Saved by good musicianship - Last Night of the Proms 2019

Last Night of the Proms 2019 - a wild night out, as usual, where music isn't really the point.  But we still care, and with Sakari Oramo conducting the flagship BBC Symphony Orchestra, we could count on good playing  and some musical excellence. Oramo's good nature makes him a natural communicator, so he's a good compere too (better than most BBC presenters). "In an age of social media attention spans", he said "it's good that audiences can enjoy live concerts". Thank goodness for that. But one wonders if these days, LNOP is not about music at all.

A few years back, Arron Banks, the millionaire with "interesting" non-British connections and no known musical background, tried to swamp the LNOP with free Union Jacks.  Which the Prommers largely rejected,  making their sympathies clear. After all, music is international, and without freedom of movement British musicians couldn't work abroad, nor international musicians enter.  If Parliament can be prorogued to curb the normal process of democracy, can the BBC stand up to political pressure?  Its promotion of Farage did him no harm, whatseover. Rupert Murdoch must be very pleased. This year the stage and balconies of the Royal Albert Hall were festooned with Union Jacks - not placed by prommers but by those who want control.  Patriotism is a good thing but political manipulation is not.  Isn't the Union Jack supposed to stand for Union ?  Don't Scotland, London and indeed millions of others who don't support extremism matter anymore ? A fait accompli, like a coup.

There were some compensations, though. Daniel Kidane's Woke, was actually good as music.  Many LNOP commissions, even by top composers, are somewhat perfunctory, but this had substance.  An inventive sound palette, with exotic sounds, building up to a panorama which felt full of incident and imaginative detail.  Dominant chords gave the piece a firm framework, and distinctive character.  Nice depth of texture, too.  At the top, high timbres flew freely, supported by elusive wind figures, lower winds, brass and strings providing bedrock.  Lots of development too - in the quiet section mysterious background sounds enhance the main theme. The finale was gorgeous, building up to a full throated, affirmative tutti.  Kidane has written about the concepts behind the piece which are perhaps even more important in a Britain that's become increasingly intolerant of diversity.  Woke is good enough that it stand on its own terms.  The real problem with society is that it's based on a system that promotes inequality.  The lack of musical education in school doesn't help either,. Indeed a good school system would help a lot in combatting ignorance.  Instead we now live in times when racism is mainstream. Years ago, I watched Gordon Laing, a great basssoonist, walk towards the Royal Albert Hall, carrying his bassoon case, an object non-musicians might mistake for something sinister. Plus, he was wearing a  hoodie and slouch pants. A white guy might not have worried, but let's face it,  statistically not being white gets you into trouble even when you're doing nothing wrong.  Let us never be complacent.

Oramo conducted an exuberant suite from Manuel de Falla The Three Cornerd Hat, again establishing musical credentials.  Laura Mvula's Sing to the Moon has been heard three times at the Proms, here in an a capella arrangement for the BBC Singers and Chorus. Then, Elisabeth Maconchy's Proud Thames, commisioned for the Coronation: a well crafted piece, horns and winds over swirling strings, and blows of timpani.  A strong current - like the Thames - flowing through the countryside to a London then full of hope and optimism.  It worked well with Elgar's Sospiri op 70 completed on the verge oif the beginning of the 1914-1918 war.  The strings ma y seem peaceful, but as so often with Elgar, there's an underlying mood of tension,which Oramo and the BBC SO picked up on. Though the strings and harps and organ might suggest serenity, the piece isn't subtitled "Sighs" for nothing.

But the "new" Proms priorities came to. the fore with Jamie Barton, for whom the BBC Publicity department seems to have pulled out all the stops. The Habanera from Carmen is so popular that it will always thrill a crowd, as did the hit numbers from Samson et Delilah and Verdi Don Carlos. But one wonders what the reception would be from opera house audiences used to full operas and more demanding standards. Big voices always appeal, but phrasing, controlled vibrato, intonation, and subtlety are important too. When she sang Over the Rainbow from The Wizard of Oz, the RAH crowd went wild, but I kept thinking of Joyce DiDonato, who sang it with such fervour and finesse that her performance felt like a truly historic moment, elevating the piece from song to anthem.  The Triumphal March from Aida restored the balance, extremely well done, especially considering that Oramo and the BBCSO, the BBC Singers and Chorus don't do a whole lot of opera. 

More good music after the interval, too, with the Overture from Offenbach Orpheus in the Underworld (wonderful violin !)  and Percy Grainger's Marching Song of Democracy for wordless chorus which is a novelty for good reasons, I suspect.  At last, Sakari Oramo introduced the party part of the Last Night of the Proms. "Let's go !". The perennial Fantasia on British Sea Songs (arranged by Henry Wood), played at gloriously manic pace, Thomas Arne's Rule, Britannia! arranged by Malcolm Sargent, 

Elgar's Pomp & Circumstance March (Land of Hope and Glory)  and Jerusalem in Elgar's arrangement of Hubert Parry, with the National Anthem arranged by Benjamin Britten. .No matter how many times we've heard these same pieces, they come alive again when performed as well as this. 

 

Oramo Prom : Judith Weir, Sibelius, Mussorgsky, Andriessen

Judith Weir

Two modern works bookended by two standards in Sakari Oramo's Prom 67 with the BBC Symphony Orchestra - Louis Andriessen's The Only One (2018, UK premiere) and Judith Weir's The Forest (from 1995, recieving its Proms premiere) with Mussorgsky A Night on the Bare Mountain and Sibelius Symphony no 5.  The "Henry Wood Novelties" tag imposed by BBC Proms management is increasingly threadbare, but the connections between the pieces were deep enough to make this a coherent programme on other terms.  Nature, and the human response to Nature, and to powers beyond the conscious ? While there's no programme in Sibelius 5, there is one in A Night on Bald Mountain, not that it matters all that much since the music's so compelling. There's no actual programme in Judith Weir's The Forest either,  but so much of her music expresses deep connections to landscape and "earth magic".

At a push, Andriessen's The Only One, based on poems by Delphine Lecompte, might suggest animal instincts in a "forest" of sound, but it's not one of Andriessen's most distinctive works. It's music theatre  - De Staat for non-demanding club performance. In that sense it connects to the ideals of the 60's and 70's  when "art for the people" was a watchword. But "art for people" can mean many things - from De Staat to Luigi Nono to Henze and much more.  The Only One perhaps speaks to a world where "the people" whoever they are, want validation, not radical change. A sad commentary on present times, not on the composer.  As music theatre, The Only One is a far cry from, say, The Seven Deadly Sins : the protagonist starts out young and playful, but gradualy gets absorbed into corporate anonymity.  Though there's plenty of vocal tricks, I suspect part of the impact lies in the costume changes and cutesiness. Nora Fischer (daughter of Ivan) was the soloist and quite pleasant, but I can't think Hannigan, the Komsis or Claron McFadden would have gone near this.

Judith Weir's The Forest ,on the other hand, feels natural, evolving from very deep sources, growing organically, endlessly renewing iutself. In the broadcast Weir speaks of the "wooden" instrumentation. That's so true - string instruments resonate when air vibrates against wood : and  string techniques use the very resonance of wood when they make sound without strings.  Murmuring and mystery - swathes of strings against woodwinds, again wood resonating with breath control.  Textures at once dense and tantalizing, drawing the listener in further and further.  Flashes of brightness - shining brass - and dark murmurs, timpani suggesting danger. And suddenly, silence.  If this was "music theatre" perhaps we've been absorbed into the forest by the earth spirits that might lurk within.  Judith Weir is one of the great British composers of our time, and very individual.   Talent has nothingb to do with gender. Weir is good because she's good.  Why doesn't  BBC R3 policy give her the prominence she is due ?  There has been some shamefully bad music this season, seemingly picked to fulfill artificial quotas. But Weir is the genuine article.

