Showing posts with label Proms. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Proms. Show all posts

Saturday, 13 September 2014

Beethoven's Symphony No. 9 : Alan Gilbert conducts Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra for the BBC Proms 75


I had no intention of reviewing Prom 75, the penultimate night before the BBC Proms ended but how could I stop myself? It was Beethoven's Symphony No. 9: the Choral, which as much as it has been over played at international halls since the 1824, hasn't become stale... ever. To put it bluntly, it's just a bloody good symphony. Last year, I saw the Philharmonic orchestra perform with the London Symphony Chorus (who also performed this evening) at the Barbican Centre as part of the Raymond Gubbay tradition, and I still recall fond memories.

All attempts to buy return tickets were out-of-bounds and stall seats were still unaffordable. Alas, at such short notice, I ran to the Royal Albert Hall and stood in the proms arena queue just after 2 o' clock. When it came to 7 o' clock, revellers were dusting themselves off from the September sun filing up the spaces of the 6000-seater auditorium. Prommers were slowly edging into the stage and there sat above the orchestral stage were the multiple choir members (or as I'd like to call them, 'the angelic voices') of the Leipzig Opera Chorus, Leipzig Gewandhaus Choir, Leipzig Gewandhaus Childrens Choir and London Symphony Chorus - phew, that's quite a mouthful.
View as a 'prommer'

The Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra graciously entered the stage shortly followed by the half Japanese, half American conductor Alan Gilbert. Gilbert, originally a violinist, is currently the musical director of the New York Philharmonic who stepped in last moment as Italian conductor Riccardo Chailly, who has conducted the Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra numerous times, had to 'withdraw' due to medical reasons.

To begin the evening was Austrian composer, Friedrich Cerha's Paraphrase on the Opening of Beethoven's Symphony No. 9 which is a piece I'm not familiar with. Yet, it gave me the same unwavering feelings I get when I'm not entirely united with a piece. With all my optimism focused on the headline of the show - hearing xylophones mimic doorbells that descend into a tumultuous caution song of stringent percussion and clashing brass instruments -  Paraphrase wasn't the most ideal piece to perform. Yet, on reflection it made Beethoven's 9th look better. The prolonged stillness of the strings at the very end led to a long silence; the audience wasn't sure when to clap.

Alan Gilbert conducting the Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra (BBC PROMS photos)

The crux of the matter

The first movement's Allegro ma non troppo was full of sustenance, spirit and precision through our mighty conductor. From the arena below, I felt the sonata's bass lines from the cellos under my feet and although considered by some to sound like orchestral tuning, the Leipzig Gewandhaus orchestra knew exactly what they were doing. 
The second movement's Scherzo was just as vibrant and genuine as the first where trombones and timpani unleashed their unique qualities. At times, I noticed unexpectedly from Gilbert that he'd lower his baton and make smaller hand gestures closer to his chest. I wasn't sure if he was just tired or simply saving his energy for the presto in the fouth movement. Nevertheless, at the coda his unflagging baton came out again.

Leipzig Gewandhaus orchestra played songs that sounded like spring as they calmed down after the calamity in the first two movements. This was portrayed through lullaby-esqe flutes, swooping strings that plucked and soared. After feeling like we've just left a Latin mass, the audience came together in universality with Beethoven, Leipzig Gewandhaus, Gilbert and the choir singers, particularly the red jumper wearing Childrens Choir.

The forth movement was expectantly sturdy, loud and exuberant. The audiences knew 'Ode to Joy' too well that they clenched their fist and shook them discreetly to the valiant drums, especially when the skilled ‘angelic voices’ sung 'Ihr stürzt nieder, Millionen?' Christina Landshamer, Gerhild Romberger, Steve Davisliy and Dmitry Belosselskiy's honey soaked voices put the icing on the cake. Belosselskiy introduced the fugue holding onto every deep note with Davisliy seasoned timber as he moved his body to the tone of his joyful voice. 
Gilbert was firm, swaying to Beethoven’s music and moving one side to the other. One moment he'd open his arms wide to the choir singers with a smile and then quickly hunch down to the orchestra with a stern face, hands close together, as he directed the violins to repeat the presto piece.
With four call backs for the quartet and Gilbert, and a standing ovation from me, - well, I was already standing in the arena - I don’t believe even half of the people in the Royal Opera House had ever experienced a Beethoven’s 9th symphony like it. I mean that in a good way. 

