Matthias Grünewald – “The Temptation of St. Anthony”
Although the Monterey Symphony assigned the theme “Merriment” to its April set of concerts (and we concede there were some genuinely amusing moments in its lighter fare of Satie, Ravel and Fauré), it was the anguished projected photographs of Matthias Grünewald’s masterpiece, the Isenheim Altarpiece accompanying Hindemith’s Mathis der Mahler, that made the most profound effect during the evening’s concert.
Last year Music Director Max Bragado-Darman traveled to Colmar in Alsatian France, photographed the twelve panels and later arranged the sequences of images we saw projected on a screen behind the musicians during the performance of Mathis der Mahler. Unlike some artists’ idealized depiction of the Crucifixion, Grünewald doesn’t attempt to depict nobility of demeanor, but instead exposes to us the anguish, pain and humiliation of Christ’s suffering in horrific detail. The blanched color of the body of Christ was truly the color of death, and the wounds all over his body were a sobering reminder of the taunting and mockery he endured before his death. Most surprising to me, and probably to many members of the audience were the grotesque images projected during the last movement of Mathis der Mahler, the “Temptation of St. Anthony,” depicting nightmarish horrific creatures menacing St. Anthony. These could have come from the turgid imagination of Hieronymus Bosch.
Although upstaged by the projected images, Hindemith’s score, with its harmonic complexity, hinting at times of everything from medieval modes to suggestions of twelve-tone systems, still manages to make a powerfully expressive statement, and the inclusion of the disturbing images contributed to the success of the performance.
Philippe Bianconi & Max Bragado-Darman
The earlier parts of the program were much more fun. We heard five minutes of Erik Satie’s Gymnopédies No. 1 & 2, two of the most identifiable piano pieces ever written and embellished with some appropriately quirky orchestrations, plus guest soloist for the evening’s concert Philippe Bianconi in splendid performances of Ravel’s Concerto in G Major for Piano and Orchestra and the rarely heard Ballade, Op. 19, a solo work we were hearing in its piano and orchestral version.
There have been some legendary artists who have played the Ravel G Major Piano Concerto with such panache and gusto they practically owned it – Martha Argerich, Arturo Benedetti-Michelangeli, Leonard Bernstein and Alicia de Larrocha, among others. Well, Philippe Bianconi just joined that distinguished group. His performance was so masterful and natural, it just hummed along and jazzed its way into our hearts. The lovely slow movement was a masterpiece of expressive and dynamic subtlety, and the final movement was a knockout.
An interesting aspect of Bianconi’s performance of the Ravel Concerto was his natural choreography whipping around all over the keyboard. It was fascinating to watch because it was always natural and an inherent part of the music. There was none of the histrionics of Lang Lang, with his exaggerated movements and soulful looks to heaven. There were no wasted motions in Bianconi’s performance – it was totally organic and a delight both to hear and to see.
End