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Review: A Composer’s ‘Lear’ Freshens a Shakespeare Evening

But Ocoin’s self-control in dealing with these monstrous forces is one of the most remarkable things about “Heath,” and its four sections are played without a hitch, with confident, brooding reservations. is oozing out. With its ringing bells, gloomy chords and unsettling melody, the opening immediately reminds us of Mussorgsky’s “Boris Godunov”, another tale of a mad king.

This first section, “The Divided Kingdom,” showcases Aucoin’s flair for creating flickering orchestral textures that are both granite and like rapidly changing storm clouds. The piercing snare drums gradually gain strength into the bleak, expansive landscape of the solemn brass and string drone, almost melting into Tchaikovsky’s romantic sweep.

The slightly faster second section, named after “The Lear Fool”, is penetrated by the playfulness of the hard and maniacal flute, alluding to the music of Kurosawa’s film adaptation of Shakespeare, and then the blind Gloucester’s life. There is a short preliminary interlude inspired by bitter regret. The fourth part, “With a Dead March” (where the play hints at a final mass exit), builds up a dense, steady wave that then abruptly recedes, subtly bewildering yet elegant of faintly rustling percussion. reaching the ending.

Yannick Nézet-Séguin, Music Director of the Metropolitan Opera and the Philadelphia Orchestra, is to be commended for conducting the work of this talented composer consistently with both organizations over the past few years. Deserved. (Okoin is currently working on an upcoming adaptation of Dostoevsky’s “The Devil” for Metropolitan Broadcasting.)

Despite being lucid and energetic on the podium, Nezet-Séguin perfectly produces the crisp brilliance needed to make the familiar Bernstein and Tchaikovsky tunes on the programme new and memorable. I couldn’t. Neither of them were exactly late, but they were still a little tired and felt like they were busy and blurry with hiccups in horns and trumpets at the end of a long season. Tchaikovsky lacked the passionate opulence for which this score exists.

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