SEATTLE — The Seattle Symphony‘s 2024-25 season closer, shepherded by conductor emeritus Ludovic Morlot, may have been entitled “Ravel Boléro,” but it offered far more: a carefully crafted concert of five works designed to showcase the light that Morlot and the orchestra can shine on both new and well-established repertoire.
Starting with Gunther Schuller’s infrequently programmed Symphony for Brass and Percussion and the West Coast premiere of Allison Loggins-Hull’s Rhapsody on a Theme by Joni for solo flute and orchestra, a Seattle Symphony co-commission with The Knights and the Boston Symphony Orchestra, the program concluded with three of the French greats that are Morlot’s specialty: Ravel’s Rapsodie espagnole, Sites auriculaires, and Boléro. In visceral terms, he began with one wowza and ended with another.
Schuller’s Symphony was a knockout. Its brash initial chord, which gives Wagner’s Tristan chord a run for its money, contains 10 of the chromatic scale’s 12 notes. The chord paved the way for the Andante. Described in Christopher DeLaurenti’s program notes as dark and brooding, it sounded like the antithesis of one or more of the American bands that march through numerous works by Charles Ives. Those bands, at least, seemed to have their wits about them as they marched forward. Schuller’s brass band, on the other hand, sounded as though someone had laced the musicians’ water bottles with LSD, and everyone was marching (or stumbling) every which way at once while attempting to maintain control of their instruments. For a brief moment, Seattle’s trombones sounded like a clutch of scattering magpies trying to regroup after someone had fired a rifle into the air.
After numerous crazy rackets, the music subsided into a disconsolate Lento. Not for long, however, as the 18-minute work closed with a thoroughly atonal Introduction (Quasi cadenza)—Allegro. For those who could hang with chaos, the huge and blaring ending was fabulous.
Thoroughly endearing composer and flutist Allison Loggins-Hull, co-founder of the Flutronix duo and a recent soloist on and contributor to the string quartet Ethel’s latest recording, Persist, came onstage to introduce her Rhapsody. The 14-minute work, which includes a cadenza designed to showcase its flute soloist’s prowess, has three influences: the music of Joni Mitchell (specifically “My Old Man” from her seminal album, Blue), the 100th anniversary of the premiere of Gershwin’s Rhapsody in Blue, and the artistry of flutist Alex Sopp, who performs with The Knights.
Here, Seattle chose to showcase its principal flutist, Demarre McGill. Trim and energetic, with ever-compelling body language that draws listeners deeper into the music, McGill excelled in the cadenza’s breathtakingly rapid passages, which he executed with consummate precision and glowing tone. Seattle’s audience adores him.
The Rhapsody began radiantly, with contrasting high strings and horn paving the way for the flute’s syncopated opening. There was a lot of darting about that kept everyone on their toes and some glistening contributions from xylophone. Some passages were a bit too repetitious, with inspiration waning toward the end, but the overall joy of the piece carried it through to its lovely ending.
Anticipating his audience’s positive reception, McGill returned with a surprise crowd-pleaser, Fauré’s Fantasie, Op. 79. Final notes of some of the work’s long-breathed opening phrases ended abruptly, as though McGill was more concerned with inhaling for the next passage than rounding off the note that preceded it. In the work’s lighter, more playful conclusion he was superb.
If Sites auriculaires presented more of a challenge, it was not due to Morlot’s conducting, but rather to Kenneth Hesketh’s 2024 orchestration of a work initially conceived for two pianos (1895-97). Commissioned for the BBC Philharmonic by Morlot, the orchestration incongruously inhabits a different sound-world than Ravel’s. Its second and final movement, “Entre cloches,” succeeded most when the clocks went wild.
After intermission, Morlot conducted the Rapsodie españole to the manner born. The “Prélude à la nuit” was magical, ethereal, and utterly mesmerizing, and the “Malagueña” and “Habanera” seductive in their mystery. The final “Feria” alternated languorous passages of restraint and control with irresistible eruptions of sonic splendor. Throughout, Morlot capitalized on the contrasting colors of different instruments. (Thanks to the Ravel recordings of François-Xavier Roth’s period-instrument orchestra, Les Siècles, we know that these colors were even more pronounced at the time Ravel composed the work.)
Then came Boléro. Morlot began so softly that the orchestra could hardly be heard over the inevitable pre-performance audience rustling and page-turning. His tempo was on the fast side, far closer to Ansermet than to Monteux or Roth, and did not fully allow listeners to initially sink into Ravel’s ever-evolving theme. But by placing snare drums at both ends of the orchestra, he capitalized on the movement and contrasts essential to the work’s success.
Morlot increased dynamics skillfully, virtually hypnotizing listeners with color and contrast. From my seat in row K, he seemed determined to coax out even more of a wallop from the orchestra at Boléro‘s end. If he did not ultimately succeed — stronger percussion would have been necessary — that did not prevent the audience from jumping to its feet for a cheering conclusion to a wonderful evening of music-making.
