Friday 9 August, 2013

Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra, Bavarian Radio Chorus, WDR Radio Choir, Cologne, Mariss Jansons

It is fifty years since I first heard Mahler’s Resurrection Symphony at the Proms under Leopold Stokowski and I don’t recall how full the Royal Albert Hall was then given that Mahler was not in fashion. There were certainly very few seats last night when Mariss Jansons led his Bavarian forces in a carefully controlled but compelling reading of the score. The edgy, plaintive opening gave way only fitfully to moments of solace which were quickly snuffed out and the final melt-down to the long first movement seemed to indicate that death was, after all, just a joke.

The second movement was surprisingly light, almost hesitant, in its unfolding, with touches of sentimentality before Jansons took it by the scruff of the neck and forced out any lurking hints of joy.

The third movement was full of gentle dance rhythms and brought us a headily indulgent trio, before Gerhild Romberger, singing from the midst of the orchestra, oozed her way into Urlicht, a magical moment, beautifully executed. She was joined by Genia Kuhmeier in the finale and both soared effortlessly over the enormous forces around them.

The fury of the finale was always tightly controlled, a sense that we were being encouraged to experience without indulging over-emotionally in the narrative. The hushed opening bars from the united chorus were breath-taking, like wind in the trees on a summer night, but once the movement eased towards its climax it was as if the chorus took off by themselves and there was no stopping the inevitable shattering climax.

The orchestra gave us the dynamic range of the work without the rawness which other performers often bring to it, though it never lacked excitement. The extended roar at the end was certainly justified. BH

Sheldonian Theatre, Oxford, 5 August 2013

Christoph Pregardien, tenor; Menahem Pressler, piano

The Sheldonian may not be the most comfortable of venues for most of the audience but this seemed appropriate when undertaking Winterreise with such profoundly moving musicians. Christoph Pregardien’s approach to Schubert’s cycle seemed surprisingly positive in the opening Gute Nacht but one soon realised this, and the occasional angry outbursts, were a futile attempt to address the overarching need to reconcile oneself to loss and eventual death.

Along the way there were many wonderful moments. The final line of Gute Nacht brought just the hint of pain which returned again in Wasserflut. There are brief moments of remembered joy in Erstarrung and Der Lindenbaum but these do not last, giving way to bitterness at the end of Auf dem Flusse. As the cycle unfolded it was clear that Christoph Pregardien was moving us to a point of resignation where we could accept the inevitable. This was possibly the most poignant moment. At the end of Der Wegweiser there was a sudden sense of calm, an acceptance of the inevitability of, almost a wish for, death, which led to a glowing account of Das Wirtshaus. But death does not come and bitterness returns as he flung Mut into the face of fate. The concluding Der Leiermann was enigmatic and disturbing – a perfect conclusion to one of the most profound compositions ever set down, and performed as well as one could ever wish.

Throughout Christoph Pregardien had gently placed the songs to give them a dramatic environment. We saw as well as heard his anger, we saw the crows above; we sensed the warmth of his memory. Winterreise has in some instances been staged, but the sensitive creation here was more than enough to involve us fully in the on-going narrative.

Menahem Pressler’s accompaniment was a miracle in itself. Not only were we aware of the tear drops, the storms and the passion, but the pregnant silences, the breathless hush, were often almost unbearable. Such impact from some of the sparest accompaniments Schubert ever wrote deserved to be heard by themselves – though of course this would make no sense!

Christoph Pregardien can be heard in Schubert again, together with songs by Mahler and Mendelssohn at the Holywell Music Room on 25 October. BH

Sunday 4 August 2013

BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra, Chorus of the Deutsche Oper Berlin, Donald Runnicles

Donald Runnicles is a past-master at bringing excitement to Wagner performances, and this was in evidence throughout an impassioned reading of Tannhauser, with exemplary orchestral textures and ravishing choral singing.

The edition used drew on the strengths of all available versions, uniting the full Venusberg music with the often cut choral sections and some minor characters. This allows us to wallow in the re-writing with its heady Tristanesque passages as well as enjoying the Weberlike passages in act two. I have never found this disparity problematic as it reflects the differences between the Landgrave’s conservative court and the potential anarchy of the Venusberg.

With so much so good, it was a pity that at the heart of the evening lay its one weakness. Robert Dean Smith was able to produce pleasant tone which was always in tune as Tannhauser, but his blandness and lack of involvement constantly undermined the electricity around him. In act one this was obvious in his confrontation with Daniela Sindram’s fiery Venus. It was difficult to understand what she saw in this lacklustre character and why he excited her passion. The presence of the many male soloists only made matters worse. Ain Anger provided a noble Landgrave whose authority was absolute, and Christoph Pohl a romantic Wolfram whose complexity of character was never in doubt. Under other circumstances O du, mein holder Abendstern would have merited applause! Thomas Blondelle sang so well as Walter one almost felt it a pity he had not swapped with the lead.

Heidi Melton’s Elizabeth carried easily over the orchestra, filling the hall with beautiful tone as she greeted it. In act two she had no difficulty dominating the ensemble, whereas Dean Smith was often lost. Her prayer in act three was moving as well as beautifully paced.

All soloists were cast from strength with a pure voiced shepherd from Hila Fahima.

Orchestral playing was exemplary througout with the off-stage brass adding the icing on the cake. The Chorus of the Deutsche Oper Berlin, singing without scores, brought great sensitivity, particularly to sections where they are techinically off-stage or moving in ways which require a change of dynamic intensity. Set alongside the other Wagner we have heard this summer this was a fine performance; it could so easily have been near perfect. BH

BBC National Orchestra of Wales, Thomas Sondergaard

Asked to name a handful of the world’s finest orchestras, the BBC National Orchestra of Wales might not spring immediately to mind, but on the strength of last night’s Prom they are up there with the best.

The evening moved from strength to strength opening with the relentless energy of Colin Matthew’s Turning Point, being given its UK premiere. There is an intense forward thrust in the scoring, much of which is for near full orchestra at full volume, though it meanders at times without any clear sense of potential outcome. Even the quieter, more reflective sections maintain the restless skittering of the opening. Though the final sections are more relaxed, the work never really loses its intensity or underlying anxiety.

Daniel Hope was the soloist in Prokofiev’s second violin concerto and one who knows the work from long experience. A consummately impassioned account, it opened with a rich melancholy which never really left us even in the earthier rustic quality of the final movement. The rapid changes of mood were precisely placed and musically convincing. The more relaxed joy of the second movement was kept in place by an acidic edge which prevented it becoming sentimental. This was a finely considered and yet passionate account of a work we hear all too rarely.

Shostakovich’s Symphony No 11 The Year 1905 has been heard frequently at the Proms but I doubt if it has been heard as well played as this for many years. The hushed opening and strident solo trumpet were a hint of glories to come, the rolling crescendos beautifully paced with subtle dynamic control across the large orchestra. The horn and brass choruses in the second movement excelled themselves, being fiery without ever becoming too raw. It was at about this point I suddenly realised I was in the Royal Albert Hall and was hearing the work with such clarity. Not long ago, writing of this complexity and density would have been lost in the booming acoustic but on this occasion the crispness of the intonation was unexpected and thrilling. This may not be the Birmingham Symphony Hall, but on this occasion it did not matter! The calmer third movement simply prepared us for the onslaught of the finale, with its great clang of bells and brass outbursts. Throughout, Thomas Sondergaard had nurtured the finest and most intimate of responses from his players and they responded with sublime professionalism. The reception was fully justified. How splendid to find that we do not have to travel the world to hear playing of this quality. BH

The concert was recorded for television for broadcast on BBC4 on Sunday 4 August.