Orchestre National de France

Feb. 11, Myung-Whun Chung conducting in Suntory Hall -- Concerto for Violin and Orchestra in D Major, Op. 35 (Peter Ilich Tchaikovsky, 1840-93) featuring Akiko Suwanai; "Symphonie Fantastique," Op. 14a (Louis-Hector Berlioz, 1803-69)

The National Orchestra of France was the second broadcasting orchestra (after the BBC Symphony Orchestra in London) to be formed in the world, established in 1934.

The Orchestre National is a passionate defender of la musique francaise. It has often been adventurous, though, in turning for leadership to conductors of other than French nationality. Charles Munch was born in Alsace-Lorraine, then a part of Germany. Lorin Maazel is American. Charles Dutoit, who has served as music director since 1991, is Swiss. Korean-born Myung-Whun Chung, now filling the podium in the absence of the over-exposed Dutoit, is highly regarded for his tenure as music director of the Bastille Opera in Paris.

I have never asked Chung where he acquired the highly personal conducting gestique he employs to such dramatic effect. I assume that it was self-discovered; no one teaches anything like this. Presumably it came to him in the course of his explorations in the opera pit, where he crafted musical characterizations of a highly dramatic nature.

The world of opera is constantly involved, on and off stage, with human passions, intrigue, blood and guts and the juicy vices and occasional virtues of humanity. Chung doesn't care to speak of his tenure at the Bastille, and one has to assume that the experience left deep scars. They also left a deep imprint on his way with music.

Chung's work is startling vibrant and vividly characterized, and immediately exciting to the audience and to the musicians. This gives him certain expressive devices, dramatic devices, which are superior to those of many other conductors.

One might think of the dramatic Tchaikovsky violin concerto as a work which would appeal to Chung and flourish under his energetic baton. On this tour, though, he was partnered with almost too cool and polished a soloist.

Akiko Suwanai won the 1990 Tchaikovsky competition, taking not only the gold medal but also the prize for the best Bach performance. She is an artist of unassailable poise, precision and polish. She dedicates herself to perfection in her playing. It's uncanny; it's almost unhuman.

Still, it seemed not to resonate with Chung. She played the solo. He deftly deposited the requisite cues, leaving the definition of the concerto to her, remaining largely neutral in his own involvement.

Suwanai seemed to remain above it all, playing beautifully, rendering perfectly the passages of Tchaikovsky's difficult concerto. Tchaikovsky's music carries a sublimely poignant humanity which speaks to the heart, but he himself was not a perfect human being. If there is a message in this, it must be that humanity and perfection are not the same.

It is wonderful to witness the artistic growth of a great musician -- and this is what we found in the "Symphonie Fantastique." Chung was visibly transformed in the passionate, earthy drama of Berlioz's opium-induced musical fantasies. It revealed a new and deeper, more mature artistic perception.

The mood of the opening movement, "Reveries, Passions," was languishing and free, timeless, yet agitated beneath the surface. Shaping nuances, crafting architecture, honing sound, portraying character, Chung created a sense of organic ebb and flow that was no mere manipulation of the notes. There was adventure and discovery in the music. It was operatic. It was fresh.

With his underhanded softball-swing gestique exploding into the view of the players, Chung looks like no other conductor. He is a dynamo on the podium; he generates electricity from the orchestra. His gestique appears wilful; it certainly is assertive.

It is also personal and idiosyncratic. He often forwent beat patterns, rooting the dynamic gestique instead in the substance of the music. Unusual as it may appear, it is constructed on scientific principles, based on the results in the reaction of the orchestra.

It takes an amazing amount of energy to conduct the way he does. How is it that he didn't seem to become tired?

What atmosphere Chung wrung out of this music! In order to arrive at such a rich, cohesive retelling of the "episode in the life of an artist," Chung has thought long and deeply about it.

Conductors strive to develop their skills and insights in many ways. Some read about the composer's life. Some familiarize themselves with the literature and culture of the period. Some immerse themselves in the works of other composers who might have have been an influence. Some observe the work of other conductors.

Whatever it is that Chung has done, it is working.