In Life, in Death...the Concertgebouw abide with us at the Barbican

Saturday 5th November 2022

Rick van Veldhuizen: mais le corps taché d’ombre, (UK Premiere)
Gustav Mahler: Symphony No.9

Concertgebouw Orchestra
Conductor: Daniel Harding

Through Cloud and Sunshine: Daniel Harding at the helm of the Concertgebouw
Photo Credit: Mark Allan/Barbican

Once regular visitors to the Barbican, Amsterdam's Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra have not been seen in the City of London for six years. Coupled with their status as being undoubtedly the most high-profile international band to appear in the capital until the next Proms season at least, a palpable excitement was evident in the Barbican foyer. 

Daniel Harding was here to take the reins for a performance of Mahler's 9th Symphony. A farewell to life, a celebration of its beauty. However, opening the show was a new Concertgebouw-commissioned work, specially composed to accompany the orchestra's performances of Mahler 9 while on tour.  Veldhuizen's short piece, titled mais le corps taché d’ombre ('but the body stained with shadows'), with its electronic tones and disconcerting white noise, felt jagged and uneven, deliberately so, but if one was truly looking for the all-encompassing weight, tears, and bitterness of Mahler, there was nothing like Mahler itself. 

Harding showed all the same characteristics as in his jump-in Bruckner Prom with the Berlin Philharmonic earlier this year, those of sensitivity, balance, and utmost clarity, allowing the orchestra's sound to take precedence. Harding is very familiar with the Barbican, having been Principal Guest Conductor of the hall's resident London Symphony Orchestra for a decade until 2017, and his knowledge of the acoustics served the performance well, embracing us on the journey of Mahler's final completed symphony.

Grotesque beauty loomed large in the central movements. Harding pushed for more, revelling in dissonance as he presented a rustic playfulness in an almost satirical Länder movement which was judged with wit and rough humour, raising a smile with many in the audience to provide a brief moment of almost-levity. Not wishing to leave us with such an impression, Mahler fights a warring third movement Rondo Burleske, with soaring brass, stunningly precise and cutting, willing us, pushing us onward, against the grain of the final. Yet it was the Concertgebouw strings that left us all breathless in their contrasting full, rich sound. These anxious joys and glories were always a frantic fervour against oncoming death and decay.

Every movement of Mahler 9 is a journey in itself, yet the overall map is one of a building in intensity, where each movement grows more dramatic than the last, giving and taking hope, until a last resignation holds the closing of our eyes. Harding held us back until the fourth, perhaps at the expense of the work's overall effectiveness as a life's journey, yet when the panic, the determination, grit and difficulty of the symphony gave way to the ebbing away of life's little day, a pregnant pause, a collective holding of breath, indicated that this was indeed a performance to remember.

In that silence that hung in the hall following the last valedictory notes of the symphony, there are few appropriate words in the triumphal still. On extraordinary nights like these, the only ones that do any justice at all are those scribbled by Gustav Mahler himself on the closing pages of his manuscript to his Ninth Symphony:

O Beauty! 

Love!

World

Fare well

"Give up women! Are you mad?" A Restless Don Giovanni at the Royal Opera House

"But words are things, and a small drop of ink,
Falling like dew, upon a thought, produces
That which makes thousands, perhaps millions, think ;
'Tis strange, the shortest letter which man uses
Instead of speech, may form a lasting ink
Of ages ; to what straits old Time reduces
Frail man, when paper - even a rag like this,
Survives himself, his tomb, and all that's his."

Byron, Don Juan, Canto III, Stanza 88

We are the stories we tell ourselves. At least Kasper Holten, director of the Royal Opera House's current production of Mozart's Don Giovanni, enjoying its fifth revival at Covent Garden since its premiere in 2014, thinks so. Front and centre in Holten's interpretation of this story is the act of the Don Juan story itself. Es Devlin's set designs support this effectively, with stairs and doors which lead nowhere trapping the characters into being mere facets of Don Giovanni's mind, a method by which our philandering villain (or hero?) also traps himself, in a kind of three-dimensional realisation of M. C. Escher's Relativity. Coupled with Anja Vang Kragh's gorgeous costumes, where the characters stained by Giovanni's exploits have their clothes literally stained by the same ink through which their names enter Giovanni's list of women, Holten presents a comprehensive and thoughtful approach to Mozart's masterpiece. 