A rousing Sibelius Fifth. Oramo and the BBCSO have this imprinted in their genes, so to speak. A satisying and intelligently put together Prom all round.

Joyous Messiaen From the Canyons to the Stars.... Oramo, BBCSO

Messiaen in Bryce Canyon

Prom 13, Olivier Messiaen Des canyons aux étoiles... (From the Canyons to the Stars...). Sakari Oramo conducting the BBC Symphony Orchestra. One day, I want to hear this outdoors, with the sky above,  surrounded by endless horizons. Sure, the sound quality wouldn't please nit-picking audiophiles, but those who love music might understand.  As the composer himself observed, when you are in a canyon, the only way to look is upwards, towards the stars.  In Paris, he spent much of his time in Saint-Sulpice, cramped up high above the nave in the organ loft.  In Bryce Canyon, Utah, he experienced a “cathedral” of another kind, where the vast stone walls of the canyon rose up like walls, enclosing space, but opened, roofless, to the skies. Direct communion with the universe and all its wonders!  Messiaen was a visionary, for whom all creation was a celebration of a God who made the universe and  its wonders.  From the Canyons to the stars.... is Messiaen's response, creating in music a panorama of sounds, textures and colours.

Messiaen's"canyon", isn't just a literal depiction of landcape, but a visionary communion with creation and its Creator. This is no minor achievement. From the Canyons to the Stars..... is nearly two hours long, a series of 12 individual sections, but together they form an epic journey.  Just as the colours in a landscape change with changes in natural light, the traverse is a reflection of the passage of time. "Man hasn’t been on this earth that long”, Messiaen said. "Before us there were prehistoric monsters, but in between there were birds". And before birds and dinosaurs, the geology of the Earth itself. The very character of From the Canyons to the stars.... is shaped by these concepts. The orchestra isn't huge. but each instrument is used for maximum effect. The smallest instrument in the orchestra, the piccolo, plays an important role, just as the smallest bird in a dawn chorus can be heard distinctively.

The range, too, is eclectic. Messiaen even created a new instrument, the geosphere, where actual rocks are placed in a flat drum  and shaken, the earth thus employed to make "earth sounds" in a concert hall environment. Earth sounds everywhere-the wind machine, the thunderboard,  tubular bells which suggest the flow of water, wooden blocks beaten together.  Sections for orchestra are balanced with sections for solo instruments: Nicolas Hodges (piano), Martin Owen (horn), David Hockings and Alex Neal, (xylorimba and glockenspiel). These unite the instrumental logic. The piano is a percussion instrument, the horn's sounds created by human breathing, the xylomarimba a percussion instrument whose sounds reverberate through tubes,like lungs, the glockenspiel a fragile predecessor of the piano. From the Canyons to the stars.... is big because its subject is big, but the foundations are strong, and logical. 

In the first part, starting with Le Désert the parameters are set out.  The brass carved out firm shapes, the piano (possibly representing man), was clearly defined, the sounds of the landscape swirling around.  Rhythms darted at odd angles, but were purposeful. Messiaen observed how birds move on the ground, confounding predators. Sometimes they creep quietly on the ground, but sudden fly off unpredictably. That’s how they survive. Thus the jerky changes of direction, and sudden leaps from activity to silence, large blocks juxtaposed against fast-flying fragments. Oramo handled the shape well, bringing out the originality that is so fundamental to Messiaen performance practice.  He has a good feel for the zany, quirky character in this music. His Turangalîla-Symphonie was wonderful because he doesn't tame the wildness. (Please read Sublimated sex in theTurangalila Symphony here).  He also gets the "technicolor" moments in Messiaen, as the climaxes in this performance showed.  Cedar Breaks et le don de craint ended with style, and Zion Park et la cité céleste.  even more expansive, concluded with such élan that it was clear what Messiaen meant : the glories of nature are a foretaste of the glories of Heaven.

Nicolas Hodges' solos captured the spirit,too. For a moment, time seemed to stand still, while the piano does a “display dance” like a bird showing off its plumage. Martin Owen’s horn seemed to be exploring the vast cavern of the Royal Albert Hall, repeating itself more quietly, as if from a distance. The glockenspiel and xylomarimba solos were expressive, like birds or animals from cover in the landscape of the wider percussion, treasured all the more because their appearances are so fleeting.

Albert Hall photos: Roger Thomas/Messiaen in Bryce Canyon: Yvonne Loriod

Gershwin restored to true greatness, Messiaen Prom 6

BBC Prom 6 - Gershwin An American in Paris (new edition) and Messiaen Turangalîla-Symphonie, two of the 20th century's most iconic pieces, with Sakari Oramo conducting the BBC Symphont Orchestra. Wonderful programme, but pity about the BBC marketing, obsessed as usual with themes and non-musical targets, missing the music itself.  Sure, this is Leonard Bernstein's anniversary but the world didn't revolve around him.  Bernstein conducted the premiere of Turangalîla-Symphonie  but only by chance, and didn't like it, which may have spoiled its reception.  There's a difference between musical perception in Europe and in the US which goes back a long way.  Nadia Boulanger and Messiaen both taught in Paris but operated in different directions.  There are teachers who teach students what to think, and teachers who teach students to think for themselves  Boulanger inspired cult-like deference, while Messiaen's students developed in many different ways.Messiaen's   students wereore diverse, while Boulanger's were largely English speakers. Bernstein thus absorbed the values of Boulanger devotees like Copland, conducting new music though not the new music of Messiaen and his circles which included Boulez. Messiaen adored America and Boulez spent much time conducting there so it's ironic to ponder what might have been. 

When Bernstein conducted  the Turangalîla-Symphonie in 1948, it was way too far for some to grasp. One critic panned it for its "fundamental emptiness… appalling melodic tawdriness…..a tune for Dorothy Lamour in a sarong, a dance for Hindu hillbillies”. If ever there was music in Technicolor, this is it, complete with cinematic swirls of the ondes martenot which we now assocaite with horror movies, though for Messaien there were no such connotations.  .Sakari Oramo doesn't conduct a lot of Messiaen but his Turangalîla-Symphonie is wonderful because it seems to appeal to his exuberant spirit.  This symphony explodes with the sheer joy of being alive.  If it is oddball, that's good, because its energy embraces human experience in all its aspects. Why shouldn't serious music be blissfully happy ?  Please read my article Sublimated sex: Messiaen Turangalîla-Symphonie for more. This also describes Oramo conducting it, with the BBCSO at the Barbican in May 2017. This Proms performance was more sedate, though good, mainly because the emphasis was on Gershwin.  

And rightly so since Oramo was conducting the UK premiere of a revised edition of An American in Paris which restores its original verve and originality . The piece is so well known from the movie of the same name that we could forget how Gershwin himself would have conceived it.  In the heady days of 1920's Paris it would have been innovative and deliciously subversive. Taxi horns and jazz syncopation ! The risqué world of modernity blowing into the concert hall !  Thus the vigour of this performance where Oramo brought out the audacity and freshness so it shone anew freed from decades of perceived performance practice. It's so vivid that many will prefer An American in Paris in its more neutral Hollywood form. But that does not do Gershwin justice.  This edition (and this performance) restores its true context.  For more about the new edition, by Mark Clague,  please read HERE.  Like George Antheil's Ballet Mécanique (1922/4) it represents a time when Europe and America were truly together and in tune at the forefront of a New Age. Lots more on Antheil on this site, please search. 

Anna Clyne, Benjamin Britten Violin Concerto : Oramo BBCSO

Britten and Menuhin, 1955

 Sakari Oramo conducted the BBC SO at the Barbican last night : Anna Clyne and Benjamin Britten   Two British composers, one a distinctive new voice, the other represented by a work which  in recent years has found its true place in the canon.  Heard together with a particularly fresh, vernal Beethoven Symphony no 6, this made a satisfying evening.

