Andris Nelsons
Andris Nelsons and the Vienna Philharmonic deliver a polished but curiously inert reading of a symphonic powerhouse.
In Boston, Leonard Bernstein might have sustained Serge Koussevitzky’s bold adventure—and changed the course of American classical music. Today’s Boston Symphony is adrift
Last Friday night, conductor Andris Nelsons and the musicians came on stage together wearing red carnations as symbols of solidarity. The applause was immediate and fervent.
Ultimately—and regardless of one’s take on Andris Nelsons as an artist—it’s hard to see how the institution’s long-term interests are served by last week’s developments.
The Latvian conductor can sometimes overindulge in pieces that demand shifts in emotional direction on a dime, so the frenzied eclecticism of Mahler’s Fourth feels tailor-made for him.
John Williams’s concert music may be intended to enrich and edify, but there’s always room for a little fandom, particularly on occasions like this. At 93, and after a lifetime of firsts, the composer deserves every accolade.
Pianist Daniil Trifonov’s no stranger to playing Rachmaninoff with Nelsons and the BSO—they delivered a memorable outing of this very piano concerto in 2019—and, while Saturday’s traversal was periodically rusty, it built in spirit and tightness as the evening proceeded.
Some unfortunate misfires in a collection that, otherwise, has a lot going for it.
Russian composer Dmitri Shostakovich was both a rebel and a conformist, a fascinating hybrid of courage and cowardice.
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Why festival programming—and humanities partnerships—can help the BSO.
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