After conducting this production in July 2021, Constantin Trinks was back in the pit for this short run of six planned performances, made even shorter by the cancellation of two, following the Queen's passing on the day Don Giovanni was meant to open, and the state funeral on 19 September. The quiet reflection which held the house during the minute's silence did not last, however, as Trinks launched into an explosive overture. Little Mozartian delicacy was on display throughout the musical performance, with even Trinks' pianoforte accompaniments to recitatives bearing the big-boned spirit of an overture that grabbed and plunged us into the devilish realm of Don Giovanni.

Covent Garden rarely fails to deliver excellent casting, even for long-serving revived productions, and by and large, this was no exception. Luca Micheletti, here making his Covent Garden debut, certainly had stage presence as the philandering nobleman, acting with comedy and wit, as well as being utterly convincing in his descent to the underworld. He was certainly persuasive in his boisterously macho acting, yet his voice was sadly often clouded by an overbearing orchestra in many of Mozart's most brilliant arias. 

Christopher Maltman as Leoprello balanced the wit and pathos of Giovanni's long-suffering servant, stealing each scene to much laughter. Christina Gansch was light and clear as a delightful Zerlina, though one perhaps a little underpowered, pushing some notes ahead at times, before allowing them to take their full tone. Her on-stage husband, the comically thick Masetto, sung by Thomas Faulkener, also enjoyed a good performance. However, the most memorable performances came from the two sublime countesses: Paula Murrihy shone as Donna Elvira, and Maria Bengtsson was commanding as Donna Anna, a performance matched by an impressively memorable, given his relatively small role, Charles Castronovo as Don Ottavio. 

Holten has Adam Palka's authoritative Commendatore stay on stage, becoming one of the 'ghosts of conquests past' that haunt Don Giovanni throughout with his stage presence, stained into the narrative, and trapped within Don Giovanni's own mind-palace with him. The master of his mind-palace, until all comes crashing down, Don Giovanni sneaks through back passages, secret entrances and exits until he finally is lost for space to run, as doors are slammed shut, and he descends into his own particular version of hell, where not a last 'rag of paper' survives to record his deeds. His 'achievements', the scrawled names of his 'conquests', are erased and disappear with him. 

Of course, the tale of Don Juan has been told by practically everyone, from Mozart to Byron, from Strauss to Molière, and even (brace yourself) an obnoxiously 90s Johnny Depp so one wonders how realistic Holten's interpretation of Giovanni's punishment is. Indeed, Holten cuts the final sextet; one wonders whether he could have had something interesting to say of Mozart's rather anticlimactic 'moral of the story, let's get on with our lives' finale. Indeed, how can they move on, forever stained by the Don Juan story? Has Giovanni's descent to hell really changed anything at all? It is perhaps small missed opportunities like this which lead to a sense of the incompleteness of the production. Holten appears to have arrived at these questions, but hesitates to ask them, leaving the audience to fill in the most interesting interpretative possibilities of this production.

Stormy Schnittke, Brilliant Brucker: Daniel Harding steps in at the Proms

Feisty: Harding and Zimmermann in Schnittke's Viola Concerto
Photo credit: BBC

For this year's last concert of the traditional bumper final weekend of the Proms season, the Berlin Philharmonic were due to give a concert of Schnittke's Viola Concerto and Shostakovich's 10th under  Kirill Petrenko. However the Berliners' chief, having given a spellbinding performance of Mahler's 7th the day before (see review here), was on doctors' orders to rest his injured foot, and so handed the baton to the world's only conductor/airline pilot, Daniel Harding.

The first half was unchanged: Alfred Schnittke's Viola Concerto with soloist Tabea Zimmermann. Schnittke's is a fascinating work, and at its first outing at the Proms under a soloist other than the work's dedicatee, Yuri Bashmet, it proved a piece rich in energy, yet darkly pensive; the composer completed it during failing health, perhaps reflected in the vicious repetetive rhythms of the last movement, before all falls away. 