This was the UK premiere of Anna Clyne’s This Midnight Hour, first heard in Paris in 2015.  Quality, in Anna Clyne’s case, gets her ahead, not her gender.  She’s so original that the patronizing tag “female composer” is an insult. What is “female” music anyway. This Midnight Hour is ambitious work on a grand scale, though compact and precise.  Rushing figures fly forwards, quite ferociously, leading to a passage of surprising clarity.  Very rich sounds - especially the low strings - suggest dense textures, carefully defined.  From moments of near-silence,  pounding figures push forward, aletrnating with sudden lyrical passages. Winds and brass blow ellipses that seem to probe space.  Two staccato thunderclaps, and the music swirls into fast paced turbulence, whipped by ellipses of high-pitched woodwinds. More combinations of quietness and explosive staccato, then a long passage of almost Romantic lushness, evoking the sounds of Spain. A long-held single note (bass trombone), evolves into nocturnal fanfare.  A sudden crash on timpani, an abrupt end, like an exclamation point.  Later I realized that this is a reference to a poem by Juan Ramón Jiménez which Clyne was responding to.  “La musica; mujer desnuda,corriendo loca por la noche pura!” (The music: a naked woman, running madly in the pure night) . Apparently there are also references to Baudelaire’s Harmonie du soir (“Le violon frémit comme un coeur qu’on afflige,”), but This Midnight Hour was impressive even if I didn’t get that other level. There's no rule, whatsoever that poems have to be set word for word !

Although Britten didn't join the International Brigades in Spain, he believed passionately in their cause and was traumatized by Franco's victory.  Heartsick, Britten feared that Europe would become engulfed in fascism, and needed to get away. His Violin Concerto is a product of that period of intense despair.  Britten and Pears left Britain in April, 1939, when war seemed far away, and returned at some danger during hostilities to help the war effort as non-combatants. Those who have never heard his Violin Concerto may have thought him a coward but do not realize that it takes moral courage to write a deeply uncomforting statement like this.  Perhaps only now can we appreciate its place in the canon of major works by a composer who thought more deeply about society than most.

From a hushed string introduction, the violin (soloist Vilde Frang) rose, against an understated but ominous background of percussion and brass. Despite the lyricism of the violin line, the idea of war lurked, with menace.  Hollow pizzicato suggested agitation.  The second movement has the character of nightmare scherzo, a battery of strings, brass and percussion battling with the violin, which remains detached. Oramo shaped the tumult carefully bringing out the huge, angular blocks of sound, booming bassoons,  spikey details in the strings, rumbling drums, creating contrast with the violin. In the cadenza, Frang's pristine style lit up the dizzying diminuendo : not a defeat so much as "tactical withdrawal".  In the passacaglia, descending notes from the brass moved in careful procession. Now the violin line was haunted by other strings, mumuring as if heard from afar. Eventually an anthem builds up, the brass no longer against the soloist, but leading forwards.  Tense, brittle figures suggested gunfire, but the violin remained uncowed.  A particularly full-throated tutti section,  almost a chorale, violin and orchestra united in common cause.  From the strings, a good suggestion of guitars : the ghosts of the dead in Spain, rising again, led by the violin, marching quietly onward.

A truly "pastoral" Beethoven Symphony no 6, unusually fresh and vernal, which worked well in connection with Britten's Violin Concerto. Perhaps the storm wasn't as overwhelming as usual, but the sense of revitalization Oramo found after it more than compensated.  After the storm, the peasants are revitalized.  Like the fallen in Spain, they will not be defeated. 

Esa-Pekka Salonen, Wing to Wing, Karawane

Esa-Pekka Salonen, composer, the subject of  the Total Immersion Day at the Barbican, London, in December,which came at a busy time before Christmas, and coincided with Suomi 100 celebrations. Too muchn to take in all at once. Fortunately the Salonen concerts are now on BBC Radio 3 (link here). A great opportunity to hear Salonen's Wing to Wing (2004) again with Anu and Piia Komsi, for whom the work was conceived.  The Komsi sisters are almost mirror images of each other: both are coloraturas of unusually wide range and vocal agility. They have an instinctive closeness to each other which other pairs of singers can't quite equal. Symmetry is part of the concept of Wing to Wing, so the Komsis can probably do it better than anyone else.  I heard the UK premiere of the work at the Barbican in May 2006. Over the years, the Komsi sisters  have done it so many times that they've grown into it as naturally as if they were part of the organism.
"Wing to wing" is a sailing term  which describes the way sails can  be aligned to maximize wind flow. As the wind changes, the sails move. The interaction between the free flowing breeze and the flat surfaces of the sails controls the movement of the boat. The vessel is sailed by this interplay between nature and machine. Wing to Wing is an "architectural" piece because Salonen employs sound to create a structure within which natural forces can flow. Thus the flurrying lines which suggest the movement of wind, water and light, circulating through the structure, modifying, varying and constantly changing  The architect Frank Gehry's disguised voice is embedded into the music, adapted so that it becomes part of the "building". The Komsi sisters' voices soar and fly, suggesting the sound of seabirds flying in the open air, the percussion below them perhaps representing the urban landscape, often twining as if in spirals. Sometimes their lines are long and searching, as if probing the dimensions of space around them.  And sometimes, the turbulence clears and stillness reigns, sparkling repeated notes against clean, clear woodwinds, before we descend into sonorous depths.  Music as sculpture, almost as tactile as it is aural.  I've heard Salonen conduct Wing to Wing and also Jukka-Pekka Saraste.  Sakari Oramo is different to Salonen, but very good because he has an intuitive feeling for the inherent richness of the piece, and the BBCSO now seem to have it in their blood.
More symmetry and spatial awareness in Salonen's Karawane (2013-14) where the BBC Symphony Chorus joined the BBC SO. Here the symmetry is processional : vaguely exotic timbres, suggesting a caravan weaving its way through some strange landscape.  Steady rhythms give way to swirling chromatic textures. The voices sing rareified cadences that rise and fall, like the movement of caravans pulled by animals.  Tempi pick up, and playful staccato patterns emerge - choppy vocal fragments against pounding brass.  A violin materializes, playing a strange melody, like the song of a sad siren, lost in the desert.  Textures thin out and the pure sound of a flute calls as if into the distance of the night. Rustling sounds, timpani thud ominously and the voices are strange low murmurs which lead to more frenzied passages where the voices shout "Way !".  Ostinato exclamations in the orchestra, which build up in speed, like an engine jerking into action. Through these changes of pace and rhythm, Salonen progresses the piece so its component parts move as if in formation.    A glorious ending, swaying and waving in wacky waywardness. Conceptually strong and a good piece, yet sparkling with wit and good humour. 
Nicholas Daniel was the soloist in Salonen's Mimo II (1992) where the oboe "sings" with the winds and brass in the orchestra while the strings swirl round them. Slightly reminiscent of a Stravinsky ballet though the whimsy in the oboe part is quite distinctively Salonen. 

Finland Awakes ! Sibelius and Oramo : Finnish Centenary Celebrations

Finland Awakes ! Sakari Oramo celebrated the 100th anniversary of the Declaration of Finnish Independence with the BBC Symphony Orchestra at the Barbican Hall, London . What a sense of occasion !  A remarkable performance even by their usual high standards, so powerful and passionate that it will long be remembered.   Sibelius symbolizes Finland to the west. The popularity of his music, especially in Britain, ensured public support for Finland in its long struggle for freedom from Russia.  When the Soviet Union occupied Eastern Europe after 1945, that legacy kept Finland safe. Music as cultural, identity, shaping politics and history.

