Vivacious Schumann Symphonies 1 & 3, John Eliot Gardiner, LSO

John Eliot Gardiner's Schumann series with the London Symphony Orchestra, from the Barbican Hall, London in 2019, now available on CD. This recording captures the verve and spontaniety of live performance, which further enhances the vividness of expression.  Schumann's Symphony no 1 in B flat major,Op. 38, (1841) and his Symphony No. 3  in E flat major, Op. 97, (1850), together with the Overture to Manfred Op. 115 (1848). (For my review of Schumann Symphonies no 2 & 4 with Gardiner and the LSO, please see here)

Following on from Gardiner's Mendelssohn series with the LSO, this Schumann series presented Schumann as Early Romantic, his sensibilities shaped by Mendelssohn and Weber.  In the last few decades, the assumption that Schumann's orchestrations were "inept and clunky" and needed "fiddling and re-touching", to quote Gardiner, has long since been refuted, as musicians and audience have come to appreciate Schumann on his own terms, demonstrated by the number of performances and recordings in recent years inspired by this fresh approach. Gardiner's Schumann series with the LSO is significant because, more than most conductors, he comes from a background immersed in period style and aesthetics.  The London Symphony Orchestra doesn't use period instruments, but that in itself means much less than their understanding of the aesthetics of informed perfomance practice.

Having established his reputation as a composer of music for solo piano, Schumann turned to works for voice and piano, influenced in no small part by his marriage to Clara.  The glorious outpouring of his Liederjahre  saw the creation of masterpieces like Dichterliebe, where individual songs form a larger work internally connected by theme and form.  Appreciating Schumann's Symphony no 1 in this context helps us appreciate him as symphonist. The associations with Spring aren't merely descriptive, but may refer to the Early Romantic symbolism of Spring as purity, simplicity and the freshness of Nature. In four movements, the symphony is "classical" though the spirit is distictively individual.  The exuberant fanfare follows speech rhythms,  quoting a line from the poet Adolf Böttger, "Im Thale blüht der Frühling auf". The andante picks up to vigorous allegro molto vivace, ending with emphatic affirmation. This accentuates the restraint of the second movement, which briefly had the title "Evening".  The scherzo repeats the fanfare, this time more earthy, highlighting the charm of the two trios. "The fanastic, mercurial humour of Schumann's great solo piano cycles", says Gardiner, "is here recreated brilliantly in orchestral terms". The final movement quotes Schubert's C Major symphony, the "Great", whose manuscript Schumann had uncovered in Vienna in 1838, but, as Gardiner says, the slow horn and flute cadenzas are pure Schumann "and for a moment it seems a new world of magical possibility is opened up".

Gardiner's approach to Schumann's Symphony no 3, the "Rhenish", also brings out the connections between the symphony and Schumann's many songs, even more so than in the First Symphony. Given the central position of song in Schumann's ouevre, his sensitivity to poetry and visual images and his very personal identification with the Rhine, it is wise not to underestimate the song aspects of this symphony.  Indeed, one could suggest that Schumann's Third inhabits a place from which we can consider his search for new forms of music theatre, evolving from oratorio Das Paradies und die Peri  (Op 59, 1843) (please read more here) to Genoveva (1848)  (read more here)  an opera that is more Weber than Wagner.  Is Schumann 3 song in symphonic form ? John  Daverio, the most intuitive of Schumann scholars, felt that text was integral to the music far more deeply than in the sense of word-painting. Schumann liked the shape of syntax, the rhythms of declamation. Schumann's music drama is only "difficult" if we expect it to evolve like Wagner, with conventional narrative. Instead, it's closer to abstract, conceptual art. In this performance, Gardiner and the LSO illuminated the colours, evoking the magic of the worlds of Weber, Mendelssohn and Singspiel tradition.  Lightness of touch, and freedom, are thus integral to interpretation.

Schumann's Symphony no 3 was inspired by an interlude of great happiness, when Robert and Clara took a holiday along the Rhine, both of them acutely aware of its symbolism and place in  Schumann's songs, such as "Berg’ und Burgen schaun herunter" from Liederkreis op 24, and the verse, from Heine :
"Freundlich grüssend und verheißend
Lockt hinab des Stromes Pracht;
Doch ich kenn’ ihn, oben gleißend,
Birgt sein Innres Tod und Nacht.!"

In a sense Schumann's third symphony is almost autobiographical, as if the composer were looking back at the high points in his career.  Gardiner and the LSO articulated the sparkling figures in the opening movement so they flowed, like a river, sunny but with darker undercurrents hinted at in the strong chords in the second theme, and the quieter passages in its wake. This coloured the second movement, suggesting the scherzo qualities behind the surface. There are echoes of folk dance, evoking the vigour of peasant life, but Schumann doesn't tarry. Bassoons, horns and trumpets called forth, the movement, ending on an elusive note.  The movement marked "Nicht schnell" was gracefully poised: as an intermezzo it connects the happiness of the Lebhaft  movement with what is to come. The solemn pace of the fourth movement marked "Feierlich" may describe a ceremony the Schumanns witnessed in Cologne Cathedral, but its musical antecedents can be traced to other sources, such as the song "Im Rhein, im heiligen Strome" from Dichterliebe.  The size of the cathedral, and the reverberations within it are suggested by the figures (trombones, trumpets, bassoons) which stretch out as if filling vast spaces. With Gardiner's clear textures the motif suggesting a cathedral organ was very distinct.  Whateverv the movement may or may not mean, the muffled horns and brass fanfares evoke a power that is very far from the insouciant quasi-folk tunes that have gone before. Yet Schumann concludes not with gloom but with a reprise of the sunny Lebhaft, the emphatic chords even stronger than before, this time lit up by a glorious fanfare, the brass shining above the strings below. The very image of the Rhine surging past towering mountains. Since we now know of Schumann's suicide attempt, this adds depth to our response.

Gardiner and the LSO make further connections by pairing Schumann's Third with his Overture to Manfred. In Byron's poem, Manfred is doomed, "half dust, half deity" driven mad by some unknown guilt, possibly incest, which in Byron's case may have been true. To German readers, there would have been echoes of Goethe's Wilhelm Meister.  Schumann's emotional extremes had been apparent at an early age, and his sister had committed suicide in her youth. Mendelssohn, whom Schumann revered, had died in 1847 while still in his prime. The Overture begins with majestic upward chords, rising like mountains, quintessential Early Romantic symbols on many levels, undercut by plaintive woodwinds and strings. As Gardiner points out, "the dark key E flat minor is particularly challenging for strings, yet the sense of strain this creates adds to the intensity".  Schumann's orchestration is so well defined that, in the eleven minutes of the Overture alone, he captures surging turmoil and psychic upheaval.

John Eliot Gardiner, LSO - Schumann, the Early Romantic

Sir John Eliot Gardiner conducts Schumann's Symphony no 2 in C major, Op. 61 (1847) and Symphony no 4 in D minoir (Op 120) with the London Symphony Orchestra, now available on the LSO label. In the past few decades, there has been a sea change in the reception of Schumann's music, particularly of the later works and of the symphonies. Schumann died young, just as Wagner's reputation was in the ascendant, a factor colouring public reception. Imagine if Schumann had lived to counterbalance Wagner ?

In more recent decades, there has been a sea change in Schumann reception,  based on a greater appreciation of the composer's influences and the aesthetic of his time. This focuses on Schumann's individuality and true originality, his later works and the symphonies benefiting from more sensitive performance practice.  Gardiner's approach highlights the energy in Schumann, deriving from the values of individuality and freedom that characterized the Early Romantic period.  At the Barbican, Kristian Bezuidenhout. playing a pianoforte from 1837 by Sébastien Érard, with leather hammers covered in felt, very similar to the instrument Mendelssohn used, demonstated sounds that affected the compositional process.  "There is a textural topography to these instruments" he said "Every register has a characteristic voice....moving from bass to tenor, and above, where the piano sounds similar to the harp".  Hence the brighter, livelier textures, and "singing" lines, agility and flexibility that characterize the approach which Gardiner and more recent conductors value in Schumann.

