The Dome, Brighton, Sunday 3 March 2019

In a rather refreshing change from the usual overture-concerto-symphony format, this seven work concert was themed on holidays and travel, starting with Mendelssohn in the Hebrides (suitably evocative) and ending in Rome with Tchaikovsky and the Capricccio Italien (nice tambourine duet). And the variety certainly brought the best out in the orchestra who were in rather good form under their Conductor Laureate, Barry Wordsworth.

The highlight for me was Hugo Alfven’s 1903 Swedish Rhapsody much of which I have known since primary school but have never before heard played live. It’s a very upbeat, tuneful celebration of Sweden in midsummer with lots of folksy tunes and is beautifully – wittily – orchestrated. Among the many solo spots the perfectly played bassoon passage was least expected and the most enjoyable. It was a good concert for the principal bassoon actually, because later he also delivered a sparkily immaculate solo in the Cherry Ripe section of Eric Coates’s London Suite – another splendid piece which doesn’t get enough outings.

Anatoly Lyadov (too lazy to get on with the Firebird commission so Diagelev asked the young Stravinsky instead, Wordsworth told the audience) is not a very familiar concert hall name but his Delius-like The Enchanted Lake came off well enough at this concert. It’s a very slow piece of programme music with lots of legato strings which is always a challenge. Wordsworth, now seated on a stool, conducted it with a lot of manual fluidity.

It’s a pleasure too to hear The Banks of Green Willow in a concert – always so poignant  because it is so redolent with wistful unfulfilled promise since Butterworth died at the Battle of the Somme aged 31. The oboe solo was especially lovely at this performance and Wordsworth brought out all the intangible “Englishness” which underlies the piece.

We also got two trains in this concert – to transport us in musical imagination from place to place. Honnegger’s Pacific 231 was evocatively played, extra percussionists having joined the orchestra, with masses of orchestral colour. Then finally the encore, Vivian Ellis’s very familiar Coronation Scott, whizzed us away on another train with lots of musical panache and ensured that we all left the dome with our heads rattling with jolly earworms.

Susan Elkin