by Kurt Gottschalk | Bachtrack

Marin Alsop came to Philly to join the city’s esteemed orchestra in marking the 50th birthday of the Highmark Mann Center for the Performing Arts in Fairmount Park with a concert of works ranging from 110 to 220 years old. She opened her concert with the Philadelphia Orchestra by playing the first piece on the program when the orchestra christened the stage in 1976, but only after introducing the performers present who were on that stage 50 years ago: violinist Davyd Booth, violist Renard Edwards and cellist Richard Harlow, who made his Philly Orchestra debut that very same night. She went on to commend Highmark Mann’s educational efforts and to tease a surprise for the evening’s Boléro.

But first came Beethoven’s Leonore Overture no. 3 (from the opera Fidelio), not one of his most celebrated works but Alsop gave it grace and grandeur, an unhurried and confident read, the cedar bandshell working wonders, providing a clean and cohesive mix, uncommon for an outdoor stage. Alsop said nothing to give away the trumpeter in the back of the large seating area (able to accommodate 4,500 and quite full on this night) calling the flock. What might have been kitschy in another setting added dimensionality in the hilltop amphitheater

For Ravel's Boléro, the snare was set at the front of stage and Principal Percussionist Christopher Deviney executed a nice, slow fade-in before the first flute joined in, introducing the mesmerizing, almost infuriating, theme that would circle for the next quarter hour. What is this maddeningly masterful music? Something heard so often, nearly ad nauseam, that manages to reinvent itself every 20 seconds, this proto-Krautrock unanswered canon that supposedly Ravel himself grew to despise, but who is he to judge? Rejecting it is akin to pronouncing that there are rules about what makes art great, like identifying types of trees rather than allowing yourself to get lost in the forest. Alsop and orchestra brought absolute care and understated passion to the performance.

Having been forewarned, we waited until the last four minutes for the promised surprise, another artful dodge in a piece that is all about anticipation. About 60 drummers from five area high schools slowly filled the aisles and proceeded toward the front, creating a dynamic crossfade that eventually all but drowned out the orchestra and effectively eclipsed the famous, late-in-game key change. It was as if Ravel’s brilliant campaign came to a fitting conclusion for the very first time.

Mars, the Bringer of War, segued wonderfully well from Ravel, even despite the interval, bringing in Host’s galactic suite The Planets with a brassy dance. Alsop was more animated now, having a whole solar system to track. The high strings sang Venus, The Bringer of Peace and the lovely, lonely Neptune, The Mystic (during which members of the Philadelphia Chorale joined the orchestra offstage) rung the full audience out into the night with style. But the 1917 Hallmark soundtrack to our romanticized characterizations of the lifeless gas and ice orbs with which we share a fairly large bit of space seems a piece that has long since served its purpose. If people still want to hear it, though, by all means it should be played as well as Alsop and the Philly did for the hall’s 50th birthday.