RSNO, 10/11/2018
Prokofiev : Symphony No. 1 "Classical"
Tchaikovsky : Piano Concerto No. 1 (Alexander Gavrylyuk, piano)
Ken Johnston : 3 Movements from All Those Men who Marched Away
Poulenc : Gloria (Elin Rombo, soprano)
Glasgow Cambiata
RSNO Chorus
Royal Scottish National Orchestra
Thomas Søndergård
Tonight's concert marks the 175th anniversary of the RSNO Chorus, which means, most unusually, that it pre-dates the orchestra with which it is habitually paired. In fact, it's the chorus that caused the formation of the orchestra, rather than the other way around, and it's possibly the only such case in Britain. We are also on the eve of Remembrance Day, and not just any Remembrance Day, but the 100th anniversary of the Armistice that ended World War I. There was, therefore, a particular atmosphere to this concert, almost startlingly celebratory.
Prokofiev's "Classical" Symphony was written in 1917, in between the two revolutions that as irrevocably altered the Russian political and social landscape as the Great War was doing to Western Europe, but there's no trace of cataclysm in this ebullient and endearing neo-Classical pastiche. Søndergård and the orchestra gave it a bright and breezy reading, light-footed and charming, with mellifluous, twittering woodwinds and fleet strings.
The last time I heard the Tchaikovsky was with the undeniably talented but idiosyncratic Igor Levit as the soloist. The moment Alexander Gavrylyuk began playing, it was clear we had a more traditionally-minded performer before us, and none the worse for it. In the first movement, the particular interest of his playing was the contrasts of texture, from thunderous scales in double octaves to filigree-delicate passages, like ice frosting on a pane of glass. However, where he really marked the performance was in the second movement. At first, I thought Søndergård was taking it rather slow, until Gavrylyuk came in, and I realised that this wasn't the usual sentimental romance, but the tenderest of lullabies, with a gossamer-light central scherzo. This was exquisitely handled, something I've never heard like this before, and I was pleased that rather than commence the last movement attaca, as is frequently the case, we were given a moment to breathe after such finesse, before being plunged into the final rondo with gusto. Gavrylyuk is a performer who looks like he's really enjoying himself, and he returned to the platform with a faintly devilish smirk to perform an outrageously over-the-top arrangement of the Wedding March from A Midsummer Night's Dream (Mendelssohn) which could only have come from the imagination of Vladimir Horowitz.
Glasgow Cambiata is a recently formed, changed voices, boys' choir - that is, the singers are boys between 11 and 18 whose voices have broken, so it's not the slightly other-worldly sound of trebles that you get, but proper, if youthful, male voices. They're drawn from diverse Scottish (mostly Glasgow) schools, as well as the RSNO Junior Chorus, and the choir was created specifically for a concert marking the centenary of the Battle of the Somme in 2016. Tonight they were performing movements from All Those Men who Marched Away, by Scottish composer Ken Johnston, to texts by Jim Maxwell. The pieces are clear and fairly simple, perhaps a little banal, but easy on the ear, and the boys sang from memory and with excellent diction - not even a trace of the West of Scotland accent that occasionally plagues even the better children's choirs we have around here.
Born in 1899, Poulenc participated in the Great War only at the very end, on the Franco-German front for a few months before the Armistice, and then in a largely secretarial capacity while he completed his military service in the immediate aftermath. He entered the 1920s with all the fervour that typified the "Années Folles" and, like Prokofiev a little earlier, was definitely one of the "bright young things" of his age. In 1935, however, the brutal death in a car crash of a close friend, and a visit to the holy shrine at Rocamadour, combined to revive his abandoned Catholic faith. His output of religious music is of particular quality, with the late Gloria (1959) one of his finest pieces. There's no direct link between the Gloria - which is a celebratory trope - and either of the wars, but ballet aficionados in the UK, at least, will be aware that Kenneth MacMillan chose this piece for his eponymous 1980 ballet, inspired by Vera Brittain's Testament of Youth, a lament on the cost and futility of war, and a homage to MacMillan's own father, who died in the Battle of the Somme.
However, without that possibly spurious connection, the Gloria is a hymn of praise, with some reflective moments brought in by the soprano soloist. Although it's a relatively short work, the chorus is on call constantly, and RSNO Chorus was singing at its considerable best tonight, crisp, clear and subtle, vividly partnered by the orchestra, while Elin Rombo floated her silvery soprano over the ensemble with rapt beatitude.
