SCO, 08/12/2023

Vaughan Williams : Fantasia on a Theme by Thomas Tallis

Glass : Harpsichord Concerto

Respighi : Ancient Airs and Dances - Suite No. 1

Corelli : Concerto Grosso in B flat, Op. 6/11

Telemann : Concerto in D minor for Two Chalumeaux, TWV 52

Bach : Triple Concerto in D, BWV 1064R

Katherine Spencer, alto chalumeau

William Stafford, tenor chalumeau

Stephanie Gonley, Gordon Bragg, Marcus Barcham Stevens, violins

Scottish Chamber Orchestra

Maxim Emelyanychev, harpsichord/direction

At least a couple of times per season, the SCO's imaginative principal conductor, Maxim Emelyanychev, comes up with eclectic mixes of old and new music for concert programmes known as "Maxim's Baroque Inspirations".  Even though my interest in Baroque music is not strong, I've found these programmes both interesting and entertaining, and like to attend when I can.  Tonight was no exception.

Of course, the fact that they began with one of my favourite pieces of music did not hurt.  If asked, "What's the greatest piece of English (classical) music ever written?", my answer is quite likely to be the Tallis Fantasia.  The Times review of the premiere in 1910 said that "one is never sure whether one is listening to something very old or very new."  That is precisely the fascination of this piece.  From the very first bars, you sense the incense rising from an altar, the light and shadow streaming in through stained-glass windows, and the intricate fan-vaulting of the great Gothic cathedral, Gloucester, in which this music was first heard.  All of this, orchestra and conductor understood well; the problem was in the actual layout of the piece.  

Vaughan Williams asks for a quite unusual set-up, double string orchestra with string quartet.  Of the two string orchestras, one should be markedly larger than the other.  What you get is a sort of concerto grosso, with a tutti, a concertino and the solo quartet.  It's a bit of logistical nightmare at the best of times, I imagine the layout has to be altered for every hall.  It also imposes a minimum limit on the number of players involved, and the SCO was right at that limit, so some of the organ-like richness of the harmonies was somewhat attenuated, and that final, luminous G major chord sounded a trifle thin.

Philip Glass's Harpsichord Concerto was created in 2002 for the Seattle Northwest Chamber Orchestra.  It's more of a large-scale chamber piece than an orchestral one, with only eleven players other than the soloist, string quintet with double-bass instead of a second cello, and flute, two oboes, bassoon and two horns.  The first movement was the least satisfactory for me, because I found the harpsichord largely lost in the general ensemble.  Apart from the three points where the soloist delivers a very Baroque-inspired flourish, the instrument seemed very much relegated to continuo status, much the way we would hear it during the rest of the programme.  I've mentioned before the difficulties of hearing a harpsichord in his hall, and again, the instrument could not be moved around too much, so it was at the rear of the platform, which can't have helped.  In the other movements, though, the balance between the instruments, and the nature of the harpsichord's music, was redressed.  

The second movement begins with a five-note cell which had echoes of Rodrigo's "Concierto de Aranjuez" to it, but the movement is dominated by extended trills, sometimes shared with the flute, which are surely sorely testing of the soloist's stamina, and which Emelyanychev performed with deceptive ease.  The last movement bounces along with jaunty syncopation, and again, the harpsichord part can be better heard than in the first movement, the partnership with the other instruments better equalised.  

To end the first part we heard the 1st Suite of Respighi's "Ancient Airs and Dances".  Respighi was a noted musicologist, with a strong interest in early music, as was his wife Elsa.  Perhaps the best known example of this interest is the suite "The Birds", but the three sets of "Ancient Airs and Dances", transcriptions for orchestra of 16th Century Italian lute airs, are more faithful to the originals in many respects.  Respighi is an unjustly neglected composer, there are many highly original compositions, and he was quite possibly the best orchestrator in Italy of his period - which includes Puccini, just to put things in perspective.  I did feel that Emelyanychev wasn't quite hearing most of this suite as dance music (which it is), at least until the last movement.  The earlier ones were elegantly done, but not quite flowing.  The final 'Passo mezzo', on the other hand, bounced along with vigour and a cheeky wink, and suddenly it was very obvious where Stravinsky's Pulcinella had stemmed from; the two works are only a couple of years apart, with Respighi coming first.  And, after all, the two composers shared a master; both were pupils of Rimsky-Korsakov.

After the interval, we were no longer listening to works inspired by the Baroque, but to the real thing.  First came one of Corelli's Concerti Grossi, Op. 11 No. 6, one of the senate da camera, which are essentially dance suites.  I'll be honest, to me it felt a lot longer than it's ten minutes' playing time.  Apart from the Allemande second movement, where I was enthralled by principal cellist Philip Higham's energetic solos, this is music that does not really engage me, and while accomplished, tonight's performance did not convert me.

The Telemann that followed was rather more interesting, mostly because of the solo instruments.  The chalumeau is a precursor of the clarinet, a single-reed instrument that looks very much like a recorder, at least from a distance, and is of limited range, though it can be overblown.  It came in 'consorts', or families of varying size, much like the modern saxophone, and produces a very soft, slightly hooting tone, very mellow in timbre.  It's something that would easily be drowned out, so it was fascinating to observe how careful Telemann was with his orchestration, how much space he gave the soloists, to let them be heard, and to contrast with the string and continuo orchestra around them.  This was a delightful piece, very pleasing to hear.

There are two so-called "Triple" Concertos in the BWV catalogue, both for keyboard, and both are believed to be transcriptions of earlier works.  In the case of 1064, the original is thought to have been for three violins, so a reconstruction, labelled BWV 1064R, exists, and that is what was heard tonight.  What I found interesting about this version was how it seemed to link back to the Vaughan Williams, the groups of string players creating similar sonorities.  What disconcerted me in Emelyanychev's line-up was the presence of the theorbo in the continuo group.  I love the sound of that bass lute, but I barely associate Bach with any of the lute family except via modern transcriptions, and it just seemed an alien instrument in that texture, so it threw me a little.  Despite that, however, this was an invigorating finale, with stylish virtuosity from the three soloists.

[Next : 9th December]