Here Gardiner presents Schumann's symphonies framed in the context of his Overture to Genoveva (Op 81, 1850) which Schumann started writing in 1847, around the time that his  Symphony no 2 in C major (Op 61, 1847) was completed. The original folk tale on which Genoveva is based dates back to the Middle Ages. Indeed it’s the basis of stories like Snow White ! In legend, Genoveva lived in the forest, protecteda by animals and by her virtue. Significantly, though, Schumann rejected the medieval concept, choosing instead to base his opera on Friedrich Hebbel’s more psychological drama, published only four years previously. Schumann wanted a “modern” take on the story, possibly exploring a new form of music theatre, as he was doing with works like Die Paradis et das Péri and Szenen aus Goethe's Faust.  As Hebbel said “Any drama will come alive only to the extent that it expresses the spirit of the age which brings it forth”.  Gardiner creates the inherent drama in the piece and its very non-Wagnerian transparency.  The glowing colours build up like a chorale, then into the themes in the opera, before the final fanfare, in the way that successive proscenia in a theatre add depth to a flat stage.

In Schumann's Symphony no 2 Gardiner shaped the brass, without stridency, the "brassiness" muted and dignified, integrating well with the bassoons, winds and strings. How poignant the horns and winds sounded, evoking Nature, hinting at the forest imagery so close to the heart of the Romantic imagination.  The Scherzo is particularly animated, notes seeming to fly in fiendishly complex patterns, though sharply defined.  A delicate yet purposeful Adagio, Gardiner bringing out details  which reminded me of the strange enchantment in Mendelssohn's A Midsummer Night's Dream.  A brave, afffirmative last movement, undercut by the moody bassoon from the Adagio, which Schumann told a friend was the point at which he heard his "half sickness" calling him.  Nonetheless, the composer had a "special fondness"  for this strange melancholy, which infused even the happiest moments of his life. Wisely, Gardiner understands why serene passages mix with quirky moments : smoothing them out would diminish the personality in the music, and in the composer himself.

For Schumann's Symphony no 4, Gardiner chose the original 1841 version rather than the published version of 1851.  The first version was panned by critics at the time, while the revision, more audience-friendly, proved more popular.  Given Gardiner's emphasis on Schumann's originality, this was a wise choice.  The raw energy in this performance is thrilling - Schumann without censorship, so to speak.  In the first movement, andante moves swiftly to allegro, ending with emphatic punch, makingthe transition from major to minor in the Romanza even more unsettling. The oboe-cello melody may be a form of love song  since this was Schumann's Liederjahre, a period of happinesss and creativity, after years struggling to win Clara.  Here, it feels shaded by melancholy, echoes of  Dichterliebe mixing joy with anxiety, the violin melody offering tantalizing hope. In the Largo, magnificent long lines are briefly interrupted by brisk dotted rhythms, before low timbred brass signals change.  The dichotomy of long chords and brisk notes is resolved in a vivid Allegro vivace, which here marches, then hurtles exuberantly to a flourish.  In the live concert, Gardiner didn't pause between movements, so the symphony flowed freely, connecting themes giving shape to the whole, as inspired as Schumann must have felt in that year in which his creative powers surged without restraint. Gardiner has performed and recorded Schumann's symphonies many times,  and this latest release, with the London Symphony Orchestra shows how well they respond to his dynamic approach.    

Transcendent Simon Rattle : Messiaen Éclairs sur l’Au-delà, LSO Barbican

Sir Simon Rattle conducted Messiaen Éclairs sur l’Au-delà with the London Symphony Orchestra at the Barbican, London, an even bigger occasion for some than the previous night's season opener, an all-British gala featuring Emily Howard, Colin Matthews and William Walton. (Please see Robert Hugill's review here). Rattle's British music credentials are very strong indeed. He's close to Matthews and has done lots of Walton. (Please read my review of Rattle conducting Walton's Belshazzar's Feast with the LSO just a few weeks ago). Rattle's committment to Olivier Messiaen is even stronger. British audiences took to Messiaen very early on, to the extent that he's influenced British music (think George Benjamin)  and Rattle was one of the first to bring Messiaen's larger scale works to mass attention. He conducted Éclairs sur l’Au-delà when he was with the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra (his recording is one of the better ones, bar Myunwhun Chung, both eclipsing by far Zubin Mehta's prosaic approach). Later he did Éclairs sur l’Au-delà with the Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra.  Quite probably Éclairs sur l’Au-delà  is a Rattle signature piece not only because he likes doing it but because he understands Messiaen's unorthodox sensibility. With Messiaen, you need to share Messiaen's wonder at the miracle of life, and value the humility (and humour) behind the majestic extravaganzas.

Not for nothing does the traverse begin with the Apparition du Christ glorieux where long brass lines stretch as if into infinity. Rattle makes them glow : think of the rays of light which illuminate images of Christ risen from the dead.  Literally, lightning over the world. To a practicising Catholic like Messiaen, that's the central message of faith : "For God so loved the world he gave his only-begotten Son". Hence the shimmering but steady pace, firmly defined, without sentimentality. This section is amplified by the two which follow, La constellation du Sagittaire and L’oiseau-lyre et la ville-fiancée. One evokes the constellations in the universe, with powerful chords whose metallic resonance suggests great distances and things not of this earth, preparing us for the lively dance of the lyrebirds. Messiaen's use of birdsong is not novelty, but rooted firmly in his core beliefs about the cosmos. Birds, he said, descended from dinosaurs, and have been on this planet longer than man. The thousands of species attest to the variety of evolution.  Jerky, quirky figures, darted at wild angles : the movement of birds, closely observed by an man who spent his life learning from them - yes, learning, for Messiaen was humble. To him, even the smallest  and most vulnerable creatures had value because they reflected the Creator's love for the pure and fragile. Rattle understands the freedom and originality in this music and the way it transcends conventional form. Messiaen's students were taught to think for themselves and to create, not to be tied to rigid formulae.

In Les élus marqués du sceau, referring to the Book of Revelation and its prophecy of survival in the Apocalypse. Nothing triumphalist here, for Messiaen or for Rattle. Swirling textures with bittersweet details. The serenity of Demeurer dans l’amour suggests redemption to come.  Nothing "romantic" in this love, for it is divine love, between mankind and a higher power.

The fanfares of  Les Sept Anges aux sept trompettes represent the seven angles with seven trumpets who appear at the End of Time, when the earth is rent asunder.  Wooden, hollow, metallic sounds, thudding percussion, crashing gongs. Rattle understands the conection between Éclairs sur l’Au-delà  and Et exspecto resurrectionem mortuorum, another work which he has conducted memnorably many times.  (Please read my review of one Rattle performance, though I've written extensively on the piece). This gives context to the next section, Et Dieu essuiera toute larme de leurs yeux.  From near silence, the sound of birdsong in the winds, and rustling vibrations in the strings.  (Remember the symbolism of birds to Messiaen). A vaguely hymn-like anthem on horns was cut across by the liveliness of the solo flute, sparkling with freshness and freedom.  The birds in this section refer to the idea of evolution, dinosaurs being reborn as birds. A tender, loving performance by the LSO principals.

After this interlude, Messiaen returns to the heavens with Les étoiles et la gloire, in their majesty, and then back to the birds with Plusieurs oiseaux des arbres de vie.  From the lowest timbres in the orchestra came brighter outbursts, exploratory figures growing in confidence, cheered by tiny bird-like figures in the winds and percussion (songs and darting rhythms).  Typically Messiaen zany exuberance.  The reference in Plusieurs oiseaux des arbres de vie is to the image of Christ and the Tree of Life, filled with birds : an image of growth and renewal, shelter and abundant life.  Again, humour, with a  slightly comical passage, which may perhaps represents the ghosts of clumsy dinosaurs, now born again.

