The loudest noise possible in a concert hall was followed tonight by the
longest stretch of silence I have experienced in Davies Hall or, indeed,
anywhere.

The rare and memorable occurrence of silence after a performance always
seems long, but if you time it, you'll find it lasts between 10 and 20
seconds, even when it feels "forever."

But at this San Francisco Symphony concert, the frightening, desperate orgy
of percussion that ends Aaron Kernis' Second Symphony slowly dissolved into
silence, complete silence, which then held for a full minute.

The combination of the music's impact, lack of audience experience with
the 10-year-old work in its local premiere, and Donald Runnicles' arms held
high above his head brought about this wondrous silence that spoke louder
than the music it greeted.

Runnicles, I am certain, would give an eyetooth if he could command
audience behavior similarly next door, where he is music director of the
San Francisco Opera.  Were he not half hidden there in the pit, he would
go for the 60-second silent salute every time the heaven-and-earth-storming
Prologue and Epilogue to Boito's "Mefistofele" shake the rafters, when the
Rhine overflows Walhalla, when Electra gets her revenge.

You can take Runnicles out of the Opera, but you can't take opera out
of the man.  He is doing more and more symphonic work (in Atlanta, New
York and elsewhere), but his heart belongs to dramma per musica - large
gestures, great contrasts, lyrical passages in-between strong, big waves
of music.  That describes not only the Brahms Violin Concerto (with Julian
Rachlin) on the second part of the program, but even more so the brave
combination of the Kernis and Britten's "Sinfonia da Requiem" in the
beginning.

These two contemporary works share a surprising number of similarities:
the theme is war and death (for Britten, the coming world war and the death
of his parents; for Kernis, the Vietnam War), the sound is huge (from the
Mahlerian hammer blows that open the Britten to that deafening Kernis
finale), and the tempo - mostly - is breathless, breakneck, headlong into
grief and unresolved pain.

And that's exactly where Runnicles excels - just as he keeps opera,
especially Wagner, moving forward, in relentless, unaffected motion, he
was brilliant tonight as well.  The Prokofiev/Shostakovich-influenced "Dies
Irae" of the Britten and the stormy "Alarm" and "Barricade" movements in
the Kernis had perfect tempi, along with flawless balance.  Most of them
wearing earplugs, the orchestra musicians played their hearts out.  Brass
and woodwinds have never been better, the strings - all of them - right up
there too.

The middle movement of the Kernis symphony, called "Air/Ground," also
reminded the listener to Runnicles' operatic roots.  This wonderful piece
of music ranges from Wagner to Puccini, from martial drama to lyrical
singing, and the conductor had it all under control and yet setting it
free.  (Runnicles is not particularly known for his Puccini, but local
audiences still treasure the "Madama Butterfly" he led in the War Memorial
early in his residence here.)

The program will be repeated through Saturday, and it will be broadcast on
KDFC-FM at 8 p.m.  on March 18.

With Runnicles a welcome visitor in Davies for the third time, why does it
take forever for the Symphony's Michael Tilson Thomas to cross Grove Street
to the War Memorial.  It's not as if MTT had no interest in music theater.

Janos Gereben/SF
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