National Symphony

Saturday night J. and I went to the last National Symphony concert of the season. On the program was Shostakovich's Second Cello Concerto and Copland's Third Symphony, with an appetizer of Beethoven's Leonore overture. The most remarkable thing about the concert, though, was the audience's reaction the music director Leonard Slatkin, who conducted the performance. Slatkin is leaving the NSO at the end of this season after a long tenure. In fact, there was only one more concert for him to conduct after the one we heard. He literally got a standing ovation when he first came out on stage. The entire hall was up on its feet. I have never seen anything like that. From what I hear he was not universally liked by the orchestra members. I guess his fans feel differently. If that wasn't enough, at the end of the show, the audience called him back for no fewer than five curtain calls. Enough already, I was thinking. Anyway, the music...

Leonore was, well, Leonore. Very light by Beethoven standards. Apparently, Beethoven wrote four versions of the overture for his one opera that he eventually renamed Fidelio. No. 3 is considered to be the best, and became the "standard," but it is also thought to be out of character with the opening scene of the opera itself, so it is never performed as the actual overture, and has taken on an independent life. I've heard it before, and it didn't do any more for me on Saturday than it has in the past. I am still convinced that orchestras program short pieces at the beginning of their concerts to allow the late-comers to be seated without missing the good stuff.

Shostakovich was a treat. I did not realize that he had written two cello concertos. They were composed only a few years apart, in the 1960s, both for the legendary Russian cellist and Shostakovich's friend (and, not insignificantly, much later the music director of the NSO) Mstislav Rostropovich. The Second is apparently much less well known. I had not heard it before. It proved to be a challenge in spots, but ultimately very rewarding. It is cast, conventionally, in three movements, but the first one is slow while the other two are both marked moderato. There are no truly fast sections, which is just as well - the tempos he used are probably the two in which Shostakovich is the most expressive. Unlike his symphonies, at least the ones I am familiar with, where he creates tension by moving harmonies gradually away from the tonal center, in the first movement of the concerto he achieves a similar effect with orchestration, layering individual instruments and then entire sections. The music simmers throughout the entire work, but doesn't boil over until the very end, keeping the listener from feeling calm and relaxed - a Shostakovich trademark. One of the more unusual features of the work are the fact that unlike a typical Romantic concerto, the cello plays almost constantly, sometimes alone, or nearly so, other times almost drowned out by the tutti of the orchestra. There are two sections where the soloist is accompanied by only a single percussion instrument - a violently shaken tambourine in the first, a snare drum in the second, both making for an unusual combination of sounds, grating at times, but to good effect nevertheless.

The soloist on Saturday was one Sol Gabetta, a young Argentine with Russian roots whom I had not heard of. Since I have no reference point, I can't really comment on her interpretation. Her tone was very nice and she sounded confident, but beyond that, I don't really know. I do wonder sometimes whether a young Westerner, even one with Russian roots like Gabetta, can really feel the music of Shostakovich from the inside. Do you need a similar kind of experience to play it as Shostakovich himself apparently needed to write it? The only way to find out is to get a recording of Rostropovich himself playing it, I guess.

Copland's Third Symphony occupied the second half of the program. It was actually the last one he had written, fifth in absolute sequence, but he didn't bother to number to of them. It is famous for a section in the last movement that has taken on a life of its own as Fanfare for a Common Man. I must say it didn't do a whole lot for me. There just wasn't enough thematic material to keep me interested. The Symphony is very complex rhythmically, and from what I gather that is its chief accomplishment, but evidently rhythmic variety alone just doesn't do it for me, especially when it is as jittery and angular as it is here. That said, the third movement is beautiful, with lovely, dark and ambiguous melodies in the strings and, after two movements of tuttis or, at most, sections, some real solos. The Symphony is also an excellent opportunity to hear the sheer energy of an orchestra cooking at full steam. Copland does not keep you waiting - a few bars into the opening there is a wall of sound before you. When the orchestra is on, as the NSO was on Saturday, it sends chills down your spine.

It's worth mentioning that we had "real" seats - rear orchestra (we usually sit in the chorister), and I must say it made a difference. On the Shostakovich, especially, the cello was crystal-clear. Last year, we heard Schumann's cello concerto from the chorister, and I had to strain to hear some passages. The overall sound balance is much better as well, but at more than twice the price of the chorister seats, I don't think we'll be returning too soon.

It's also worth mentioning the dinner we had at Circle Bistro before the show. One of Kennedy Center's evils is that there are no restaurants that are truly convenient to it, and its own is overpriced and lousy by all accounts. Notti Bianche on New Hampshire Ave. is the next closest, but the one meal we had there was so disappointing that we vowed never to return. Circle Bistro, on the North side of Washington Circle, is the next closest, and well worth the walk. They feature a fixed price pre-theatre menu, which we had in the interest of time, and though there are only two choices for each of the three courses, they proved to be excellent. J. and I both started with the salad, it being a stiflingly hot evening, and though it was just a pile of greens, they were absolutely delicious. Many varieties, including some I have never seen before, all full of strong, grassy flavor that you can never get in supermarket salad greens. They were the closest to the stuff I get at the farmer's market I've ever had at a restaurant. Bucking the weather, I ordered the hanger steak for my entrée. The other choice was trout, which I had had before and which J. chose on Saturday. Both were fantastic. The steak was very flavorful, chewy but not tough, and cooked to a perfect degree of doneness. It was served with spinach and just a tiny but of mashed potato, all over delicious red wine sauce. Not having time for a lot of wine, I ordered a glass of Pavilion Merlot from California. J. went with a Prosecco. The Pavilion was good, but really soft. Goose-down pillow soft. Not tannins anywhere in sight. The steak kind of killed it, actually. But it would have been delicious on its own. Our dessert, which I never order but here it was part of the deal, were profiteroles filled with strawberry ice cream. I normally don't like strawberry ice cream, but these were actually quite good.

This was our second visit to Circle Bistro, and a second bull's eye. I must go back one of these days for a dinner where I am not restricted to a pre-concert fast track, and can try some of the other things on the menu.