With the drama of Le chemin de l’invisible, the symphony continues on its journey. And a symphony it is, despite its eleven sections which together form a traverse towards a resolution.  Angular, wild rhythms, like the movemnts of many birds rushing en masse, fanfares and long, circular arcs suggesting ebb and flow. Rattle doesn't lose sight of the destination. The lush textures were propelled by a sense of movement, unrushed but untoppable. Éclairs sur l’Au-delà was Messiaen's last major work, written as he approached the end of his life. This affects interpretation : miss this and miss the whole point.  Ever a realist, Messiaen understood mortality, but, imbued by faith, he contemplated the future. Unlike Et exspecto resurrectionem mortuorum which ponders the fate of mankind, Éclairs sur l’Au-delà is personal : a man facing what is to come to all, no matter how exalted. That's why I like Rattle's Messiaen, because  it's human scale, and humane. Le chemin de l'invisble ends with a crash but leads to Le Christ, lumière du Paradis, with which Éclairs sur l’Au-delà  began.  Full cycle, alpha and omega. This structure matters, given Messiaen's faith.  No-one wants to die, everyone worries about the unknown and leaving those one loves, but Messiaen drew comfort from the idea that death is not an end but a kind of rebirth, and union with God.  In the serenity of this final section, the long lines evoked eternity, horizons without end. The LSO strings seemed to shimmer with a preternatural glow, Rattle always aware of the transfiguration that would have meant so much to the composer.  Whatever ones' own beliefs, this is powerfully spiritual, and Rattle's approach deeply convincing. 

Ravel at the Barbican - François-Xavier Roth London Symphony Orchestra

An all-Ravel concert with François-Xavier Roth and the London Symphony Orchestra.at the   Barbican Hall, London.  Rapsodie espagnole, Boléro and L'heure espagnole :  "Spanish" spice, but to describe it thus would be painfully superficial. Boléro, of course, was the crowd pleaser, because it's fun and everyone knows it.  But this was yet another intelligently planned programme which emphasized the underlying musical concepts.

The Rapsodie espagnole (1908) was exceptionally refined. The first theme of the Prélude à la nuit,  played with such poise that it seemed to oscillate. Yet beneath these transparent hues, steady, purposeful rhythms. Immediately, connections with L'heure espagnole, (1911) written in the same period.  Not for nothing is Torquemada a clockmaker! In both pieces, rhytms tick quietly but with persistence, forming a bedrock for more flamboyant invention.  Watch out when the rhythms go awry.  Thus the dance forms which form the inner movements, the Malagueña and the Habanera. Dance is disciplined movement, dancers following structure to express emotion.  In the Feria this tension between restraint and freedom breaks through: burgeoning crescendoes, lit by cymbalas, note sequences that descend and rise again.  Boléro got the wildest applause, and a standing ovation, because it’s a showstopper, but the sheer quality of the LSO's playing in Rapsodieespagnole  was far higher.

Luxury casting for Ravel's L'heure espagnole: Isabelle Druet, Jean-Paul Fouchécourt, Thomas Dolié, Edgaras Montvidas and Nicolas Cavallier.  Hearing it in concert performance illuminates the orchestral logic which underpins the plot.  The clocks are invisible, but they're everywhere - ticking relentlessly, imposing form on time, the way dance inmposes form on motion.  En masse, they can be manic.  Torquemada (Fouchécourt) is regulated by machines, which is why Concepción (Druet) needs to find human pleasures elswhere.  But with whom ? Gonsalves (Montvidas) is romantic but he's a bad poet, as his music suggests : overipe flourishes that go awry.  It takes a good singer like Montvidas to make you realize that Ravel is satirizing cliché, much in the way that Wagner wrote Beckmesser's song.  Gonsalves doesn't have what it takes, anymore. Gomez (Cavallier) at least can provide other delights. The real hero is Ramiro (Dolié) who understands that clocks have minds, and that women have minds as well.  But nothing goes quite to plan.  Bassoons blow rude raspberrries. Tight rhythms deliberately come apart, each clock slightly out of synch. Boléro too is a study of sequences and rhythmic patterns. Again, this requires much more skill from players (and listeners), which can be hidden even in a good staged performance.  

What a pity that these good performances were spoiled by some in the audience.  I kid you not but someone kept rummaging through various bags throughout the evening,. Fidgetting is OK and normal but this was not. Eventually the person took off her boots, then her socks  Repeatedly, she put her hands in her mouth and massaged her feet, then wiped her bare feet on the Barbican floor.  The ushers tried their best but there was no stopping someone like this. Thank goodness the concert was recorded and will be broadcast on BBC Radio 3 on 30th April 

 Photos: Roger Thomas 

Haitink at 90 - Dvořák. Mahler 4, LSO Barbican

Bernard Haitink, Isabelle Faust, London Symphony Orchestra   photo: Roger Thomas

 Bernard Haitink and the London Symphony Orchestra at the Barbican, marking the conductor's 90th birthday, and his long association with the LSO and with London. This second concert featured Antonín Dvořák Violin Concerto in A minor, Op. 53 (B.108),with Isabelle Faust with Gustav Mahler Symphony no 4 in G major.  Good companions ! Dvořák's Violin Concerto isn't a typical concerto, flowing almost like a series of variations.  But then Mahler's Symphony no 4 isn't typical either, progressing towards a final movement built on a song.  How well these two pieces work together, enhancing each other! This programme was as thoughtfully constructed as Sunday's concert with Mozart Piano Concerto with Till Fellner and Bruckner Symphony no 4  (Please read more here).

A superb Dvořák Violin Concerto, the orchestra alive from the first downstroke, from which the main theme quickly materialized. Here the effect was almost magical, the high, bright timbre of Faust's violin singing like a spirit of nature. Faust was playing with a freedom that imbued the piece with youthful freshness and vigour. More connections between the concerto and the symphony in which a child sings of heavenly pleasures.  Energetic rhythms contrast with lyrical, song-like lines, suggestions of folk dance adding pastoral flavour. I blissed out.

This Dvořák served as an overture for Mahler's Symphony no 4 setting the context.  Haitink proceeded with gusto, capturing the energy in the first movement.  Though sleigh bells feature prominently, this isn't a literal depiction of a sleigh in a wintry landscape.  Rather it is a metaphor for life. The sleigh bells aren't there just as folksy decoration.  A sleigh ride is a journey with a destination.  No cars in Mahler's time, so if you wanted horsepower,  horses were where it was at.  Trains might have been faster, but horses are living creatures, a significant image in a symphony which deals with life and physical enjoyment.  The first movement  connects inexorably to the last, where earthly life may be over, but heavenly life continues.  Haitink knows why speed alone isn't essential.  Mahler's marking is "Bedächtig, nicht eilen"  ie not mad rush but orderly progression.  Change is inevitable but we want to enjoy what we can, while we can.

The transition to the second movement marked a new stage in the journey. Haitink defined the dance-like figures, making connections to the Ländler to come.  Another good reason for connectingb the symphony with Dvořák's Violin Concerto where the series of figures evoke dance. Though Mahler came from a German-speaking community, socially distinct from the Bohemians among which they lived, the influence of Czech forms on his music needs to be better understood, especially since as a conductor he conducted much Czech repertoire.  At first the solo violin sings alone, then is joined by other instruments. The leader doesn't use two violins for nothing (George Tudorache, Guest Leader).  Sometimes there can be more malevolence in the scherzo, the "Freund' Hein" imagery evoking the medieval dance of death.   In this case, however, the malevolence was understated but subtlety is no demerit : no mistaking the chill that sets in when the strings in the ensemble shiver, suggesting cutting winds (sleigh-ride imagery again), and also the circular figures that follow, again emphazing cyclic change.  The horns defined "winds" of change and a change of mood but the third movement, marked Ruhevoll,  is the real transition, a purgatory in which the issues of death are resolved into a more perfect "heavenly life".Thus the calm but determined pace and the repeated "waves" of sound.  Horns and winds here were impressive, coloured in Dvořák hues.  An excellent  climax, timpani pounding, horns blazing, the strings shining, the harps adding heavenly light, sustained woodwind lines calling out into space.  Whatever this represents, it is the transitional point in the symphony, claering away the past. Again, Haitink showed how it's not volume per se that counts but the hint that a new future awaits ahead
Haitink has probably conducted more Mahler than anyone else : not to know Haitink's Mahler is not to know Mahler.  His less-is-more conducting style eschews bombast, but is ideally attuned to the sensitivity that reveals Mahler's greatest depths.  There can be many ways of interpreting the final movement, but so much pivots on the singer.  The voice should be pure enough to suggest a child, though no child has the heft to sing with such power for roughly 15 minutes with barely a break.  The song expresses happiness so complete that it verges on ecstasy, but thius ecstasy has been won at the expense of tragedy. The child in the text is dead, whether killed by starvation, or from disasters like the ill-fated Crusade of St. Ursula   Singers with clear, high timbres can create the angelic aspects of the piece but physical sensuality is also part of the mix : "Wir genießen die himmlischen Freuden," Das himmlisches Leben isn't an easy sing,  by any means.
Sally Matthews substituted earlier in the week for the scheduled soloist, Anna-Luisa Richter, who has been described as "a young Elly Ameling". Sally Matthews sang the soprano part in Haitink's Munich Beethoven Symphony no 9, in February, but the soprano part in Mahler 's Symphony no 4 is an altogether different prospect.  Up to this point, Haitink and the LSO had been creating a Mahler 4 of exquaite refinement and delicacy, but the singing here didn't connect.  This interpretation was more sturdy school hymn than divine transfiguration. Whatever the technical faults, what matters above all else is the expression of meaning. If being reborn on a more rarified, heavenly plane isn't exciting what then is the point of surviving death? Haitink has done many wonderful Mahler Fourths over the last 60 years. As a Mahler conductor, he is unique and greatly cherished. A pity then that this last section was so unsatisfying, leaving us hungering for what could have been.  