Deafening Eternal Silence. Alfred Schnittke's Gravestone.
Credit: de:Benutzer:Wwwrathert - https://de.wikipedia.org/wiki/Datei:Schnittke-Grab_2.jpg, CC BY-SA 3.0

The viola may be an unlikely solo instrument, but Schnittke places it front and centre, even replacing orchestral violins with their alto clef cousins. In the extended solo passages, Zimmermann's tone was extraordinary, full of warmth and rich vibrato, yet possessing a depth and doubt that suited the work. The work suited the venue too: as the sound of Zimmermann's viola embraced the hall, it was difficult to believe with her double stopping it was just her playing, with an orchestra featuring a harpsichord and celeste, passages seemed to contain spellbinding otherworldly sounds, before anchoring us with earthly vigour and passion. In the dying final bars, a breathless and captivated Albert Hall was held in silence paused before the well-deserved cheering of the Prommers.

Harding replaced Shostakovich with Bruckner, a substitution which no-one after having heard the performance could have complained about. The famous opening horn solo, soaring above a shimmering bed of barely audible violin tremolos (and, in the Albert Hall, completely inaudible), was played with nigh-perfection by principal Stefan Dohr, promising a magical performance. 

By holding back the easily overblown brass chorales, Harding shone a light on Bruckner's intricate writing for the woodwind, making it easy to feel as if we were hearing chamber music in a mesmerising second movement. This was very much Bruckner with a light touch: the more delicate and precise Harding was, the greater and more compelling became the expertly crafted main brass themes, with the Berliner brass section, far from dragging the orchestra down, finding space to soar and lift.

For the Bruckner nerds, Harding opted for the second version of the symphony from 1881, conducting from the score recently edited by Benjamin Korstvedt in 2019. A 'controversial' edition, at least according to the programme notes, which refused to be drawn on a reason for this, but there could have been nothing controversial about this performance. Harding's conducting was marked by its restraint, handing freedom for the orchestra to express itself; the stops and starts of Bruckner's music became flowing, coherent ebbs and waves. Harding's approach was expertly judged; crescendos grew naturally, never forced or hurried, as Harding successfully shied away from the grand in favour of the sublime.

And now...the Day! Petrenko's mastery on display at the BBC Proms

The Master
Photo credit: BBC

Apparently, Kirill Petrenko had injured his foot, forcing him to pull out of the following day's performance of Schnittke and Shostakovich (Daniel Harding took over, replacing the symphony with Bruckner's Fourth, see review here). It seemed, however, that nobody had informed Petrenko of his own injury, and he conducted with his trademark precision and energy; to watch him at work with the Berlin Philharmonic was as electrifying as the music he crafted. 

Petrenko, now beginning his fourth season at the helm of the Philharmoniker, has already made this most difficult of symphonies a bit of a personal showpiece, after a memorable 2018 performance with his old band, the Bavarian State Orchestra, at the Barbican, and a much-praised record release of the Munich performance with the same orchestra. However, this Prom proved about as far removed from a routine performance as possible, as all were in for an exhilarating journey through Mahlerian fantasy-land. It was clear that Petrenko found a way through what many find to be Mahler's most problematic symphony. The Seventh appears to resist labels, floating between the sinister night and triumphant day, mixing between the two dichotomies. Petrenko was able to control this effortlessly, bringing coherence to Mahler's restless world, yet delighting in its unevenness. 

The first movement, with tense undercurrents of anxiety, almost consuming all before a determined brass march beats it away, set up the drama of the whole symphony. Petrenko emphasised every detail, drawing an incredible atmosphere from his players. It is completely true that the title of the finest orchestra in the world may be a reductive and oversimplified argument, but on nights like this, one couldn't help but be bowled over by the technical marvels and brilliance of the Berliners. Golden melodic lines in perfect unison at the very top register of the violins, drama and precision from a nigh-faultless brass section, and woodwind soloists that played to the Albert Hall as if it were a chamber venue, so compelling was their music-making.

The Nachtmusik movements were performed with a fitting grotesque beauty, never lingering, but dancing flittingly across the musical soundscape: from eerie offstage bells to dialogues between the winds and string soloists, devilish bursts of the brass contrasting the melodic mandolin and guitar, Petrenko remained in control as the master of sinister revels throughout. 

