Dvorak Cello Concerto and Francisco Coll’s “Lilith”

Stock Image: SJ Objio via Unsplash

Last week the Toronto Symphony Orchestra’s performance of Dvorak’s cello concerto in B minor, and the North American premier of the commission “Lilith” reminded us of the absolute power that live performance art can have on the emotions of those present. Performed at Roy Thomson Hall, this concert was a huge success and let us tell you why.

               We will start with our thoughts on the cello concerto. Dvorak is a composer who in his works covers a wide breadth of emotions and experiences. In one moment his work is pensive and heartbreaking, the next it is grandiose and epic. To be up to the task of playing his cello concerto is no small ask, but Pablo Ferrández was absolutely suited for it and played wonderfully. Ferrández had a wonderful sense of phrasing and interpretation, knowing when to lean into the music and when to back off. Dvorak’s compositions make it very clear that he loved music, the world, and the human experience. This care and passion came through for all to hear in each down bow, and his cadenza passages, full of warmth and pathos.

               We are writing in reverse program order and now we want to look at the commission in this concert. “Lilith” was composed by Francisco Coll and had its North American premier last Thursday when we attended. We try to be honest when we say that we at times have difficulty with contemporary works. To the new observer it can be potentially unapproachable, without familiar structure and melodic anchors. We don’t mean to be too broad in saying this, as all works have their merits and interesting moments. But we found “Lilith” to be one of the best commissions we have heard in a long time.

               The suite inspired by the mythical story of Lilith is one of conflicting meanings for different people, and was full of mystery and complex emotions. These ideas came through wonderfully in the performance. The orchestration was the biggest win for Coll, we think, as their understanding and use of timbre and range was skillfully executed. The low flutes and shimmering articulations made it feel like one was peering into a scry, trying to see into the foggy past. The later movements carried on the mystery: a waltz which felt sinister and manipulative, losing control of those things greater than ourselves, and in the final movement the orchestration was lush and imposing.

               Other than the fact that we, per our tastes, enjoyed the work, what it did well was that the harmonic ideas were consistent with the theme and made sense in their progression. The sharp rhythmic hits brought intrigue, curiosity, and drama, while the cinematic orchestration painted scenes in our minds. These aspects gave the audience a sense of grounding and direction in a very helpful way.

               The power that can be achieved from an orchestra (or music in general) is not only that of sonic and volume intensity, but the devastating emotional impact which can follow. Coll was able to harness all its power, all its intensity, forming this fantastical musical behemoth which formed before us. The imposing power of the musical storytelling was like looking into the sublime, leaving the audience frozen by that which was before us. We were stuck to our seats, only able to stare into the maw of the behemoth which played into our ears, not being able to do anything but hope that it wasn’t staring back.