UTAH SYMPHONY, Abravanel Hall, May 23; second performance 8 p.m. May 24, tickets at 801-355-2787, 888-451-2787 or www.utahsymphony.org 

[DISCLAIMER: I’ve known cellist Matthew Zalkind, this weekend’s guest artist, since he was an infant. So if you choose not to believe all the glowing things I’m about to say regarding his performance Friday of Tchaikovsky’s Variations on a Rococo Theme, that’s your prerogative. But you’d be wrong.]

The charm and elegant simplicity of the Rococo Variations exhibit Tchaikovsky’s deep affinity for Mozart. Zalkind not only understood this, but had enough confidence not to try to over-impress with the hyper-romanticized schmaltz typical of so many cellists who perform this piece. Especially for someone just embarking upon a career, the result was that much more impressive. With facile technical command and unfailing good taste it would not surprise me at all if that career vaults him into the top echelon of concert artists.

The program began with Carl Nielsen’s Sixth Symphony. Nielsen’s music is an acquired taste. That doesn’t suggest it isn’t worth acquiring, because other things Danish, like aquavit and smoked fish, can grow on you over time and the world would undoubtedly be the lesser without them. Nevertheless, Nielsen hasn’t been embraced by American audiences as much as others of his era who also had strong national tendencies, such as Bártok from Hungary or Sibelius from Finland. I’m not sure why that is the case. Nielsen’s finely crafted symphony certainly has a distinctively fresh voice and conveys a wide range of expression, from burlesque-like humor to prayerful reverence. On the other hand, occasionally there’s the sense that sometimes things do seem to happen randomly and wander aimlessly, at least to my ear. To a Dane’s ear, though, Nielsen may well sound as comfortably familiar as Aaron Copland does for us, so Maestro Thierry Fischer and the Utah Symphony, by having performed all of his symphonies this season, should be thanked for providing us with that opportunity to make Nielsen more accessible.

Rachmaninoff’s propensity for lush overstatement is perhaps the most endearing quality of his music. The Symphonic Dances evokes images of a turgid Bette Davis/Ray Milland noir drama, and I suppose there’s nothing wrong with that. I have a lot of respect for Rachmaninoff’s skills and melodic gift, but maybe because only recently I was involved in oft-repeated performances of his Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini, by the time Friday’s Symphonic Dances ended I felt as if I had grossly overindulged at the Stein Ericksen Sunday buffet.

That notwithstanding, it should be noted how wonderfully the musicians of the Utah Symphony sound these days! The Nielsen symphony, especially, is awfully difficult for all concerned, but from the symphony’s first notes on Keith Carrick’s glockenspiel to the violin section wailing through two nightmarish pages of sixteenth notes in the last movement, everyone’s playing was as good as one could wish for from any orchestra. The work that Maestro Fischer has done with the musicians is clearly paying off, and he seemed more confident and relaxed conducting them than on previous occasions, guiding the ensemble rather than controlling it. Plus, there are a bunch of very fine new and young players, so the future for the orchestra, musically anyway, looks very bright.

In recognition of it being the final weekend of this season’s Masterworks series, Maestro Fischer and the orchestra rewarded the audience with a dashing encore of the Nielsen Maskarade Overture as a token of thanks for its continued support.

UTAH SYMPHONY, Abravanel Hall, March 7; additional performance 8 p.m. March 8, tickets at 801-355-2787, 888-451-2787 or www.utahsymphony.org 

Friday night the Utah Symphony performed an intriguing program under the energetic baton of guest conductor Mark Wigglesworth.  The program comprised three distinctly different symphonies composed approximately a 100 years apart at the ends of the 18^th, 19^th and 20^th centuries, respectively.  As such, the audience had an insightful glimpse into the full evolution of the symphony — both in form and esthetic possibilities — from its early days up to very recent times.  The Utah Symphony musicians were predictably excellent, and one sensed an affinity with Maestro Wigglesworth’s tastefully dynamic style.

Mark Wigglesworth (Photo: Ben Ealovega)

The only bone I have to pick with his effervescent Mozart Haffner Symphony was the all-too-apparent imbalance between the brass and the strings, especially the first violins.  Why is it that conductors insist upon using a skeleton crew of string players when half the section is schmoozing in the lounge waiting to be called for the next piece?  Yes, we all know that in the 18^th century orchestras were smaller.  But so were concert halls, and it also is pretty clear that composers in those days — including Mozart — when given their druthers would have given their eye teeth to squeeze as many musicians on the stage as would fit.  Furthermore, if you’re going to do away other performance conventions of the time, including declining to take Mozart’s repeats (in the Andante, which Maestro Wigglesworth should have; after all, he did choose to take the big repeat in the first movement of the Dvorák, which he needn’t have), then why not add adequate meat to the bones of the string sound? There’s a point at which scholarship should be subservient to the performance — to my ear, that point is when you can’t hear the tune. Having a fuller section — and perhaps a little more precise direction from the podium — might also have helped the last movement Presto, which should have been scintillating but came off a bit ragged.

The Symphony No. 4 by Witold Lutoslawski — brooding, dense, cataclysmic at times, a stark contrast to the Mozart — was perhaps the most compellingly performed piece of the evening.  Lutoslawski’s voice, while remaining singular, in some ways echoes his East European antecedents in Béla Bartók, and yes, even to some degree, Dvorák.  All three were master orchestrators and, as grand as their orchestral vision was, composed with clarity of line and carefully considered sense of structure.  There were excellent solos by principal clarinetist Tad Calcara to start the journey, and later by pianist Jason Hardink and concertmaster Ralph Matson.  Lutoslawski is not yet a household name in American concert halls, but bravo to Maestro Wigglesworth and the Utah Symphony for taking a giant step in that direction.

What can one say (or play) about the Dvorák Symphony From the New World that hasn’t already been said (or played)?  The piece is like everyone’s favorite uncle who never wears out his welcome no matter how many times he comes to visit and tells the same story. Even when it gets a little frayed around the edges, as it did on a few occasions last night, it makes the visit all the more endearing.  Almost all of the performance, though, was wonderfully done.  Kudos to English hornist Lissa Stolz who, following in the footsteps of her predecessor Holly Gornik, played the famous solo in the Largo with touching beauty.  Also a shout out to the string bass section for nailing the final chord of that movement, both for intonation and balance (no easy feat), and to oft-overlooked sensitive triangle playing in the Scherzo.  All in all, the great tunes and rhythms had wonderful energy, all the tempos worked, and the climaxes were well-timed and dramatic.  What’s not to love?