BBCSSO, 09/05/2019
Butterworth : The Banks of Green Willow
Vaughan Williams : On Wenlock Edge (David Webb, tenor)
Stravinsky : The Firebird
BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra
Ben Gernon
Butterworth and Vaughan Williams were both avid collectors of folk-song and, interestingly, recorded the same performer singing "The Banks of Green Willow". Apparently it's entirely possible they recorded it on the same day in 1909. Butterworth took four years to work the folk-song into a brief rhapsody, at first sight an archetypal example of English pastoralism. This is not, however, a simple evocation of English countryside, but a musical interpretation of the folk-song's story, which is actually rather grim. Conductor and orchestra deftly handled the balance between wistful charm and something darker and more passionate.
Of the hundreds of songs drawn from A.E. Housman's collection A Shropshire Lad, immensely popular around WWI, Vaughan Wiliams' s cycle On Wenlock Edge is arguably the finest setting of them all. 1909 was the breakthrough year for Vaughan Williams, it's the year of The Wasps, the Sea Symphony, and this cycle, written for tenor, piano and string quartet. The imprint of Ravel, with whom Vaughan Williams had studied for a few months recently, is very clear, it's some of Vaughan Williams's most impressionistic writing, but the clarity of texture is also that of the French composer. On the other hand, the music is also unmistakably Vaughan Williams, most notably in "Bredon Hills", with the pealing of bells that he evoked so often in his music. A dozen years later, he orchestrated the cycle, and Ravel's lessons are still evident in the quality of that orchestration, excellently rendered tonight. David Webb has a very pleasing voice, expressive, and with good, clear diction, however, it's a little small for this orchestrated version, and he was swamped once or twice by the orchestra at climaxes.
(The concert was broadcast live tonight, and out of curiosity, I listened to the replay when I got home. The microphones certainly redressed the balance between voice and orchestra, and Webb came out much more clearly. However, I stand by my comment; in situ, he lacked power.)
Stravinsky's first major success, The Firebird, also dates from this immediate pre-war period, but it has to be seen in the context of its commissioning source, Diaghilev and the Ballets Russes. Diaghilev was introducing Western Europe to a nation, and a cultural world quite foreign to them, and the heady exoticism of Stravinsky's score epitomises everything Diaghilev stood for in those early days. Here too, the influence of a teacher over his pupil is very strong, for Rimsky-Korsakov's brilliant orchestral palette is clearly evident in The Firebird. Stravinsky was much more of a chameleon than Vaughan Williams, far more stylistically versatile, and soon enough left this colourful style behind, yet the individuality of the composer, and the signposts forward, are also clearly present.
Gernon chose to present the full ballet score, rather than the more familiar 1919 suite. There is around fifteen to twenty minutes more of music, most of it connecting the better-known numbers. In one sense, it doesn't offer much more than the suite, but it's still wonderful music in which to wallow, because the intricacy and detail of the score is wonderful to hear in concert. I know the full score well enough, but I have only heard it in context - that is, in performances of the ballet. Aside from the fact that one's attention is primarily on the stage, and not in the pit, half the time ballet orchestras are not always the most precise of players, and then there's quite a difference in sound, between an orchestra in an opera-house pit (and you sitting who knows where in the auditorium), and the orchestra on a concert platform. Listening to Firebird tonight, I realised it must be a sound engineer's dream, and that I should really try a recording with headphones on, because Stravinsky bounces his material dazzlingly around the orchestra, in sections and sub-sections, particularly in the opening movement, to create this fantasy world of a mysterious, gloomy forest in which you catch fleeting glimpses of strange and wondrous creatures through the foliage.
That scattering effect made it very clear that the work as a whole is rather devilish to pull off, requiring pinpoint precision in both timing and playing, and having to seem silken-smooth in delivery, and that was something that didn't always quite come off tonight. Gernon picked quite brisk tempi, which were well chosen on the whole, but in the very fast passages, the winds sometimes seemed to lurch a little, not quite as fleet as required, and there were little moments when the strings weren't quite together. The one place where I would have argued with the tempo was the Lullaby, which passed rather too quickly, and did not suspend time as it should, but the Infernal Dance was excellent, and the Apotheosis suitably radiant.
