CLEVELAND, OH — Although I've heard The Cleveland Orchestra in New York enough times to realize that they are, hands down, one of the best orchestras in the world, it's always been a mystery to me how such an extraordinary ensemble could survive in this Rust Belt city of less than 400,000. Sure, I've heard all of the stories about how George Szell, Cleveland's legendary music director from 1946 until his death in 1970, fired half of the musicians and drilled those remaining within an inch of their life, until they became known as one of the "Big Five" U.S. orchestras, along with New York, Boston, Chicago and Philadelphia. But Szell's been gone for nearly half a century, and there have been three music directors since his departure, each with their own unique style that has nothing to do with Szell's. It's also worth noting that during that same half century, Cleveland has lost nearly half of its population—and presumably its potential audience.
So, last weekend, I decided to visit Cleveland to try to unravel this mystery for myself. What I discovered was a city divided between old timers who are fiercely proud of their famous orchestra and younger newcomers who presume that the local orchestra is no better than the Cavs, Browns, or Indians. That's to say, not very good.
On Friday night, I went with my friends Joe and Nicole—both young professionals—to see the Clevelanders at Severance Hall, an art nouveau palace that is often referred to (with apologies to Carnegie) as the "most beautiful concert hall in America." The hall, which is owned by the orchestra, is curiously not downtown, but five miles east in a neighborhood called University Circle, which is also home to the art museum, botanical garden, and Case Western Reserve University, among other cultural institutions. Apparently, this is the money side of Cleveland, and patrons back in the day no doubt wanted to be close to home by curtain time.
Completed in 1931, Severance Hall has a plain Georgian exterior coated in Ohio sandstone that's intended to blend in with the surrounding buildings. But, from the moment you step inside the foyer, it's impossible not to be overwhelmed by the marble columns and gleaming murals that blend Art Deco with Egyptian Revival. Everywhere you look there are lotus blossoms, said to be a favorite of John Severance's wife Elisabeth, who passed away during the hall's construction.
The concert hall itself is an eye-popping riot of alumimum and mauve, covering every inch of the ceiling, proscenium, and stage, thanks to a renovation that was completed in 2000. The only interiors I can compare it to are the lobbies of the Empire State Building and Chrysler Buidling, both built around the same time; the Vienna Konzerthaus also came to mind. Prior to the renovation, Szell had the stage covered with a plain maple shell that dramatically improved the acoustics but clashed with the rest of the hall's ornate interior, not to mention covered up the 6,000-pipe Skinner organ, which is now back in use.
As we looked around the hall, we noticed a surprisingly high number of well-dressed young folks, some wearing nametags. As it turned out, Friday night was the launch of the orchestra's new young-professionals program, The Circle, offering patrons in their 20s and 30s prime orchestra seats to select concerts—along with a pre-concert reception—for $15 a month. Even before The Circle came about, Cleveland was able to boast the youngest average age of any major orchestra in America, largely thanks to a well-funded program called the Center for Future Audiences that offers discount tickets to students and free tickets to anyone under 18, when accompanied by an adult. There's even a Frequent FanCard for young gourmandizers that offers unlimited single tickets for the entire season, for only $50.
Franz Welser-Möst, Cleveland's music director since 2002, opened Friday's concert with Mozart's "Prague" Symphony No. 38, an exercise in balance and clarity. The orchestra was sharp as a tack under Welser-Möst, who may not be as dynamic as other conductors, but always gets results. Sitting in the center of the orchestra section, the sound was loud and clear, if slightly lacking in resonance.
Welser-Möst has become something of a champion of the young German composer Jörg Widmann (b. 1973), appointing him as Cleveland's Young Composer Fellow from 2009–11. On Friday, the Clevelanders gave the U.S. Premiere of Teufel Amor (Devil Love): a 30-minute "symphonic hymn" inspired by a fragment of a love poem by Friedrich Schiller. Widmann, who is also a clarinetist, writes in the severe modernist style of his teachers Hans Werner Henze and Heiner Goebbels, requiring exacting precision from the Cleveland players. With its low guttural drones, piercing piccolos, and brutal percussion, Widmann seemed to throw everything but the kitchen sink at us, leaving me and most of the audience confused as to what, exactly, he was trying to convey.
There aren't many pianists who could adequately replace Radu Lupu, who was scheduled to close Friday's concert with Beethoven's Fourth Piano Concerto but was unable to travel due to illness. Enter Yefim Bronfman, fresh off his performance of Lindberg's Second Piano Concerto with the NY Phil, who knows this concerto like the back of his hand; he'll be playing all five Beethoven concertos this June with the Phil. Fima gave a pure, probing performance of this masterwork, eliciting gasps from the audience at his explosive virtuosity. There were further gasps during the second movement, after an elderly woman passed out in the Dress Circle, which Fima and Welser-Möst sagely played through. Everything came together in the finale: Fima playing with heart and precision even while his energy seemed to be flagging, the Cleveland strings sharp as a dagger in their attack. Appropriately, the house gave Fima and the orchestra a standing ovation.
As amazing as Friday's concert was, there was a special magic in Severance Hall when I returned there on Monday for their 11th annual Community Open House, part of Cleveland's city-wide celebration of Martin Luther King Day. Along with instrumental and dance performances by local ensembles, there were interactive exhibits and art projects where kids could learn all about King. In the concert hall, I caught a stunning performance by the Cleveland Orchestra Youth Chorus, singing spirituals and hymns by John Rutter, Morten Lauridsen, Samuel Barber, and Arvo Pärt, under their director, Lisa Wong. I won't soon forget hearing these high schoolers sing "Motherless Child," their pure, seamless voices soaring up into the gilded ceiling.
Then, after one last long look at the hall, I exited into the foyer, only to find a bunch of kids line dancing, with DJ Terry Macklin in the second tier. I couldn't help but think of the kids dancing to Petrushka in the foyer of the Philharmonie in 2003, part of the Berlin Philharmonic's Zukunft education program. As the Cleveland Plain-Dealer noted at the hall's opening in 1931:
"We believe that Mr. Severance intended to build a temple to music and not a temple to wealth; and we believe it is his intention that all music lovers should be welcome there."
The following day the orchestra and staff took off for Miami, where they will be in residence for the next two weekends. But it's clear to me now that there is something particular about this hall, and this city, without which the Cleveland Orchestra wouldn't be who they are. Call it pride, call it warmth, call it being a big fish in a small pond–whatever it is, it's for real. Suffice it to say, I'm already looking forward to my next visit.
More pics from Friday's concert here. More pics from Monday's Open House here.