Santa Rosa Symphony Opening Concert Review

October 15, 2007

North Bay Classical Music online

Bruno Ferrandis has lifted the Santa Rosa Symphony high in the air, but his grasp is not yet entirely secure. In the opening concert set of the 2007-2008 season, he displayed prodigious musicality and supple control of all the symphony’s sonic factions, but his choice of soloists and visual accompaniments left something to be desired.

The Monday, Oct. 15, concert began promisingly, with a convincing performance of “Un Sourire,” by Olivier Messiaen. This brief work, composed late in Messiaen’s 20th-century-spanning career, begins with a hushed, meditative figure in the strings, followed by a rapid, bird-like outburst from the winds. This pattern is repeated several times during the piece, like a French version of Charles Ives’s “The Unanswered Question.” Ferrandis conducted with the utmost precision, making abrupt cutoffs and sweeping gestures, as demanded by the richly contrasting score. Alas, the piece concluded shortly after it began, providing only the briefest glimpse into Messiaen’s beguiling sonic universe. One can only hope that more substantial Messiaen will be offered in future seasons.

The exhilaration of the Messiaen raised expectations for the next piece, Gustav Mahler’s “Lieder eines fahrenden Gesellen” (Songs of a Wayfarer). Sadly, they were unfulfilled because mezzo-soprano soloist Jacalyn Kreitzer was simply not up to the job. She had too much vibrato, her German was indistinct, and she failed to project above the orchestra in many passages. To be fair, her voice did exhibit a certain dusky beauty. Perhaps she would have been better served by memorizing her part and engaging the audience, rather than hiding behind a score.

The orchestra, meanwhile, played like champions. Ferrandis’s long arms and even longer fingers swept through the air like a raptor’s wings, almost bridging the gap between the first violins and their viola counterparts across the stage. His control of the orchestra’s dynamics was complete, particularly in the fourth song, when he quieted them to a shimmering whisper, above which one could finally hear the mezzo’s German: “Ich bin ausgegangen in stiller Nacht” (I went out in the still night).

Freed of their subservient role, the orchestra was ready to show off in the second half by playing one of the 20th century’s flashiest pieces: Gustav Holst’s “The Planets.” Unfortunately, they were now shackled to images of those orbiting spheres projected on an inadequate screen above them. Instead of a widescreen movie, the result was more like a living room slide show. The orchestra would crescendo and diminuendo, accelerate and retard, but the various planets just kept spinning around, each one the same size as its predecessor.

It was relatively easy, however, to ignore the screen and focus on the music, which was spectacular. Ferrandis began the opening “Mars” section with a tremendous crescendo and a driving rhythm that perfectly conveyed the planet’s bellicose, blood-stained reputation. The cellos were particularly effective, playing with great drive and excellent intonation. They were matched by the shimmering upper strings in “Venus,” where each section trades off luxuriant, serene lines.