Saturday 9th May 2015
Review of the concert by Philip Worth
Felix Mendelssohn made ten visits to Britain in his lifetime and on each occasion was lionised both as a composer and conductor. A doyen of early German romanticism his accessible, charmingly melodic classical style perfectly suited English musical taste at the time, but when he crossed the Tweed about the year 1829 and visited Fingal’s Cave in the Hebridean island of Staffa a new Mendelssohn was revealed. The extraordinary rock formations and turbulent sea lashing them so excited the 20-year-old composer that he produced a concert piece of pure programme music that would have done justice to Berlioz or Wagner. This ‘overture’ was a tone poem in every sense of the word and is the predecessor of many similar works in that format since then. DSO produced a tight and driven reading of the piece.
The life and career of Max Bruch echoed that of many of his contemporaries – Schumann, Mendelssohn, Weber, to mention but a few great names. Like them he showed precocious childhood talent, produced many compositions at an early age, was never without employment as conductor or teacher, was prolific in his output across the entire range of musical genres and enjoyed wide celebrity during his lifetime. But he had one advantage over those named – longevity. Using Elgar’s dates as a time frame Bruch was busy composing when the English composer was born and died in 1920 when Elgar was at the height of his powers and completing his great cello concerto. Yet somehow Bruch’s star does not shine with the brilliance of other luminaries in the musical galaxy. With a few outstanding exceptions most of his work has drifted into obscurity or at any rate does not receive the performance it deserves. One notable exception is, of course, the violin concerto no. 1, which ranks alongside, where it does not outshine, other great examples of this class by, e.g. Beethoven, Mendelssohn, Brahms. Bruch’s mighty work is perfection in every aspect – in orchestration, in passion, in lyrical intensity, in artistic integrity, indeed in every way that makes it a gem of German romanticism. And from our young virtuoso, Daniel Pioro, we enjoyed a performance which reflected all these attributes. Tom Loten’s ability to find virtuoso soloists for DSO concerts is unfailing and his baton ensures coherent orchestral support.
Brahms took up to twenty years to bring his first symphony to fruition, tormented as he was by the thought that he was following in the footsteps of the giant Beethoven. This torment seems not to have been suffered by other composers e.g. Mendelssohn and Schumann, both masters of melody who ‘did their own thing’ with symphonic form and produced lovely works in this genre with apparent ease. But Brahms did not embark upon his long struggle till about 1855 when he made preliminary notes and Beethoven’s Symphony no. 9 had already been in the musical canon for thirty years. But it was not till 1875 that Brahms’ First Symphony received its premiere and we can only guess at the endless false dawns and rejections with which the composer, always the perfectionist, filled the long period of gestation. Nor are we surprised to learn that the second symphony took less than a year (Summer 1877) to produce. This gentle, happy composition comes like a sigh of relief after the turbulence of the Number One. The melodies of the Second Symphony fall softly upon the ear and beckon to one another as on a warm, sunny day. But it is with a great, happy shout that the finale is reached, triumphantly dispelling any dark shadows. And what a note on which to end yet another splendid DSO concert!
Felix Mendelssohn made ten visits to Britain in his lifetime and on each occasion was lionised both as a composer and conductor. A doyen of early German romanticism his accessible, charmingly melodic classical style perfectly suited English musical taste at the time, but when he crossed the Tweed about the year 1829 and visited Fingal’s Cave in the Hebridean island of Staffa a new Mendelssohn was revealed. The extraordinary rock formations and turbulent sea lashing them so excited the 20-year-old composer that he produced a concert piece of pure programme music that would have done justice to Berlioz or Wagner. This ‘overture’ was a tone poem in every sense of the word and is the predecessor of many similar works in that format since then. DSO produced a tight and driven reading of the piece.
The life and career of Max Bruch echoed that of many of his contemporaries – Schumann, Mendelssohn, Weber, to mention but a few great names. Like them he showed precocious childhood talent, produced many compositions at an early age, was never without employment as conductor or teacher, was prolific in his output across the entire range of musical genres and enjoyed wide celebrity during his lifetime. But he had one advantage over those named – longevity. Using Elgar’s dates as a time frame Bruch was busy composing when the English composer was born and died in 1920 when Elgar was at the height of his powers and completing his great cello concerto. Yet somehow Bruch’s star does not shine with the brilliance of other luminaries in the musical galaxy. With a few outstanding exceptions most of his work has drifted into obscurity or at any rate does not receive the performance it deserves. One notable exception is, of course, the violin concerto no. 1, which ranks alongside, where it does not outshine, other great examples of this class by, e.g. Beethoven, Mendelssohn, Brahms. Bruch’s mighty work is perfection in every aspect – in orchestration, in passion, in lyrical intensity, in artistic integrity, indeed in every way that makes it a gem of German romanticism. And from our young virtuoso, Daniel Pioro, we enjoyed a performance which reflected all these attributes. Tom Loten’s ability to find virtuoso soloists for DSO concerts is unfailing and his baton ensures coherent orchestral support.
Brahms took up to twenty years to bring his first symphony to fruition, tormented as he was by the thought that he was following in the footsteps of the giant Beethoven. This torment seems not to have been suffered by other composers e.g. Mendelssohn and Schumann, both masters of melody who ‘did their own thing’ with symphonic form and produced lovely works in this genre with apparent ease. But Brahms did not embark upon his long struggle till about 1855 when he made preliminary notes and Beethoven’s Symphony no. 9 had already been in the musical canon for thirty years. But it was not till 1875 that Brahms’ First Symphony received its premiere and we can only guess at the endless false dawns and rejections with which the composer, always the perfectionist, filled the long period of gestation. Nor are we surprised to learn that the second symphony took less than a year (Summer 1877) to produce. This gentle, happy composition comes like a sigh of relief after the turbulence of the Number One. The melodies of the Second Symphony fall softly upon the ear and beckon to one another as on a warm, sunny day. But it is with a great, happy shout that the finale is reached, triumphantly dispelling any dark shadows. And what a note on which to end yet another splendid DSO concert!