SCO, 25/11/2022

Grieg : Holberg Suite

Escaich : Baroque Song

Górecki : Harpsichord Concerto

Vivaldi : Concerto con molti strumenti, RV. 558

Hindemith : Suite französischer Tänze

Vivaldi : Concerto for 4 Violins and Cello, RV. 580

Scottish Chamber Orchestra

Maxim Emelyanychev

Maxim Emelyanychev's eclectic programmes for the SCO have become a feature of his tenure as Principal Conductor, and tonight was a perfect example, music from, but mostly inspired by the Baroque era, covering four centuries of composition, with Vivaldi at one end, and contemporary French composer Thierry Escaich at the other.

We began in more familiar territory, with Grieg's ever-popular suite From Holberg's Time, in its string orchestra arrangement.  Emelyanychev launched into the opening Praeludium with the breathless exuberance characteristic to him, but reined it in to deliver the other movements with charm and light grace, while the final Rigaudon had a little something of the "duelling banjos" to its duetting violins over crisp pizzicati from the other strings.

Thierry Escaich's Baroque Song was a commission from the Orchestre de Bretagne, created in 2007.  It's an orchestral piece in three movements, and the first two begin in similar fashion, quoting Bach organ chorales which are progressively overwhelmed by the rest of the orchestra.  Escaich is one of the latest in a long line of illustrious French organist-improviser-composers, the Bach chorales would be extremely familiar to him.  The opening movement is a burble of wind instruments, setting off a quick-fire mechanism that, while the harmonies may change radically, never strays too far from the indicated path.  The second movement begins with a reflective string quartet arrangement, and the quartet occasionally re-emerges from the orchestral texture, but here the chorale is taken over by a broodingly passionate score that reminded me slightly of Sibelius's Tapioca, heard just last night.  I suspect it's just the proximity, for Sibelius is not familiar territory for the French at all, his symphonies are still only just finding their footing in French concert halls.  A solo cello cadenza marks the transition to the nervous, and very brief last movement, where the homage to the Baroque is less evident.

Górecki's Harpsichord Concerto was written in 1980, and fell in the middle of a string of vocal and choral works, including his most famous compositions, the Symphony of Sorrowful Songs, which made Górecki a household name in the 1980s.  Górecki himself called the concerto a 'prank', suggesting that it maybe shouldn't be taken too seriously and, indeed, its manic energy has a cartoonish quality to it that both startles and delights.  It falls in two movements, both fast with much repetition, but the first has a very dark edge to it, while the second is a wild dance with a touch of folklore in it.  Scored for harpsichord and string orchestra, the SCO strings demonstrated the kind of precision instrument this orchestra is, because Emelyanychev, who was the harpsichord soloist, was barely able to lift his hands from the keyboard to direct the orchestra, the soloist is kept so busy in this piece.  The orchestra therefore had to hold together its equally busy part with minimal assistance from the conductor, and did so admirably.  Although the harpsichord was being discreetly amplified, the balance engineer should have pushed the dial up a couple of degrees on the instrument, because it was not easy to hear, and I imagine those right at the back of the hall would have had a real problem at times.  

The last modern piece of the evening, sandwiched between two Vivaldi concertos, was Hindemith's Suite of French Dances, from 1948, when he wrote it for his students at Yale.  This suite of seven movements falls into a group of neo-Classical works taking up early music and repurposing it for modern instruments, such as Respighi's Ancient Airs and Dances, Warlock's Capriol Suite, or Poulenc's Suite française, with which Hindemith's suite actually shares a number, the Bransle de Bourgogne, which is the Carillon in the Poulenc.  Emelyanychev retained the theorbo from the Vivaldi, and played recorder himself, and added a portable drum, to give the sound a more antique feel, no doubt.  It's a far cry from Hindemith's personal style, but it's an engaging piece nonetheless.

The two Vivaldi concertos were amongst the more extravagant of the 500-plus concertos he wrote.  The first, 'for many instruments' required two recorders, two chalumeaux, two mandolins, two theorbos, a cello and two violins in tromba marina, a real musicological puzzle, because no one quite knows what these were, but the currently accepted substitute involves wrapping tin foil around the violin's bridge to produce a slightly raucous, buzzing sound when played.  With that kind of soloist group, one might expect a treatment in the style of a concerto grosso, but Vivaldi divides his soloists into their familial pairs, and gives them 'breaks', as one might hear in a jazz set.  

The other concerto was more familiar to me, but in the transcription J.S. Bach made for four harpsichords.  In its original form, for four violins (mainly) the way the material was tossed around the parts was enthralling, and although, effectively, the whole ensemble is for strings (with the continuo here being harpsichord and theorbo), the differing textures and colours Vivaldi creates are remarkable, particularly in the latter part of the slow movement.  Both of these concerti were given vibrant readings, strong, bright and alert, and with a lovely focus on texture and detail.

This was a very absorbing concert with, in a way, something for everyone, in a highly interesting and varied programme.

[Next : 26th November]