A newly svelte and intensely engaged Andris Nelsons elicited an emotionally forthcoming and exquisitely detailed love quadrangle among Tchaikovsky, himself, the more-than-willing BSO players, and us engrossed votaries, while the Pathetique Symphony was closinig out Saturday night in the shed. As the double basses faded into silence at the end, we felt present at the heart-on-sleeve composer’s death only a few days after he had conducted the premiere. Nelsons held the rapture for a full 30 seconds before allowing full house to express its enthusiastic endorsement.

But what a journey (and ecstatic guilty pleasure) we experienced. How strongly did Fate hang over us and how vividly did Tchaikovsky’s suffering come through to us! … It’s fair to wonder how the magic happened, but section-by-section and movement-by-movement accounts can scarcely connect the dots.

The astonishingly patient unfolding and Richard Svoboda’s bassoon’s almost human cry yielded to the violas’ melting embellishments and later to the big blast of the development in the first movement. Along the way we marveled at the sectional portamentos, and breath-stopping pauses. Details glistened as Nelsons carefully controlled the subordination of lines, setting up and earning every effect right up to the ppp walking bass close.

The celli waltzed like danseurs on ecstasy in the Allegro con grazia. In the Allegro molto vivace, Nelsons somehow drew forth a signature blend of insouciant Mendelssohnian midnight dreaming with a Russian version of tripping the light bombastic….(light, in part because of the Shed’s marvelous combination of warmth and clarity due to the stage risers and the iconic shell). Byronic restlessness vied with triumphalism as rallying melodies countered one another before drums and cymbals almost tricked some into applause. Then from the onset of the very slow (over 12 minutes?)  Adagio lamentosa, we suffered unabashed heartache and flowing tears especially in the B theme which evoked (for me, at least) the three-tissue “Field of the Dead” lament from Alexander Nevsky. Pride, agitation, and hope ultimately surrendered to funeral resignation in the unusual ppp minor finish to an immortal night.

Of second item on the program, the Aram Khachaturian Piano Concerto (1936), BSO annotator Harlow Robinson wrote:

Between the wars, Koussevitzky [whose 150^th Birthday the orchestra celebrates this weekend] programmed many works by Soviet composers as a symbol of American solidarity with the struggle against fascism. In addition to Shostakovich and Prokofiev, Koussevitzky also introduced audiences to the music of Aram Khachaturian, the “third man” of Soviet music, virtually unknown in America at the time. Soon after its 1943 debut with soloist William Kapell, Khachaturian’s dynamic, and exotic concerto became one of the most popular items in the BSO repertoire. Read more of Harlow Robinson’s note HERE.

In another guilty pleasure, a powerful, elegant, and rhapsodic Jean-Yves Thibaudet, who gave the only other Tanglewood performance of the Concerto (2008 with André Previn), joined the BSO and Nelsons for an astonishing recap. After the short, smashing Bartokian intro, Thibuadet unleashed machine-gun double octaves, unstoppable sweep and yes, elegant delicacies as well. He delivered his witty and demanding cadenzas with a wink and a shrug. And he more than once showed his deference by accompanying the orchestra rather than headlining it. Nelsons clearly knew how the parts fit together; he gave oboist Keisuke Wakao plenty of scope for his snake charming meanders after which the piano entered like a crazed Petruska. Lyric piano episodes also accompanied Joshua Elmore’s ravishing and essential bassoon. Thibaudet chased scales in octaves to finish the movement. After which Thibaudet got us all chuckling by raising his arms to ventilate his elegant black paisleyish jacket.

Bass clarinetist Andrew Sandwick’s’s irresistibly evocative and liquid introduction to the Andante con anima, set up some Asian mysteries from the keyboard and from the sharp-toothed saw bowed so mysteriously by Robert Froehner. Sounding like a haunting theremin, it transmitted æthereal waves over something like a two-octave range, contributing much to the riotous colorations that Katchaturian added to our stimulating bathwater. More double octaves and celestial sawing ensued amidst a quiet reflective interlude …and then the bass clarinet acted the part of a dying Czar.

With another percussive fanfare, the allegro brilliante announced itself, then piano ostinatos lashed the trumpets on speed. In general we took great delight in Khachaturian’s poor impulse control and Nelsons’s martialing of the moving parts and juicy effusions.  After a rather overbusy cadenza, signifying plenty of something in Thibaudet’s brainy digits, the tutti thunders back to where it began on the Armenian equivalent of Volga rapids. Thanks for rescuing this winner from Pops.

I defer to my colleague to describe the opener.

by Ian Wiese

Tania Leon composed Stride for the New York Philharmonic’s 19 for 19, wherein 19 women wrote pieces in commemoration of the centennial of the 19^th Amendment, guaranteeing women suffrage in the US. The composition also won the Pulitzer Prize in 2021; listening to the work in the hands of the BSO, it’s clear to see why. Almost like a concerto grosso, sections shout over the tutti. For example, in the opening, the strings and marimba alternate acting as a foundation upon which the trumpets and then the woodwinds as sections soloed. Each solo section, however, saw the players play in imitation offset by an eighth note roughly, leading to layers upon layers of material without needing to add anything fresh. These could have possibly been improvisatory in some manner, as alluded to by the program notes, but without looking at the score, it is hard to tell; in any regard, they were well executed, especially by the entire trumpet section. Nelsons focused most of his energy on timekeeping, letting the players interpret, as in jazz (something Leon wanted to highlight, as jazz influenced her). Stride sparkled as the opener.