Sibelius's Press Celebrations Music was veiled protest. Ostensibly written as a fundraiser for press pensions, it struck a raw nerve at a point when the Russians were attempting to tighten control over Finland and its press. The painting at right, by Edvard (Eetu) Isto, is Hyökkäys (The Attack). (1899)  The girl represents Finlandia.  She's holding a book which contains the laws of Finland, The book wields off an attack by a two-headed eagle - the symbol of Russia.  Isto, born the same year as Sibelius,  was an artist who made paintings of nature and folkoric allegory, as did Sibelius's brother-in-law, Eero Järnefelt, and their friend, Akseli Gallen-Kallela. From paintings to music : Sibelius created the music as a series of "tableaux" depicting key events in Finnish history.  
The first tableau is Väinämöinen's Song, its mysteries evoking the primeval world of the Kalevala.  In the second tableau, the Finnish people are converted to Christianity, significantly western Christianity, not the Russian Orthodox Church. This is further affirmed by the third tableau, Duke John in the Castle at Turku. Horns and pipes connect medieval Finland to Sweden and a time of prosperity, which would be shattered in the Thirty Years War, the first true "world war" when Finland was occupied by Russia in the"Years of Hate" (1714-21). The painting below is Burnt Village (1879) by Albert Edelfeldt. The woman is trying to protect what's left of her family- their village is burning in the background.   The Great Hate tableau is disturbingly dramatic, and connects well with Finlandia, though Finlandia with its heartfelt optimism will always be more popular. 

Sibelius himself conducted the premiere in Helsinki on 4th November 1899. Over the years the work underwent numerous changes, the seventh movement "Finlandia Awakes!" becoming the now famous stand alone Finlandia op 26, which also exists in several versions.  The full score was restored, edited and recorded only in 1999, so this UK premiere wasn't as long overdue as might be supposed. This new performance with Oramo and the BBC SO was so vivid that it completely eclipsed the first recording : Oramo/BBCSO is the new benchmark.
Two Pieces op 77, (1914))  Cantique and Devotion in the version for cello and orchestra followed, featuring soloist Guy Johnston, The cello is more mournful, deeper than a violin.  In the context of Oramo's programme this was appropriate because these are fairly private works, as opposed to the public persona of the Music for Press Celebrations.  But the spirit of 1899 prevailed once again, with Sibelius's Symphony no 1 op 39 (1899-1900). Hearing the symphony after the tableaux highlights the stylistic breakthrough. It's as if Sibelius's soul was being liberated. The violin part - Sibelius's own instrument - flies free, then invigorates the orchestra with its exuberance. Here, the andante sounded particularly moving, reminding me of the "hands on heart" theme in Finlandia. . Individual figures  in the wind and strings were particularly beautiful, lighting the way for the grand surges  in larger ensemble.  Tempi speed up into whirlwind, then retreat, and the heartfelt motif returned, warm and confident.  The scherzo moved briskly, opening out to a clearing where individual instruments again took centre place.  A romp, wild but purposeful: An exhilarating way to celebrate a hundred years of nationhood and artistic progress.

Sakari Oramo Sibelius 3 Ravel Franck Schmitt

Sakari Oramo's saga through Sibelius with the BBC Symphony Orchestra at the Barbican London  got into stride with Sibelius Symphony no 3 op 52 (1907).  Sibelius symphonies we can hear any time, and Oramo's very, very good, so the challenge lies in programming. How do the combinations work to enhance Sibelius? In the first concert in this series, the answers were obvious - the perennial Sibelius 5 with Richard Strauss and Alban Berg.  In this second concert we heard Sibelius  with César Franck's Symphonic Variations, Ravel's Piano Concerto for the Left Hand (soloist Jean-Efflam Bavouzet)  and Florent
Schmitt's Symphony no 2 op 1957. Ostensibly a curious choice, but on reflection, rather interesting.
Sibelius Symphony no 3 isn't as omnipresent as Sibelius 5 and 7, both so remarkable that they are frequently recorded together, though less often performed together live :  an experience too overwhelming for either audience or orchestra.  Sibelius's Third, like his Sixth, is more rarified, almost more "Finlandia" than Finlandia (1899).  Its impulse is distinctively"Finnish"   But it was written long before Finland was free from Russia.  Thus the political and artistic need for a uniquely Finnish identity. The revival of interest in the Kalevala and in the heartlands of Karelia shaped Sibelius's artistic imagination.  In this third symphony, Sibelius engages with an aesthetic that seems inspired by open horizons, clean air and fresh springs flowing from melting ice, water, a landscape where people live close to Nature, uncorrupted by the excess of "civilization".  Hence the picture at left of Lake Keitele, by Sibelius's close friend Akseli Gallen-Kalleja, painted in 1905, and his painting Clouds above a Lake, above, from the same period.  Notice the almost abstraction, capturing essence with free spirited spontaneity. The complete opposite of 19th century over-elaborate excess. A similar aesthetic informed the Secession first in Munich, then Vienna, and influenced the Impressionists and Art Nouveau in France.

Sibelius Symphony no 3 is relatively short, three movements in which ideas are compressed with a clarity which even harks back to Classical Antiquity as defined by 18th century idealism.  The symphony begins with a theme which will later become almost a Sibelius signature - rushing, angular rhythms for strings, celli and basses lit by single calls from brass, leading passages of exquisite simplicity where individual, woodwinds sing.

Oramo defined the pace with vivid energy, so details shine. The suggestion of bells (on a cart?) , spiralling figures that fly like objects blown in a breeze.  Strong chords, before the music subsides into chorale-like serenity. The mood in the second movement is quieter and more mysterious. Single notes plucked with deliberate clarity, shimmering, dark hued strings, lit by single instrument figures dancing elusively. The flowing rhythms returned, more muted, but persistent.  Wonderful symmetry between the first two movements, elegantly  executed, which are in turn reflected in the final movement.  Edgy rushing rhythms resolve into firm blocks of sound then to a glorious coda which shone with positive affirmation.  Clarity over chaos,  multiple life forms operating in cohesion. Like Nature itself.

Thus the wisdom of pairing Sibelius 3 with César Franck's Symphonic Variations, where themes differ and vary yet hold together, supported by coherent logic.  Flowing energy in the performance too. In each concert in this series, a concertante piece, so this time one for piano, in Ravel's Piano Concerto for the Left Hand . Jean-Efflam Bavouzet is relatively new to the piece but played with great depth of feeling, which I appreciated, since the piece was written in response to tragedy. Paul Wittgenstein lost his right hand in war. His career would have ended were it not for friends like Ravel. (On the BBC rebroadcast, it was mentioned that Bavouzet's mother, who loved the piece, died a short while ago). It's a virtuoso piece which requires superb technique, proving that a good player can do more with one hand than some can do with two. Florent Schmitt's Symphony no 2 op 134 (1957).  received an infinitely better performance than it got from Leif Segestam. Oramo has clearly thought about the piece, analysing its merits, and the BBCSO is grande luxe compared to some of the orchestras who've done Schmitt.  (read my piece on Antony and Cleopatra here)  Schmitt's best works are those where florid colours conjure images of exotic luxury but the Symphony is lower key. It's by no means "old fashioned", since it reflects a lot of music from the 1930's to 50's and later. Glitter rather than 24K.  It's pleasant but without the inventive flair of Stravinsky or the panache of Korngold.  At the age of 87, Schmitt might have been enjoying a retrospective of his own, which is fair enough.

Coming up in the BBC SO Sibelius series :

29/11 Sibelius 6 & 4 with Anders Hillborg Violin Concerto

6/12 Sibelius 1, Press Celebrations and works for cello

6/1/18 Sibelius 2 & 7. Luonnotar (Anu Komsi) and Aare Merikanto Ekho

Renée Fleming at the Proms Barber Nielsen Oramo

Prom 61 : Renée Fleming sang Samuel Barber Knoxville: Summer of 1915 and Strauss with Sakari Oramo conducting the Royal Stockholm Philharmonic Orchestra (Konserthuset Stockholm), , in a programme that included  Carl Nielsen's Symphony no 2 "The Four Temperaments" and Andrea Tarrodi's Liguria.  Though the Nielsen was the highlight of the performance - done with great verve - BBC marketing played up the diva, whom most of the audience had come to hear. And rightly so, for Fleming is more than just a singer, she's a personality of such stature that any opportunity to hear her now should be cherished.