 
This prom took place on Friday 12th September. Click here for more information.

Thursday, 28 August 2014

BBC PROM 49: RUSSIAN FAIRY TALES


Proms 49 welcomed the Finnish husband-and-wife team, Chief conductor Sakari Oramo and Anu Komsi with the BBC Symphony Orchestra for a family event filled with fantasy, imagination and Russian Fairy Tales.

Tonight was the UK’s premier of Jukka Tiensuu’s (a well-known Finnish composer) Voice Verser (2012) which is a humorous piece composed for the power of voice. Two trios were located in the arena with prommers either side of the orchestra consisting of wood wind and brass instruments.

The first of the three movements was called Desparia and it depicted no other but an air of despair, eeriness and dreariness through highly chromatic scales and gibberish notes from Komsi.

Notes of sadness and tensions were created by the shrilling of violins, repetitive glissandos and unsettling sounds of what one could interpret as mischievous rats. In slight confusion, Desparia ending with Komsi emulated loud cries of moaning which left the audience possibly dumbfounded, yet amused at the same time by its riveting versatility.

Come was even stranger where Komsi began scat singing, laughing cheerfully and operatically which is where her coloratura abilities slowly seeped through – she sung a high F and a high ‘A, three octaves above middle C’ as she told the proms at an interview. She also blew kisses at the audience which made them giggle in silence, as part of the piece.

The last movement Riiti (ritual in Finnish) was a massive stamp on the ground and a camaraderie ‘Hei’ from the BBC Symphony Orchestra with pounding cellos, basses, input from a celesta and flutters from flutes and clarinets that took the piece to the unknown heavens through sheer excitement and tensions. 

It concluded with all musicians sighing loudly of relief. Komsi sung with finesse: despite being challenged with high notes, she handled them effortlessly.

The proms also premiered Karol Szymanowski’s (1882-1937) Songs of a Fairy Princess (1933) where Szymanowski was motivated by his travels to North Africa (Algeria) and Tunisia in 1914. Although he composed three songs for the original voice-and-piano set, our evening’s conductor, Oramo had completed the cycle with three refined pieces with Golden Slippers, Song of the Wave and The Feast.

Komsi's vocals swirl throughout the piece yet, the focus was the subtle floating Middle-Eastern music and fairy tale elements. Flickering woodwind, piano arabesques, highly pitched flutes and soothing violin solos were heightened by twinkling percussions to resemble the princess’ slippers. It is a truly mystical piece; one cannot decipher where Szymanowski and Oramo’s composed parts begin nor end.

However, Nikolay Rimsky-Korsakov’s moving Scheherazade Op.35 (1888) won the most applause for the night influenced by Glinka-sized orchestra: chirpy piccolos, brass instruments, a pair of woodwind, timpani, percussion, harp and trilling strings. It is the story of a heroine who saves her life by telling her husband, the Sultan magical stories, mostly The Arabian Nights.

Divided into four pieces including The Sea and Sinbad’s Ship, it conjures the most fascination: feat and victory for our storyteller. The development of bassoon solos, then by oboe soon overtaken by tender strings and violin solos enrich the grandiose and curiosity of this masterpiece.

Admittedly, the first piece to open the evening was by Maurice Ravel, The Mother Goose Suite (1911) which did not fit in with the programme. The child-like serenity, the use of Chinese ‘chopstick’ patterns, soft Javanese percussion instruments and pentatonic scales were enchanting, but less dramatic and at a glacial pace compared to the other movements.