Saturday 17th May 2008
Review of this concert by Philip Worth:
It seems strange, in retrospect, that Dvorak should, for much of his career, have turned his back on the thought of composing a cello concerto. While acknowledging its status as an indispensable orchestral component, he considered it unsuitable for solo work. But he gradually came round to the idea, and the clincher came when he was in the United States as Director of the newly formed New York Conservatory. There he heard a cello concerto by American Victor Herbert (composer of the operetta ‘Naughty Marietta’) and was won over. The result was a work which prompted Brahms to remark ‘why on earth didn’t I know that one could write a cello concerto like this? If I had only known I would have written one long ago.’ And the music critic Harold Schonberg, who was not an unqualified admirer of the composer, remarked that he had produced ‘an attractive piano concerto with a rather ineffective piano part, a beautiful violin concerto, and a supreme cello concerto.’ What more need be said? In this sublime work Dvorak puts all his seductive gifts on display: inexhaustible melodic invention, deep lyricism, brilliant orchestration, and a ‘dying fall’ which is unique to the composer. And, with the DSO in fine fettle, all this was placed in the capable hands of Oliver Coates, a young virtuoso looking more like fourteen than his twenty-four years. Oliver made his cello sing richly and passionately in every register, and his interaction with the orchestra was perfect. This was nowhere better displayed than in the dialogue with the first violin in the final movement, a passage of lyric intensity.
How appropriate to go from a masterpiece by Dvorak to one by his friend and mentor, Johannes Brahms, whose first symphony brought the concert to a triumphant end. This was a work which the composer agonized over for fifteen years before putting pen to paper. Brahms’ problem was that he constantly felt himself under the shadow of his revered idol, Beethoven, whose mighty Ninth (Chorale) Symphony seemed, then, to be the last word in this genre. Brahms’ opus is a turbulent kaleidoscope of lights and darks, from the relentless pounding of the opening bars to the blazing finale. Tension informs this great work throughout its course – a ‘tempest blowing across a darkling moor’- momentarily relieved, perhaps, by the glorious horn passage in the last movement, like the sun breaking through clouds. It is as though all the artistic and emotional stress undergone by Brahms in the previous fifteen years is distilled in this symphony, imparting to the musical form a new lease of life which would carry well into the twentieth century. Perhaps the ultimate accolade for Brahms’ ‘First’ is that Hans von Bulow dubbed it Beethoven’s ‘Tenth’. What more could anyone say?
A fine concert with all players in cracking form was gaily introduced by Nicolai’s Overture ‘The Merry Wives of Windsor’. This piece admirably suits the ebullient fun of Shakespeare’s play and requires a lightness of touch which could be difficult to achieve, particularly for the strings. That it was achieved does credit to the DSO, and no-one will begrudge a special mention for the new leader Jane McClelland who marshalled her forces in great style – as well as being a superb instrumentalist in her own right.
It seems strange, in retrospect, that Dvorak should, for much of his career, have turned his back on the thought of composing a cello concerto. While acknowledging its status as an indispensable orchestral component, he considered it unsuitable for solo work. But he gradually came round to the idea, and the clincher came when he was in the United States as Director of the newly formed New York Conservatory. There he heard a cello concerto by American Victor Herbert (composer of the operetta ‘Naughty Marietta’) and was won over. The result was a work which prompted Brahms to remark ‘why on earth didn’t I know that one could write a cello concerto like this? If I had only known I would have written one long ago.’ And the music critic Harold Schonberg, who was not an unqualified admirer of the composer, remarked that he had produced ‘an attractive piano concerto with a rather ineffective piano part, a beautiful violin concerto, and a supreme cello concerto.’ What more need be said? In this sublime work Dvorak puts all his seductive gifts on display: inexhaustible melodic invention, deep lyricism, brilliant orchestration, and a ‘dying fall’ which is unique to the composer. And, with the DSO in fine fettle, all this was placed in the capable hands of Oliver Coates, a young virtuoso looking more like fourteen than his twenty-four years. Oliver made his cello sing richly and passionately in every register, and his interaction with the orchestra was perfect. This was nowhere better displayed than in the dialogue with the first violin in the final movement, a passage of lyric intensity.
How appropriate to go from a masterpiece by Dvorak to one by his friend and mentor, Johannes Brahms, whose first symphony brought the concert to a triumphant end. This was a work which the composer agonized over for fifteen years before putting pen to paper. Brahms’ problem was that he constantly felt himself under the shadow of his revered idol, Beethoven, whose mighty Ninth (Chorale) Symphony seemed, then, to be the last word in this genre. Brahms’ opus is a turbulent kaleidoscope of lights and darks, from the relentless pounding of the opening bars to the blazing finale. Tension informs this great work throughout its course – a ‘tempest blowing across a darkling moor’- momentarily relieved, perhaps, by the glorious horn passage in the last movement, like the sun breaking through clouds. It is as though all the artistic and emotional stress undergone by Brahms in the previous fifteen years is distilled in this symphony, imparting to the musical form a new lease of life which would carry well into the twentieth century. Perhaps the ultimate accolade for Brahms’ ‘First’ is that Hans von Bulow dubbed it Beethoven’s ‘Tenth’. What more could anyone say?
A fine concert with all players in cracking form was gaily introduced by Nicolai’s Overture ‘The Merry Wives of Windsor’. This piece admirably suits the ebullient fun of Shakespeare’s play and requires a lightness of touch which could be difficult to achieve, particularly for the strings. That it was achieved does credit to the DSO, and no-one will begrudge a special mention for the new leader Jane McClelland who marshalled her forces in great style – as well as being a superb instrumentalist in her own right.