IMPRESARIO: In Case You Missed It — Yo-Yo Ma at the Mann
I suspect that I must have missed a memo, an e-mail, or some sort of notice regarding Yo-Yo Ma’s performance with the Philadelphia Orchestra when its summer season at the Mann Center started up on Monday: His name was at the top of every bill, and a full-length bio was included in the text of the program, but he was on stage for only one piece.
The first two songs passed without even the slightest hint that Ma might be performing. There was no riser. There was no chair. Really, the sole bit of information that was even the slightest bit reassuring that I hadn’t picked the wrong night to attend was a listing for Camille Saint-Saëns’ Cello Concerto No. 1 in A minor.
With the conclusion of Aaron Copland’s Appalachian Spring Suite (a piece that featured a breathtaking ascending cello line that assumed qualities of the human voice and a particularly loquacious sparrow outside the theater), the dream world the music had created was torn asunder as the crowds came piling in through the aisles, chattering their teeth and sipping their drinks. The drone of conversation continued as Yo-Yo Ma’s chair and riser were brought across the stage and placed next to the conductor’s. It continued during the tuning. Then, finally, there was applause as Yo-Yo Ma walked across the stage and sat down and started to play.
A rush of raw emotion emanated from the stage. Patterns of heart-felt sensation went crossing over his face, as fluid as the notes that poured from his instrument. He would smile then quickly frown, glare for a moment before turning a knowing glance toward the conductor on his podium as cadenzas and 32nd-note triplets (perhaps even further subdivided) went up and down the strings. He alternately bowed and reclined, his movements following the phrases and rhythm. And every lithe gesture of passion was injected right into the heart of the audience.
At the conclusion of the piece, the crowd rose to its feet in an extended applause. And then Yo-Yo Ma was gone for the remainder of the evening. I’ll admit that while I had been absolutely dying to hear the introduction of a solo cello to Stravinsky’s Suite from The Firebird, his solitary performance was nonetheless the most moving of any I’ve ever heard. — Jordan Hickey