It was Mahler himself who, rehearsing for the premiere of his symphony, shouted over the orchestra: "and now comes the day!" as the curtains are flung open to the finale, letting the light stream in with a flurry of brass fanfares that soar above the orchestra. Here, Petrenko was unapologetic in his jubilation, driving his forces on, led by a fearless brass section, into a kaleidoscope of sounds and colours, allowing the night to return only for it to be comprehensively rejected in exuberant C Major. The musical references to the finale of Wagner's Meistersinger are often highlighted, and indeed with reason, for among the lurchings of tempo, of seeming uneven chaos and disorder, Mahler paints a picture of darkness to light, embracing all humanity in triumph. With Petrenko bearing the lantern, there was little ambiguity about the chaos, transforming it into a joyful celebration of the day, with clarity and conviction despite all frenzy. A real season highlight.

Intriguing Walker, Rushed Beethoven by the Chineke! Orchestra

Pace and Precision by Kevin John Edusei
Photo credit: BBC

Urban myth holds that the reason why the CD can play 74 minutes of music is in order for it to hold the full length of Wilhelm Furtwängler's legendary 1951 Bayreuth recording of Beethoven's 9th: 74 glorious minutes. Had Kevin John Edusei been around in the 1980s, perhaps we could have shaved a whole centimetre off the 12cm disc with this performance that came in at a sprightly 61 minutes, even with the second movement repeat, indeed possibly dipping beneath the hour by sparing the pauses between movements. The Chineke! did not hang about.

Unfortunately, it was often this speed which seemed to cause issues in the performance. Despite the best efforts of timpanist Jauvon Gilliam, whose rumbles and cracks were delivered with thunderous vigour above the orchestra, the first movement lacked drama, opting instead for a clear and crystalline directness which produced results that were certainly neat, and, to the credit to the playing of the Chineke!, they were effortlessly so. 

This was Beethoven efficient and rational. These were bywords of the first three movements as Edusei prioritised a driving tempo, often feeling as if there was little room for the orchestra, particularly the woodwind soloists in the third movement Adagio to grow under Edusei's often too inflexible baton. 

However bloodless the first three movements were, any sense of disfigured looseness was blown away by the entry of Ryan Speedo Green's booming bass voice, filling the Hall and energising both audience and orchestra into what could only be described as an inspired finale. Nicht diese Töne indeed! It was here where the vigour and energy that all hoped for erupted.

Freude! 200 singers energise the Ninth
Photo credit: BBC

The Chineke! Voices were on fine form, singing from memory. Being trained well by the eminent Simon Halsey, their diction was precise and fresh, and the ensemble thrilled in how unified they were in the sudden drops of volume and eruptions of freude. 

Here, we finally saw the inspiring message of Beethoven: the empowering nature of an ethnically diverse orchestra speaking his message to many who have been poorly represented in classical music, composers and musicians alike. Indeed, is so much of the work that the Chineke! have done since their founding in 2015 that we have to thank for the recent 'rediscovery' of unjustly neglected black composers, notably including Florence Price, whose Symphony No.1 will finally get its Proms Premiere next week by the Philadelphia Orchestra.* The Chineke! started the evening with George Walker's Lilacs, Celebrating his centenary this year, Walker was similarly unheard at the Proms before the debut of the Chineke! here in 2017. 

The movements of Lilacs are short, and may not make comfortable listening, but Walker distinctly spins a dark web over Whitman's elegiac poem; the lilacs that represent a fresh renewal after the death of Abraham Lincoln are clouded for Walker under jagged strings, with Nicole Cabell's gleaming soprano tone elegant and rich throughout. More Walker please.

* This concert, planned for September 8th, was cancelled following the death of Queen Elizabeth II that evening. 

Butty Bach: High Spirits from John Butt and the OAE

Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment (left), John Butt (centre), Choir of the Age of Enlightenment (right)
Photo credit: BBC

The B Minor Mass. Nobody quite knows why Bach wrote it, its length making it completely inappropriate for a liturgical setting, Catholic or Lutheran, yet the music itself stands as a beautiful and deeply affecting spiritual experience in the concert hall. Such is its popularity that it was a full house which greeted John Butt, Director of the Orchestra and Choir of the Age of Enlightenment as he came onto the Proms stage to conduct them.

