Glitch of the birds doesn't keep ISO concert from taking flight

Joshua Weilerstein whipped up energy with a purpose.

The last time the Sibelius violin concerto was played in an Indianapolis Symphony Orchestra concert, the choice of symphony on the program also ended with several widely separated orchestral stabs. But there aren't many other resemblances between William Walton's First Symphony and Jean Sibelius' Fifth.

Both are important landmarks in their composer's careers. The better-known Sibelius at the end of Friday's program (to be repeated at 5:30 this afternoon) put a crown upon the Finland installment of this season's thematic series of "postcards" from different nations. The representation this weekend had those two Sibelius works companioned by a slight piece of picturesqueness by Ida Moberg ("Sunrise") and Einojuhani Rautavaara's "Cantus Arcticus." 

The secondary works reinforced  Finnish admiration for nature in the northernmost parts of the planet. Guest conductor Joshua Weilerstein even read a long diary entry by the country's musical icon celebrating the inspiration he got from swans as he wrote his Fifth Symphony. The finale of the three-movement work encapsulates what buoyed Sibelius creatively about the swirling energy of large flocks of the white birds, with a triumphant hymn set on top. 

As notable as that conclusion is, the Sibelius Fifth shares with two other great 20th-century fifth symphonies a distinctive way of concluding the first movement. Dmitri Shostakovich Fifth's opening statement, complex and anxious, ends with celesta and strings quietly meditating with either relief or gentle questioning the path forward. The first movement of Sergei Prokofiev's Fifth wraps up with grinding, chromatic determination.

A third way shows up with Sibelius in the earliest of the three Fifths. As played Friday in Hilbert Circle Theater, it had such thickened motoric energy in the final measures that when it ended, there was a "Wow!" or two  and an outburst of applause that was unique from this audience. The smallish crowd was normally respectful of the much criticized tradition of saving the ovation until the end of a multi-movement composition. It was a model audience, in fact, rapt during the music and generous with applause and shouts at the end.

Weilerstein was a dependable catalyst for the orchestra's outpouring of vitality. More than that, he was sensitive to the modernist foreshadowings in this century-old piece, leaning into the momentary  dissonances. He reveled in the fragmentary phrases that somehow Sibelius bends toward coalescence and, in the second movement, showed an extraordinary feeling for changes of tempo and texture. His athleticism on the podium didn't seem to be about empty showmanship, but was rather attuned to musical events both big and small. By the time that famous punctuation-with-pauses was nailed down to cap the concert, he had the audience in the palm of his hand.

Such traits served him well in guiding the accompaniment to Alexi Kenney's soloing in Sibelius's sole concerto. Kenney's interpretive approach emphasized a smooth, patrician manner, precise about phrasing yet able to wax passionate. The orchestral tuttis billowed and soared. 

As with the last interpretation of the work here (the soloist was James Ehnes), in the Allegro ma non tanto the "but not too much" was ignored. This made several upward sweeping phrases of great rapidity a bit approximate in Friday's performance. The musicologist Donald Francis Tovey's oft-quoted description of the finale as "a polonaise for polar bears," while not definitive, properly suggests that there ought to  be a lumbering quality to the triple-meter dance that Sibelius constructed.

Alexi Kenney: a smooth Sibelius violin concerto, with oomph. 

But the appeal of Kenney's performance was sustained, and his technical security was nearly absolute. The composer's best melody, nearly on the same level as that in "Finlandia," shapes the second movement; Kenney and the orchestra were fully responsive to it. A pleasant surprise came with the encore: Weilerstein left the stage and returned with a violin of his own. He and Kenney then played a delightful duo among  Bela Bartok's many for two violins: "The Bagpipe."

The evening's other surprise was totally unplanned. The electronic bird calls essential to Rautavaara's "concerto for birds and orchestra" could not be lined up on cue. As the delay began, the visiting maestro told the audience "our birds have gone silent," soon adding, with deft comic timing: "Tomorrow we'll bring live birds." Electronic order was eventually restored, though the balance of orchestra and birds, particularly in the finale "Swans Migrating," was overwhelmingly weighted toward the swans. Maybe the balance was better in the balcony. Rautavaara's writing for the orchestra honors the birds of the Arctic Circle, in any case, and never tries to cage them.

The concert opened with a lulling tune offered to honor Ukraine in its current struggle to resist Russian aggression. It was "Melody" by Myroslav Skoryk, a Ukrainian composer, and served its purpose well.