One of the great mysteries of orchestral music is the chemistry between
some orchestras and some conductors.  At times it defies description.
Last some summer Roberto Abbado startled a languid Philadelphia evening
with a volcanic (reportedly, I wasn't there) account of the Mahler 1st,
among other works.  He was invited back immediately.  Rattle had just
signed on with Berlin and Philadelphia was left clueless.

He returned this week with more Mahler (the mysterious 7th), and, while
I was predisposed to like his work, the results were electrifying.  He is
easily the most charismatic podium figure to walk into the Academy in the
12 years I've been attending, and leads with clear and exuberant authority
(and only using a baton for about 20 seconds in the finale when the
percussion got a bit over-exuberant).  I don't know whether this happens
elsewhere with him, but there's really something going on here among
orchestra, leader and audience.  At the end of the first movement there
was a LARGE OUTBURST of applause, but I don't think anyone felt the normal
embarassment that normally accompanies such effusions; it felt natural.
Abbado's direction felt spontaneous and incredibly alive, with a constant
sense of discovery, beginning with the surprisingly emphatic march motif
in the basses at the opening.

The audience exploded at the end in a very unphiladelphia-like manner.
Players applauded each other and conductor.  Every first chair took a
solo bow and he had every section arise individually (I'd never seen THAT
before).

I had the sense that the audience will be incensed if management lets him
get away.  At this point, at least, I think all sides are in love.  Which
is quite remarkable to see in this day.

So I politely request people in Houston, Boston and NY to keep their hands
off this guy!  %)

Robin Mitchell-Boyask
Temple University
Philadelphia PA 19122