For me, the draw was Samuel Barber's Knoxville: Summer of 1915 op 24 (1948), an astonishing beautiful piece which I love dearly. There's nothing quite like it.  It's a stream-of-consciousness reverie, heard through a haze of orchestration, evoking what it feels like to be young and protected, still within the embrace of loved ones.  It is high summer,in Tennessee, inn the cool of the evening after a long, hot day. "...It has become that time of evening when people sit on their porches, rocking gently and talking gently and watching the street and the standing up into their sphere of possession of the trees, of birds' hung havens, hangars."  Note the melody with its sense of slow, rhythmic movement, as if the whole world was a cradle, rocking gently in the breeze.  Nothing much happens, and that's the beauty.  In the quietude, even the tiniest detail is lovingly observed, like the streetcar in this distance,  whose "iron whine rises on rising speed; still risen, faints; halts; the faint stinging bell; rises again, still fainter, fainting, lifting, lifts, faints foregone: forgotten."

Time itself seems to slow down and compress. The moment is so precious that the text lingers on images, trying to make them last as long as possible.  Thus the sudden exaltations, with inventive non-words created spontaneously.  "..They are not talking much, and the talk is quiet, of nothing in particular, of nothing at all. The stars are wide and alive, they seem each like a smile of great sweetness, and they seem very near.".   Eventually even the images shrink to their most instinctive essence. The poet is an infant again, the very idea of Self erased,nestledbackin the womb. .  "All my people have larger bodies than mine". But this nostalgia is doomed. The text takes on the semblance of prayer.  Time cannot stand still. These people will die. It's that sense of fragility and loss that makes Barber's Knoxville 1915 such a special piece.

This also makes it more difficult to perform than might seem at first.  The orchestration is deceptively simple - a  sensual woodwind melody, gentle strings, soft rocking rhythms, which need to be created with restraint yet deep feeling.   Received wisdom suggests that the singer should sound child-like, but I'm not so sure, for the protagonist is clearly someone who has grown old and learned what it means to lose what's closest and dearest.  Somehow the singer has to evoke both perspectives at once : artfulness, but without artifice.  There are many recordings, but very few get it right.  Better, I think, simple sincerity.  More than ten years ago, I heard a performance so self consciously over the top that I still shudder. (NOT Renée Fleming)  So  I'm so glad that Renée Fleming has at last commercially released a recording of  Barber's Knoxville Summer of 1915 (with Oramo and the RSPO) because the gap in the discography needs her.  Now, she's no ingénue and needs effort to project in the Royal Albert Hall. If that means sacrificing clarity of text,, for musical line, that's fine by me. She's  still good value.  She was on more familiar ground with the Transformation scene (Ich komme) from Richard Strauss Daphne.

Carl Nielsen's Symphony no 2 "The Four Temperaments" (Op 16, 1902)  describes the  four temperaments - Choleric, Phlegmatic, Melancholic and Sanguine. An interesting companion  piece to Barber's Knoxville the Summer of 1915.   Nielsen, though, defines each mood with greater expansiveness. With glee, even.  One can imagine Nielsen's exuberant high spirits poking fun at people taking themselves too seriously.  There's a famous set of photos for which Nielsen posed, squirming and grunting, twisting his face in exaggerated emotion.  Please see my post here for more photos)  Sakari Oramo is one of the top Nielsen conductors around.  Indeed, he did the Nielsen symphonies as a group in parallel to a similar set around the same time as did John  Storgårds.  Both conductors are good because they have distinctively individual approaches which highlight aspects of the composer's idiom. Oramo's positive-thinking geniality works extremely well, especially in this symphony where each Temperament needs to be defined with almost anarchic humour.  Earthy playing from the Royal Stockholm players, with lots of mischevious spark.  Definitely the high point of the whole evening ! 


The Prom began with Andrea Tarrodi's Liguria, a world premiere, an atmospheric piece evoking the moods of the landscape or seascape around Liguria. Rich, full bodied sounds, moving on multiple levels at once, as dense and teeming in detail as the ocean is.  A central passage where clarinets, flutes and oboes dance together before lively percussion and pizzicato figures. In a third section, the pace and textures build up before detumesence in sparkling figures, lit by tolling bells.  A very well written piece that deserves to be heard again in a programme that gives it more prominence.

Prom Oramo Elgar Symphony no 3 BBC SO

Sakari Oramo,BBC SO.  photo :BBC

Sakari Oramo conducted Elgar Symphony no 3 in the performing edition by Anthony Payne, at Prom 51, with the BBC SO.  Big event, because Oramo is one of the great Elgar conductors,. Oramo was Chief Conductor of the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra during the 150th anniversary of Elgar's birth. Since Elgar was so closely associated with Birmingham, this was no concert series, but a kind of pilgrimage, attracting the most intense of Elgar devotees. Oramo's performances were outstanding, so much so that he was awarded the first ever Elgar Society Award, despite strong competition. True Elgar fans, whose primary concern is excellence, not the nationality of the conductor.  So please, let us have no more from those who keep harping on about the novelty of a Finn conducting Elgar.  Elgar was championed in Germany before the First World War. A political, not musical eclipse.  Sibelius was championed in Britain very early on in his career, as were Janáček, and Dvořák  We need to get over thinking in insular terms.

Ten years on from those Birmingham concerts, Oramo is even more impressive, his intuitive grasp of Elgar's idiom enriched by maturity, enhanced by the BBC Symphony Orchestra, playing extremely well,  "as if to the manner born", not "manor", for Elgar was someone whom all can relate to.  Oramo brings out the warmth and humanity in Elgar, wonderfully life affirming and fresh.

Elgar did not write a "cycle" of symphonies, completing only two.  The Third is a realization of the sketches he left, elaborated by Anthony Payne, who lived and breathed Elgar so intuitively that this completion is as close as we're ever likely to get to what might have been.   A friend messaged me last night after the Prom. "When are they going to "Sir" Anthony Payne?" And so they should. Payne and his wife  Jane Manning are venerable presences in British music and deserve recognition.

How fortunate we are to have this realization.  It flows freely as if Elgar had become rejuvenated again after a long fallow period.  The introductory passage surged, full of expansive confidence, strong chords giving way to lighter, brighter passages before a typically "Elgarian" flourish.  Oramo brought out the contrasts between turbulence and serenity, suggesting ebullience in the face of despair. The warm-hearted scherzo, an allegretto particularly suited to Oramo's personal style,was well shaped, with an edge of disquiet creeping in, developed further in the third movement. This moved like a waltz, elegantly poised, but veiled,as if being remembered from the past.  Particularly lovely,sad strings. with just enough rubato to suggest the palpitations of the heart.  From this rose the woodwind theme, soaring upwards to a new,more expansive plane. But the mood darkened, underpinned by ominous timpani. Soulful surges,strings, brass and woodwinds together, leading into a section so refined that it seemed to shimmer in haze.  In the Finale, the mood of confidence returns in a march of sorts, with a firm tread, lit by cymbals..Though a sense of unease remains (single chords and a wavering melody) the movement ends affirmatively. Brass figures rise,joined by winds, and "Elgarian" richness in the strings,culminating not in fanfare,but in lingering glow.,with quietly tapping tam tam.   This is important, since Elgar didn't live to complete the piece. It should not end in certainity, but in ambiguity, as a mark of respect.

Before Elgar, Sibelius: Scènes historiques, Suite No. 1 and Saint-Saëns: Piano Concerto No.2 in G minor, with Javier Perianes.

