Review: Conductor Esa-Pekka Salonen burrows into Bartók with the CSO
The conductor-composer, a youthful 66, had to bail on his annual Chicago Symphony booking last season to receive the Polar Music Prize, one of Scandinavia's highest cultural honors. Based on the pointed cheers during his Jan. 30 and Feb. 6 concerts — Salonen routinely stays for a minimum of two concert cycles — he was much missed. One especially craves Salonen's out-of-the-box programming in these long CSO seasons between music directors, which, thus far, have felt creatively rudderless.
To wit, Salonen brought two nights of assiduously played cornerstones by Béla Bartók: the Concerto for Orchestra and an immersive concert version of the one-act opera 'Bluebeard's Castle.' He also programmed a piece of his own, 2022's 'Sinfonia concertante for organ and orchestra'; Latvian organist Iveta Apkalna, one of the dedicatees, soloed. In a reversal of the usual fortunes at 220 S. Michigan, the two slam-dunk repertory pieces invited along for the ride — Richard Strauss's 'Don Juan' and Beethoven's Symphony No. 2 — came off workmanlike in comparison.
Salonen's Sinfonia concertante, programmed for the Jan. 30 concert cycle, turns the organ's austere timbres futuristic, like an alien anthem. In written comments, Salonen says he intended for the piece to live up to its 'sinfonia concertante' title — in other words, the organ is on equal footing with the orchestra, not above and apart from it.
That much is clear. The Sinfonia's best moments nail the handoff between organ and orchestra — Apkalna inheriting a line from the piccolo at the beginning, or locking in with the low brass on the pedalboard, the organ's foot-operated keyboard. At the very end, the organ hangs over the orchestra's final B-flat chord with a quiet D-flat-minorish chord, a sonority plucked from another world.
Salonen's orchestra writing, however, isn't his best — it's often blocky and meandering. On Thursday, it wasn't played with much phrasing or zhuzh from the strings, either.
The best part of his 'Sinfonia concertante for organ and orchestra' is, in fact, the organ. Salonen had apparently never composed for the instrument prior to the commission, and his exuberant writing brings us right into the sandbox with him.
With any luck, we'll hear more from Apkalna, too. She ended with a pealing, cascading toccata on the chorale 'Allein Gott in der Höh sei Ehr,' composed by fellow countryman Aivars Kalējs. The curtain-closer let Apkalna settle into her lyrical side rather than the stacked dissonance of the Sinfonia's cadenzas, her wrists elegantly rolling and flowing between manuals.
Hearing Salonen conduct his own work is always a pleasure, but Bartók was unequivocally the man of the hour for both concerts. On Jan. 30, a resplendent Concerto for Orchestra carried all the DNA of the CSO's long relationship with the piece — the 1955 Reiner recording helped usher it into the repertoire — and embraced a dramatic pacing that eluded the Strauss.
One can't heap praise on this performance without shouting out specific members of the orchestra — it's right there in the 'concerto' title. Stefán Ragnar Höskuldsson's flute solos were always passionately phrased, as was oboist William Welter's aubade-like solo in the first movement. Even sections that have seen some fitful performance in recent months sounded sterling, trombones led commandingly by Michael Mulcahy and horn solis sounding well-blended and clarion.
Salonen's 'Bluebeard' on Feb. 6 managed to raise the bar still higher. Tasteful lighting design by Keith Parham plopped us right into the heart of Bartók's disturbing tale: Judith marries the reclusive duke Bluebeard, only to find out his castle — and he, by extension — is cursed. Against Bluebeard's pleas, she finds successive horrors and splendors behind seven doors. At the opera's climax, the last door opens to reveal all of Bluebeard's previous wives. 'Jane Eyre's' Mr. Rochester looks like a Teletubby in comparison.
What doesn't work nearly so well in a concert version: having Bartók's thick orchestration surge directly behind the singers, rather than being curbed by a pit. Balances tended to be on the very edge of legibility. It didn't help that 'Bluebird's' singers had very different projection to begin with.
Christian Van Horn was more easily heard over the din. He was a natural Bluebeard, his powerful, sepulchral bass-baritone softened by a seductive warmth. One easily understood why Judith fell in love with such a morbid figure to begin with. As his opposite, mezzo-soprano Ekaterina Gubanova had a narrower, milder vocal palette but convincingly evoked Judith's mounting horror, gasping through jagged consonant clusters. Breezy Leigh — also the narrator in Salonen's recent 'Bluebeard' at the San Francisco Symphony — intoned the poetic, introductory text with the right amount of gravitas, the hall darkened save for a single spotlight illuminating her at stage right.
