Carnegie Hall, December 10, 2013—MOZART: Symphony No. 36, “Linz”; A. MATHIEU: Concertino No. 2 Op. 13; A. MATHIEU: Piano Concerto No. 4 in E minor; Alain Lefèvre, piano; Orchestra of St. Lukes, JoAnn Falletta
Canadian composer André Mathieu died in 1968, aged 39, another prodigy who burnt himself out at an early age. His premature death, as much as his musical precociousness, earned him the nickname “The Canadian Mozart”, but otherwise the two composers have little in common. Still, it was a clever bit of programming putting the two together, and Mathieu’s hyper-romantic style is so different from Mozart’s that he really need not fear anything from the inevitable comparison.
Alain Lefèvre has been an ardent champion of Mathieu’s music, no mean feat when so much of it is in need of major editorial intervention. Personally, Mathieu was a mess, an alcoholic much of whose work was never published, or even fully written down. The Fourth Piano Concerto exists in the form of a partial piano score and several recordings of Mathieu himself playing a solo piano version of the complete work. It has been reconstructed and quite capably orchestrated only within the past few years. The work offers listeners a wild ride, for sure, with hyperactive quick movements full of monstrous virtuoso figuration, and a lovely slow movement that doesn’t stay slow for very long–and lasts about five minutes longer than it has any right to. But then, when the tunes are so attractive, it’s hard to begrudge the music its time.
Concertino No. 2 was composed when Mathieu was all of five years old, and it’s an amazing piece of work, more modern -sounding than the later Rachmaninov-meets-Gershwin Fourth Concerto. It begins innocently enough with two movements, quick then slowish, in simple forms. The finale, though, reveals more of the composer to come, culminating in a frantic cadenza that brings the work to a close with a vigorous jolt of energy. As these descriptions suggest, Mathieu was not one to sit still for long. “Fast and loud” was his standard mode of operation, and Lefèvre blasted his way through both pieces with a demonic energy that threatened excitingly to spin completely out of control, but never quite did. These were thrilling performances.
Conductor JoAnn Falletta has a well-earned reputation as an expert in unusual repertoire, and her commitment to the cause was scarcely less powerful and convincing than was Lefèvre’s. She had the Orchestra of St. Lukes in top shape for both of Mathieu’s pieces. The Mozart “Linz” Symphony that opened the evening was well paced and also well played, but it was obviously included as the “other” Mozart, and some balance issues between woodwinds and the large string section offered evidence of where all the work had gone in rehearsals. Frankly, it couldn’t help but sound rather pale next to Mathieu’s indulgence in reckless excess.
For the occasion, about 250 Canadian music lovers flew in to augment a Carnegie Hall audience that made up for in enthusiasm what it lacked in sheer numbers. Let’s be honest: Mathieu was an amazing prodigy, but he was no genius. Still, his unruly energy and wealth of melodic imagination give him a distinctive voice that’s well worth hearing. It was a very enjoyable program on all accounts.