Refreshed and reinvigorated : Haitink at 90 - Mozart, Bruckner

Bernard Haitink, LSO 10/3/19 photo : Sylvia Haotong Wong

Bernard Haitink at 90 : honoured by the London Symphony Orchestra at the Barbicua, London: as honour for the audience, too, not only in the hall but internationally, online.  A true Haitink programme : Mozart Piano Concerto no 22 with Till Fellner, and Bruckner Symphony no 4.  Haitink was looking much less exhausted than he did in Munich (Please read more here) where he had conducted several concerts in a row : at 90, anyone deserves a rest !  Most people couldn't conduct like this, even in their dreams.   A truly classic performance, with the depth and sensitivity that are hallmarks of Haitink's style, where the music shines, not the conductor. Haitink channels the composer, inspiring his players to give of their best.

Absolute poise from Fellner, the richness in his playing adding sparkle, supported by the LSO. This is what "classical balance" means : equanimity, elegance, civilization. Virtues which in these venal, mendacious times we need to cherish all the more.  Not long ago someone said to me "No-one listens any more to Mozart and Bach". I thought, "No wonder trolls are taking over the world".   Haitink reminds us that sensitivity and intelligence are what make us decent human beings.  In that context, Haitink's Bruckner shone with the nobility one might associate with Beethoven, warmed by the humility that lies at the heart of Bruckner.  This symphony is like a cathedral : beautifully shaped and proportioned, with little personal quirks embedded, all dedicated in the service oif some higher power, whether that power is God, or music itself.  I'm noit 90 - yet - but I came away refreshed and reinvigorated.

Can't wait til Thursday when Haitink returns to the LSO with Dvořák Piano Concerto (Isabelle Faust, another Haitink regular) and Mahler Symphony no 4 (Anna-Lucia Richter, whose first London recital I heard at the Wigmore Hall way back when - she's proved her promise! I will write more about her Schubert CD Heimweh, shortly)

The Wit of HIP : J E Gardiner, LSO Schumann series, Barbican

John Eliot Gardiner conducted the London Symphony Orchestra in the third concert of their Schumann series at the Barbican Hall, London.  A coherent programme - Carl Maria von Weber Overture to Euryanthe, Mendelssohn Concerto for violin and piano (Isabelle Faust and Kristian Bezuidenhout) building up to Schumann Symphony no 3 (The "Rhenish"). This is what "historically informed performance " means: understanding music as music, in context and on its own terms.  Respecting the composer as far as possible, not smothering him with a fire blanket of audience expectations.  Nothing wrong with expectations formed in the 1950's and 60's for something to put on the brand new turntable. But there's so much more to music than that. Gardiner shows how fresh and vital Weber, Mendelsssohn and Schumann can sound, nearly 200 years after they were "new".

Weber's Overture to Euryanthe began with vivid attack. The early Romantics were fearless, exploring audacious new ideas.  There's nothing timid about the opera Euryanthe. Indeed its bizarre plot makes it almost impossible to stage (fire-breathing dragons, long before Wagner). All the more reason we must appreciate the technical limitations with which Weber created the drama. Natural horns : reminding us of a time when people hunted in order to eat, where Nature represented danger. That the strings have to try harder is the whole point !  The solo violin melody reminds us how vulnerable mortals are against the unknown, yet bravely they persist. That also justifies the practice of getting the musicians to stand while playing. It's not novelty. The sound is subtler and more human.  Modern audiences need to get over being conditioned to very late performance practice and much larger forces and respect what went into the music in the first place. Conductors stand throughout a performance, and if Gardiner, who is 75, can do it, most players can. The greater freedom of movement comes through in greater freedom of expression, and greater engagement between members of the ensemble, who seem to listen to each other more than they might do otherwise.

That aesthetic of chamber communality also informs Mendelssohn 's Double Concerto for Piano, Violin, and Strings in D minor, MWV O4 (1823), where the LSO were joined by Isabelle Faust and Kristian Bezuidenhout.  Mendelssohn was just fourteen when he wrote this, but its restraint connects to his background and to the influence of his grand-aunt Sarah Levy, a musician whose recitals championed the music of Bach.  Bezuidenhout played a pianoforte from 1837 by Sébastien Érard, with leather hammers covered in felt. "There is a textural topography to these instruments" said Bezuidenhout in an interview before the concert, which is well worth listening to on the replay of the livestream here, because he demostrates with examples. "Every register has a characteristic voice....moving from bass to tenor, and above, where the piano sounds similar to the harp".  Mendelssohn worked so closely with the instrument that Bezuidenhout believes that it shaped his compositional processes, allowing him to experiment with what the instrument could offer.  Hearing the Érard did make a diffrence. Textures were lighter and livelier, colours brighter and more nuanced.  Faust's playing (a 1724 Stradivarius) picked up on the greater freedom and vivacity,  which in turn extended to the orchestra.  Altogether a unique experience, further proof that well-informed performance practice can be revelation.

A vigorous Schumann Symphony No. 3 in E-flat major, Op. 97,(1850). Given the central position of song in Schumann's ouevre, his sensitivity to poetry and visual images and his very personal identification with the Rhine, it is wise not to underestimate the programmatic aspects of this symphony, even though this might not appeal to modern assumptions about what a symphony should be.  Indeed, one could suggest that Schumann's Third inhabits a place from which we can consider his search for new forms of music theatre, evolving from oratorio Das Paradies und die Peri  (Op 59, 1843) (please read more here) to Genoveva (1848)  (read more here)  an opera that is more Weber than Wagner.  Is Schumann 3 music theatre in symphonic form ?  Hearing it in the context of Weber and Mendelsson, who didn't write opera but wrote incidental music of genius,  we can hear how the drama in this symphony affects interpretation.

Gardiner's period approach reflects German Romantic music theatre before the revolution that was Richard Wagner.  Here the colours glowed, evoking the magic of the worlds of Weber, Mendelssohn and Singspiel tradition.  Not all magic is malevolent,. This last of Schumann's symphonies was inspired by an interlude of great happiness, when Robert and Clara took a holiday along the Rhine, both of them acutely aware of its symbolism and place in  Schumann's songs, such as "Berg’ und Burgen schaun herunter" from Liederkreis op 24, and the verse, from Heine :

"Freundlich grüssend und verheißend
Lockt hinab des Stromes Pracht;
Doch ich kenn’ ihn, oben gleißend,
Birgt sein Innres Tod und Nacht.!"