'Bluebeard's' libretto is crammed with references to specific color: blood-red, blue-green, ghostly white. Parham illuminated the terrace level behind the stage with colored light throughout, sometimes lifting hues directly from the text. Other times, he set out to create his own based on the scene's feel. (That said, with the audience facing rows of closed doors on the terrace and stage level, it felt like a lost opportunity to incorporate at least some of those into the staging, however on-the-nose it might have been.)
In the libretto, the opening of the fifth door casts 'bright light' into Bluebeard's darkened castle, accompanied by organ and auxiliary brass in the gallery. At that glorious, triple-forte moment, as Salonen turned to conduct the brass up above, Orchestra Hall itself flooded with light, brightening the faces of an astonished, awe-struck audience.
Moments like these are what music is made of — treating the audience as part of, not mere witness to, the spectacle. Salonen understands that. Too few do.
Also worth noting:
Attend CSO concerts this week or last, and you'll notice two substitute first trumpets: Cincinnati Symphony principal Anthony Limoncelli and Pittsburgh Symphony assistant principal Conrad Jones, in that order. CSO principal trumpet Esteban Batallán remains on leave to play in the Philadelphia Orchestra, with a looming end-of-month deadline to decide whether he will return to his seat or remain in Philly.
On Friday, the CSO also announced that concertmaster Robert Chen will withdraw from concerts Feb. 20–22 as he continues to recover from rotator cuff tendinitis. Solo violinist Stella Chen — a California-born Queen Elizabeth Competition winner — takes over.
While we're talking principal players, a note of appreciation to oboist William Welter, a CSO member since 2018. His solo in Jan. 30's 'Don Juan' was one for the ages: almost imperceptibly quiet at first, and never losing its delicacy and humanity as it crested. It was pure musical magic, no visuals necessary.
Hannah Edgar is a freelance critic.
The Rubin Institute for Music Criticism helps fund our classical music coverage. The Chicago Tribune maintains editorial control over assignments and content.
Originally Published: February 7, 2025 at 2:23 PM CST
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Chicago Tribune
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- Chicago Tribune
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Chicago Tribune
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- Chicago Tribune
Lynne Turner, CSO harpist since 1962, retires from the orchestra
You could say Lynne Turner's Chicago Symphony Orchestra career really began in 1956. That year, she made her debut with the orchestra, the winner of an audition call to headline its Young People's Concerts. Turner, then 14, played Handel's Harp Concerto in B-flat in four concerts that March. Covering Turner's win, a Chicago Tribune society writer described her as a 'pretty, vivacious miss' who was 'equally at home on a bike or roller skates, and likes nothing better than to spend a Saturday afternoon exchanging feminine chatter with school girl chums.' 'I suppose that was her way of reassuring readers that I was still a normal teenager,' Turner recalls, with some amusement. Normal, sure, but Turner grew up around an abnormal amount of music. Her father, Sol Turner, was a first violinist in the CSO; her mother, Evelyn, a pianist. According to the same Tribune article, her older sister, Carol, was accomplished enough on the violin to join the Civic Orchestra of Chicago, the CSO's prestigious training ensemble. Meanwhile, Turner's baby brother, Richard, followed in her footsteps: After his own Civic tenure, he went on to become principal harp in the Winnipeg Symphony Orchestra for 45 seasons. Before those Young People's Concerts, Turner wasn't gunning for an orchestra career, per se. But she now thinks of those performances as a catalyst. She also passed through the Civic Orchestra, then, in 1962 — the same year she became the first American to win the International Harp Contest — she joined the CSO itself. Turner's 63-season tenure with the orchestra ends with concerts at Ravinia on Aug. 9 and 17. 'For most of my life, the schedule of an orchestral musician has been the guiding rhythm — rehearsals, performances, travel, and, of course, practicing, which requires many hours each and every day,' she told the Tribune over email. 'But now, I feel a quiet pull toward a different kind of rhythm — one that makes space for more freedom, more spontaneity and perhaps a few surprises.' Life in the CSO has only gotten more bustling in recent decades. The orchestra often tops lists of the busiest American orchestras, calculated by the number of performances, rehearsals and other on-the-clock engagements. But playing under Fritz Reiner, the music director who hired Turner, brought its own intensity. Leading the CSO from 1953 to 1963, Reiner was a brutal taskmaster, the ensemble's musical excellence coming at the cost of some musicians' favor. Turner, however, fondly remembers the year she played under the Hungarian conductor's exacting baton. 