Butt chose a stage layout that could be best described as interesting. With a division of the forces, the instrumentalists and choir were split from one another, taking opposite sides of the stage. Of course, even the suggestion of this being a replication of a liturgical setting would certainly not be 'historically informed'! Sadly, in a work where interplay between soloists, choir, and orchestra is so vital, including Bach's continuo and obbligato parts, intelligibility for all those that were not standing where John Butt was conducting suffered at key moments, notably with the woodwind soloists, with the four flutes relegated to the extreme left of the stage, whose fine work in the obbligato to the Domine Deus could not be properly appreciated.

However, OAE soloists have to be credited with fine work throughout the evening, particularly the three trumpeters, distinguishing themselves with precise technicality and thoroughly sensitive playing in the Gloria which left me wishing that I, in order to hear more of them, was on the other side of the gallery, behind the singers, not the orchestra! Perhaps it was better on radio...

Butt conducted with constant pace and drive (not something unwelcome when standing as a prommer!), qualities certainly present in the 50-strong choir, rather large for 'Historically Informed Performance' Bach (though just the right size for the Albert Hall). However, once again it was the staging which led them to come off with such overwhelming strength to feel almost old-school. Still, over-exposure at times could be forgiven for the moments of sensitive beauty which were the stand-out moments of the evening; the change of mood into the dark Adagio in the Et exspecto resurecti was superbly controlled by Butt, with tense lyric lines held stunningly by the choir, morphing into a transformational, boundless joy which carried into an exuberant and exciting Sanctus. 

The Albert Hall acoustic is notoriously devilish for singers, and indeed, sopranos Mary Bevan and Rachel Dedmond, as well as bass Matthew Brook performed with mixed results in the cavernous hall, not helped by Bach's 'fiddly' vocal parts! However the countertenor Iestyn Davies impressed in a stand-out performance, with a penetratingly clear voice which seemed to embrace and coax the whole hall during his delivery of a simply heavenly Agnus dei. A fine and subtle Benedictus came from tenor Guy Cutting, and by the time of the closing Dona Nobis Pacem, all were left in no doubt that despite minor hiccups and inconsistencies, the drive and excitement of the OAE to play and sing one of the greatest works in the repertoire was to be grateful for.

Life-Affirming Nielsen from Dausgaard and the BBC SSO

A pair of matched concerts were to be Thomas Dausgaard's farewell to the BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra, whom he has led for the last six years. A Beethoven Piano Concerto, a Nielsen Symphony on both nights: tonight, Beethoven's Piano Concerto No.1 and Nielsen's Symphony No.3 'Sinfonia espansiva'.  First on the plate, however, was Ravel's La Valse, a piece full of drama and infectious style. All played as if they were soloists, which certainly brought a vibrant orchestral colour palette, though one that was perhaps a little too heavily laden, becoming almost indulgent, dangerously luxurious and heavy, as Dausgaard laid layer upon layer on the waltzing line, making it difficult to imagine the ballet Ravel envisioned.  

The performance of Beethoven's Piano Concerto No.1 proved no such problems. Light, punchy natural trumpets punctuated the BBC SSO, ensuring that the orchestra kept up with soloist Behzod Abduraimov's wit and play, refusing to be mere accompanists. Indeed, I often find natural trumpets a danger for orchestras, it being too easy for them to be overbearing and, put simply, too loud. No such issues here; Dausgaard energised the orchestra with them, proving true partners to Abduraimov's natural and fluent playing. Especially worthy of note was his interpretation of the concerto's second movement, its intimacy brought out with care and respect to every note. A spirited, exciting finale ensured that playfulness was the byword of Abduraimov's performance.

This continued into a spirited encore of Mercutio from Prokofiev's Romeo and Juliet, leading the Prommers to applaud wildly. But wait! His wagging finger reminded us there was still the coda to go! A few bars later, laughter and deserving applause broke out in its entirety. I shall never shake my head at clapping too early again...

