| The festival season in Moscow ends with Chereshnevy Les The organizers of the Chereshnevy Forest festival - Krauterconcert, Bosco di Ciliegi, the Pushkin Museum and an impressive board of trustees headed by Oleg Yankovsky (there are also Galina Volchek, Edward Radzinsky, Yuri Bashmet, Viktor Tretyakov, Slava Zaitsev and others) - selected the event is a difficult genre of social reception on an artistic occasion.
The host of the concerts and trustee Ingeborga Dapkunaite all the time flirtatiously and tenderly asked to “turn off the device” (meaning the phone). Yankovsky smiled at the door and offered cherries. Trays of champagne and tartlets were being tossed around, boxes of chocolates were moving. During the intermission, sandwiched between Gradsky’s back and Sati Spivakova’s shoulder, the listener could not have deliberately touched Ekaterina Andreeva or stepped on Levon Oganezov’s foot: a touching story about how a society chronicler went to heaven.
Apart from the crushed cherries, the clink of falling glasses, a few musical details like the inexplicable choice of Justus Franz as the pianist of the “playing manager” and the chewing gum that I haven’t been able to get off my sole for two days now, the construction of secularism and artistry was a success. The audience looked charming, the musical part was impressive.
Without resorting to repertoire or thematic concepts, the festival achieved uniqueness. Plus cherries, aromas, three-liter jars of flowers, Butman and Kogan in the fresh air and multi-colored dust in the eyes - a beautiful performing cast: a mixture of the familiar and the unknown, democratic and elitist. (Spivakov, Tretyakov, Petrov, Pletnev, Bashmet - for the high; Pavel Kogan, Igor Butman, Justus Franz - for democracy in art; several guest performers - for aesthetic intrigue.)
The hall was dominated by “vintage things” (chic of the season, “antiques” from famous brands). One can only be surprised how much has been done in this style for a long time on the classical music market.
Here, for example, is Mozart’s Symphony Concertante, which Bashmet’s orchestra “Moscow Soloists” has been playing for as long as he can remember. In the famous interpretation, each fold was whimsically laid many years ago, but time increasingly ennobles the object. Previously, it was transparent and volatile, now astringency is noticeable in its range.
The entire festival dialogue of chamber orchestras was carried out in the same antique spirit. The post-war Viennese style (precise lines, strict forms) was demonstrated by the Vienna Chamber Orchestra. Vladimir Spivakov with “Virtuosi” proposed a signature style, invented several decades ago and still popular. He embellished the open pathos and sensitive instrumentalism with the careless playing of Vadim Repin (in the Bashmetov concert Viktor Tretyakov was more careful) and the vocal set performed by the pliable Dmitry Korchak and the persistent Rodion Pogosov. This made the old style fresher. But true vintage is when an archival item amazes with its newness. Only the program of the virtuoso English wind players London Wings with Mikhail Pletnev sounded like this: Beethoven's quintet for wind instruments and piano, not frightening pieces by the European avant-garde artist György Ligeti, Rimsky-Korsakov's quintet for wind instruments and piano - a small masterpiece of naive writing. The aristocracy of the rarities was emphasized by the extraordinary execution.
Now, if we discard wardrobe metaphors and promise to no longer compare the festival performances of the elite with the principle of the little black dress - as attractive as it is traditional - it remains to note: putting together a chic finale of the season from jokes and humor in almost all programs, a charming atmosphere, a thousand Hearing things performed in a well-known way and having the guest performers lost in the midst of it all evokes both admiration and fatigue. The mutual affection between the audience and the musicians makes it difficult to determine whose tears are more stingy. Why not decide that every audience, including the most expensive ones, deserves sophistication and strict (possibly rosy) professionalism. But if this decision is not heard and the obsessive choice between hits and performing sloppiness darkens the whole picture, then it is not the audience that you begin to suspect of rabid consumerism. Yulia BEDEROVA |
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