Lars Vogt at Symphony Hall
There was young blood in the old hall with Andris Nelsons directing and Lars Vogt playing Mozart’s Piano Concerto in C Minor. The orchestra was huddled around the piano with Nelsons hidden between them. All eyes were on Vogt, intense and ecstatic, embodying the simple, supreme confidence of Mozart. Vogt began with a start at the sound of the strings behind him. He gestured with his body and with his hands to the orchestra and to the audience, grimacing, sighing, drawing in the players as his partners and the audience as his admirers.
Anton Bruckner’s Symphony No. 7 in E is what a symphony should be: a life-cycle in sound, a novel in music, telling our lives in the course of it. Bruckner was an awkward bumpkin in the sharp-witted, highfalutin society of Vienna. Gustave Mahler, his contemporary, said that his friend Bruckner was “half simpleton, half God”.
The long, textured Symphony No. 7 just keeps coming, laying out a world we recognize, in the medium of music.