Contrary elements in conducting
Riccardo Muti's second concert in Hong Kong was a homage to his own composers. Every work was by Italians, virtually all were concerned with opera. Muti relished the homogeneous conception.
After his initial concert on Sunday, it occurred that Muti combines two most contrary elements in his conducting. In technique, force and discipline, he has the authority of a Teutonic leader, never allowing a moment of relaxation or sloppiness from his fine orchestra. But in temperament he has the most lyrical, almost romantic style.
In that first concert, he practically danced through the Beethoven and squeezed out luscious emotion from the strait-laced Elgar.
In this second concert, outside of Busoni - who himself combined the German and Italian - Muti never had to transform the lyrical element. Those songs were on the score: he waved his magic wand, and the orchestra sailed through them.
For William Tell, his podium stance was exaggerated, but the first three-quarters of the music were as serious as Rossini intended. The Verdi and Bellini overtures were filled with fire and drama, but always with silken operatic character.
The Busoni suite from the original play of Turandot (which was later turned into an opera) is too enigmatic for such untrammeled enjoyment. For this music, Busoni combined Chinese, Turkish, Nubian, Italian and English music, exemplifying world oneness in art.
Unfortunately, for all his philosophy and musical scholarship, Busoni was that rare Italian who could not write a decent tune. The result verged on the cinematic.
As for Respighi's Pines of Rome, Muti could not go wrong. Respighi himself was a Fascist, and the music of the 1920s was meant to acclaim 'the glory that was Rome'. Fortunately, it never - quite - reached the bombast of his hero, Mussolini. Muti played it with sheer power, lovely lines and all the colour his magic could convoke. Philharmonic Orchestra of La Scala, Riccardo Muti conductor, HK Cultural Centre Concert Hall, September 9
