Elgar, Mozart and Tchaikovsky at Grace Church On-the-hill

Cir­cum­stances have pre­vented me from attend­ing many live con­certs, recent­ly, so I jumped at the chance when Isaac White and his par­ents kind­ly invit­ed me to a con­cert at Grace Church On-the-hill, a hand­some Angli­can church built in 1912. I arrived ear­ly, so I spent an hour wan­der­ing around For­est Hill, in Suy­dam Park, Rel­mar Gar­dens, and the Cedar­vale ravine before meet­ing Isaac at the Sec­ond Cup. For­est Hill is like a small town embe­ded in the city, with its own lit­tle “main street” and a thick canopy of maples. In the crisp autumn air, the vil­lage seems like a Ray Brad­bury sto­ry re-writ­ten by Mar­garet Atwood. Among the stacks of pump­kins and the drift­ing red and gold fall­en leaves, the Angli­can, Unit­ed Church and Jew­ish ver­sions of Toron­to Respectabil­ity com­pete. No place could seem far­ther from the woes of the world. The local book store has a strange­ly mor­bid dis­play of high­ly lit­er­ary titles in its win­dow, with each title accom­pa­nied by a card explain­ing how the author died (did you know that Roland Barthes was run over by a laun­dry truck?). There are very com­fort­able pub­lic bench­es on the side­walks, a rar­ity in the rest of pen­ny-pinch­ing Toron­to. In the ravine, I saw a dog chas­ing a cat chas­ing a squir­rel chas­ing a leaf.

When Isaac showed up, we walked up to the church, and met his par­ents. I’d been up for two days with­out sleep, and had been pump­ing myself with cof­fee all day long, so I’m afraid I was unchar­ac­ter­is­ti­cally imp­ish and talk­a­tive. The fea­tured per­form­ers were Sin­fo­nia Toron­to, a cham­ber orches­tra direct­ed by Nurhan Arman, accom­pa­nied by pianist Angela Park. The pro­gram includ­ed Elgar’s Ser­e­nade, Op.20; Mozart’s ninth piano con­certo, and a string orches­tra ver­sion of Tchaikovsky’s Sou­venir de Flo­rence, Op.70, which is nor­mally per­formed as a string sex­tet. The Elgar was a famil­iar favourite of mine, and was well enough per­formed. Angela Park did a pro­fes­sional, but not espe­cially inspired ren­di­tion of Mozart’s “Jeune­homme” con­certo. But after the inter­mis­sion, there came a sur­prise. The Tchaikovsky piece would not nor­mally appeal much to me, but from the first wave of the bat­ton, I was swept up in it. This was not the usu­al, half-heart­ed, mild­ly embarassed inter­pre­ta­tion of Tchaikovsky that you usu­ally get in Cana­da. They played it pop­erly, like a bunch of vod­ka-fueled Rus­sians would do it, all the unabashed emo­tion pour­ing out with­out restraint, The lead vio­la and lead vio­lin­ist both played their hearts out, not pulling back on even the most impas­sioned phras­es. The last two move­ments were expe­cially impres­sive. They have noth­ing even remote­ly relat­ed to Flo­rence in them, and don’t seem to have much to do with the first part of the piece, but what-the-hey, nobody ever said that log­ic was Tchaikovsky’s strong point. The effect on the audi­ence was dra­matic: the polite applause of the first half of the con­cert was replaced with the real stuff.

I’d like to thank Mr. and Mrs. White for pro­vid­ing a much-need­ed injec­tion of live music, which cheered me up con­sid­er­ably. I hope my cafeindish chat­ter­ing didn’t offend them. After the con­cert, Isaac and I played Nin­tendo Wii ten­nis until my cumu­la­tive exhaus­tion kicked in.

Leave a Comment