[Next : 13th November]
Tchaikovsky : Piano Concerto No. 1 (Alexander Gavrylyuk, piano)
Ken Johnston : 3 Movements from All Those Men who Marched Away
Poulenc : Gloria (Elin Rombo, soprano)
Glasgow Cambiata
RSNO Chorus
Royal Scottish National Orchestra
Thomas Søndergård
Tonight's concert marks the 175th anniversary of the RSNO Chorus, which means, most unusually, that it pre-dates the orchestra with which it is habitually paired. In fact, it's the chorus that caused the formation of the orchestra, rather than the other way around, and it's possibly the only such case in Britain. We are also on the eve of Remembrance Day, and not just any Remembrance Day, but the 100th anniversary of the Armistice that ended World War I. There was, therefore, a particular atmosphere to this concert, almost startlingly celebratory.
Prokofiev's "Classical" Symphony was written in 1917, in between the two revolutions that as irrevocably altered the Russian political and social landscape as the Great War was doing to Western Europe, but there's no trace of cataclysm in this ebullient and endearing neo-Classical pastiche. Søndergård and the orchestra gave it a bright and breezy reading, light-footed and charming, with mellifluous, twittering woodwinds and fleet strings.
The last time I heard the Tchaikovsky was with the undeniably talented but idiosyncratic Igor Levit as the soloist. The moment Alexander Gavrylyuk began playing, it was clear we had a more traditionally-minded performer before us, and none the worse for it. In the first movement, the particular interest of his playing was the contrasts of texture, from thunderous scales in double octaves to filigree-delicate passages, like ice frosting on a pane of glass. However, where he really marked the performance was in the second movement. At first, I thought Søndergård was taking it rather slow, until Gavrylyuk came in, and I realised that this wasn't the usual sentimental romance, but the tenderest of lullabies, with a gossamer-light central scherzo. This was exquisitely handled, something I've never heard like this before, and I was pleased that rather than commence the last movement attaca, as is frequently the case, we were given a moment to breathe after such finesse, before being plunged into the final rondo with gusto. Gavrylyuk is a performer who looks like he's really enjoying himself, and he returned to the platform with a faintly devilish smirk to perform an outrageously over-the-top arrangement of the Wedding March from A Midsummer Night's Dream (Mendelssohn) which could only have come from the imagination of Vladimir Horowitz.
Glasgow Cambiata is a recently formed, changed voices, boys' choir - that is, the singers are boys between 11 and 18 whose voices have broken, so it's not the slightly other-worldly sound of trebles that you get, but proper, if youthful, male voices. They're drawn from diverse Scottish (mostly Glasgow) schools, as well as the RSNO Junior Chorus, and the choir was created specifically for a concert marking the centenary of the Battle of the Somme in 2016. Tonight they were performing movements from All Those Men who Marched Away, by Scottish composer Ken Johnston, to texts by Jim Maxwell. The pieces are clear and fairly simple, perhaps a little banal, but easy on the ear, and the boys sang from memory and with excellent diction - not even a trace of the West of Scotland accent that occasionally plagues even the better children's choirs we have around here.
Born in 1899, Poulenc participated in the Great War only at the very end, on the Franco-German front for a few months before the Armistice, and then in a largely secretarial capacity while he completed his military service in the immediate aftermath. He entered the 1920s with all the fervour that typified the "Années Folles" and, like Prokofiev a little earlier, was definitely one of the "bright young things" of his age. In 1935, however, the brutal death in a car crash of a close friend, and a visit to the holy shrine at Rocamadour, combined to revive his abandoned Catholic faith. His output of religious music is of particular quality, with the late Gloria (1959) one of his finest pieces. There's no direct link between the Gloria - which is a celebratory trope - and either of the wars, but ballet aficionados in the UK, at least, will be aware that Kenneth MacMillan chose this piece for his eponymous 1980 ballet, inspired by Vera Brittain's Testament of Youth, a lament on the cost and futility of war, and a homage to MacMillan's own father, who died in the Battle of the Somme.
However, without that possibly spurious connection, the Gloria is a hymn of praise, with some reflective moments brought in by the soprano soloist. Although it's a relatively short work, the chorus is on call constantly, and RSNO Chorus was singing at its considerable best tonight, crisp, clear and subtle, vividly partnered by the orchestra, while Elin Rombo floated her silvery soprano over the ensemble with rapt beatitude.
[Next : 13th November]