THE BOSTON GLOBE
April 18, 2003

Masur, Gubaidulina add light to the BSO
by Richard Dyer

Many sources flow into the music of Sofia Gubaidulina. Because the most important of them are her inner life and her extraordinarily precise and individual ear, her work sounds like nothing else in the world, which is the reason it is so valuable.

Last night Kurt Masur and the Boston Symphony Orchestra gave the world premiere of Gubaidulina's "The Light of the End." The title continues to say, "For large orchestra;" she uses extra players not for volume but for gradations of color. Even a large orchestra is a chamber-music ensemble.

One unusual aspect of the piece is her decision to contrast the natural harmonic series, parts of which sound out of tune to modern ears, to the tempered scale that came into widespread use with the development of keyboard instruments.

For much of "The Light of the End," she uses these two tuning systems simultaneously; they set up a kind of interference that becomes part of the drama of the piece and the reconciliation of the two represents its resolution.

The opening alternates two kinds of music that create a kind of landscape, although the composer stoutly resists any programmatic or allegorical intent. Fast music sweeping through the strings sounds like the wind; other instruments, playing melody and harmony distantly reminiscent of a chorale, suggest that the wind is blowing through the bare quires of a ruined abbey.

The central sections are the harshest, full of unease, and they suggest an age of anxiety. But then the tuba sounds long, sustained notes at the bottom of its register, and on this foundation the world rebuilds itself along more solid and spiritual lines, and the music glistens in the light.

Kurt Masur presided over a continuously absorbing if not quite entirely settled performance; this music poses immense challenges to the players, even if it makes an immediate and overwhelming impact on the listener. After a long silence that followed the music's close, the audience burst into applause and Masur hoisted the score aloft before Gubaidulina came onstage to a standing ovation.

From 1980 to 1988 Masur was a regular and popular guest conductor at the BSO; subsequently, during his 11 years as music director of the New York Philharmonic, he wasn't able to come.

The affectionate greetings he received all evening were an indication of how much he has been missed, and his far-flung arms and huge smile suggested that he's happy to be back.

He opened the program with Prokofiev's "Classical Symphony." In the light-fingered passages Masur and the BSO came close to matching the unsurpassable recording the orchestra made of this piece more than 70 years ago; then some heaviness would intrude.

Tchaikovsky's "Pathetique" Symphony was a demonstration of Masur's famous gift for making even the most familiar repertory sound fresh again. The first movement was slow enough for everyone to shape and color the music; the famous third-movement march was almost deliriously fast. The reach of Masur's arms was almost long enough to present applause before the final slow lament, which he attacked immediately, summoning playing that was tragic, passionate and noble. This was a performance that went to extremes but that never lost coherence.