Gardiner and the LSO articulated the sparkling figures in the opening movement so they flowed , like a river, sunny but with darker undercurrents hinted at in the strong chords in the second theme, and the quieter passages in its wake. This coloured the second movement, suggesting the scherzo qualities behind the surface. There are echoes of folk dance, evoking the vigour of peasant life, but Schumann doesn't tarry. Bassoons, horns and trumpets called forth, the movement ending on an elusive note.  The movement marked "Nicht schnell" was gracefully poised: as an intermezzo it connects the happiness of the Lebhaft movement with what is to come. The solemn pace of the fourth movement marked "Feierlich" may describe a ceremony the Schumanns witnessed in Cologne Cathedral, but its musical antecednts can be traced to other sources, such as the song "Im Rhein, im heiligen Strome" from Dichterliebe.  The size of the cathedral, and the reverberations within it are suggested by the figures (trombones, trumpets, bassoons) which stretch out as if filling vast spaces. With Gardiner's clear textures the motif suggesting a cathedral organ was very distinct.  Whateverv the movement may or may not mean, the muffled horns and brass fanfares evoke a power that is very far from the insouciant quasi-folk tunes that have gone before.  Yet Schumann concludes not with gloom but with a reprise of the sunny Lebhaft, the emphatic chords even stronger than before, this time lit up by a glorious fanfare, the brass shining above the strings below. The very image of the Rhine surging past towering mountains.

On Sunday 10th February, Gardiner and the LSO will do their last concert in this Barbican Schumann series, with Schumann's Symphony no 1 and the Manfred Overture (tickets here)  To read about their first concert, with Schumann Symphony no 2 in C major op 61 (1847) and the Overture to Genoveva with Berlioz Les nuits d'été, please read HERE.

Wickedly idiomatic Carl Nielsen - Rattle, LSO Abrahamsen

Simon Rattle and the London Symphony Orchestra at the Barbican in Sibelius Symphony no 7, Hans Abrahamsen's Let Me Tell You (with Barbara Hannigan) and Carl Nielsen Symphony no 4 .  Rattle has conducted one of the finest Sibelius 7th's on record, and done it live numerous times, so no surprises expected : this was good, but the real fun was yet to come.
Rattle conducted Hans Abrahamsen's Let Me Tell You better than most of the many who have conducted the piece over the last few years, which is saying something, since it's been done so often and by so many.  Just as  Sibelius was cursed by the popularity of Valse triste at the expensen of his more substantial work, Let Me Tell You has become the curse of Abrahamsen.  Contemporary music for those who don't like contemporary music !  At roughly 35 minutes, it's longer than all the vocal music put together that Abrahamsen has written in his long and productive career.  It's good enough but not typical of his greatest work.   Let Me Tell You was created as a vehicle for Barbara Hannigan, so it fits her voice so well that she could be singing it well into later years.  Not that there were any problems here : she's nailed it so perfectly that she hardly needs to do much more.  The fans have come for her,  and her persona.  Rattle, on the other hand, made the orchestra sing , revealing the beauty in the music itself. : shimmering, liquid lines that flow and circulate, wrapping round the voice.  this l;oveliness is poison : Ophelia kills herself by drowning, throwing herself into the vortex of a stream.  Syllables fragment and reform, like droplets of water reflected in light - wonderfully delicate textures created by harp, celeste, and percussion with tubular bells and tiny wooden objects scraped and beaten, making sounds like grasses blowing in the wind. Sounds of nature, too subtle and too elusive to identify, reminiscent of Abrahamsen's greatest works like Schnee and Wald, though Hannigan takes precedence.   "Music is pictures of music", Abrahamsen once said. "That is a strong underlying element in my world of ideas when I compose - as is the fictional aspect that one moves around in an imaginary space of music. What one hears is pictures - basically, music is already there."   In Let Me Tell You, Abrahamsen collaborated with Paul Griffiths, the author and music historian, whose books on modern music are still, after 30 years, the best informed. In comparison, The Rest is Noise is Reader's Digest.

The revelation of the evening was Rattle's appoach to Carl Nielsen's Symphony no 4 op 29, The "Unextinguishable"  (Det Uudslukkelige). This, too, is a staple in Rattle's repertoire, but this performance was inspired.   The sharp attack in the opening bars contrasted with the lyrical first theme, zig zag chords introducing a more vigorous theme, produced here with a swagger, followed by quieter figures, like prancing footsteps. Sassy, expansive figures against moodier passages, exuberance underlined by percussion, winds and brass.  I thought of the series of photographs Nielsen was so proud of, where he grins and grimaces and hams up for the camera (see more here).  The Four (and more) Temperaments ! Just when we're getting into Nielsen's zany vibe, he slips into an elusive mood.   If the symphony deals with the concept of life inextinguishable, it is presented in infinite variety, though the same basic ideas evolve and proliferate, like units in Mandelbrot diagrams,  Nielsen anticipating later composers, even Boulez. The third movement, marked poco adagio quasi andante, wasn't a leisurely stroll, but purposeful.  Woodwinds called, and the strings sprang back to life.  Rattle drew forth an almost bluesy quality from the orchestra which was prescient, given that, even in wartime, one might sense a future where new influences might enliven the mix.  For a moment dark forces emerged :  percussion like gunfire, brass screaming tension, but gradually these gave way to joyous conclusion.  Nothing sentimental or escapist about this despite the vaguely MGM drum rolls. That wasn't Nielsen's style, quirky and defiant as he was. Wonderful, precise playing from the LSO who respond to Rattle better than they do for nearly anyone else.

Rattle LSO Barbican - Janáček Szymanowski Sibelius

Sir Simon Rattle and the London Symphony Orchestra at the Barbican Hall with Janáček’s Sinfonietta, Sibelius Symphony no 5 and Szymanowkski 's Violin Concerto with Janine Jansen, following on from Sunday’s season opener where Rattle and the LSO did Birtwistle, Holst, Turnage and Benjamin Britten.  Please read more about that first concert in my review HERE which was a wonderful experience.  As always, with Rattle, intelligent, thoughtful programming.  Just as the thread in the first concert was "New Music Britain" linking Holst, Birtwistle, Britten and Turnage, the thread in this second concert might have been "Britain and New Music in Europe".  Janáček and Sibelius had huge followings in Britain from very early on, and Szymanowski became a Szymanowski hot spot more than 30 years ago, almost entirely thanks to Rattle's early championship.
Janáček, Szymanowski and Sibelius - three Rattle specilaities upon whom much of his reputation is based.

How I wish that I'd been able to get to both conecrts, since the LSO live broadcast omitted Syzmanowski, which I'd been looking forward to.  Rattle, who learned his Szymanowski from Witold Lutoslawski, made Britain a Szymanowski hot spot more than 30 years ago, when the Communists still controlled Poland, and weren't giving the composer the recognition he enjoys today.  Rattle's recordings are still the leaders in the field : you need to know them to fully appreciate the composer. So my regret at not hearing Jansen in the Violin Concerto is tempered by knowing there are alternatives.  She's done the piece many times, including with Rattle and with the LSO.  

Rosa Newmarch, a great musicologist, was aware of Janáček amost before he found his own instinctive voice as a composer late in life, promoting him passionately in Britain,sponsoring his visit to London in 1926.  In return, Janáček rededicated the Sinfonietta in her honour.  A precedent was established. Only ten years later Vítězslava Kaprálová, aged only 22, was invited to London to conduct her own Military Sinfonietta with the BBC Symphony Orchestra, a work which pays direct homage to Janáček, at a time when Czechoslovakia was being threatened by the Nazi regime.  Later Rafael Kubelík was to revive interest in Janáček at the Royal Opera House.  Rosa Newmarch was an extraordinarily influential person, working tirelessly for what she cared about and she  herself deserves to be given greater acknowkedgement.  Please try and get to the Oxford Lieder Festival on 16th October to hear Philip Ross Bullock speak about Newmarch, Janáček and the music of Bohemia, Moravia and Slovakia. It's followed by a recital of Janáček's seminally important Diary of One who Disappeared, with Toby Spence and Julius Drake. Please read more here.

