Seeing a noted soloist return as a
conductor is not often cause for high hopes, whether the
transformation occurs after age has taken its toll on the playing, or
in mid career, ennui, or an inflated ego has inflamed the desire to
conquer a higher musical mountain. Although but a few steps, the
journey between the soloist's spot at the footlights and the podium
is a perilous road which has buried many a neophyte beneath an
avalanche of overwhelming details, thrown many an overeager yet
unprepared dilettante down into a hidden crevasse, or left many a
dabbler dawdling along the crisscrossing paths of interpretive
uncertainty.
With
these thoughts in the back of my mind, Nikolaj Znaider playing a
Mozart concerto and conducting Symphonie fantastique on the Ravinia
schedule looked like cause for concern. As if to confirm my worst
fears, when greeting the orchestra, his Israeli-tinged accent
immediately brought on a horrible, pit-of-the-stomach sinking
feeling, flashbacks to our own local fin de siècle
malaise. Fortunately, he quickly dispelled those awful feelings with
his cheerful, warmhearted demeanor on the podium. After years of
trying to figure out the relationship between our winter and summer
managers, or if there is one at all – sometimes they seem to be
thumbing their noses at each-other, at others, they seem to be
ignoring each-other altogether – I've given up trying to figure
things out like why we had just played the Berlioz about two weeks
prior, during our annual week-long residency at a local arboretum.
(The two concerts were about forty miles apart. I wonder if
there is any overlap in audience.) Whatever the reason, I wouldn't
say the musicians were on the edge of their seats, eager to play the
piece again so soon. I might even say exactly the opposite was true.
But against all odds Znaider succeeded in making it a more or less
pleasant experience. Not the best performance we've ever given, but
he did some nice things, and I find him very likeable.
(Non bassists should consider stopping
at this point.)
Symphonie fantastique has a bunch
of fun passages for the double basses, a few of which even make it
onto audition lists from time to time – Marche au supplice, Scène
au champs, Ronde
du Sabbat, and the excerpt below, which is from what I'd guess one
might call the development section of the first movement, Rêveries –
Passions. The fingering dates back to my student days, and it's
either a very good fingering, or else I'm very lazy, because I've
never changed it.
From where the quarter notes begin, the first three bars aren't 'extensions', although that is certainly a possibility depending on string length and hand size, but rather 'pivots' (where the thumb doesn't move). The first real shift occurs between the 'g' and 'e' (where it says: 'shift').
The next several bars might become clearer with brackets showing the different 'positions', and, consequently, where the shifts occur.
The overlapping brackets in the second bar show where the thumb is
'brought up'. After the perfect fifth (e – a: 4 – 1) is
established, the hand pivots on the first finger, leading to the
minor third (a – c: 1 – +). I find this fingering for minor
thirds to be pretty comfortable, and the diminished triads, adding
the 2nd
finger are solid. The shift (from a to e, 1 – 2) moves the entire
hand up a half-step to establish the triad on a-sharp.
In the following measure, the first finger remains in place (a-sharp = b-flat) and the thumb moves up one half-step. One bar later, it is the thumb
which remains in place while the 1st
and 2nd
fingers move up a whole-step to set up another diminished triad. In
the final two bars, the 'd' is closed with the thumb, then the hand
pivots on the first finger and the thumb comes off the string so the
harmonic may be touched with the 4th
finger. As Berlioz might have said, voila!
A few more comments.
For my taste, the 'small' or
'quick' little crescendos and diminuendos, such as occur throughout
this any many other passages in Berlioz, can almost never be too
exaggerated. Making these dramatic dynamic effects, which are often
at odds with the meter, gives more of the lurid, frenzied, and in
this case dreamlike character to the music.
The quarter-note passage appears
in the part with four notes slurred. Splitting those slurs in half
makes it easier to maximize the crescendos. This bowing is, I think,
the 'industry standard'. I'm curious to hear from anyone who adheres
to the printed slurs.
1 comment:
"For my taste, the 'small' or 'quick' little crescendos and diminuendos, such as occur throughout this any many other passages in Berlioz, can almost never be too exaggerated." The incredibly fast crescendi (sometimes over just two beats), especially in the first movement of this work,are really hard to execute. You often have to drop to piano immediately afterwards, and what is actually heard more often than not is just an accent on the last note of the crescendo. The author of this blog may not care for the following observation: The only conductor in my experience who really insisted on a true crescendo, and actually achieved it, was the fin de siecle middle eastern fellow alluded to earlier.
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