Inspirational Mahler Symphony no 2 Sakari Oramo BBC SO Prom

Prom 45 2017 - BBC SO, Sakari Oramo photo : BBC

Powerfully Inspired Mahler Symphony no 2 "The Resurrection", with Sakari Oramo and the BBC SO, soloists Elizabeth Watts and Elisabeth Kulman with the BBC Symphony Chorus and the Bach Choir,  Prom 45. Because we hear Oramo and the BBC SO so many times each year, we take them for granted.  But they are a formidably good band.  Yet here they surpassed even their normal high standards.  This was an extraordinarily moving Mahler 2. The performance was dedicated to the memory of Jiří Bělohlávek, the former Chief Conductor, who loved this orchestra and was loved by them in return.  Please read my piece Jiří Bělohlávek : a tribute to the innovator and to the man.  Bělohlávek last conducted the BBC SO a few weeks before his death, so this performance with Oramo felt unusually personal and sincere.  But it was also masterful, lively and spirited, with depth and insight, which is saying something,  since there are so many Mahler 2's around all the time, only the very finest, like this one, live on in the memory.
From the very first chords, it was clear that this would be nothing routine. The zing in the strings felt disturbing, even dangerous, for the symphony is a journey into unknown territory. Thus the ferocious tension, timpani, clashing cymbals and brass ablaze, alternating with long, keening string lines. reaching out into space.  Then into the funeral march with its steady tread, reminding us of humility. Life inevitably comes to an end, for all mankind, whatever their station.  But for a moment, we heard again the lyrical pastoral theme, like a distant memory.  This performance highlighted how the unrelenting march continued, quietly, in the background, despite the anguish around it.  Quiet, purposeful pizzicato, like footsteps, lead into savage brass climaxes, creating the sense of hard-won stages on a difficult ascent. It's interesting how Mahler contrasts powerful tutti with solo instruments: individuals clearly defined despite the overwhelming forces around them.  Yet again the march continued, the horns blowing eerily, full of incident and detail, but relentless, though the vigour with which Oramo marked the sudden, spiralling denouement showed such defiance that it felt as though the music was mocking death itself.
The Allegro maestoso harks back to happier times. It's warm hearted and human scaled (very Sakari Oramo). Delicate pizzicato footsteps and the ring of harps.  But repose doesn't last.  The third movement, marked 'In ruhig fließender Bewegung' flowed with vigorous expansiveness: no surprise that Luciano Berio used it in Sinfonia as a metaphor for life and for the continuation of creative imagination.  The BBC SO strings seemed to come alive : lissom playing, suggesting the fishes leaping out of water, their scales shining, unbothered by St Antonius's moralizing. "So there" shouted the timpani, for emphasis.  Again, Oramo marked the sudden denouement, from which sprang the anthem O Röschen rot!  Elisabeth Kullman's voice has a lovely, glowing timbre, well suited to expressing the light in Urlicht, for it is light that leads the soul onwards.
The brass fanfare was bright, too, but also sombre and quirky, almost like primeval instruments from ancient times.  Again the surging "footsteps", reinforced by lighter, dancing figures, before the fanfare returned.  The searching string chords, and wailing brass might suggest mourning, but they also mark the beginning of a new phase, as the march moved forward, purposefully. With a clatter of percussion and brass, and the crash of cymbals, the music rose to a glorious climax : woodwinds singing gleefully, the string lines expansive.  Have we reached a peak ? Again, Oramo highlighted the contrast between this glory and the massive, overpowering roll that follows, intense because it marks the Dies Irae, the Days of Wrath at the End of Time.  Now the march continued with tight but taut energy. Almost wild abandon, though the BBC SO players are far too good to lose momentum by not keeping together.  Yet again, the crescendi dissolved into pure, refined textures.   Penitent, reverent strokes of the harps, then the brass, from above and below, the latter earthier and more plaintive.  Two trumpets call out, stretching out into space, uniting Heaven and Earth. The woodwinds sang brightly, creating images of light and movement. 
The BBC Symphony Chorus and the Bach Choir  entered quietly, in hushed reverence. British choirs are astonishingly good, and we shouldn't take them for granted.  "Aufersteh'n, ja aufersteh'n Wirst du, Mein Staub,..."  Exceptionally lucid singing.  Trumpets called out, as if reaching beyond a horizon.  Just as the earthly and heavenly brass united,  Elisabeth Kulman and Elizabeth Watts sang together, the choruses encircling them like a halo of sound, joined later by high winds and strings.  Kulman sang "O Glaube" her voice resolute, "Du wardst nicht umsonst geboren! Hast nicht umsonst gelebt, gelitten!"   Being born means struggle, but life is not in vain.  This resolution - resurrection -  is, it has been reached by inner strength and determination.  That's when an orchestra as good as the BBC SO shows its mettle. Its technical excellence inspired by intense, personal committment wrought miracles tonight.

Siren Call - Oramo, Sibelius Nielsen Glanert

Sinister mysteries of the sea and malevolence! Sakari Oramo and the BBC Symphony Orchestra in a superlative programme: Sibelius Lemminkäinen Suite, Op.22, with Carl Nielsen An Imaginary Journey to the Faroe Islands and Detlev Glanert's Megaris. inspired by ancient legend.  An atmospheric concert so rewarding that it deserves repeat listening - catch it HERE on BBC Radio 3.

This was the UK premiere of Glanert's Megaris: Seestück mit Klage der toten Sirene (2014-15)  It's a fascinating piece that takes as a starting point the legend that Partenope, the siren, washed up dead on the rocks at Megaris, once an island off the coast of Sicily, now part of the conurbation.  Sirens don't exist, except in myth, but are powerful symbols. They're also pagan. Yet Partenope's relics are supposedly buried in a church on the fortress of Castel dell'Ovo on rocks which jut onto the sea.  Contradictions! Thus layers of myth and meaning, which Glanert incorporates into the complex, shifting textures of his music. Megaris is elusive, but seductive, like the sirens whose songs drove mortals to their deaths. Partenope died because she failed in her mission:  Odysseus escaped by blocking his ears. Partenope's death is romantic and a lure for tourists. But bodies still wash up on shores all over the Mediterranean. Do we listen to their voices?   Far too often, audiences block out new music on principle, lest they be seduced and change, but Glanert's Megaris is compelling.  

From offstage, hidden singers  (the BBC Singers) intone strange harmonies. the lines long, keening, stretching out into space. The orchestra responds. Timpani are beaten in solemn progression, high winds cry plaintively, flying over massed strings and massed choral voices, singing a wordless chorus of vowel sounds.  The pace quickens and the orchestra breaks into a flurry of dissonances, the percussion adding menace, the strings whipped into frenzy. Yet the voices won't be silenced, singing short, sharp sounds, as if imitating the orchestral passage that went before. A strange stillness descends. the voices hum as do the strings: haunting, seamless abstract sound from which the voices materialize. led by the sopranos.  A subtle interplay of tonal colour. The voices then rise, singing short, urgent phrases and the orchestra flies back to life with complex cross-currents. O-A-O-E,, the voices sing, urgently. Another violent tutti, ending with a crash of cymbals before a mysterious stillness descends : silvery, circulating sounds lit by brass, the voices now whispering surreal chant.  The crash of a gong: then a solo soprano, calling wordlessly into the void.  Atmospheric, magical, beautiful, yet also unsettling.  Lots more on Glanert on this site, please explore. 

The four legends in Sibelius Lemminkäinen Suite describe the adventures of Lemminkäinen in the epic saga of the Kalevala. Oramo's approach was fresh and lively, suggesting the young hero's erotic vigour. The Kalevala isn't prissy!  This highlighted the contrast between the hero and the Swan of  Tuonela, the mysterious symbol of the Island of the Dead.  Unlike other birds, a swan does not sing until it dies, so killing the swan implies some mystical rite. Lemminkäinen, like Parsifal, thinks he can kill a swan, but in the process is killed himself and brought back to life. The Lemminkäinen Suite is much more than programme music.  The swan's "voice" is the cor anglais, solemn, mournful and seductive, perhaps not so different from a siren.  Beautiful playing from the BBC SO's soloist.  In the final section, Lemminkäinen's Return, Oramo brought out depth of meaning. The hero is restored, but he's strong because he's learned along the way. 

