O.C. MUSIC REVIEW : Pacific Symphony Plays an Uncommon Concert

The evening certainly began with a bang. Carl St.Clair, the ever-enterprising music-director of the cautiously adventurous Pacific Symphony, introduced his program Wednesday night at the Performing Arts Center with some clangorous riffs and roars.

But this was no ordinary event. It could not open with an ordinary fanfare.

This was a rare evening devoted exclusively to music of the 20th Century. Even more dangerous, perhaps, it was an evening devoted to American music of the 20th Century.

Although the pervasive accents were conservative, the daring spirit could not be denied. Liberalism, even in matters musical, remains a relative thing in Orange County.

Cliched logic would have dictated that the prelude to the evening be Aaron Copland’s much-traveled and well-loved “Fanfare for the Common Man,” written back in 1942. St.Clair decided, however, to end the festivities with the craggy grandeur of Copland’s Symphony No. 3 (1944), which incorporates the “Common Man” theme. For openers, the maestro opted for a rousing “Fanfare for the Uncommon Woman,” written in 1987 by Joan Tower.

The title may seem a bit contrived, yet no one can deny its political correctness. And the little piece d’occasion certainly did make a mighty, nifty noise.

It was followed by the peace and quiet of John Corigliano’s “Voyage” for string orchestra, completed in 1976 and now receiving its belated Coast premiere. The music of Corigliano, whose First Symphony was championed by St.Clair & Co. last season and whose piano concerto is on the agenda next year, is becoming something of a repertory fixture here. The Pacific Symphony could do far worse.

“Voyage,” initially conceived as a choral piece, does not strain the brain or stretch the ears. It does flow its syrupy course, however, with deft grace.

The same can be said for most of Samuel Barber’s 53-year-old Violin Concerto. It concentrates on neo-romantic sighs and whimpers for two movements and then musters some agitated muscle-flexing for a mildly--very mildly--dissonant finale. This always has been modern music for people who really don’t want to hear modern music. As such, it is good stuff.

Anne Akiko Meyers, a 22-year-old fiddler obviously on her way to the career roof, played the lyrical passages with muted elegance, the bravura climaxes with reasonable flair and welcome accuracy. She may not strive for the unbridled passion of Nadja Salerno-Sonnenberg (who recorded the concerto with the London Symphony) or the sentimental indulgence of Ruggiero Ricci (who recorded it with the selfsame Pacific Symphony under Keith Clark--remember Keith Clark?). Nevertheless, Meyers’ knowing restraint and technical finesse create their own compulsion.

The large audience showed its appreciation by stubbornly applauding after every movement, and destroying continuity in the process. The soloist literally turned her back on the premature ovations, but her gesture made no impact.

The Copland Symphony, which came after intermission, sounded unusually tough, spare and unsentimental in this context. It also sounded broadly heroic, and poignant in spite of itself.

In the cool light of 1993, one might worry about the raucous ending of the second movement, or the formulaic structure of the valedictory cadences. Never mind. The cumulative drama of the piece is still monumental.

St.Clair conducted every item on the program as if it were a deathless masterpiece. His dedication and conviction obviously were infectious. The orchestra responded to his heated urgings with unfailing sympathy, unified fervor and unexpected polish.

Progress.