Mahler’s Symphony No. 4 with Lahav Shani

The Season Opening Concert on October 8 will be held in the presence of th Mayor of Tel Aviv-Yafo, Mr. Ron Huldai

Symphonic Romanticism is not merely a matter of the size of an orchestra or the scale of its sound; it is about the magnitude of an idea, of an essence. The opening concert of our 90th season reflects this understanding through three Romantic works, each shaped by a different landscape, personal memories, and distinct roots – yet all insist on the same truth: great music always begins with a small kernel of truth.

Bardanashvili: Concerto for Orchestra
World Premiere marking the opening of the 90th season

Great symphonic music is still being written today – and here, in our own country. The premiere of Josef Bardanashvili’s Concerto for Orchestra at the opening of the season symbolizes our commitment to placing contemporary Israeli music at the heart of the repertoire. Bardanashvili explains that choosing the form of a “concerto for orchestra” allows him to highlight the distinctive character of each instrumental section, showcasing its virtuosity while at the same time realizing the immense artistic potential of the orchestra as a whole.

The work consists of three large-scale movements that come together to form a single, continuous symphonic arc. The first movement – a fiery and powerful Allegro – is based on the principle of Perpetuum Mobile (“perpetual motion”). It is driven by an unrelenting flow of dramatic, forceful, and propulsive energy that carries the entire work forward.

The second movement, Grave, is the longest and most expansive of the three and is divided into three independent episodes. Each echoes the same inner drama and emotional tension experienced by the country’s citizens in recent times. This is music of reflection, memory, and soul-searching – a human response to a complex and turbulent reality.

The finale represents a renewed and intensified return to the energy of the first movement. Here, a powerful energy prevails, built on simple rhythmic patterns whose propulsive force is impossible to resist.

The work was commissioned as part of the open call for new works by Israeli composers, with funding from the Ministry of Culture and Sport

Sibelius: Violin Concerto

Sibelius’s Violin Concerto is regarded as one of the great pinnacles of the Romantic violin repertoire, yet its Romanticism is of a somewhat different kind – restrained, fragile, and sophisticated. Sibelius dreamed of becoming a violinist; he even auditioned for the Vienna Philharmonic but was unsuccessful. It is therefore easy to understand why the Violin Concerto was so close to his heart, and one might also imagine that it embodied for him a complex blend of emotions: love and intense longing alongside disappointment, missed opportunity, and perhaps even a sense of failure.

What is certain is that this is a deeply personal concerto, and as such it stands apart within the landscape of the European Romantic concerto. The violin’s entrance at the beginning of the work is almost secretive: no fanfare, no proclamation, but rather a muted sound floating above the quiet trembling of the strings, as though the music had begun long ago and we are only now becoming aware of its existence.

That feeling persists throughout the concerto. There are no grand declarations, no triumphs; instead, there is a compelling and exposed inner narrative, one that seems to have begun before the listener entered the picture and will continue long after the listener has left it.

Following the concerto’s less-than-successful premiere, Sibelius continued to revise the work and guarded it jealously. He was highly selective about its performances, entrusting it, like a precious gift, only to violinists he particularly admired. Like many works that endured difficult beginnings, the concerto ultimately became one of the most beloved and frequently performed works for violin, and a cornerstone of today’s symphonic repertoire.

Mahler: Symphony No. 4

The Romanticism of Mahler’s Fourth Symphony also speaks in a different voice. After three enormous and imposing symphonies that were said to “make a great deal of noise,” Mahler surprised audiences with a far more modest symphony, almost childlike in its simplicity. Mahler was well aware of this, even writing to a friend that this time “there aren’t even any trombones.”

The first three movements gradually build toward the distinctive final movement, in which a soprano joins the orchestra and, in a childlike voice, tells the story of “The Heavenly Life” – a naive vision of life in paradise.

Mahler had composed this song years earlier as part of his settings of German folk poetry, and fragments of its melody can already be heard in the symphony’s preceding movements.