Oramo is emerging as a major interpreter of Carl Nielsen, having conducted a lot of Nielsen with the BBC SO in recent years. This performance of Nielsen's  An Imaginary Journey to the Faroe Islands (1927) was authoritative, and very individual.  The five sections in this piece form an arc, tone poem as miniature symphony, in a way. Oramo accentuated the contrast between movements which gives the piece such élan. The lugubrious undercurrents in the first section speed up as land approaches, quirky little flourishes from the winds suggesting sea birds on the coast.  This music has the feel of the seas, the orchestra surging as if propelled by powerful waves. Can we hear in the dances echoes of hardy Lutheran chorale? Nielsen had a wry sense of humour, as does Oramo. Perhaps that's why they suit each other so well.  Bracing stuff !

Saariaho True Fire Gerald Finley Sakari Oramo BBC SO

Kaija Saariaho's True Fire, with Gerald Finley at the Barbican London, with the BBC SO with Sakari Oramo conducting.  Saariaho has produced masterpieces, like Orion (2002) a breathtakingly beautiful evocation of starlight and mystery, but occasionally has lapses like Adriana Mater. But her music is too distinctive to dismiss.  In True Fire  she breaks into new territory.  The characteristic washes of multi-tonal, multi-coloured oscillation remain, but darker hues prevail. intensifying the elusive danger that lurks within Saariaho's music, which is far too often overlooked.. True Fire has a dark soul, and is all the better for it.

Saariaho's regular muse is Karita Mattila, for whom she wrote Mirages, premiered in 2008 also at the Barbican, London.  True Fire is a companion pieces to some extent, being very different on many levels, Mirage making the most of Mattila's grand dramatic intensity, while True Fire  is more suited to Finley's baritonal hues.  He's been a Saariaho regular too, for many years. singing Jaufré Rudel in L'amour de loin when Esa-Pekka Salonen conducted it in Helsinki more than ten years ago, the performance immortalized on DVD.  (Please read my review of the Met version ).  True Fire works as an exploration of Finley's timbre : colours and shadings again, and much variety in the setting.

This time the music is structured and channelled in a purposeful direction. Three "propositions", based on Ralph Waldo Emerson frame sections based on Seamus Heaney, a Native American lullaby and a text by the poet Mahmoud Darwish.  Introduced by the rumbling first "proposition" the section "River" flows strongly.   Words like "Thirst", "Night" and "River" are repeated in circular motion, "flowing, flowing". Strong currents in the orchestra, lit by fractured cells of sound which en masse sparkle with  light.  Gradually the flow subsides and Finley's voice rises to the top of his register, gradually fading.   The second proposition is particularly lush - bell-like sonorities, bright percussion, swathes of strings: "In silence" , Finley intones, barely above a growl.  Strange rocking rhythms in the Lullaby, a vigorous introduction moments of sparkling light. "In the west a dark flower blossoms, and now lightning flashes"  Again, circular forms . "Oh, oh, oh, my little one", repeating  like a set of mini-variations, the rocking rhythms taken up again in the orchestra -  hushed cymbals and gongs   In contrast "Farewell" began with hollow but carefully paced intonation  lit by short passages of orchestral complexity. "Don't wait for anyone, in the crowd", sang Finley with understated ferocity, consonants tightly clipped, the word "Narcissus" sharply sinister.  The last "proposition" is an extended diminuendo, voice and orchestra slowly proceeding towards an ending which glows, muted but forceful. What is the "true fire" in the text ? All may be fading around it but something remains firm and pure.

Sakari Oramo conducted the BBC Symphony Orchestra at very short notice, receiving the score for the first time on Tuesday for Thursday evening's concert.  Fortunately he knows Saariaho's idiom well, and his rapport with the BBC SO is instinctive and strong. They've done a lot of Saariaho too, over the years. They know that this music works best when it flows naturally, like an organic form, without being pushed and pulled.  On the basis of this performance, I think True Fire is a keeper. It fits Finley like a glove, so he'll be able to sing it well for years to come, after which other baritones can enjoy its riches.   Before True Fire, Tchaikovsky's Romeo and Juliet, and afterwards, Prokofiev Symphony no 5. well played but the real news is Saariaho. 

Antony and Cleopatra, Schmitt : Oramo BBCSO

Florent Schmitt's Antony and Cleopatra (Suites no 1 and 2, Op 69, 1920)  with Sakari Oramo conducting the BBC Symphony Orchestra, with movements re-ordered and interspersed with excerpts from Shakespeare, adapted by Bill Barclay of Shakespeare's Globe Theatre, at the Barbican Hall, London.

Lurid colours lit the stage, saturated washes of red and gold. Aquamarine lights shone on the platform floor, spotlights glowed on the sheets the musicians were playing from. The music was equally lurid, beginning with a wildly exuberant fanfare  Not a military display so much as statecraft as theatre. Perhaps Cleopatra, like many rulers since, knew you can dazzle others even if you don't have much in the way of firepower.  So spoke Enobarbus, describing Cleopatra to his fellow Romans : 

"The barge she sat in, like a burnish’d throne,
 Burned on the water: the poop was beaten gold "

No wonder Ida Rubinstein - another  extravagant diva - wanted to portray her and asked André Gide to create a spectacular showcase. Stravinsky was asked to provide the incidental music since he, Diaghilev and Rubinstein had worked together since the early days of the Ballets Russe, For various reasons he demurred.  Florent Schmitt's Antony and Cleopatra quotes so explicitly from The Rite of Spring that one wonders what Stravinsky might have thought, particularly as the angular "primitivism" of the Rite is overlaid with elaborate decorative ornamentation.  Barely seven years before, the Rite of Spring had scandalized Paris, causing a near riot. In Schmitt's Antony and Cleopatra, the fierce chords depict the Battle of Actium so graphically that you can almost visualize ships battling on the open ocean.  Swashbuckling stuff!  Consider Erich Korngold's infinitely more original Die  tote Stadt which also premiered in 1920, with great success, pretty much inventing a new musical genre.   In the 1920's movies were silent, but spectacular. Consider Jacques Feyder's L'Atlantide (1921) where the Queen of Atlantis lives in North Africa. But what we now call film music had its roots in popular music for the stage. Exoticism is a theme that has such deep roots in the French aesthetic that its influences are felt far beyond specifically exotic subjects.
Japonisme shaped Debussy : Africa shaped Picasso.

Orientalism in France has a long pedigree, dating back to Napoleon's campaigns in Egypt , bearing fruit in an enduring fascination with different exotic locales, which manifested itself in painting, literature and music.  Berlioz La mort de Cléopatre, and Les Troyens, Bizet's The Pearl Fishers, Délibes Lakmé. Massenet Le roi de Lahore, and the songs of Maurce Delage and Jaubert.  Ida Rubinstein's Cleopatra was part of a huge surge of public interest in things Egyptian which influenced fashion, decorative arts and popular culture, which still prevails today. The French Shakespeare tradition goes back to Charles Kemble, and carried no cultural baggage. Berlioz's Roméo et Juliette, for example, is very much an original work, not a setting of the play Thus Rubinstein's Cleopatra, via Gide, is part of a much wider cultural theme.


This Antony and Cleopatra was part of a year-long celebration of Shakespeare all over Britain. Hence the high-profile production, with the BBC SO, the flagship of the BBC stable of orchestras.  Schmitt probably doesn't get luxury performances like this too often. Sakari Oramo conducted with panache, he and his orchestra clearly enjoying the big brass effects and theatricality. At one point, the actors "spoke" to Oramo, who is noted for his good-natured geniality. He beamed and acknowledged them without missing a beat. 

