BBCSSO, 06/12/2018
Barber : Second Essay for Orchestra
Britten : Violin Concerto (James Ehnes, violin)
Holst : The Planets
Les Sirènes
BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra
James Feddeck
This is the kind of programming that makes the BBCSSO's concerts consistently interesting; an Anglo-American programme written in the shadow of war. It opens up vistas you might not otherwise consider, and connections that are maybe spurious, and maybe not, but worth exploring.
We really don't hear enough Barber in our concert halls, and there's so much interesting material there. He wrote three Essays for Orchestra, the first two five years apart, indicative of his maturing style, and third near the end of his life. They are short, non-programmatic works for full orchestra, and fall into three sections - subject, counter-subject, synthesis - which sets them apart from the sonata form typical of a symphonic movement, for example. The Second, from 1942, has a thoughtful but lyrical subject, while the countersubject is more angular and troubled, and the conclusion has an almost philosophical weight to it, as well as an intimation of hope in dark times. Conductor James Feddeck drew an expansive, warm-toned interpretation from the orchestra, not altogether avoiding the occasionally filmic aspects of Barber's writing (I was very curiously reminded of Bernard Hermann at the start of the second section) but touching nevertheless.
As I've mentioned before, the Britten Violin Concerto is an early work, and Britten is still finding his feet in stylistic terms. The first movement has a meandering and melancholy lyricism that recalls the Barber Concerto, written more or less at the same time, and tonight clearly connected with the Second Essay, while the debt to Prokofiev in the second movement is undeniable. It's in the final movement, the Passacaglia, a musical form of which Britten was particularly fond and would return to regularly throughout his career, that you really start to hear his original voice. There are passages of interplay between brass and winds which bring to mind the Sinfonia da Requiem (which was soon to follow this Concerto), and which were brought well to the fore by Feddeck. James Ehnes's singing tone was well suited to this music, plangent and expressive, and the ending, with its extremely ambiguous tonality, was particularly effective.
The Planets was written during the First World War, and first performed in September of 1918 but, extraordinarily enough, it wasn't until late 1920 that the suite received its first complete public performance; everything prior to that had been of a selection of four or five movements, and usually ending with Jupiter, something that irritated Holst considerably, because he disapproved of the "happy ending" impression that gave. Later on, he would also be profoundly irritated that the popularity of The Planets tended to eclipse his other music, something which is regrettably true to this day. His attitude is comprehensible, especially when it comes to the aforementioned Jupiter movement, because that rollicking, rumbustious number, above all the rest, is atypical for Holst. You could, in fact, be forgiven for feeling that Holst was channelling Elgar for all his worth at that point. It's in the aqueous haze of Venus, the glaucous tolling bells of Saturn, or the glacial shimmer of Neptune that Holst's true voice is best heard.
Feddeck's view of The Planets is vigorous and unsentimental. I've heard Mars delivered more crushingly, but the implacability was there. Rudi de Groote again stood out in the brief cello solos in Venus, but unfortunately there was an off-key hummer somewhere in my vicinity in the concert hall who severely distracted both me and many of my neighbours at a point when we should have been enjoying the lyricism of this movement. Mercury was excellent, light and fleet, and Feddeck brought out the humour of the apparent snatches of Morse code very nicely. Jupiter was bright and brisk, while Saturn's funeral march came as a suitably grim contrast, death facing life. It was in the last two movements that I found the magic a little absent. The performances were good, and the ladies' chorus (with the help of the City Hall's excellent acoustics) worked beautifully in Neptune, but the interpretation was slightly lacking in mischief, for Uranus, and mystery, for Neptune, in my opinion. However, overall this was a fine performance, well nuanced and richly coloured.
[Next : 15th December]
Britten : Violin Concerto (James Ehnes, violin)
Holst : The Planets
Les Sirènes
BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra
James Feddeck
This is the kind of programming that makes the BBCSSO's concerts consistently interesting; an Anglo-American programme written in the shadow of war. It opens up vistas you might not otherwise consider, and connections that are maybe spurious, and maybe not, but worth exploring.
We really don't hear enough Barber in our concert halls, and there's so much interesting material there. He wrote three Essays for Orchestra, the first two five years apart, indicative of his maturing style, and third near the end of his life. They are short, non-programmatic works for full orchestra, and fall into three sections - subject, counter-subject, synthesis - which sets them apart from the sonata form typical of a symphonic movement, for example. The Second, from 1942, has a thoughtful but lyrical subject, while the countersubject is more angular and troubled, and the conclusion has an almost philosophical weight to it, as well as an intimation of hope in dark times. Conductor James Feddeck drew an expansive, warm-toned interpretation from the orchestra, not altogether avoiding the occasionally filmic aspects of Barber's writing (I was very curiously reminded of Bernard Hermann at the start of the second section) but touching nevertheless.
As I've mentioned before, the Britten Violin Concerto is an early work, and Britten is still finding his feet in stylistic terms. The first movement has a meandering and melancholy lyricism that recalls the Barber Concerto, written more or less at the same time, and tonight clearly connected with the Second Essay, while the debt to Prokofiev in the second movement is undeniable. It's in the final movement, the Passacaglia, a musical form of which Britten was particularly fond and would return to regularly throughout his career, that you really start to hear his original voice. There are passages of interplay between brass and winds which bring to mind the Sinfonia da Requiem (which was soon to follow this Concerto), and which were brought well to the fore by Feddeck. James Ehnes's singing tone was well suited to this music, plangent and expressive, and the ending, with its extremely ambiguous tonality, was particularly effective.
The Planets was written during the First World War, and first performed in September of 1918 but, extraordinarily enough, it wasn't until late 1920 that the suite received its first complete public performance; everything prior to that had been of a selection of four or five movements, and usually ending with Jupiter, something that irritated Holst considerably, because he disapproved of the "happy ending" impression that gave. Later on, he would also be profoundly irritated that the popularity of The Planets tended to eclipse his other music, something which is regrettably true to this day. His attitude is comprehensible, especially when it comes to the aforementioned Jupiter movement, because that rollicking, rumbustious number, above all the rest, is atypical for Holst. You could, in fact, be forgiven for feeling that Holst was channelling Elgar for all his worth at that point. It's in the aqueous haze of Venus, the glaucous tolling bells of Saturn, or the glacial shimmer of Neptune that Holst's true voice is best heard.
Feddeck's view of The Planets is vigorous and unsentimental. I've heard Mars delivered more crushingly, but the implacability was there. Rudi de Groote again stood out in the brief cello solos in Venus, but unfortunately there was an off-key hummer somewhere in my vicinity in the concert hall who severely distracted both me and many of my neighbours at a point when we should have been enjoying the lyricism of this movement. Mercury was excellent, light and fleet, and Feddeck brought out the humour of the apparent snatches of Morse code very nicely. Jupiter was bright and brisk, while Saturn's funeral march came as a suitably grim contrast, death facing life. It was in the last two movements that I found the magic a little absent. The performances were good, and the ladies' chorus (with the help of the City Hall's excellent acoustics) worked beautifully in Neptune, but the interpretation was slightly lacking in mischief, for Uranus, and mystery, for Neptune, in my opinion. However, overall this was a fine performance, well nuanced and richly coloured.
[Next : 15th December]