The Chicago Symphony Orchestra had a big night Thursday at the Ravinia Festival as Music Director Designate Klaus Mäkelä, set to take on his full duties in September 2027, made his debut at the outdoor series in Highland Park where the ensemble has summered since 1936.
Appearances by CSO music directors at Ravinia are actually quite rare. Georg Solti and Riccardo Muti led the orchestra at other times but never while music director. And Daniel Barenboim made appearances in just two summers over his 1991-2006 tenure.
That Mäkelä, 30, would carve time out of his stuffed international schedule for a pair of concerts at Ravinia shows that he obviously wants to do things his way. It also makes evident that he is committed to this orchestra and interested in connecting with suburban audiences, who might come downtown to Orchestra Hall only sporadically or not at all.
Even better, he brought the same level of enthusiasm and intensity to this concert as does to his Orchestra Hall concerts — his purposefulness illustrated by the uncompromising black tie and white jacket he sported on this warm, steamy evening. These were all clear positives.
The concert was also an opportunity to take stock of the significant changes to Ravinia’s 76-year-old main stage, now called the Hunter Pavilion, which has undergone a handsome, much-needed $70 million makeover. Improvements include a more spacious stage, a striking ziggurat-patterned acoustic shell and enhanced lighting.
But what was most important Thursday evening, of course, was the musicmaking, and Mäkelä and the orchestra delivered in convincing fashion. The unequivocal highlight of this concert came in the second half when the ensemble — augmented to 102 players (including the addition of the unusual Wagner tuba) — offered an interpretation of Richard Strauss’ “An Alpine Symphony,” Op. 64, that was nothing short of sublime.
To get a sense of the emotional impact of this performance, consider that at its deliberate, quiet conclusion, Mäkelä held his hands in front of him and froze for at least 20 seconds. And until he finally lowered his hands, there was not a hint of applause, just complete, appreciative silence — something that almost never happens, no matter how hard conductors try.
Though this 50-minute 1915 work is labeled a symphony, it is really an uninterrupted, 22-section tone poem that wordlessly tells a simple story: an ascent of an alpine peak as night turns into day and back to night, with bird calls, waterfalls and myriad other sights and sounds, all spectacularly evoked in Strauss’ magical score.
This performance throbbed with inner joy, captivating energy and masterful ease, with musicians across the orchestra making the most of their moments in the spotlight, none more memorable than a hushed, introspective solo by principal clarinetist Stephen Williamson.
Despite having to deal with Ravinia’s determined cicadas and other ambient outdoor sounds and the inevitable loss of aural naturalness that comes with amplification, Mäkelä and the orchestra managed to achieve an impressively refined sound, nuanced dynamics and a surprising sense of intimacy during the piece’s softest moments.
(Ravinia’s sound crew deserves considerable credit, especially the team controlling the mixing board, but also apparently contributing were the much-touted improvements to the on-stage acoustics meant to help the musicians hear each other better.)
The CSO’s superlative take on “An Alpine Symphony” more than made up for the lackluster first half, which was devoted to Jean Sibelius’ Violin Concerto in D minor, Op. 47, one of the most oft-performed works in this form.
This performance just never quite gelled. It didn’t help that some of the balances were out of whack here, presumably issues with the amplification — especially the French horns being overpowering at times.
The featured soloist was 25-year-old Swedish violinist Daniel Lozakovich, clearly a favorite of Mäkelä, who brought him to Orchestra Hall for CSO concerts in 2022. He possessed the expected technical virtuosity and admirably demonstrated a feel for the turned-in, anguished sensibility of this Scandinavian music, delivering affecting turns during its meditative sections.
But during the bigger moments, his playing just wasn’t big enough. A good example came at the well-known beginning of the fast third movement with its propulsive, highly rhythmic opening motif that just needed more punch and drive than he was able to provide.
Lozakovich returned to the stage for an encore, Nathan Milstein’s “Paganiniana,” but again, there were compelling turns of phrase and moments of shining virtuosity that did not quite add up to a cohesive musical whole.