BBCSSO, 10/03/2022

Wagner : Tristan und Isolde - Prelude and Liebestod

Vaughan Williams : The Lark Ascending (Rosanne Philippens, violin)

Sibelius : Symphony No. 1

BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra

Mark Wigglesworth

There are only a handful of pieces of music that can be said to have changed the face of music irrevocably and fundamentally, and Wagner's Tristan is one of them.  It is also truly extraordinary that, while the almost four hours of the actual opera hold untold riches, it can, nevertheless, be condensed down to a quarter of an hour, by bringing the opposite ends together like a Mad magazine cover concertina-folded to bring the outer edges together into a new image.  Mark Wigglesworth (not to be confused with the orchestra's Principal Conductor Designate Ryan Wigglesworth) has a solid history in the opera house, yet I did feel that his reading lacked a little drive, that forward impulse that throws the listener off the cliff edge into the harmonic maelstrom of Wagner's imagination.  Nowhere was this more obvious than in the climax to the Liebestod, the climbing spiral of a short phrase in the strings, winding ever upwards until it explodes at the top, like a great firework cluster.  It was well played, but there was no urgency to it.

Dutch violinist Rosanne Philippens began The Lark Ascending particularly beautifully, muted and intense, so that you really felt the bird approaching from a long distance, a little speck, and a whisper of sound gradually drawing nearer, becoming ever clearer.  She drew it to a close in the same fashion, in reverse, and beneath her easily trilling lark, the orchestra wove Vaughan Williams pastoral tapestry of fields and woods.  

The odd thing about this was not the piece itself, Lark is lovely music and it was given its due.  However, it's a short piece, between 12 and 16 minutes depending on how soloist and conductor feel it, and, to be honest, I've never felt it stood as a 'concerto' item, a vehicle for a star soloist.  For me, it is and has always been a tone poem with a prominent solo violin part, but meant to be performed more as an opener, with the orchestra's leader as soloist.  It's certainly short measure in terms of normal concert fare, where a standard 19th Century violin concerto averages around 25 minutes.  During the applause for Lark, a few extra musicians slipped discreetly onto the platform which made it obvious that there was going to be more, and would include the orchestra, so it seemed clear that all parties concerned had decided to make up the weight, so to speak.  I doubt anyone anticipated the 'encore' being Ravel's fiendish Tzigane, though!  

A greater contrast, and a more spectacular one, could hardly be imagined, Ravel's gypsy violinist as wild as the bird, but feet firmly on the ground, earthy and sensual, and Philippens's sound was correspondingly darker and richer than the ethereal Lark.  I think this is actually the first time I've ever seen the orchestral version of the piece; I know it from recordings, and I've certainly seen the original violin and piano version played in recital, many times, but this was something else again.  As always, Ravel is fascinating to watch in the orchestra, in the ways he produces his effects, and who gets to play what, and it felt as if the orchestra was having fun with the piece, giving it a proper sense of swagger.

Sibelius wrote his First Symphony in 1899.  It was not his first attempt at a large-scale symphonic work, that had come several years before with Kullervo, which is part symphony, part cantata.  However, the 1st Symphony marks a refinement of style.  Kullervo's rough edges are smoothed out and polished, there's a greater attention to colour and texture, and the structure is much more formal.  Because he has taken, so to speak, a step back into the constraints of form, his early influences are more obvious, notably Tchaikovsky, especially in the broad lyricism of the second subject of the first movement.  His voice is nevertheless very clear, if perhaps a little overworked; in later pieces, he would be able to achieve the same results with less orchestral extravagance, and the luminosity that gives his music would become all the more remarkable.  

The orchestra handled the dense richness of the scoring well, Yann Ghiro's mellow, soulful clarinet solo opening the proceedings to great effect.  The storm effects, which occur constantly throughout the piece, rolling thunderclouds pierced by lightning bolts from strings or winds, were clearly delivered.  The Scherzo teetered on the edge of disorder at one moment, before getting firmly back on track, but the more freeform Finale was nicely paced, with the 'big theme' at its heart given ardent expression, and in conclusion this was a genuine and passionate performance.

[Next : 16th March]