Thomas Dausgaard wants his sound this big
Photo credit: BBC

Nielsen's rarely-performed Third Symphony followed the interval. Indeed, this work was receiving just fourth appearance at the Proms, and its first this century, being last performed in 1999 under the baton of Jukka-Pekka Saraste and the BBC Symphony Orchestra. Based on tonight's performance, it's a work that certainly deserves more outings. The brass particularly distinguished themselves, carrying an immense energy throughout, with a distinctively Scandinavian firmness and edge that made the performance so compelling. 

A particular high point was achieved in the second movement. Nielsen wrote two wordless vocal parts, for soprano and baritone, which sing and float above the orchestra, with ethereal results. Elizabeth Watts and Benjamin Appl's placement, in opposing bays of the gallery, surrounded the Albert Hall in music that was simply otherworldly. Many looked up and gazed in wonder. A calling from the rafters, from beyond. Perhaps it was this which Nielsen meant by his subtitle: 'sinfonia espansiva'. If it was, Dausgaard achieved it in fine form. 

It was a simply life-affirming finale. With a heroic, noble opening tune that recalls Beethoven and Brahms in a 'Scandinavian Ode to Joy', unfurling to boundless energy and conviction, all left with smiles and cheers. 

Wang and Mäkelä thrill the Promenaders

Yuja Wang and the Oslo Philharmonic
Photo credit: BBC

"International Orchestras are back!" was the proud claim of this season's BBC Proms advertising. Though it has taken until Prom 35, the full house which greeted the Oslo Philharmonic was evidence of the excitement of the night.

Of course, many were in the hall for one person, the 'superstar' Yuja Wang. However, the curtain opener for the concert saw the young Finnish conductor Klaus Mäkelä, fresh from recording his much-discussed and lauded Sibelius cycle with his Oslo forces, present Sibelius' Tapiola. Mäkelä is indeed quite something. At only 26, already chief in Oslo and Paris, he is up to take on the job of Chief Conductor at the Concertgebouw in five years. He's made far more than waves in classical music. It's a tsunami. His confidence on the podium, his rapport with the orchestra were tangible. He sculpted structures of sound together with elemental strength, textures emerged clear-sighted, bold and confident.

With Yuja Wang coming onto the stage to the Prommers' cheers, I must admit readily that Liszt's Piano Concerto No.1 is not a personal favourite. However, the work can surely have no greater champion than her. I was surprised to find myself completely captivated in every note of her performance, bringing far more than the party-trick virtuosity it is easy to degrade the concerto for. Indeed, her performance brings a new dimension; she presented Liszt as not simply a virtuosic tour de force, though there were undoubtedly such moments, but with nuance, with moments verging on silence, hanging us on a thread of suspense in the Albert Hall with an astonishingly immersive and heartfelt intimacy. 

Of course, it is well known by now that Yuja Wang is, in fact, superhuman. Her show of a performance in her choice of encore would have made even Liszt stop in amazement: Horowitz's fiendish Carmen Variations, played with disarming ease and breakneck style. In the final coda, one could almost feel an audible gasp in the hall as Wang paused, then launched into the finale at what felt like double speed. Still, the Prommers' cheers could not be satisfied, and a sensitive rendition of Sgambati's arrangement of a melody from Gluck's Orfeo ed Euridice proved once again Wang's mastery of  the emotional range of the evening's music.

Klaus Mäkelä conducts
Photo credit: BBC

Mäkelä drew an extraordinarily compelling sound from the amassed forces of the Oslo Philharmonic, coaxing a silky yet powerful sound from the strings, led by concertmaster Elise Bånet, whose solos, together with principal horn Inger Besserudhagen, were sublime. Holding back where necessary, yet beaming with excitement and an infectious energy, Mäkelä launched into Ein Heldenleben, and the Oslo Philharmonic followed him. It was the whole orchestra which followed him; from the superb woodwind soloists to a brass section on top form (special cheers for the two tubas!), the Oslo Philharmonic proved itself to be a true ensemble under the energetic baton of Mäkelä.

Indeed, in the often difficult to conquer acoustic of the Albert Hall, it was possible to hear every note; immense power, energy and excitement was a hallmark of the evening, a more than auspicious start from this new pairing. One can only hope they will make the Proms a regular summer stop.