Aside from the woman who felt compelled to move to two different seats last night during the opening of Bruckner's Fifth, carrying along her shopping bag, the concert of Mozart and Bruckner came off well. Better than well, actually, but it'd be gloating to say, "The CSO and Barenboim play this repertoire better than any American orchestra." Such comments are the makings of arrogance, and besides, I'm not part of the organization anyway.
Seriously, though, having oboist Alex Klein back again to play Mozart's woodwind Sinfonia Concertante was something special. His tone is unparalleled and his fluid phrasing puts most singers to shame, and it's not for nothing he was the toast of the town when still principal.
Then came Bruckner after intermission. Put this orchestra in Carnegie Hall's unbeatable acoustic, and its strengths are magnified a hundred-fold. The rich string sound Barenboim's developed, the all-conquering brasses he's tempered a bit, the impeccable woodwinds, all of this is only more in this hall. And the players really like that. After they'd hammered out the end of the first movement, I turned to my friend and said, "That's how they say, 'Hi.'" The scherzo could serve as an appropriate soundtrack to the Apocalypse, whenever that gets around to arriving. Not the dippy little waltz part of the scherzo, but the pulse-pounding parts of it.
But it's never just about volume with the CSO today. The depth of sound they produce exists in no other American orchestra today. (I haven't heard Philly live, but I've heard all the other major players.) It's a sound that washes over you and seems to go through you. I've never heard it equalled.
Postscript: The management change that's taking place at the CSO, with Matias Tarnopolsky heading to the New York Phil to take over the artistic planner post, has shaken me up, a little, too. Tarnopolsky's innovative plans have enriched the Chicago scene greatly and I'm going to miss him. After dinner last night, though, I feel a little better knowing that he's looking forward to the challenges of working with the (to outside observers; these aren't his views) famously, notoriously conservative Phil and its famously, notoriously conservative audience. That makes it a little easier to stomach, but New York is gaining a seriously thoughtful planner who puts conductors, soloists and programs together with powerful artistic results, and Chicago's losing one.
I suppose this is also the place to point out that Alex Ross' claim that Matias is also a fan of experimental jazz comes as news to me (and Matias). I haven't been hanging out at the Empty Bottle very often lately, so maybe Matias has been and I just haven't known. Could he be a secret fan of Fred Lonberg-Holm?