Andrew Morris writes :
Sakari Oramo’s inaugural
concert as Chief Conductor of the BBC Symphony Orchestra gave opportunities to
explore existing preoccupations – theirs and his. Oramo – no stranger to the
British music world after ten years at the helm of the City of Birmingham
Symphony Orchestra – brought Mahler to the table, a composer with whom he’s had
an affinity for some time. The BBC for their part, brought a substantial
premiere by respected French composer Tristan Murail, affirming a commitment to
contemporary music unparalleled among London’s symphony orchestras.
The title itself of
Murail’s new piece, Reflections/Reflets,
presages elements of the first of the piece’s two movements. Murail takes as
his starting point Charles Baudelaire’s poem Spleen, not set vocally but rather
painted in heavy orchestral sound. The poem’s bells are there, tolling grimly
at the first part’s climax and the thick texture truly makes sonic sense of the
opening line “When the low and heavy sky presses like a lid”. It’s the skewed
tuning, though, that most clearly stems from that title – a cluster of wind
instruments, just slightly off the pitching of the rest of the orchestra,
distorts everything we hear, offering a cracked double image or a sullied
reflection.
The second part, “High
Voltage/Haute Tension”, darts of with a nervous energy not possible in the
first. Pointed piano writing underlies much of the skittish but virtuosic
orchestral writing, setting off waves of upward-reaching scales that couldn’t
be further removed from the weighty import of the “Spleen” music. Murail
intends these movements to be the first in a cycle of pieces, and the BBC
Symphony Orchestra launched them with terrific power and commitment in this
world premiere performance.
Something of the febrile
energy of “High Voltage” was echoed in Shostakovich’s Concerto for piano,
trumpet and strings of 1933 (sometimes dubbed Piano Concerto No.1),
particularly so here with the hyper-detailed pianism of Olli Mustonen. I hadn’t
seen Mustonen live before this concert, having encountered him only through his
recordings, but in the event the visuals matched the eccentric intellectualism
projected by his playing. Mustonen lets no phrase rise and fall smoothly,
preferring to poke odd notes and send them out into the audience like barbs.
His hands fly sometimes a foot from the keyboard, striking from a height and
only increasing that sense of jaunty, jolting phrasing. It’s love-it-or-hate-it
playing, sounding nothing like anyone else I’ve ever heard, but there’s
something curiously disarming about it, as though Mustonen is dreaming his own
quirky musical fantasy and allowing us to peek over his shoulder.
The obligato trumpet part
was here taken by Russian star Sergei Nakariakov, whose quivering vibrato and
silken tone were quite distinct from Mustonen’s angularity, but they shared a
stingingly incisive rhythmic sense that made for a tremendously exciting
finale. A little more tightness from the accompanying strings would have raised
the performance even more, but with so much to intrigue and entertain, it seems
churlish to complain. I can’t imagine that I’d want to listen to Mustonen’s
wacky phrasing for too long, though.
If Oramo’s contribution
has gone uncommented upon until now, it’s because the final item – Mahler’s
First Symphony – was always going to be the test of his command and ability. He
set down an admired recording with the Royal Stockholm Philharmonic Orchestra a
couple of years ago and here proved that he has something fresh and engaging to
say in what is very frequently trodden repertoire. I say fresh not so much in
that his view is wholly original, but rather that his approach drew out all
that is youthful and hopeful from this mighty work. His motions on the podium
suggested strongly that flow and lyricism were priorities, bringing out this
music’s roots in song (Mahler does, after all, make heavy reference to his
earlier song cycle Lieder eines fahrenden
Gesellen). I’ve rarely heard the scherzo infused with such a vigorous sense
of dance, or the first movement’s climactic explosion of light more awake and
alert. Along the way, he was given many moments of fine playing from the
orchestra – some crisp offstage brass, gutsy string playing and that double bass solo negotiated with
poise. What was missing, perhaps, was a real sense of polish and refinement
from the BBC SO. It sometimes seemed that Oramo was pushing for more dynamic
contrast that he was receiving in return, and while there were never issues of
ensemble, I missed the beauty of sound of which this orchestra is capable. As
inaugural concerts go, though, this was a promising one – a strong sense here
of a conductor with firm priorities and an orchestra capable of delivering what
he asks.
Andrew Morris is a violinist and runs the string music news and reviews site:Devil's Trill.
photo : Jan OlavWedin
