United States Adams, Barber, Mahler: Augustin Hadelich (violin), Joélle Harvey (soprano), Philadelphia Orchestra / Dalia Stasevska (conductor). Marian Anderson Hall, Philadelphia, 11.1.2026 (ES-S)
John Adams – Short Ride in a Fast Machine
Barber – Violin Concerto, Op.14
Mahler – Symphony No.4 in G major
Speed, lyricism and innocence formed an unlikely but persuasive through-line in a program that brought together John Adams, Samuel Barber and Gustav Mahler under the direction of Dalia Stasevska. Moving backward across nearly a century of orchestral writing, the evening avoided the sense of stylistic miscellany that such juxtapositions often invite. Instead, it traced a progression from externalized motion through inward lyric reflection toward a qualified idea of innocence.
Short Ride in a Fast Machine remains one of the most effective openers in the contemporary repertory, not because of its novelty or brevity but because of the precision of its assemblage – the exact calibration of pulse, attack and orchestral balance. The piece, a clear example of the composer’s mature style, draws on repetitive patterns energized by vivid orchestration, and it is built around an unyielding woodblock pulse that functions as a regulating mechanism, driving the orchestra forward in a state of perpetual alertness. Dalia Stasevska resisted the temptation to exaggerate the work’s brilliance into spectacle. Tempos were firmly controlled, allowing orchestral colors to register with clarity. The result was something taut and slightly unforgiving: propulsion without destination, exhilaration edged with anxiety. In this reading, Short Ride felt less like a celebratory fanfare than a concise study in kinetic pressure.
The sense of motion found a clear echo in the final movement of Barber’s Violin Concerto, where Augustin Hadelich shaped the Presto in moto perpetuo with incisive clarity. That same kinetic impulse extended into the American folk–tinged encore: the violinist’s own adaptation of Erwin Rouse’s ‘Orange Blossom Special’. Too often treated as a mere display of virtuosity, the last movement emerged here as a structural necessity for the concerto’s overall argument. Stripped of sentimental commentary, its ceaseless motion acted less as a culmination than as a release valve through which accumulated tension was redirected into forward drive, serving as the performance’s catharsis.
Compared to the ending, the concerto’s first two movements took on a markedly different character. Barber’s concerto is often described in terms of Romantic warmth, but what stood out here was the exposure of its lyric impulse. The solo violin enters immediately, without orchestral preface, and Hadelich shaped that opening line with an unaffected directness that avoided indulgence. His limpid tone allowed the long phrases of the first movement to unfold with an air of inevitability. Stasevska supported this restraint, keeping the orchestral fabric light and flexible so that lyricism could come into focus.
Philippe Tondre’s extended solo oboe at the beginning of the Andante set the stage for one of the performance’s most inward moments. When the violin entered, Hadelich let the melody hover rather than bloom. The orchestra followed suit, colors thinning and darkening in a series of delicate shadings. Barber’s gift for melody was unmistakable, with the music’s introspective character emerging not as an outpouring but as something carefully held in check.
Played after the interval, Mahler’s Symphony No.4 is frequently described as his most Classical or lighthearted symphony, labels that can obscure its underlying uncertainties. Stasevska’s reading – honest and attentive to the score’s intricate indications – did not offer any novel interpretive cues but consistently left Mahler’s ambiguities unresolved. In the long opening movement, seemingly relaxed tempos and transparent textures were repeatedly offset by abrupt harmonic shadows and sudden shifts in emphasis. Pastoral elements appeared intermittently but never settled into sustained presence.
In the Ruhevoll third movement, the promise of warmth and repose was never fully realized. Each return of the theme might have suggested arrival, yet each was subtly altered, redirected or delayed. Climaxes rose, glowing briefly, and then receded, leaving behind not fulfillment but a heightened awareness of suspension. The idea of peace was repeatedly suggested, only to be quietly withdrawn.
At the same time, certain aspects of the complex universe Mahler constructs beneath the apparent simplicity of the musical discourse were left insufficiently articulated. In the second movement, the scordatura violin, played by concertmaster David Kim, is meant to infuse unease into the music’s dance character. The altered tuning does not assert itself through volume or virtuosity but through its refusal to blend fully with the surrounding orchestral sound – an aspect of the score that, here, remained too understated to fully register. A comparatively strict pacing in ‘Das himmlische Leben’ likewise diminished some of the glow of the finale’s fragile innocence. Joélle Harvey’s soprano sounded slightly strained at the outset, though her voice gradually opened up, gaining clarity and ease in the upper register. The result was a vision of paradise that felt consciously fashioned, a child’s song shaped by adult awareness.
Edward Sava-Segal