The fanfare with which Janáček’s Sinfonietta begins was bracingly bright, the row of trumpeters aligned at the back of the orchestra a blazing sight. Though the piece was initially written to celebrate Czechoslovakia's military, it is as much about freedom and free spirits as about the military.  The sharpness of Rattle's attack heralded the transition to woodwind melodies, reminiscent of the pipes in a military band, but also reminscent of the sounds of the countryside.  Rattle's approach on this occasion (he's conducted it many times) was vivacious, very open-air.  I specially liked the way the fanfare resurfaced, with warmth and vigour rather than brass for the sake of brass.  Long string lines floated over resolute foundations, describing the buildings that loom over the city, making a nice contrast with the fourth movement where the trumpets lead a merry march, horns in accord.  At last we reach " The Town Hall, Brno" as the last movement is titled.  The kings, queens and church no longer reign, though their heritage informs the new Republic.  Those cheerfully awry rhythms might suggest the jubilation of the people. The return of the fanfare chorale thus created a sense of unity: past and future linked together with heady optimism.
Britain fell in love with Sibelius very early on. Indeed, the composer's popularity in the west contributed towards international support for the independence of Finland, an example of art influencing life.  Again, Rosa Newmarch was in on Sibelius fairly early on. Finlandia was heard twice at the 1906 Proms. Rattle's Sibelius continues a long British tradition forged by Beecham, Boult,  Barbirolli, Berglund and others.  Most British audiences grow up with Sibelius implanted into their listening DNA, and Rattle has been a part of that.  Rattle's Sibelius most certainly is to be reckoned with, not brutalist like Karajan, but more sympathetic to the other forces in the music.  Rattle in 2018 with the LSO is of course very different from Rattle with the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra twenty years ago, but this was a very good performance.  Much of the stylishness of the Berliner Philharmoniker may have rubbed off on Rattle, and the LSO are sounding more inspired and classier than ever.  A "warm" Sibelius 5, with grandeur and magnificence, but also human and humane : Sibelius with a soul, so to speak, and all the better for that.  Livestream here for 30 days

Joyous but sharp - Rattle, LSO, New Music Britain

Sir Simon Rattle, photo; Oliver Helbig, courtesy Askonas Holt

Sir Simon Rattle and the  London Symphony Orchestra marked the opening of the 2018-2019 season with a blast.  Literally, for Sir Harrison Birtwistle's new piece Donum Simoni MMXVIII was an explosion of brass - four trumpets, trombones, horns and tuba, bursting into the Barbican Hall. When Sir Harry makes a statement, he makes it big and bold !  Short as it was, this fanfare was more substantial than it might have seemed at first.  Like the composer himself, it was forthright and direct - no messing about.  Hence the gruff low timbres and pugnacious sassiness, punctuated by percussion, with woodwind interjection, and later a tuba solo. Characteristic Birtwistle quirks and earthiness.  Oddly enough the piece sounded like the way Birtwistle speaks in conversation. Since Birtwistle and Rattle have had a long relationship that goes back to the mid 1970's, Donum Simoni is personal, like an autographed portrait of the composer with an affectionate dedication to an old friend.

In a masterstroke of provocative but inspired programing, Rattle followed Birtwistle with Gustav Holst. Holst's Egdon Heath (A homage to Thomas Hardy) op 47 (1927) is rooted in the idea of timeless landscape.  Like Hardy's Wessex, Egdon Heath doesn't exist, though it feels as though it should.  Low rumbling harmonies, long, ambiguous string lines that seem to be hovering between tonalities: like mist above a heath.  Tempi speed up, but clear, long lines return and an anthem-like motif emerges : almost Elgarian in the way that it evokes time and place.  A single trumpet rang clear and the sounds dissolved into the ether around them. Though Rattle has built his reputation on new music, he has done a lot of Elgar and Sibelius. This Egdon Heath was a beautifully textured tone poem rich with feeling.  Rattle is making connections between Holst and Birttwistle, who creates imaginary landscapes, rough hewn from almost organic forces, merging past, present and future in co-existing layers.  Some may scream that Holst isn't "modern" but yes he was, in his own way.

Rattle's gift for intelligent musical juxtapositions is one of his strengths, from which we can learn.
Rattle and Mark-Anthony Turnage have worked together for decades, too. Rattle premiered Turnage's Remembering 'in memoriam Evan Scofield'  with the LSO at the Barbican last year (read more here) and with the Berliner Philharmoniker in Berlin. Turnage's Dispelling the Fears from 1994/5 is a much earlier work.  Trumpet players Philip Cobb and Gábor Tarkövi are principals of the LSO and the Berliner Philharmoniker respectively, so this performance was also a drawing together of past, present and future.  The two trumpets stalk each other in dialogue and at cross-purposes, connecting and disconnecting with the orchestra around them.  Though it is a serious work, there's wit in it too, which connected it, in turn, to Benjamin Britten's Spring Symphony.

Britten's Spring Symphony (1948) is big, flamboyant and bursting with good-humoured high jinks -  an excellent choice with which to open a new season.  Rattle and the London Symphony Orchestra were joined here by soloists Alice Coote, Elizabeth Watts and Allan Clayton  with the London Symphony Chorus (Simon Halsey), the Tiffin Boy's Choir, the Tiffin Girls' School Choir and the Tiffin Children's Chorus (James Day).  The Spring Symphony is more than symphony : it is a piece of music theatre, where visuals count.   Here, the  youth choruses walked into the Barbican Hall and sang from the edge of the platform, up one aisle and on the stage itself.   Not quite as stunning as last year's Berlioz Damnation of Faust when Rattle and the LSO were joined by young singers who seemed to materialize everywhere (Please read more here).   But the difference lay in the music itself.  Cheerful as the Spring Symphony is, there's something very "English" about it, and its high spirits need a certain degree of discretion.  In terms of Britten's output it occupies a strange place. It's not Peter Grimes, but closer to another genre dear to Britten's heart : community music-making for the sheer pleasure of making music together.  

Thus the sprawling structure, four parts with twelve distinct sections, which together form a large, impressionistic portrait of Spring in its many manifestations. A Birtwistle "landscape" of sorts   If there's any symphonic predecessor, it might be Mahler's Symphony no 3 where summer rushes in with exuberant vigour.  Like the god Pan, artists don't follow rules : they create.  Thus the many different texts from various sources,  some medieval, some modern, and the variety of settings and styles.  Wisely, Rattle didn't try to homogenize them, but kept the separate parts distinct, so each shone on its own merits.   A blazing "Shine out, fair sun !" set the mood. There are many Brittenesque elements in the piece which would be fun to isolate, and relate to, later works, but it is enough that the work as a whole flows naturally as a series of tableaux.  Lively performances : everyone having a good time.  whih is as things should be. Rattle, a consummate communicator, knows how to share his enthusiasm with performers and with audiences. A lot of fuss these days is made of grim-faced pious "music education" but this is how things actually work in the real world.  Note the final section "London to thee I do present the merry month of May". 

Please see my review of Rattle's second concert with the LSO Britain and European New Music - Britain's connections with Janáček, Szymanowski and Sibelius.

East meets West - LSO St Luke's Friday

Eclectic recital this Friday (6/7) - East meets West with LSO String Ensemble at Jerwood Hall, St Lukes.  Raymond Yiu's  And Nights Bright Days (2017) with LSO's Principal Flute Gareth Davies, the dedicatee. "Inspired by the dreamlike poetry of Tang Xianzu, the piece shifts and transforms as it unfolds, echoing the dreams it is built around."  This will also be the premiere of Yiu's new work Butorflēoge.  Read about his The World was Once All Miracle with Roderick Williams and Sir Andrew Davis and the BBCSO HERE and about his Symphony with Sakari Oramo at the BBC Proms 2015 HERE.  Yiu is an interesting and inventive composer - this should be good.  Also on this eclectic programme, Haydn Cello Concerto no 1 (first movement) with Li Wei Qin, and Xiaogang ye's Poem of China, framed by Tchaikovsky's Serenade for Strings (first and fourth Movements). Lee Reynolds conducts. The concert starts at 8pm (when it will be cooler) with time after to party.

