Sunday 22nd January 2012
Review of this concert by Philip Worth:
What a romantic side to his musical soul Tom Loten displayed in programming this concert (although we always knew it was there). Classical purists may well have cried out for Bach or Handel or Haydn but it is clear that our musical director was determined to give his audience a good wallow. And if in the process handkerchiefs were moistened so much the better. But nothing slighting in these remarks is intended; it must be stressed that all the works performed are established masterpieces by leading composers of the romantic and modern eras – familiarity in no way diminishes their splendour.
It is difficult to hear the strains of Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake Suite without conjuring up in the mind’s eye the beauties of the classical ballet. Ballet as a performing art was enjoying a high in the latter part of the nineteenth century; Tchaikovsky and Delibes (Coppelia, Sylvia) were at the height of their powers while French Impressionist artist Degas found dancers in motion a constant source of inspiration (as witness the recent exhibition at the Royal Academy). DSO’s playing of this ravishing music was perfection.
The strings of the orchestra rose to the challenge of Samuel Barber’s Adagio wonderfully well. The exquisite but melancholy legato figures climb gently upward until, catching one almost by surprise, a moment of acute tension is reached, after which the music sinks back into solemn resignation. In fact the Adagio was composed by Barber as the second movement of his String Quartet Op 11 (see programme notes), but the piece is so distinctive that it is usually performed as a separate concert item – a memorable rendering was given at a Henry Wood Promenade Concert in 2001 as a tribute to those who died on 9/11.
Gustav Holst’s Planet Suite has few equals as a vivid piece of programme music, distinguished as it is by startling originality of conception and an amazingly rich texture of orchestration. It is still, nearly a hundred years after its creation, a universal favourite, and remains one of the most recorded works of all time. Oddly enough, for such a popular piece, it had to wait some years for its first public performance (LSO late 1920). Deterrents were the technical complexity of the music, and expense – huge orchestras are required.
DSO tackled two movements: Mars the Bringer of War pounds along, sweeping all obstacles aside until it expires on its dying breath with two crashing dissonant chords – scary! Jupiter, the Bringer of Jollity is also the Chief of the Gods (as well as the largest planet in the solar system). In this movement his lordship shows two sides of his big personality. At the beginning and the end he is in jovial mood, his laughter booming out and shaking the very cosmos; but, in between times, with wondrous, majestic chords he raises the cup aloft and toasts….what? It can only be the British Empire!
To think that one could add anything new to what has been written a thousand times about Rachmaninov’s Second Piano Concerto may be considered foolhardy or presumptuous – perhaps both. Apart from concert performances this romantic masterpiece has provided the musical backdrop for many films and other dramatic productions: one thinks of Celia Johnson’s desperately unhappy love affair in Brief Encounter; and, on a lighter note, in The Seven year Itch Tom Ewell on the piano fantasizing about an encounter with Marilyn Monroe (can’t remember whether the silk dressing gown and long cigarette holder were in evidence!) And so on. What should have honourable mention here is the performance of the young virtuoso Stuart Davies who threw himself into this challenging work with great technical dexterity but, above all, with sensitivity and a complete rapport with the music’s profound emotional depths. A footnote of interest is that a performance of the concerto by Howard Shelley in the very same hall was what inspired a youthful Stuart to dedicate his life to being a Concert pianist!
What a romantic side to his musical soul Tom Loten displayed in programming this concert (although we always knew it was there). Classical purists may well have cried out for Bach or Handel or Haydn but it is clear that our musical director was determined to give his audience a good wallow. And if in the process handkerchiefs were moistened so much the better. But nothing slighting in these remarks is intended; it must be stressed that all the works performed are established masterpieces by leading composers of the romantic and modern eras – familiarity in no way diminishes their splendour.
It is difficult to hear the strains of Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake Suite without conjuring up in the mind’s eye the beauties of the classical ballet. Ballet as a performing art was enjoying a high in the latter part of the nineteenth century; Tchaikovsky and Delibes (Coppelia, Sylvia) were at the height of their powers while French Impressionist artist Degas found dancers in motion a constant source of inspiration (as witness the recent exhibition at the Royal Academy). DSO’s playing of this ravishing music was perfection.
The strings of the orchestra rose to the challenge of Samuel Barber’s Adagio wonderfully well. The exquisite but melancholy legato figures climb gently upward until, catching one almost by surprise, a moment of acute tension is reached, after which the music sinks back into solemn resignation. In fact the Adagio was composed by Barber as the second movement of his String Quartet Op 11 (see programme notes), but the piece is so distinctive that it is usually performed as a separate concert item – a memorable rendering was given at a Henry Wood Promenade Concert in 2001 as a tribute to those who died on 9/11.
Gustav Holst’s Planet Suite has few equals as a vivid piece of programme music, distinguished as it is by startling originality of conception and an amazingly rich texture of orchestration. It is still, nearly a hundred years after its creation, a universal favourite, and remains one of the most recorded works of all time. Oddly enough, for such a popular piece, it had to wait some years for its first public performance (LSO late 1920). Deterrents were the technical complexity of the music, and expense – huge orchestras are required.
DSO tackled two movements: Mars the Bringer of War pounds along, sweeping all obstacles aside until it expires on its dying breath with two crashing dissonant chords – scary! Jupiter, the Bringer of Jollity is also the Chief of the Gods (as well as the largest planet in the solar system). In this movement his lordship shows two sides of his big personality. At the beginning and the end he is in jovial mood, his laughter booming out and shaking the very cosmos; but, in between times, with wondrous, majestic chords he raises the cup aloft and toasts….what? It can only be the British Empire!
To think that one could add anything new to what has been written a thousand times about Rachmaninov’s Second Piano Concerto may be considered foolhardy or presumptuous – perhaps both. Apart from concert performances this romantic masterpiece has provided the musical backdrop for many films and other dramatic productions: one thinks of Celia Johnson’s desperately unhappy love affair in Brief Encounter; and, on a lighter note, in The Seven year Itch Tom Ewell on the piano fantasizing about an encounter with Marilyn Monroe (can’t remember whether the silk dressing gown and long cigarette holder were in evidence!) And so on. What should have honourable mention here is the performance of the young virtuoso Stuart Davies who threw himself into this challenging work with great technical dexterity but, above all, with sensitivity and a complete rapport with the music’s profound emotional depths. A footnote of interest is that a performance of the concerto by Howard Shelley in the very same hall was what inspired a youthful Stuart to dedicate his life to being a Concert pianist!