RSNO, 12/10/2019
Bax : In the Faëry Hills
Shostakovich : Symphony No. 9
Rachmaninoff : Piano Concerto No. 3 (Vadym Kholodenko, piano)
Royal Scottish National Orchestra
Thomas Søndergård
It was nice to see some Bax in a concert programme; it's all too rare. Bax is maybe the only true English Impressionist, and he indulged in his penchant for colour and texture in a series of tone poems of which In the Faëry Hills was the second, an early work, written when Bax was in his late twenties. It's also an example of his Celtic idiom. Bax held a life-long interest in Ireland and Celtic culture, which had quite recently been sparked when he came to write this symphonic poem, inspired by the poetry of W.B. Yeats. Without being an explicit, frame-by-frame rendering of the specific episode from The Wanderings of Oisin, Bax evokes the wild dances of the faery folk, the suggestion of forest and woodland, and the sad, solemn song of humanity and mortality that disturb the faery so. It's a little overlong, and that was something that Søndergård was not quite able to make us forget, but worth hearing nonetheless.
When Shostakovich was ready to begin work on his 9th Symphony, it was the end of the war, and the expectation from on-high - not unfuelled by the composer himself - was for something triumphant and celebratory, and possibly rather inspired by Beethoven's 9th, a big work with chorus and vocal soloists. What emerged was something completely different, "a piece so entertaining that the Soviet authorities banned it", to quote Søndergård in tonight's programme, and once again, Shostakovich found himself in hot water with the powers-that-were.
One of Shostakovich's shortest symphonies, it certainly exudes a genuine playfulness that tends to be largely absent from much of his music, at least anything written post-1935. While Shostakovich's humorous scores are always a bit manic - and this is no exception - the ferocious, biting sarcasm that darkens so much of his music is, for once, absent. It's not all fun and games, the second movement is quite melancholic, but it's also serene, relatively untroubled. Søndergård and the RSNO gave this a scintillating performance, all the opportunities for the orchestral soloists (the leader, clarinet, flute, bassoon, trumpet) to shine seized upon and exploited to the hilt, the whole bright and febrile with excitement. Again, Shostakovich's orchestral scores are rarely without a sense of menace at some point or another, and this was made perfectly clear, but the final march was like a circus parade, broad, brilliant and brassy, before the orchestra kicked up its heels and scampered off into the madcap coda.
It's been eight years, almost exactly, since the RSNO under Stéphane Denève, with Nikolai Lugansky, gave what has become the benchmark performance of the Rach 3 in my experience. That was the standard to be met tonight by Vadym Kholodenko. Technically, Kholodenko was truly impressive, with excellent articulation, giving an astonishingly 'clean' performance, and it's astonishing because of the fistfuls of notes Rachmaninoff writes for the soloist, which must be nearly impossible to play completely accurately in concert. Yet Kholodenko came as close to it as I've ever heard, also with near inaudible pedalling, keeping the sound completely clear and sharp.
On the negative side, however, there were two things, a piano sound that struck me as a little harsh and, more importantly, a distinct tendency to pull the music around, that Søndergård accepted and to which he catered. I don't think the actual performance exceeded a standard version in duration to any marked extent, but it certainly felt like it. Kholodenko's approach was too idiosyncratic for my liking, it's too easy to over-egg the pudding with Rachmaninoff, and that's what he was doing to my mind. There were felicities in this performance, especially when the strings gave full voice to Rachmaninoff's lush, sweeping melodies, but as a whole it didn't quite click for me. The reception was certainly rapturous enough, but when you've heard what can really be done with that concerto, this sort of self-indulgence no longer really satisfies.
[Next ; 17th October]
Shostakovich : Symphony No. 9
Rachmaninoff : Piano Concerto No. 3 (Vadym Kholodenko, piano)
Royal Scottish National Orchestra
Thomas Søndergård
It was nice to see some Bax in a concert programme; it's all too rare. Bax is maybe the only true English Impressionist, and he indulged in his penchant for colour and texture in a series of tone poems of which In the Faëry Hills was the second, an early work, written when Bax was in his late twenties. It's also an example of his Celtic idiom. Bax held a life-long interest in Ireland and Celtic culture, which had quite recently been sparked when he came to write this symphonic poem, inspired by the poetry of W.B. Yeats. Without being an explicit, frame-by-frame rendering of the specific episode from The Wanderings of Oisin, Bax evokes the wild dances of the faery folk, the suggestion of forest and woodland, and the sad, solemn song of humanity and mortality that disturb the faery so. It's a little overlong, and that was something that Søndergård was not quite able to make us forget, but worth hearing nonetheless.
When Shostakovich was ready to begin work on his 9th Symphony, it was the end of the war, and the expectation from on-high - not unfuelled by the composer himself - was for something triumphant and celebratory, and possibly rather inspired by Beethoven's 9th, a big work with chorus and vocal soloists. What emerged was something completely different, "a piece so entertaining that the Soviet authorities banned it", to quote Søndergård in tonight's programme, and once again, Shostakovich found himself in hot water with the powers-that-were.
One of Shostakovich's shortest symphonies, it certainly exudes a genuine playfulness that tends to be largely absent from much of his music, at least anything written post-1935. While Shostakovich's humorous scores are always a bit manic - and this is no exception - the ferocious, biting sarcasm that darkens so much of his music is, for once, absent. It's not all fun and games, the second movement is quite melancholic, but it's also serene, relatively untroubled. Søndergård and the RSNO gave this a scintillating performance, all the opportunities for the orchestral soloists (the leader, clarinet, flute, bassoon, trumpet) to shine seized upon and exploited to the hilt, the whole bright and febrile with excitement. Again, Shostakovich's orchestral scores are rarely without a sense of menace at some point or another, and this was made perfectly clear, but the final march was like a circus parade, broad, brilliant and brassy, before the orchestra kicked up its heels and scampered off into the madcap coda.
It's been eight years, almost exactly, since the RSNO under Stéphane Denève, with Nikolai Lugansky, gave what has become the benchmark performance of the Rach 3 in my experience. That was the standard to be met tonight by Vadym Kholodenko. Technically, Kholodenko was truly impressive, with excellent articulation, giving an astonishingly 'clean' performance, and it's astonishing because of the fistfuls of notes Rachmaninoff writes for the soloist, which must be nearly impossible to play completely accurately in concert. Yet Kholodenko came as close to it as I've ever heard, also with near inaudible pedalling, keeping the sound completely clear and sharp.
On the negative side, however, there were two things, a piano sound that struck me as a little harsh and, more importantly, a distinct tendency to pull the music around, that Søndergård accepted and to which he catered. I don't think the actual performance exceeded a standard version in duration to any marked extent, but it certainly felt like it. Kholodenko's approach was too idiosyncratic for my liking, it's too easy to over-egg the pudding with Rachmaninoff, and that's what he was doing to my mind. There were felicities in this performance, especially when the strings gave full voice to Rachmaninoff's lush, sweeping melodies, but as a whole it didn't quite click for me. The reception was certainly rapturous enough, but when you've heard what can really be done with that concerto, this sort of self-indulgence no longer really satisfies.
[Next ; 17th October]