BOOK HERE     

Valedictory Mahler 10, Tippett The Rose Lake - Rattle, LSO

Simon Rattle and the London Symphony Orchestra in Michael Tippett The Rose Lake and Mahler  Symphony no 10  (Cooke III performing edition) at the Barbican, London.   Mega mega high profile, advertised a year ago, livestreamed internationally and broadcast on the BBC.  Members of the LSO in white tie.  In the audience - Marina Mahler, grand daughter of the composer and Colin Matthews, one of Deryck Cooke's team. While still a teenager, Matthews (b.1946) was so interested in Cooke's work that he contacted him : the rest is history.  Interval features are usually time for tea, but Matthews is worth listening to as he sheds new light. The symphony will never, ever be "complete", and that is its fascination.  The challenge, in performance, is to present it with a sense of open-endedness and possibility.  Rattle took the last minutes sedately, for they are too precious to rush through, letting them breathe and rise, like the finale of Mahler Symphony no 9, dissolving into infinity.  Even more potently, he drew the connections between beginning and end - shrill strings reminiscent of the "death scream" against darker, warmer hues,  almost, but not quite resolving the duality in the first movement. In so many ways this duality is the heart of the entire work, but  poignantly, it hangs tantalizingly unfinished.  Very sophisicated, and very moving.
Rattle's Mahler springs from a very long British tradition, which goes back many decades.  As a music student, Britten bought Horenstein's 1927 recoirding of Kindertotenlieder and drove his friends nuts playing it over and over.  After 1933, the influx of emigrés - including  Bertholdt Goldschmidt - strengthened the connections. Rattle, like so many others, imbibed his Mahler from Walter, Barbirolli, Haitink, Horenstein etc. all of whom were active in Britain. Rattle's Mahler thus reflects a wider European tradition, as opposed to, say, the Bernstein mould.  From what we now know about Mahler,  this tradition better reflects the composer himself, which specially pertains to this last work.
The Adagio began with exquisite refinement : gossamer textures floated, the yearning string lines enhanced by the entry of a deeper, more resonant theme.  The horns break away, as if they're leading us further into the realms of Mahler's creative imagination.  Perhaps these two themes represent Mahler and Alma, his "ewiger weiblicher" Muse.  The relationship was central to Mahler's creativity, so background knowledge does impact on performance practice.  Rattle judged the duality with poised balance, but pointedly highlighted the fragile figure before the final return of the "Alma " theme, shaded by horns.  As so often in Mahler, equanimity even born from struggle, cannot last. When the "scream chord",was released a cataclysmic blast of near dissonance.  The allusions to alpine meadows returned, but muted, tinged with melancholy.
The swaggering Weltlauf  in the wild first Scherzo brutally mocked the refinement of the Adagio.  The world runs on, whether it suits us or not. No neurotic self pity here : not Mahler's style.  The rapid changes of meter and tempo were well defined, but not necessarily manic, which is no fault, since the movement ends with glorious, exuberant vigour, tautly defined, heralded by trumpets which in Mahler signify forward movement, not stagnation.   This time the dichotomy between themes feels dangerous, the throwing down of a creative gauntlet?  Far from being neurotic, Mahler was entering a new phase in life, and possibly new creative challenges.  The jerky figures in the strings, winds and brass felt deliciously wicked.   The Purgatorio is short but structurally important, linking the first and the more complex second Scherzo.  On the title page of the second Scherzo, Mahler writes “The Devil is dancing it with me! Madness, seize me … destroy me! Let me forget that I exist, so that I cease to be.” But a careful observer will note that Mahler then adds “dass ich ver ….” (so that I ….) and trails off without completing the idea. It’s a preposition, but this whole work is a kind of preposition, well served by Rattle's non-dogmatic touch.

A delicate yet quirky waltz circulates through this movement, in counterpoise to the demonic tensions. Significantly the lone voice of the violin is joined by other individual voices, including oboe, flute and bassoon.  Yet where was Mahler heading ? The brooding tuba heralded the heavy tread of the "Fireman's Funeral" in the Finale.   Alma and Mahler had watched the funeral, of a fireman from their hotel room.  Only Alma knew what that meant to the composer, so we can only speculate in musical terms.  Though there are many funeral marches in Mahler, this one's particularly chilling because it's so uncompromising, muted horns and trumpets, bassoons and tuba in solemn procession.  Yet a flute sang, its voice rising upwards : like a bird, like a soul, free of worldly constraints.  Though the tuba still mourned, solo trumpet led the orchestra forward, proceeding quietly but with the poise with which Rattle marked the first movement. The "death scream" returns, but now less strident, more integrated into the whole.  A wonderful performance, even by the standrds of the LSO at its best.   Though Ratlle has conducted numerous Mahler 10's,  this was one for the ages.

A remarkable programme, too, beginning with Tippett's The Rose Lake.  There's little connection between Tippett's The Rose Lake and Mahler 10, but  who cares ?  This performance was in itself mega high profile,  since it's not often heard live, which Tippett fans would have been anticipating all year.  Rattle has always been good at developing repertoire, and part of his remit as Music Director of the LSO is to promote modern British music.  Please read HERE about his keynote concert at the start of the season where he conducted an eclectic programme of  Elgar, Birtwistle, Knussen and Adès.  More to come !  Sir Colin Davis conducted the LSO in the first recording of the piece twenty-one years ago, and Richard Hickox conducted the BBC National Orchestra oF Wales in 2005.  Those versions very different, as was this performance with Rattle, which was easily up in the same league as Davis and Hickox, the LSO sounding revitalized, playing better than they've played in years.
Ostensibly, The Rose Lake is a video in music, inspired by Le lac rose in Sénégal, which Tippett visited in 1990.  As the angle of the sun changed, the colours in the landscape changed, a concept that translates well into a study of orchestral colour.  It was "a continuous five part composition, in essence a set of variations .....a song without words for orchestra", as Tippett wrote at the time. 

The sections with programmatic titles mix with sections where only tempo gives clue to meaning, the twelve short segments moving forward in sequence, suggesting the passage of time. Dense but lucid layers of sound as beautifully structured as mosaic. I thought of Birtwistle Earth Dances, but lighter and shining.  In the organic "earth forms" and especially in the bird sounds, I thought of Olivier Messiaen, who was also fascinated by radiant aural colour and keyed percussion.          

Debussy and Beyond - François-Xavier Roth, LSO Barbican

Debussy and Stravinsky, 1910

On the centenary of Debussy's death, "Debussy and Beyond", with the London Symphony Orchestra at the Barbican,, conducted by François-Xavier Roth.  This was the highlight of an unusually well planned series, examining Debussy from different angles.  Anyone can programme mechanical "greatest hits"  programes, but from Roth and the LSO we can expect much more musical nous.  In "The Young Debussy", we heard the influences that shaped him,  In "The Essence of Debussy", we heard well known pieces and the less well known, like the Fantasie for piano and orchestra,. This series has been challenging because it didn't spoonfeed, but presentedthoughtful challenges   for further listening and contemplation.  For "Debussy and Beyond", there could be dozens of possible contenders, since Debussy's influence on modern music is so extensive. Debussy changed the game, no less.  He paved the way for others, whose music is very diffrent from his own, and continues to inspire. This evening's programme focussed on large ensemble, and on major works that would often be the backbone of most concerts. It lasted nearly three hours, but was so rewarding that time passed all too soon.

Homage to Debussy and also homage to Pierre Boulez, one of Debussy's finest interpreters and champions, who was born seven years and one day after Debussy died.  Much has been written about how Boulez's Livre pour cordes morphed, or didn't morph, over 20+ years, so it's not worth repeating, save to say that  it is "mega string quartet" scored for 16 first and 14 second violins, 12 violas, 10 cellos and 8 basses.  The four main groups are multiplied into many parts, creating intricate polyphonic textures. Onto this a panoply of techniques, for further variety. Yet the whole piece lasts under 11 minutes. It's a model of tightly woven concision - nothing extraneous - precision.  Roth conducted the LSO, so it came over as chamber music, albeit on a grand scale, the players interacting with precison and grace.  Not "impressionism", in the "mood painting" sense of the word, but finely detailed complexity, extending Debussy's tonal ambiguity and chromatic adventure.

