Internationally renowned cellist Yo-Yo MaJust as some stars burn brighter than others in the night sky, so does the classical music firmament boast of its novas and supernovas. Thus it was that the Tivoli Theatre stood aglow with one of the concert world's brightest constellations on Thursday evening-Yo-Yo Ma, cellist extraordinaire.
At least, those were the expectations that persuaded patrons to shell out two or three times the normal ticket price to see and hear the celebrated virtuoso in action. It was all in a good cause, of course, as a gala fund-raiser for the Chattanooga Symphony Orchestra-and it was worth the price.
Notwithstanding the debate about whether classical music superstars do more to help or hinder the long range future of classical music, one must admit that it's great fun to see and hear really famous people, and you don't get any "famouser" than Yo-Yo Ma.
He was a wunderkind, of course, appearing with Leonard Bernstein on the "Johnny Carson Tonight Show" at 8 years of age. But instead of fizzling out in later life, he's gone on to inherit the mantle of cellist Pablo Casals, set the standard for contemporary cello playing, plus expanding the scope of what a "classical" musician performs-leading to albums such as "The Goat Rodeo Sessions" and "Appalachian Journey" (American acoustic/roots music) and "Silk Road Journeys" (music of Asia in traditional and contemporary garb), as well as traditional classical albums. He's issued over 90 albums (garnering 17 Grammys), has played with every international orchestra and chamber ensemble of significance, and performed at President Barack Obama's inauguration.
The evening's musical fare featured the work of a single composer, Antonin Dvorak (1841-1904), who was slowly climbing the ladder of musical success in Bohemia when he accepted an invitation to head New York City's newly-formed National Academy of Music in 1892. As a composer, Dvorak had always included folk music in his works to some degree, and in America, it was no different. He eagerly soaked up the novelties of African-American and Native American music, incorporating their spirit-although not direct quotations-into his current symphonic project, Symphony #9, Op 95, e minor, "From the New World." Its debut at Carnegie Hall in 1893 was a hit and has lost none of its luster over the intervening years.
Dvorak's symphonies contain all the elements that make listening to an orchestral work fulfilling - aching melodies, blazing brass, charming woodwind solos, and soaring emotion. This is exciting stuff, appealing to beginners and connoisseurs. Maestro Kyoko Dan led her forces through the first movement, filled with explosive outbursts and sensitive dynamic expression.
Movement two, "Largo" - often called "Goin' home" after words that were later attached - is familiar to everyone, and its famous, melancholy English horn solo was sensitively performed by Carey Shinbaum.
Ms. Dan managed the ensemble with tenderness and sympathy in this perennially moving music.
In movement three, where the composer apparently paints some scenes from Longfellow's "The Song of Hiawatha," the energy lagged a bit, lacking in sufficient furry and incisiveness, but it was more than compensated for in the final movement with its lovely lyrical playing and powerful statements from the horn section. It concluded in a proper blaze of glory--after recalling themes from its previous movements--and elicited an immediate standing ovation from a full house.
The second half the program was certainly the focus of anticipation with another work by Dvorak. By comparison with its higher-pitched cousin, the violin, the cello boasts a limited number of concerti written for it. However, within that relatively short list, the Concerto for Violoncello in b Minor, Op. 104, sits at the top. It was also composed - for the most part - during Dvorak's years in America but reflects his homesickness and longing for an unrequited love back in Bohemia. Quotes from his vocal composition "Leave me alone" - his beloved's favorite - dot the second and third movements.
Striding confidently onto the stage with his trademark smile that could be understood from the distant back row, cellist Yo-Yo Ma entered to thunderous applause. Perched atop a low platform, he waited eagerly as the orchestra, in standard classic era style, first introduced the tunes from the opening movement. Then Mr. Ma dove in with an energy that was contagious, often turning to either side with encouraging looks to his fellow players. His rich vibrato, noble melodies, deft display and magically hushed performance was mesmerizing. And his duet with the flute was magical. In fact, Mr. Ma spent much of the movement in musical dialog with other instruments.
Movement two featured lush, soaring lines that dripped with pathos as the soloist rocked back and forth with constant animation. More dialog with two clarinets and a quasi-cadenza (the only one in the whole concerto) that led into a final section of exquisite playing that revealed the performer as more a member of the ensemble than a soloist. Yet, one couldn't ignore the elegance of playing, profound depth of feeling and bravura technique.
Final movements are usually occasions for musical fireworks, but Dvorak, after a vigorous march turned inward, composing some haunting passages. Here, the depth of music and performer seemed to combine to produce one of those musically transformative experiences. Mr. Ma has the gravity and soul to play lengthy, subdued sections that were so quiet, one almost had to strain to hear; yet they were vibrant and brimming with life. Instead of building to a momentous climax, the work seems to offer a reverent prayer (part of the composer's song "Leave me alone") as its final thought. Rather than calling for impressive technical displays (like a final cadenza), this concerto plumbs the depths of profound feeling - something Mr. Ma obviously experiences as he plays.
Maestro Dan seemed particularly animated on the podium, perhaps basking in the joyous interplay between her ensemble and a musical legend. She had earlier admitted to the assembled throng that she couldn't wipe the smile off her face, resulting from an earlier rehearsal.
After the final chord, Yo-Yo Ma was adamant about sharing the spotlight equally with his fellow performers and conductor Dan. His sense of joy in this marvelous music throughout the concerto was overwhelming-and everyone in the place felt it.
Sustained applause called him back to play an unaccompanied Southern folk melody that revealed the nobility of simple gifts. For now, that bright constellation may have left Chattanooga but many of its listeners are still basking in its glow.