A historic Brahms, for more reason

a rare privilege. To continue with the metaphors of Wagner and Tristan, we could talk about night and day: the thick and nocturnal Wagnerian orchestra of Colón, the illuminist (although he throws a little to the second) Brahmsian orchestra in the meridian clarity of the CCK, of which a large hall at this height deserves to be considered as the main concert hall of the country; for extraordinary acoustics, for architectural beauty, for wide perspective: unlike the Columbus, everything is there in plain sight, and a concert is not just something that is heard but looks too. Finally, Buenos Aires has a concert hall like the best in Berlin or Paris; it was already known, it only required that a large international orchestra choose it as a concert hall, even when it had the option of Colón. Daniel Barenboim did it. It was like a second inauguration, after which things will not be exactly as before. Wednesday's concert at the CCK with Johannes Brahms Symphonies 1 and 2 is historic for more than one reason.

Barenboim, the tireless worker to whom everything seems to come naturally, effortlessly (it also gives the impression that every time he leads with fewer gestures), came this time with his fabulous orchestra of Opera Berlin to offer us a fundamental polarity of the nineteenth century: Wagner and Brahms. When Barenboim thinks about programs, that sort of thing usually happens; think big, with a rare historical feeling, as could be an ideal character of Doktor Faustus Mann's novel, where a whole world is inscribed in the description of a sonata of Beethoven or the technique of the twelve sounds. From this point of view, concerts are as many forms of knowledge as sources of beauty (the fact that the greatest living representative of the European musical illustration was born in Buenos Aires is a very beautiful rarity).

instead of the traditional opening-concert-symphony scheme, the Brahms Symphonies 1 and 2 were heard. Of course, even if we give up this balanced tripartite system, each program has a form, it is not just a work after the other. Barenboim decided not to start with Symphony No. 1 in C minor, but with No. 2 in D major, leaving the most weight for the second half of the program. The concert is concluded by an authentic finale

The bucolic placidity of the Symphony in D major must necessarily be heard in the first place; after the intense Symphony in C minor, it would have seemed a little tepid. But with Brahms things are not always as expected, and some bars of this symphony that seems to breathe on the outside open an enigmatic void filled with a timbal pianísimo tremolo, which seems inspired (and perhaps) in one a serious tremolo that mysteriously interrupts the beginning of Franz Schubert's last piano sonata. This very short tremolo and the serious pbadage of the trombones and the low snorkel that follows it (the two things are repeated immediately, like a stubbornness) constitute one of the most subtle and extraordinary changes of sound of all the music Symphony, and ovations When, at the end of the concert, Barenboim greeted the principal soloists of the Staatskapelle, they gave the example of how this pbadage had touched the hearts of the public

This is how that the concert began, with the greatest preciousness. the details; dynamic, timbre, rhythmic, contrapuntal, whatever: always with Barenboim are the scores or the nodes of a very intense dramatic narrative, which keeps us suspended from beginning to end. It is not possible to remember a Brahms of such beauty and intensity. And it's not easy to remember a concert soloist like Jiyoon Lee, so remarkable in the Symphony in C minor, although in truth we can say something similar to each of the soloists of the incredible Staatskapelle. by Disqus.
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