The Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra, conducted by Klaus Mäkelä, performed at Carnegie Hall. The same as Jansons’ 2005 program with the Vienna Philharmonic, the pairing of late Schoenberg and the opening of Mahler’s Symphony No. 1 flowed seamlessly. The string ensemble was lively and focused, with an excellent concertmaster solo. In Mahler, Mäkelä’s precise and dynamic conducting brought out the richness of each section, highlighting strings, brass, and solos, culminating in a finale that felt like a hymn to humanity. Mäkelä’s repertoire choices connected present and future audiences, bringing the music to life.

Klaus returned to Carnegie Hall with the Concertgebouw. Last year’s Paris performance was too unruly to reveal him. How would he meet New York’s standards? His Rattle-like stance showed confidence. I saw early memorable performances under his direction. Opening with a contemporary work on pregnancy and childbirth, he gave a day invaluable for future audiences and composers. The future of Klaus and the Concertgebouw looks bright.

Even the audience felt like soloists. Under Kirill Petrenko, the orchestra combined energy and precision, with Vilde Flang’s violin stunning. The program included Rachmaninoff’s Isle of the Dead, Korngold’s Violin Concerto, and Dvořák’s Symphony No. 7. Individuality and freedom abounded, yet the music unified everyone. Highlights were Rachmaninoff’s intense solo, Korngold’s chamber-battle-like interplay, and Dvořák’s cello tutti. Petrenko proved he creates precise, vivid, and powerful musical experiences.

Mao performed at Carnegie on Sunday afternoon. Yashiro felt like him, and the high notes in the second half were beautiful, reminiscent of Trifonov’s first Carnegie visit. Liszt was great, but Yashiro was amazing. Mozart and Beethoven felt vivid, with Mao’s breathing and energy connecting to the music like Pollini or Brendel. The hall was relaxed; I could see every detail and hear even snoring during Appassionata. Mao looked happy throughout. His performance hinted at Chopin’s interest in Beethoven, just as Yashiro reflected Scriabin. Classical music’s power to unite different approaches was deeply appreciated in these chaotic times.

Yulian Avdeeva performed in New York, filling the hall with emotion. Since having COVID, I felt a tightness in my heart, tears streaming, yet Liszt flowed through Yulian’s hands like a dream—rich, elaborate, and story-filled. Chopin’s delicate yet bold works were rendered on an orchestral scale. Yulian’s program wove Chopin and Liszt masterfully: Dance, Barcarolle, Chopin’s homage to Beethoven, Polonaise, and Liszt’s B minor Sonata. The encore was Liszt’s arrangement of Verdi’s Rigoletto quartet. A truly wonderful Romantic experience.

Brahms’s music, with its “subtle symmetries,” blends Bach’s structure, Beethoven’s dynamism, Schubert’s lyricism, Schumann’s romanticism, and German folk influences, while reflecting the modernity of Wagner and Strauss and admiration for Baroque composers. At Carnegie Hall, the Staatskapelle Berlin under Yannick Nézet-Séguin performed all Brahms symphonies, offering a rare view of his complete vision. Combining dark sonorities with sensuous brilliance, Brahms’s works—admired even by Schoenberg—came vividly to life through virtuosic solos, choral brass, and delicate wind blends, testifying to both his humanity and the shared artistry of musicians and audience.

At András Schiff’s Carnegie Hall recital, given without a program, the atmosphere felt intimate, almost like being at home with the pianist. He spoke and played with remarkable presence, his Bach sounding spontaneous, as if the composer himself were improvising. This sense of immediacy shone in his Mendelssohn and Haydn, where he shaped each line with clarity and boldness, letting the music’s narrative emerge effortlessly and resonating with listeners of all tastes.