Joshua Bell, Alan Gilbert and NDR Orchestra Play Bruch And Bruckner In Alicante

It seemed to be an average show filled with Romantic clichés. Both Bruckner's Fourth Symphony and Bruch's Scottish Fantasy were composed around the year 1880, yet, as with everything else, Bruckner took any criticism to heart and subsequently revised certain parts of his composition without altering the main structure. Of course, these works with a similar genesis also differed. Bruckner probably did not write anything other than the deeply personal, internal need to communicate his religion, but the Bruch Fantasy was composed for a celebrity singer, Pablo Sarasate, and it is obvious that the composer had its potential for public appeal in mind. The Fantasy draws its melodies from popular songs and folk songs, although Bruckner's work always appears to be propelled by a highly personal vitality. This listener has heard these pieces several times and they represent a style of music that isn't really one of his or her favorites. As part of my preparation, I decided to listen to a performance of the symphony I remembered from a previous foreign orchestra's tour of Spain, which included a performance of the work in Alicante that I saw. I cheered the North German Radio (NDR) Elbphilharmonie ensemble onto the stage after preparing in this manner.

What I did not expect was a performance like I had never heard before. To perform the Bruch Scottish Fantasy, Joshua Bell came. Now that reputations may be established via marketing, the ego's performance experience is often less than the promise. The reverse seems to be true with Joshua Bell. He has such command of the music and such comfort with its expression that the instrument, the person, the work of art, and the interpretation merge into one. The term "spellbinding" would diminish the value of the outcome. This crowd was so engrossed in the performance that at times it took effort to remember to breathe. Joshua Bell's apparent talent and joy in interacting with the conductor, other musicians, and audience to foster a spirit of inclusion and sharing enriched the experience. It seemed certain that there would be an encore. Though in an unusual form, it was once more a popular option. O Mi Babbino Caro from Gianni Schicchi by Puccini was afterwards transformed as a violin solo with subtle orchestral accompaniment.

The conductor Alan Gilbert then led his NDR Elbphilharmonie orchestra in the Bruckner symphony, which has not yet been acknowledged. This was undoubtedly familiar ground for the band given the orchestra's prior involvement with Gunther Wand, yet this familiarity not only generated respect, but also an instantaneous and incandescent brightness. It is obvious that their interaction with their newly chosen head conductor will not only continue but further strengthen the orchestra's history.

No part of this performance—playing, interpretation, tone, phrasing, even the whole musical sense—fell short of being breath-taking, if not revelatory. Bruckner's tremolo strings often provide the vocal equivalent of a painter's wash, saying nothing in and of itself but adding an imposing presence to the total sound. The tremolos clarified in the hands of the NDR and Alan Gilbert by providing what seemed to be the viewpoint of another dimension inside the picture. The landscape was able to reveal its magnificent, often remorseful detail because to this cleaner air.

This was one of the finest musical renditions I have ever heard, and that was obvious long before the concert was through. My former planning was no longer relevant. Nothing could have adequately prepared a listener for this brilliance, this utmost musical beauty, this flawless balancing act, and this consistently enlightened phrasing. The music of Anton Bruckner finally made sense and left an effect on this concertgoer for the first time in his or her memory.

This collaboration between Anton Bruckner, Joshua Bell, Alan Gilbert, Max Brooke, and the orchestra of North German Radio resulted in what can only be called the experience of a lifetime.