed to be total. The trouble was also mental, best illuminated by a title of a book by the living legend of basketball coaches, John Wooden: Be Quick — But Don't Hurry.
When you conceive fast music in your head, the tempo you imagine is invariably much quicker than manageable in reality. If a conductor directs straight out of the mind, the beat will hurry.
The problem was amplified by Pollock's frequent decision to conduct the broadest beat of the meter (for example, instead of the fast three-beat that Beethoven wrote in his first movement, Pollock conducted one beat per measure). Risky, but it can be exhilarating. Even riskier, though, is the temptation to speed up the beat to mirror the cross-rhythms so elemental to Beethoven. The result was histrionics, not excitement.
Remember back to January 2006 to music of Alberto Ginastera, conducted by Gisele Ben-Dor, who was equally bold in changing speeds of beat. In her case, the propulsion of the music took care of itself, and the inner beat never wavered.
The craggy problem presented by Mozart's ballet music was continuity in a potpourri of many dances. These changes were handled with grace in decrescendos (a rare commodity in go-ahead Mozart). Sudden allegros were sometimes an adventure.
Shostakovich, however, was a more thoroughly positive adventure. What you remember most about this Shostakovich work is manic speed. The performers are either chasing demons or being chased by them. Guest pianist Conrad Tao was distinctly the chaser, not the chasee. And he was matched in fervor by conductor and orchestra (of strings and the round-toned trumpet of Mark Clodfelter). The fact that pianist Tao is a 14-year-old prodigy was soon eclipsed by his force of energy, and even better, his investment in tone.
Shostakovich's son, Dmitri Jr., recorded this concerto in a hard-eyed performance. Tao's performance, especially in the slow movement, seemed to go even deeper than the son's. There was pathos encircling a soul here, an intuitive understanding that you would like to follow as Tao's career develops. (His encore, Franz Liszt's Eleventh Hungarian Rhapsody, was all fairy dust and gypsy fire dance.)
In sum, this Philharmonic program was a gamble for Pollock, and he is to be congratulated for leading the orchestra with great courage and determination.
