Cleveland Orchestra @ Severance Hall 1/6 More than one orchestral conducting career has been founded—or at least been given a push upwards—by an indisposition of the originally scheduled conductor. To be sure, James Gaffigan, Assistant Conductor of the Cleveland Orchestra was already off to an auspicious start in his conducting career, and didn’t really need the boost offered by the ear infection that kept Music Director Franz Welser-Möst at home in Austria. With only a slight change to the scheduled program (Debussy instead of Berg) the new year of 2006 at Severance Hall got off to a rousing start.

The young (26) maestro was assured and confident on the podium, even though he hadn’t planned to be there this week. Not even the prospect of a US premiere of a piano concerto seemed to daunt him. This week, too, he embarked on a new style for him—sans baton. Well, if it works for Pierre Boulez, why not for James Gaffigan?

The two movements of Printemps (“Spring”) by the French Impressionist Debussy were his third such use of that name for a composition. Nearly twenty years later it was orchestrated by his compatriot, Henri Büsser. What we hear is certainly reminiscent of Debussy, but a Germanic-sort of Debussy. Rather than the transparency (layers of chiffon, perhaps) we automatically think of in connection with this composer, we are treated here to a opaque, brocade version.

Perhaps because only a piano duet version survived, M.Büsser utilizes two pianists at the one instrument, along with the normal orchestra. Nice touch, that. The second movement had a little march which was played with appropriate French insouciance and lightness. Overall, the piece is interesting, even if not what we’re accustomed to hearing when we think of Debussy. It was certainly well-played.

Marc-André Dalbavie, a young French composer who has been compared to Debussy for his use of orchestral color, was the first composing fellow in residence with the Cleveland Orchestra at Severance Hall. At a concert in May, 2000, when Pierre Boulez was conducting a work by the young composer, the great pianist Mitsuko Uchida was soloist, and all of a sudden it seeemed a very good idea for the younger man to compose a piano concerto. Shortly thereafter, he heard the brilliant Norwegian pianist, Leif Ova Andsnes in concert, and the die was cast. (The concerto received its world premiere last summer in London.)

Ripples and cascades of notes—sometimes in octaves from the piano—as well as scales, abound in this concerto, almost always in a descending mode. There are no electronic instruments employed, although there are slides and swoops in the trombones and a good many sforzandos (sudden loud note that rapidly diminishes in volume) throughout the entire brass section. Here and there were brief smidgens of minimalism—patterns of notes repeated over and over, before changing into something else.

Some portions were a bit murky and dense, and it was hard to tell where the theme was, exactly. These were not quite melodies as we hear in other works, but yet they were, sort of. The first and last movements ended with a bang—literally—a huge thump on the bass drum.

Fortunately, Mr. Andsnes possesses a formidable technique, and had no apparent problems while coping with the extremely difficult demands made on him by the composer. He had virtually no respite during the twenty-five minutes of the piece, playing continuously throughout. Mr. Gaffigan led the orchestra in a committed and thoughtful performance of a concerto that should establish itself in the repertoire without any hesitation.

Can there be anyone—anywhere—who has not heard the Fifth Symphony of Beethoven? Those first four notes set the mood, signalling that something of merit is about to follow, and this performance was exactly that. Full of merit. It was lively and energetic, with crisp dynamics and continuous forward motion.

In this more familiar repertoire, Mr. Gaffigan was vigorous, using body English to convey his wishes to the musicians. The first-chair wind players all contributed lovely solos throughout. In total contrast to the brassy brilliance were those moments of unbelievable softness in the strings, especially in the second movement before the little pizzicato march, and again in the finale before being joined by the staccato sounds of the winds. The double basses and cellos were brisk and musically husky in their big scherzo-ish section. Each note was amazingly clear and distinct.

It seems as though the entire finale movement is really one long ending, or preparation for such. The tension builds and builds until those final slashing chords bring the piece to a halt. I can’t imagine a performance of this work that doesn’t end in a clamorous standing ovation, and this one didn’t disappoint. After the first bows, the orchestra reluctantly stood to share the well-deserved acclaim with their young conductor.

For tickets or information about upcoming concerts, call (216) 231-1111, or visit the orchestra’s web-site: http://www.ClevelandOrchestra.com

From Cool Cleveland contributor Kelly Ferjutz artswriterATadelphia.net (:divend:)