THE BOSTON GLOBE
July 22, 2002

CONDUCTOR MASUR GOES OUT IN STYLE AT TANGLEWOOD
by Richard Dyer

The New York Philharmonic was the first major orchestra to play in the Berkshires back in 1935, but after two seasons, it didn't return, opening the door to Serge Koussevitzky, the Boston Symphony Orchestra, and history.

In the years since, the Philharmonic has been an occasional visitor to Tanglewood, and it returned over the weekend for two concerts that marked the final appearances of Kurt Masur as music director. Until his New York appointment 11 years ago, Masur was a favorite BSO guest conductor; now that he is free to return to Boston, he will, next April. Saturday night's concert featured two Philharmonic musicians as soloists, concertmaster Glenn Dicterow and principal cellist Carter Brey. Under Masur, they and the orchestra offered a supple and genial performance of the Brahms Double Concerto that lacked the muscularity, humor, and energy toward which the program note directed our attention.

Mahler's First Symphony was another story. Masur's understanding of the elements of song, dance, and march in this music, as well as their folk and popular character, was remarkable, and so was his mastery of transition. Often the disparate aspects of this symphony are like bumper cars, with lots of crashes, dents, and whiplash; Masur's approach was kaleidoscopic, organic, and convincing. Everything was unusually light and transparent. There was one climax per movement and one all-fulfilling climax for the entire symphony instead of a series of explosions. And the balanced and disciplined orchestra was simply unrecognizeable as the demoralized group that could play so shoddily under former music director Zubin Mehta.

Yesterday afternoon, 14,447 people showed up for Masur's farewell concert, about 134 more than attended Seiji Ozawa's farewell a week ago. Masur offered an all-Beethoven program, recalling a triumphant "Beethoven weekend" at Tanglewood more than 20 years ago. The performance of Beethoven's "Emperor" Concerto seemed a little generic because pianist Yefim Bronfman was keeping whatever personal feelings he may have held about this music to himself. But he did deliver a large tone with stamina, aplomb, and accuracy, intermittently mastering a tendency to rush.

The Philharmonic delivered a great "Eroica" Symphony for Masur afterward, combining an authentic Central European sound with American precision. Masur understands pulse and how rhythm defines character; he knows the importance of the bass line. And because he knows how to build and recede, the Funeral March was overwhelming. The applause was fervent. Masur acknowledged the orchestra, its sections, and its soloists; he even passed around kissing people as if he were Mstislav Rostropovich. The orchestra acknowledged him by refusing to rise at his signal and joining the audience in applause, and the ovation ended only when Masur yanked Dicterow out of his chair and led the orchestra off with him.