David Patrick Stearns   

Tempesta di Mare’s 10th anniversary concert so easily could have sunk into the wrong kind of cuteness: Every piece on Saturday’s program, titled “OPUS 10: Orchestra,” had some connection with the number 10. And what obscure choices that might have led to! Instead, the concert at the Arch Street Friends Meeting House managed to mix mainstream baroque works by Vivaldi et al. with discoveries of momentary interest, such as John Stanley’s Harpsichord Concerto (Op. 10, No. 10), and ones you want to revisit often, such as Jean-Marie Leclair’s little-known Violin Concerto (Op. 10, No. 5), which was arguably the most substantial piece on the program.

In its East Coast premiere, Daniel Catán’s operatic version of the film Il Postino is infinitely more engaging than one could ever have predicted from an opera that has little exterior action, characters that aren’t especially heroic, and music that hasn’t a fraction of the usual tension of the opera’s 20th-century predecessors. You aren’t likely to walk away from the Center City Opera Theater production, which opened Thursday at the Prince Music Theater, thinking you’ve seen a masterpiece. But the experience — with beautiful music and scenes set by computer-animated projections suggesting the Italian island setting — is like a mini-vacation to a mellow place that might not be a viable residence but makes for a haunting visit. When he died last year at 62, Catán was beloved but rarely heard in many of the usual U.S. opera centers. Part of the new tonality school of composers, he went a step further: He could create drama without dissonance, sometimes by taking his fundamentally lush harmonic language and pushing it beyond the ordinary bounds in order to give his stories their needed dramatic contour. Il Postino’s plot was right for his ability to make the most common inner transformations, like falling in love, feel important. But he wasn’t one to pretend that the last 50 years of music hadn’t happened. His harmonic modulations go to all sorts of unexpected places. Often, the music’s soul lies in the writing for winds.

The title Vermilion Vespers was an immediate tipoff that whatever the religious functions of a vespers service, this one would be anything but sanctimonious. Even so, the freewheeling, evening-length work that unfolded from the Haverford-based composer Curt Cacioppo — and opened the Crossing choir’s “Month of Moderns” festival Saturday at Presbyterian Church of Chestnut Hill — was more like a musical funhouse in which arresting effects were cheek-by-jowl with less-than-stunning miscalculations. Though Cacioppo was born in Ravenna, Ohio (not to be confused with Riccardo Muti’s home in Italy), this 15-movement Sequence of Vermilion Vespers: Cantata of the Angels is the work of an Italophile merrily helping himself to a thousand years’ worth of music, Mediterranean and otherwise, from Gregorian chant to pop-tinged echoes of modern Italian film scores that, the composer says in his program notes, he’d love to write.

Like several previous Philadelphia Orchestra conductors, Charles Dutoit appears to be leaving a bit wounded. Dutoit, who is 75, this week concludes a four-year appointment that encompassed the most troubled period of the institution’s history.

Though the program had its oddities and performances could be tentative, Christian Gerhaher left no doubt Thursday at his Philadelphia debut recital that he possesses a Stradivarius among voices and is one of the most cultivated singers in the new generation of German art-song interpreters. You could have guessed that by the Andras Schiff stamp of approval: The in-demand pianist only occasionally accompanies singers, but there he was, playing a secondary role to this Bavaria-born baritone, so little known in the United States. Having studied under the twin pillars of the old guard, Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau and Elisabeth Schwarzkopf, Gerhaher has found his own artistic way, one that (unlike Schwarzkopf’s) neglects visual presentation and doesn’t really depict the characters within the songs. In his many excellent recordings over the last 12 years, Gerhaher is his own protagonist, going past external matters and straight to the heart of any given song’s emotional state with conversational word projection. Even without niceties of stage deportment, his communication is extremely direct.

Andras Schiff played the recital of his life on Tuesday, and in light of the lofty standard established by this 58-year-old pianist, that’s saying a lot. But the 2½-hour recital of miniature works — the first half had 74 movements or pieces played without pause — was a lot to take in. Comfortable enjoyment wasn’t in the game plan. While Schiff has long charmed his public with his teddy-bear presence and poetic, soft-spoken concerts of Bach, his Tuesday recital, presented by the Philadelphia Chamber Music Society at the Perelman Theater, interspersed Bach inventions among more assaultive peasant dances by Bartok and the brand-new Circus Dances by the contemporary Austrian composer Jorg Widmann. The second half featured Bagatelles, showing Beethoven at his most obscure, as well as four new Gyorgy Kurtag pieces and Bartok’s Out of Doors. .

Though only nine minutes away from Philadelphia by train, Symphony in C’s Rutgers-Camden home is truly in another state, which is why the prospect of hearing Gyorgy Ligeti’s Violin Concerto on Saturday at the Gordon Theater felt vaguely perilous. This post-conservatory orchestra and its soloist Augustin Hadelich could be counted on to meet the music’s considerable demands. But what about the suburban audience? The outset was not promising: After a new orchestra piece by Roger Zare titled Green Flash (winner of the orchestra’s annual Young Composers Competition), the audience seemed in no mood to be shoved out of its comfort zone. Green Flash (whose title refers to an atmospheric condition at sunset) was not at fault. It’s a thoroughly accomplished piece that begins with references to Wagner’s Das Rheingold and any number of symphonies by Martinu before moving into its own dreamy orchestral world reminiscent of Kaija Saariaho’s orchestral textures. Though contemplative, the piece never feels static and has its own stealthy narrative. I’d love to hear it again.

When Wolfgang Sawallisch was winding up his Philadelphia Orchestra tenure, some of his concert programs became curiously modest. Remember Richard Strauss’ 45-minute wind band piece, The Happy Workshop? In contrast, Charles Dutoit is veering toward the gargantuan in his last three subscription concerts as chief conductor. His Strauss choice is the opera Elektra later this week. And on Friday, he poured on waves of sound in Scriabin’s unapologetically extravagant Poem of Ecstasy with the Verizon Hall organ powering the climaxes from within. The biggest point of interest was four excerpts from Debussy’s Martyrdom of St. Sebastien, starting with the kind of 10-note whole-tone scale that only this composer could infuse with so many poetic implications. Is each note an arrow piercing his martyred body, as suggested by centuries of semierotic iconography? Or is the scale a portal into the rarefied consciousness of saints? The piece has long been controversial: Quickly composed and not entirely orchestrated by the composer, the music may sound thin to some ears, but eloquently spare to mine. Every note counts and can now be heard as a harbinger of the metrically impulsive music of Olivier Messiaen.

So the Metropolitan Opera didn’t produce the universally acclaimed Ring cycle that the Wagner community was hoping for. But a great behind-the-scenes documentary film about its creation, titled Wagner’s Dream, is being simulcast at 6:30 p.m. Monday in six Philadelphia-area movie theaters.

Most Renaissance-era choral recordings are sold with ancient saints on the cover. Instead, New York Polyphony presents itself on its new disc, endBeginning, with a photo of a demolished church interior. The aftermath of an earthquake? One of New York Polyphony’s concerts? This urban, four-voice, all-male group isn’t out to wreck anything. But its concert Monday night at Friends’ Central School in Wynnewood isn’t likely to be ethereal by the usual early-music standards, either, even with a program of 16th-century Renaissance masters such as Antoine Brumel and Francisco Guerrero. The second half, in particular, features music Henry Purcell might have written, as one member put it, “on a barroom napkin.”