NY Philharmonic: Concerts in the Park

Tonight was the first in this summer’s Concerts in the Park, hosted by the New York Philharmonic. Picture the scene: an oasis of green spread out against the majestic skyscrapers of Manhattan’s skyline. A concert stage set up on the Great Lawn, thousands of eager fans arriving hours in advance to reserve a spot on the grass.

The lineup was promising, with the Shanghai Symphony Orchestra backing up Ying Huang (soprano), Changyong Liao (baritone) and Lang Lang (piano). The programme was intriguing, ranging from Tchaikovsky to Ravel to Wagner to Gershwin. The crowd was alight with anticipation; the weather, initially threatening, cleared. What could possibly go wrong?

Well, there was the performance. The Shanghai Symphony Orchestra held up its end of the bargain, with a particularly strong showing among the woodwinds and brass (the strings sounded a little suffocated and raspy in the humidity). The performances were competent, if not inspired. The featured soloists were another matter. They had rich, rounded voices, and were completely unable to hit any notes in their respective higher registers. If they played darts like they sang, they would be somewhere well off the dartboard, perhaps with a dart embedded in a bar patron’s head. They seemed to aim in the general direction of a note and let go. The one duet they sang, which was within a normal range, actually was almost pleasantly in tune and on key, except at the dramatic ending.

But fear not: Lang Lang was next, the featured pianist in Gershwin’s Rhapsody in Blue. What could be more fitting in New York City than that quintessential composition? With Lang Lang’s verve and technical prowess, how could it be anything less than spectacular?

And yet it was a lugubrious, lopsided, almost petulant Rhapsody, with only flashes of spirit and brilliance. To say it gently, the tempo was unorthodox, ranging from a sleepy lento to at best a crippled andantino. One begins to wonder if the nominal stars of these shows bother to practice before making their journeys here: several passages were wrong, in spite of the presence of a score on the piano (an almost sure sign of sight-reading), and the interpretation was uninspired at best and laboured at worst. Lang Lang’s flair for the dramatic was on full display in the worst possible way, without any hints of humour or whimsy, but full out attempts at misplaced drama.

In spite of this, the crowd (with a significant number of Chinese) gave a standing ovation: nationalistic pride for their star pianist or mere enthusiasm? Certainly the performance was lacking. The encore was most practiced and fluid, special because it was clearly dear to the performer’s heart and unpretentious. But it was not enough to offset the otherwise disappointing performance in the park tonight.

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