More superlative performances in Esa-Pekka Salonen's Stravinsky series with the Philharmonia Orchestra. This series is much more than a series of concerts. It reaffirms Stravinsky's place as a man of the theatre. So much of Stravinsky's early work was choreographed for the Ballets Russes, so it would have been too obvious to present works as "ballet" because they all are! Instead, Salonen chooses, provocatively, to group works by underlying theme, reinforced where necessary with dancers, actors and visuals. This programme featured "Tales" – Renard (1916), Mavra (1922 ) and Les Noces (1923), works which emphasize Stravinsky as story teller, bringing together orchestra, dancers and singers to tell a tale. For my review of the concert "Faith" of late Stravinskt raities, please see HERE.
The story in Renard is universal, known in many languages and dating back to the early Middle Ages. The Fox is, literally, an "underdog", a wild creature who lives by his wits. Thus Stravinsky's jaunty, stabbing rhythms and repeated words, like "Kuda, kuda, kuda!" which lead to a more plaintive passage, not all that far away from pious plainchant: notice the voice sings alone, the winds and brass joining in only when the voice is in full flow. Then a drum roll and staccato woodwind. "oh ho ho ho" the voices sing in quirky goosestep, pitted against cajoling, curving lines. Perhaps Renard's descendants include Janáček's The Cunning Little Vixen, but Stravinsky's fox is more sinister. The cimbalom adds mystery. A high voice sings "Chut, chut, chut!". The lower voices shout "Oh ! oh ! Oh!". The Fox, with his waving legato, wiggles away. The orchestra marches in quirky quickstep. An energetic, idiomatic performance - nothing prettified.
No mistaking Stravinsky's Mavra (1922) for a large-scale opera in the grand Rusian manner: it's a tightly scored chamber miniature, whose plot pokes fun at overblown sensibilities. A woman mourns– the cook can't keep the kitchen in order. The fact that the cook's dead seems a minor rritation in comparison. The pace is fast, requiring deft touch and disciplined performance – no room here for approximation. When the daughter sings, her lines are undercut by tuba and trombone, blowing raspberries. She's no heroine, she wants a live-in boyfriend, not a cook. Although Mavra is a comedy, it's not funny. Perfect diction, presented with aplomb, from the singers, from the Mariinsky Theatre .
in St Petersburg,
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