'Maestro Reiner had a reputation for being intimidating, but on a personal level, he was very kind to me,' she says. 'There was an intensity and clarity to his leadership that brought out the best in all the sections of the orchestra. I understood from the very beginning that my performance had to be at the highest possible level. Anything less simply wouldn't do… In many ways, it shaped the way I approached my craft for the rest of my career.' Said craft is highly specialized. Today, second harpists are usually hired out as a freelance position and rarely part of permanent orchestra rosters. In repertoire that calls for more than one harp, the second harpist needs to be carefully attuned to the principal's sound in addition to their own. As Turner puts it, 'there's often an element of echo, shimmer, or color reinforcement in harp writing… and when the partnership clicks, it adds a real richness and depth to the texture of the ensemble.' That's easier said than done, according to Julia Coronelli, Milwaukee Symphony's principal harpist. '(Lynne) has a very signature sound that I've never heard anybody else recreate,' says Coronelli, who frequently sits next to Turner as a substitute in the CSO. 'I do think it's harder to play second harp in a lot of ways. You have to place everything with the principal player. That's very hard because of the immediate attack of the string.' The CSO's reputation as a world-class interpreter of Gustav Mahler's symphonies — which require supersized ensembles — means that Turner can be heard on the majority of the CSO's defining Mahler recordings. After joining the orchestra on its recent tour to the Mahler Festival in Amsterdam, Turner sought out the orchestra's 1971 recording of Mahler's Symphony No. 8 with then-music director Georg Solti. She was electrified all over again. 'It has been described as one of the greatest recordings of the 20th century, and I would agree,' Turner says. 'There was a sense among all of us that we were part of something momentous. The scale of the piece, the forces involved, the acoustics of the hall… It all added up to something unforgettable and enduring.' Another favorite CSO album, from 1976: David Del Tredici's 'Final Alice,' featuring soprano Barbara Hendricks and conducted by Solti. In that premiere recording, excerpts from Lewis Carroll's 'Alice in Wonderland' tumble through a kaleidoscope of orchestral color. 'It was such a bold, imaginative work — wildly inventive and completely unlike anything else in the repertoire,' she says. Though not recorded, Turner likewise treasures the memory of accompanying Chicago Symphony Chorus members in Benjamin Britten's 'A Ceremony of Carols,' for treble choir and harp. For that performance, Turner worked closely with Margaret Hillis — not only the founding director of the Chicago Symphony Chorus, but the first to break the CSO podium's gender barrier. 'Margaret Hillis was an undeniable presence: commanding, insightful and absolutely wonderful to work with. She had a deep musical intelligence and a real sense for shaping a performance in a way that brought out its emotional core,' Turner says. In Coronelli's eyes, Turner has been a pathbreaker in her own right. According to CSO records, just a little over a dozen women had been in the orchestra before her tenure. At the time she was hired, Turner was one of just three women in the ensemble. 'Obviously, she had to be really strong to do that,' Coronelli says. Today, about 40% of the orchestra's membership are women. That progress is thanks, in part, to pioneers like Turner. 'Today, the CSO reflects a far broader range of voices and identities, and that shift has been both meaningful and necessary,' she tells the Tribune. 'I'm proud to have witnessed — and been part of — that evolution.' Four musicians are retiring from the CSO this year — including assistant principal trumpet Mark Ridenour, who was acting principal of that section between 2003 and 2005, and violinist Joyce Noh, who became the first Asian woman to join the orchestra when she was hired in 1979. Upon their retirements between the 2024/25 and 2025/26 season, harpist Turner and principal trombonist Jay Friedman will be the longest-serving CSO musicians in history, having both joined the orchestra in 1962. Hired in their early 20s by the legendary conductor Reiner, few audiences have known a Chicago Symphony without them. Look for a story about Friedman in an upcoming edition of the Tribune's A+E section.