[Next : 10th April]
Vaughan Williams : On Wenlock Edge (David Webb, tenor)
Stravinsky : The Firebird
BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra
Ben Gernon
Butterworth and Vaughan Williams were both avid collectors of folk-song and, interestingly, recorded the same performer singing "The Banks of Green Willow". Apparently it's entirely possible they recorded it on the same day in 1909. Butterworth took four years to work the folk-song into a brief rhapsody, at first sight an archetypal example of English pastoralism. This is not, however, a simple evocation of English countryside, but a musical interpretation of the folk-song's story, which is actually rather grim. Conductor and orchestra deftly handled the balance between wistful charm and something darker and more passionate.
Of the hundreds of songs drawn from A.E. Housman's collection A Shropshire Lad, immensely popular around WWI, Vaughan Wiliams' s cycle On Wenlock Edge is arguably the finest setting of them all. 1909 was the breakthrough year for Vaughan Williams, it's the year of The Wasps, the Sea Symphony, and this cycle, written for tenor, piano and string quartet. The imprint of Ravel, with whom Vaughan Williams had studied for a few months recently, is very clear, it's some of Vaughan Williams's most impressionistic writing, but the clarity of texture is also that of the French composer. On the other hand, the music is also unmistakably Vaughan Williams, most notably in "Bredon Hills", with the pealing of bells that he evoked so often in his music. A dozen years later, he orchestrated the cycle, and Ravel's lessons are still evident in the quality of that orchestration, excellently rendered tonight. David Webb has a very pleasing voice, expressive, and with good, clear diction, however, it's a little small for this orchestrated version, and he was swamped once or twice by the orchestra at climaxes.
(The concert was broadcast live tonight, and out of curiosity, I listened to the replay when I got home. The microphones certainly redressed the balance between voice and orchestra, and Webb came out much more clearly. However, I stand by my comment; in situ, he lacked power.)
Stravinsky's first major success, The Firebird, also dates from this immediate pre-war period, but it has to be seen in the context of its commissioning source, Diaghilev and the Ballets Russes. Diaghilev was introducing Western Europe to a nation, and a cultural world quite foreign to them, and the heady exoticism of Stravinsky's score epitomises everything Diaghilev stood for in those early days. Here too, the influence of a teacher over his pupil is very strong, for Rimsky-Korsakov's brilliant orchestral palette is clearly evident in The Firebird. Stravinsky was much more of a chameleon than Vaughan Williams, far more stylistically versatile, and soon enough left this colourful style behind, yet the individuality of the composer, and the signposts forward, are also clearly present.
Gernon chose to present the full ballet score, rather than the more familiar 1919 suite. There is around fifteen to twenty minutes more of music, most of it connecting the better-known numbers. In one sense, it doesn't offer much more than the suite, but it's still wonderful music in which to wallow, because the intricacy and detail of the score is wonderful to hear in concert. I know the full score well enough, but I have only heard it in context - that is, in performances of the ballet. Aside from the fact that one's attention is primarily on the stage, and not in the pit, half the time ballet orchestras are not always the most precise of players, and then there's quite a difference in sound, between an orchestra in an opera-house pit (and you sitting who knows where in the auditorium), and the orchestra on a concert platform. Listening to Firebird tonight, I realised it must be a sound engineer's dream, and that I should really try a recording with headphones on, because Stravinsky bounces his material dazzlingly around the orchestra, in sections and sub-sections, particularly in the opening movement, to create this fantasy world of a mysterious, gloomy forest in which you catch fleeting glimpses of strange and wondrous creatures through the foliage.
That scattering effect made it very clear that the work as a whole is rather devilish to pull off, requiring pinpoint precision in both timing and playing, and having to seem silken-smooth in delivery, and that was something that didn't always quite come off tonight. Gernon picked quite brisk tempi, which were well chosen on the whole, but in the very fast passages, the winds sometimes seemed to lurch a little, not quite as fleet as required, and there were little moments when the strings weren't quite together. The one place where I would have argued with the tempo was the Lullaby, which passed rather too quickly, and did not suspend time as it should, but the Infernal Dance was excellent, and the Apotheosis suitably radiant.
[Next : 10th April]