MUSIC REVIEW : Salonen Previews Salzburg Festival at Hollywood Bowl

Delirious agitation surrounds the Los Angeles Philharmonic these days. Our orchestra is about to take up residence at the Salzburg Festival--the presumably rejuvenated, reportedly de-snobbified yet still superprestigious Salzburg Festival in which Gerard Mortier of Brussels does his best to exorcise the ghost of Konig Herbert von Karajan.

Esa-Pekka Salonen and his eager charges are frantically brushing up their Messiaen, not to mention their Mahler and Stravinsky. Appreciative politicos, both foreign and domestic, are falling over each other to pay formal homage. Austrian glamour beckons, and two Hollywood Bowl concerts this week are serving as out-of-town tryouts.

No one is likely to confuse our 18,000-seat amphitheater under the stars with the sleek and intimate (everything is relative) Grosses Festspielhaus in the town of Mozart and marzipan. But when the Philharmonic makes its ballyhooed debut in Salzburg next Thursday, the program will duplicate the one that drew cheers--and, where appropriate, amazingly rapt silence--from an audience of 12,694 at Cahuenga Pass on Tuesday.

Not everything, of course, will be the same in Salzburg. Tickets at the Bowl range from $61 to $1. Admission to the Festspielhaus can cost as much as $180, while $14 fetches a balcony seat with an obstructed view.

In Hollywood, the gentlemen of the orchestra still sport dinner jackets; in Salzburg they will model tails, as part of Salonen’s new dress code. Although the soloist in Mahler’s Fourth Symphony here was a little-known local soprano, Salzburg will host a star: Barbara Hendricks.

Most interesting, perhaps, the Philharmonic has scheduled three more rehearsals for the familiar program prior to braving the European spotlight. Practice will, no doubt, polish the perfection.

It seems unlikely, however, that polish would be a problem even with less preparation. The Philharmonic is now a virtuoso instrument in the best American tradition, and Salonen plays it brilliantly. If Salzburg finds any fault next Thursday, the most serious difficulties may involve the maestro’s choice of repertory.

Bringing compositional coals to Newcastle, he has decided to survey three startlingly disparate faces of Austrian music. For starters, he dances through Johann Strauss’ “Emperor” Waltz, an indulgence normally limited to New Year’s Eve in Viennese concert halls. For a jolting centerpiece, he ventures the harmonic and expressive agonies of Alban Berg’s Violin Concerto, and to send everyone home smiling, he turns to Mahler’s folksy symphonic benediction.

One can see, and applaud, his schematic logic. Still, it must be admitted that these contrasting pieces make strange billfellows.

The best part of the program at the Bowl came in the middle. Salonen untied the emotive knots of the Berg concerto with calm authority and exceptional clarity, always sustaining tension and always avoiding the traps of sentimental distortion. The inherent pathos was enhanced by his interpretive restraint.

Kyung Wha Chung complemented his intelligent approach by playing the sometimes gnarled rhetoric with purity, lyricism and poise worthy of Mozart. Among world-class violinists, she may not command the biggest tone or the most flamboyant personality. Nonetheless, her muted bravura and innate taste remain especially compelling virtues in this formidable challenge.

The extended Strauss waltz found Salonen dutifully observing such echt-Wienerisch niceties as the hesitation beat and the delayed lilt. It also found him luxuriating in subtle orchestral punctuation. Only the wonted illusion of spontaneity proved elusive.

The Mahler Fourth has long been a Salonen specialty. He has already played the symphony twice during winter seasons, and he recently recorded it in Los Angeles. Some listeners (this one, for instance) may find his performance a bit tight and mannered--too fast in the opening movement, too slow in the third, too unyielding in the finale. No one, however, can deny the propulsive force he brings to the agitated climaxes, or the loving detail with which he illuminates the introspective detours.

Young Jennifer Smith sang the innocent “Wunderhorn” verses of the finale sweetly if blandly. Her tone tended to evaporate in the cold night air as the scale descended, but she remained laudably unfazed when Salonen’s speedy tempo threatened to scramble the vocal line.