"Purple the sails, and so perfumèd that The winds were lovesick with them. The oars were silver, Which to the tune of flutes kept stroke, and made The water which they beat to follow faster, As amorous of their strokes"

The actors were Janie Dee (Cleopatra), Simon Paisley Day (Antony), Brendan O'Hea , Cassie Layton and Tom Kanji. The Director was Iqbal Khan.  Shakepeare's Globe isn't Stratford but earthier.  there's not much you can do about staging at the Barbican,  but then Shakespeare's own productions seem to have been closer to Greek ideas than to Hollywood.  The concert was recorded for broadcast at a later date, but I'm glad I saw it live.

Juan Diego Florez saves the Last Night of the Proms 2016

Juan Diego Florez saved the Last Night of the BBC Proms 2016.   First, he reminded us that Paddington Bear was an immigrant, from darkest Peru, who arrived, alone and nameless in Paddington Station.  JDF sang star turns, diplomatically avoiding Don Alvaro from La forza del destino. That opera might unsettle some who side instinctively with the Marquis de Calatrava, who hates foreigners.  Florez sang instead a love song in Spanish, celebrating "dark eyes and cinnamon skin". To Paddington Bear, who certainly has cinnamon skin (or fur). With wry humour, JDF defused what might, potentially have been  a very ugly situation in post-Brexit Britain and the intolerance it represents.  Later, dressed as an Inca King, Florez (a Peruvian) dazzled in shining gold. Again, those who know history know that violence can end even the most spectacular of Empires.  Every LNOP in recent years has featured a comic diva or divo, but Florez made a real statement, in a gentle and subtle way.

Seventy years ago, my mother was at the Last Night of the Proms. It was 1946. She'd arrived, a refugee, a stranger in a new land, having spent the war years in a camp.  For her, the LNOP was an affirmation of the ideals that made Britain great in the first place.  Once, Britain shone like a beacon in the world.  It stood for Hope and Glory, dreams built on progress and expansiveness.

I was dreading this Last Night of the Proms, seeing how those ideals have receded into selfishness and insularity.  Flag waving has been a part of the LNOP for years but more benign than vindictive. We didn't defeat Hitler in order to embrace Goebbels-style mass rallies.  Patriotism and jingoism are not the same thing. Indeed, the flags at LNOP have always included those of other nations. Last year, the tricolor and the Marseillaise in honour of those killed in France. Sixteen years ago, subdued respect for the victims of 9/11.  In any case  the Proms have never been about nationalism.  For Sir Henry Wood and Prince  Albert, a German, before him, the pursuit of knowledge, the arts and sciences  meant human progress. Bildung, to use a foreign term, the cultivation of civilized values.  On Thursday afternoon, I watched members of the Staatskapelle Dresden eating picnics near the Albert Memorial before their Prom. Sir Henry, and Prince Albert, would have beamed.

So no need for waving EU flags at the LNOP. Music is international, a river fed by many different streams.  Cultural insularity is a dead end. Without Bach, Mozart, Beethoven, Wagner and much else we'd be impoverished. In any case, the arts industry in Britain is part of a global economy.  Infinitely more worrying, however, was news that Arron Banks was planning to flood the Royal Albert Hall with Union Flags to counteract the waving of the "illegitimate" EU flag.  Banks bankrolled UKIP and Brexit and is apparently planning a new lobby movement outside of the Parliamentary system.    Nothing new in that: rich people have always used wealth to serve their interests.  But the Union Flag means "union", the idea that England, Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland are better off muddling together than squabbling.  Without London, the whole country would collapse. The Union Flag is a symbol of co-operation, not coerciveness, not intimidation, not bullying.

So three cheers and hurrahs for the audience at tonight's Last Night of the Proms 2016, who didn't fall for the bait. Fewer flags this year than for ages, few aggressive big flags and blasts of vuvuzelas.  Instead, people paying attention to the music and not trying to grab attention for themselves.  Phew, what a change !  A pity that, despite some good performances (Duncan Rock singing something unworthy)  the music was diluted by BBC commercialism, but unfortunately that's part of a wider dumbing down.  Sakari Oramo in his quiet good natured way, also helped head off any tension. Who could be mad at a nice guy like that? And so this year, when everyone sang Jerusalem and Land of Hope and Glory,  things didn't seem as bad as they might have been.  That, I thought, was what "Being British" is really all about.

 photo credit : Chris Christodoulou

Oramo BBCSO Butterworth Anna Clyne Elgar

Sakari  Oramo's Elgar credentials are beyond reproach. With the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra, he led the Elgar 150th birthday celebrations, culminating in a stunning series of all three symphonies. He didn't win the Elgar Medal - even before Andrew Davis - for nothing. It was a pleasure to hear him conduct Elgar at the Barbican London this week  with the BBC Symphony Orchestra.

Oramo's traverse of Elgar's Symphony no 2 in E flat major (Op 63) was magisterial, emphasizing the broad sweep of ideas within.  Elgar referred to the piece as "a passionate journey of the soul". With magnificent assurance, Oramo created the motif that suggests the "Spirit of Delight" in the famous quote from Shelley. For a moment it seemed that this glorious serenity might never end, yet disturbing murmurs arose from the brass. What then do we make of the tension that built up with the bristling jagged rhythms?  Early audiences didn't know what to make of this most personal, and most enigmatic, of pieces.  It also heralds the long years ahead when Elgar wrote relatively little. 
Ostensibly,  Elgar was mourning the death of Edward VII. It would be too much to expect that he might, in 1910/11, have intuited the passing of an era. But modern audiences, with hindsight, cannot help but ponder. 

Whatever that "Spirit of Delight" might be, Elgar's elusive second symphony is  mediation on impermanance, especially in the context of the rest of this programme, which began with George Butterworth's A Shropshire Lad Rhapsody. This, too, was written in 1911, when the confidence seemed beyond  challenge.  The  Industrial Revolution started in Britain. A prosperous and urbanized nation ruled the world - literally - through gunboats and trade. British writers like Wordsworth led the romantic revolution in Literature. Yet, while Germans had been exploring folk culture for a hundred years, British composer and intellectuals were just beginning to seek out forgotten oral tradition.  Georgina Boyes's book The Imagined Village (1993) explodes a few myths  about this period, and is essential reading.  Perhaps A E Housman's poems, and the novels of Thomas Hardy, reopened the long-lost mines of nostalgia. 

Butterworth's A Shropshire Lad Fantasy is based on Housman's poem When I was one and twenty, which Butterworth also wrote as a song for voice and piano, as did his friend Ralph Vaughan Williams.  The poem is pristine. Blossoming trees "wear white for Easter tide". But petals fall, and youth grows old. "No use to talk to me".  Oramo and the BBCSO performed it with grace,  capturing the mood of transient magic. There's no room for maudlin sentiment. Butterworth didn't know he was going to be dead in five  years. And, as Housman reminds us, Spring returns every year, whether or not we're there to witness it.  In any6 case, there['s a twist of humour in the piece. The protagonist isn't an old man. He's still only 22  Oramo's approach blended beauty with dignity, far closer to the spirit of the poem, and to Butterworth's music.

That Oramo and the BBCSO do Elgar and Butterworth well is a given. The revelation, on this occasion, was Anna Clyne's The Seamstress, receiving its UK premiere. It's based on a poem by W B Yeats, which tells of a seamstress who embroiders a coat with many colours and images, only to have it stolen. Clyne, British born but resident in the US, adapts the sounds of Irish fiddle playing, creating a keening, other-worldly palette that evokes the past yet is surreal enough to be entirely of the present.  The Seamstress unfolds in five parts, which Clyne calls "ballets" reinforcing the idea of movement and constant change.  The coat is lost, perthaps stolen, but its memory, and the creative urge behind it, remain unsullied. Clyne's The Seamstress is an exceptionally beautiful piece, worth listening to over and over on repeat broadcast.  Jennifer Koh's playing was sensuous and very expressive. An  utterly fascinating piece and performance, perfectly attuned to the emotional spirit of Elgar 2 and Butterworth.