Though there's ostensibly little direct connection between Debussy and Bartók, both were pillars of twentieth century music, and cannot be ignored. Many others might have been included, but for practical, logistic reasons, this concert focussed on works for very large ensemble.  Bartók's Violin Concerto no 2  BB117 (1937-8) served to balance the other two big pillars of the programme, Stravinsky's Chant du Rossignol and Debussy's La Mer, with Renaud Capuçon as soloist.. Capuçon's long solo passages were played with style, contrasting well with the striking orchestral backdrop.  Since the LSO has a commendable commitment to new music, this was followed by the world premiere of Ewan Campbell's Frail Skies (2017), another work for very large orchestra including piano.  I'd hesitate to call it a tone poem,  though there are images in the music that suggest the forces of Nature.  Though the title suggests the sky, I thought of waves in an ocean, carrying thousands of minute particles carried in their wake.  The piece moves in cyclic fashion beginning and ending with solo cello surrounded by larger, darker forces, traversing other cyclic patterns along the way.  High woodwinds added lightness, somnolent strings and brass added density.  No young composer could compress as much into a short work as Boulez did with Livre pour cordes, but at least new work is being written, and new composers are finding their way.

Debussy and Stravinsky knew each other well. The photo above shows them together during the 1910 Ballets Russe season in Paris in 1910, when The Firebird was performed.  For this programme, François-Xavier Roth included Stravinsky's Chant du rossignol, loosely based on Hans Christian Anderson's tale about a nightingale and a mythical Emperor of China.  Given that Debussy was fascinated with Japanese and Indonesian culture, this was an inspired choice, connecting Debussy's eclectic interests and the craze for "primitive" non- western art, which made  Stravinksy and Diaghilev sensation. French orientalism, which has a long past, was to stimulate numerous artists and composers, from Ravel to Picasso, to Messiaen and beyond.  Recently Roth and Les Siècles gave a concert in Paris, which iuncluded a gamelan orchestra (read more here).  With Chant du rossignol, Roth and the LSO open out a whole horizon to explore.  In purely musical terms, Chant du rossignol  is also apposite because Stravinsky blends exotic colour with lyricism. The nightingale is no Firebird, but its fragility is its strength.  A violin sings for the mechanical nightingale, its elaborate trills deliberately formal.  The flute sings for the real nightingale, singing with freedom and inventivenss. The Emperor, for all his wealth, cannot compete. The music that depicted him was dark and slow - basses and low timbred winds and brass, and tam tam, against which the "nightingale" shone ever more brightly.   Exquisite detail in this performance, even in small figures, like trombone ellipses and the sensation of breeze (harps, strings, brass) at the very end.

François-Xavier Roth has conducted Debussy La mer so many times that it's practically his trademeark. He's even constructed whole programmes around it (please read more here).   This time it felt valedictory.  After that outstanding performance of Chant du rossignol, it was good to pause and reflect on Debussy and his legacy.  La mer never loses its magic but seems to forever reveal new depths.  The ocean covers most of the planet : different in different parts of the world, but always developing.  A metaphor for music ! 

John Eliot Gardiner LSO Schumann Berlioz

John Eliot Gardiner, photo Sim Canetty-Clarke

The start of a major Schumann series with John Eliot Gardiner conducting the London Symphony Orchestra at the Barbican: Schumann Symphony no 2 in C major op 61 (1847) and the Overture to Genoveva with Berlioz Les nuits d'été, soloist Ann Hallenberg. Gardiner is one of the great Schumann conductors of our time, so the LSO are right on the mark, choosing him to head their Schumann series, which began with this concert, continues on 15th March and into 2019.  A major series, whose importance cannot be overestimated.  Perhaps we can hear Schumann all the time, but rarely at this level of excellence.

Gardiner's  approach to Schumann is inspired by a deep understanding of the composer's aesthetic.  It's a mistake to assume that period-informed performance means period instruments  It has much more to do with understanding the composer's idiom and practices which might enhance performance dynamics. The LSO doesn't use period instruments, but achieves werktreue effects by other means.  The players didn't sit down to play but instead stood up throughout.  Immediately, you could hear  the difference.  You'd need cloth ears not to notice, even if you didn't know "why". Because the players were closer together, the sound was more concentrated, achieving volume without having to force the instruments, the sound projected from a few feet higher than usual,  intensifying the interaction between players and podium. Chamber-like sensititivty, in a large (ish) ensemble. The musicians could move freely, flexing their bodies naturally, without the rigidity that comes from sitting down. This flexibility flowed through to the music, which felt direct and spontaneous, textures bright and clearly defined.  Gardiner's Schumann is agile and alive, revealing the composer's true originality.


Gardiner preceeded Schumann's Symphony no 2 with the Overture to his opera Genoveva, which he began at around the same time as he wrote the symphony. The connections go deeper.  The original folk tale on which Genoveva is based dates back to the Middle Ages. Indeed it’s the basis of stories like Snow White, for in legend, Genoveva lived in the forest, protected by animals and by her virtue. Significantly, though, Schumann rejected the medieval concept, choosing instead to base his opera on Friedrich Hebbel’s more psychological drama, published only four years previously. Schumann wanted a “modern” take on the story. As Hebbel said “Any drama will come alive only to the extent that it expresses the spirit of the age which brings it forth”. The Overture sets the stage, introducing the themes that will be developed more fully in the opera. It's marvellous, but listen to how it zooms into a chorale, and then into the opera proper, rather like successive proscenia in a theatre add depth to a flat stage. Schumann's doing dramatic perspective with music.

Schumann's Symphony no 2 begins with another brass chorale, which  here came over without stridency, the "brassiness" muted and dignified, integrating well with the bassoons, winds and strings. How poignant the horns and winds sounded, evoking Nature, hinting at the deep sources of the Romantic imagination.  Moving from sostenuto to allegro, Schumann then creates a wild scherzo where notes seem to fly in fiendishly complex patterns, though the themes are sharply defined.  Schumann 2 is unusual, because it mixes serene passages with oddball quirks. The last movement is sublime, but it's undercut by the moody bassoon from the Adagio, which Schumann told a friend was when he heard his "half sickness" calling him. Yet he had a "special fondness"  for this strange melancholy , which infused even the happiest moments of his life. Who but Schumann could have written Dichterliebe as a wedding gift after having struggled so long to win Clara from her father?

Throughout this symphony there are oblique references to Bach and especially to Mendelssohn whose Midsummer Night's Dream music casts a magical glow on the Adagio.  The assertive, affirmative confidence of the final movement seemed to come straight from the spirit of Beethoven. 
Genoveva and Lohengrin both premiered in the summer of 1850. Wagner disparaged Schumann, as he disparaged Mendelssohn (Schumann’s hero). Since Wagner’s opinions were influential, Genoveva has been eclipsed, and most late Schuman undervalued because it doesn't fit the Wagner ethos  But  Schumann’s ideas on music and music drana stem from sources earlier than Wagner, and might have developed an alternative path had he continued writing after the age of 45.

Between Schumann's Overture to Genoveva and his Symphony no 2,  Berlioz Les nuits d'été op 7 (1841). Gardiner is also a great Berlioz conductor : remember his Damnation of Faust last year ? (read my piece here).  The immediacy of Gardiner's style adds punch to  the song cycle, enhancing dramatic tension.  Ann Hallenberg was a good soloist, not especially French, but in the context of a Schumann series, that's perfectly apt. 

This concert was also broadcast live, part of the LSO live initiative. This itself is news, since it enables the LSO to reach international audiences online who might not otherwise be able to attend concerts, even when the LSO goes on tour.  This particular concert seems to attracted less than the number who logged in for Bychkov's Mahler symphony no 2, but that's fair enough. Mahler is box office, while Schumann and particularly up-market Schumann is more esoteric. It will be interesting to see what the next live stream draws on April 11th (Mahler 10, Simon Rattle, Michael Tippett The Rose Garden)  The economics of livestream are hard to measure.  This concert reached about as many as would be seated in the Barbican, but will continue to attract viewers on Youtube for a longer period. The knock-on effect should also be felt in CD/DVD sales. Long term, streaming enhances the profile of the orchestra, and reaches a wider public.