August 19, 2000 performance review by Dave Conlin Read
Current Tanglewood schedule and ticket info.
Itzhak Perlman’s performance in the dual role of conductor and soloist made compelling a program of less than spectacular selections from Beethoven, Mozart, and Brahms. It was an unforgettable evening, as much for his exuberant conducting as for his brillant musicianship.
- Beethoven – Romance No. 1 in G for violin and orchestra, Opus 40
- Romance No. 2 in F for violin and orchestra. Opus 50 Mozart
- Symphony No. 29 in A, K.201(186a) Brahms
- Symphony No. 4 in E minor, Opus 98
It’s hard to believe a man with such a Ruthian record had a debut left in him, but this was Isaac Perlman’s conducting debut with the BSO (after perfecting the dual role of conductor and soloist on the road for three years: at Chicago, Philadelphia, Toronto, Houston, et al.).
He has played with every major orchestra in the world; his TV debut came at age 13 on the Ed Sullivan show (in 1958); his awards include the Medal of Liberty and honorary degrees from Harvard, Yale, Brandeis, Roosevelt, Yeshiva and Hebrew Universities; fifteen Grammys and four Emmys.
He has made annual appearances at Tanglewood since 1986 and also hosts The Perlman Summer Music Program, his own mini-Tanglewood for pre-college musicians in East Hampton, NY.
Perlman began the program playing the first measure of Beethoven’s Romance No. 1 in G solo. Then, with the violin tucked between his chin and shoulder, he used his left hand, his head, and the violin bow to communicate with the orchestra. There were moments during the Beethoven Romances when Perlman evoked a stern schoolmaster, flailing the air with the violin bow, his face grimaced from pinching the violin to his shoulder.
His solos were lush, seamless passages that would have been exhilirating, but for the composition’s lack of emotional heft. The music was enjoyable, but in the same sense as it would have been fun to watch Babe Ruth take batting practice.
His solos were lush, seamless passages that would have been exhilirating, but for the composition’s lack of emotional heft. The music was enjoyable, but in the same sense as it would have been fun to watch Babe Ruth take batting practice.
There were passages where he affected an “air fiddler” bowing broad strokes leaning in toward the violins; he reached near the floor and swept the baton upward to signal the cellos; and he looked like a scat singer, puffing out his cheeks as if to mimic the sound of the double basses.
Concluding the program was Brahms’ Symphony No. 4 in E minor, which Jan Swafford described in his program notes as, “an elegy for a craft and a culture (Brahms) saw dying…in the forms of solemn and mournful dances.” Composed near the dawn of the 20th century, Brahms saw doom and gloom on the horizon. As things turned out, he wasn’t a bad prognosticator. But, if he had known the century would produce Itzhak Perlman, it would’ve brightened his day.
