A standing ovation can be a spontaneous gesture of audience appreciation, but it's often a mass act of politeness. I may give a weary mutter in protest but no matter where I am or what I've just witnessed, if the audience is on its feet, I'll eventually join them. Call it courteous coercion. Oh, I know what you're thinking: “Only stand when you want to stand. Where's your spine?”
Mine was extracted many years ago. The surgery took place at old Massey Hall in Toronto. I was heartily applauding the end of a classical music concert. But I did not stand. Others around me did. One of the standees got so upset she swore at me. Since then I've been a stand-up kind of guy.
It's a Sunday afternoon in October at the Confederation Centre of the Arts. I'm on my feet—applauding. And it feels like the real thing. Lift-off was achieved without any resentment. I'm genuinely excited by what I've just seen and heard—and the concert isn't over; this is only the second number on the program. Peter Allen, solo pianist, is standing at centre stage. During the applause he turns to conductor James Mark and the members of the PEI Symphony Orchestra. He brings his hands to together and pumps them in a two handed salute. And why not? Together they've just navigated a famously difficult stretch of musical whitewater known as Rachmaninov's Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini.
According to the program notes, rumour had it that Rachmaninov used to pour himself a large crème de menthe to steel himself for public performances of this complex piece. Fact or fiction, it's an intimidating story—the composer in awe and fear of his own creation.
The Rachmaninov piece is a showcase for Peter Allen. He gives us dramatic power chords, intricate hand over hand movements, rapidly ascending and descending passages, and finger-work of exceptional speed. At first, the piano and orchestra create a clash of sounds. Mr. Allen sends out loud chords while the strings and the brass answer with harsh blasts of sound. Suddenly, this argumentative section stops. Against a canvas of silence, Mr. Allen begins to sketch a beautiful, delicate melody. When the orchestra rejoins, both pianist and orchestra are graceful companions in melody. Just one of the highlights in a memorably intense performance.
The afternoon began with a spirited performance by the orchestra of the Overture to Russlan and Ludmilla. Written by Glinka, this work used the melodies of Russian folk songs and was primarily a showcase for the string sections.
After the intermission, “Russian Rhapsody” continues with the PEI Symphony Orchestra's performance of Kalinnikov's Symphony No. 2 in A Major. Gone are the looks of grim concentration witnessed during the Rachmaninov section. What we see and hear is a confident, relaxed orchestra. After the lively first movement there is a pause. Into the stillness a lone wind instrument begins a slow, haunting variation of the main theme. Then the rest of the orchestra joins in, wrapping the solo in its sound. But even as the arrangement becomes full and layered, and the sound bigger, the mood of sadness is sustained. The third movement arrives with a predictably upbeat variation. Although repetition trumps imagination in the fourth movement, the orchestra overcomes this with a powerful, rousing finish.
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