Schmitt,
Messiaen:
BBC National Orchestra of Wales, BBC National Chorus of
Wales, Christine Buffle (soprano), Roger Murano (piano),
Jacques Tchamkerten (ondes martinot), conducted by Thierry
Fischer, St. David’s Hall, Cardiff, 07.10.06 (GPu)
This was Thierry Fischer’s debut concert as Principal
Conductor of the BBC National Orchestra of Wales – and
what an ambitious, and largely successful debut, it was!
Fischer, himself Swiss, already has a considerable reputation
as a conductor of French music and in a pre-concert talk
he confirmed that he intended to programme a series of
works by a number of French composers. Fittingly, then,
this debut concert consisted of works by two French composers.
The first of them, Florent Schmitt, belonged to a group
Fischer described as “put in the shadow” of the “autocratic”
Debussy.
Scmitt’s
Psaume XLVII, completed in 1904, is a work of some
grandeur of conception, calling for a large chorus, organ,
sizeable orchestra and an accomplished solo soprano. Stylistically
it is a rather odd mix; there are some bold harmonies
and adventurous orchestration which seem to look forward,
and there is much that is stolidly late Romantic. This
performance brought abundant fervour to the Psaume,
but it achieved clarity of texture only rather inconsistently.
There are problems of balance inherent in the use of such
forces and both choir and soloist were sometimes in serious
danger of being swamped by the orchestra. Certainly the
text was very difficult to distinguish – but that, I suspect,
may be as much the fault of the work as of the performers.
Lesley Hadfield contributed an elegant violin solo and
Christine Buffle had some fine moments when her full-toned
soprano floated out over the considerable body of orchestral
sound, even if there were other passages where she struggled
to keep her head above water. The exultation of the closing
pages was well done – it was perhaps only towards the
end of the piece that everything began to come together.
An interesting, if less than perfect, performance of a
fascinating but flawed and conflicted work.
Substantial
as it is, Psaume XLVII was effectively only a
prelude to the very different grandeurs (and far greater
intimacies) of Messiaen’s ceaselessly amazing Turangalîla
Symphonie. It is remarkable to think that the Turangalîla
was written as long ago as 1949. That it still sounds
so contemporary, more than half a century later, is a
testimony to how much it has shaped and influenced so
much of the music written since. Fischer controlled a
performance which never lost its clear sense of the work’s
complex architecture, resisting the temptation to luxuriate
overmuch in the work’s abundance of beautiful orchestral
detail. In the September 2006 issue of the BBC
Music Magazine, Fischer was the subject of the
regular feature ‘Music that Changed Me’. The last of his
six choices was the Turangalîla Symphonie, which
he described as “full of untouchable sounds: it is naïve,
but it obliges us to open our eyes and ears. It asks us
‘Is life really so serious?’ When I conduct it I just
can’t wait for the next bar, it’s so fantastic, so exciting
… It has a serious essence: if not now, when? When are
you going to love? This is the piece that demands that
you dive in”. Dive in he did, and invited us to follow
him.
For
Fischer this is clearly a work firmly grounded in real
human passion. The beautiful slow string passages in the
first ‘Chant d’amour’ (the second movement) were played
quite ravishingly, full of yearning, thoroughly human
nostalgia – to which only the ondes martinot gave a slightly
unearthly edge. There was both power and a radiant tenderness
to the interpretation of this movement. In the third movement
(‘Turangalîla 1’), an exquisite opening set off to perfection
the troubled music of pain and death which followed. In
the second ‘Chant d’amour’ (fourth movement) there was
some beautiful rapt playing in the middle sections, though
the opening might perhaps have danced just a little more.
The sixth movement, the ‘Jardin du sommeil d’amour’, is
one of the most purely beautiful slow movements in the
whole of modern orchestral music and it was lovingly played,
with astonishing sustained tenderness and delicacy, in
a quite memorable performance. When, in the eighth movement,
‘Développement de l’amour’, the ondes martinot is given
a more prominent role in the musical argument, the subtlety
and finesse of Jacques Tchamkerten’s
playing was heard to its full effect. Elsewhere, Roger
Murano was excellent in his contributions at the piano,
both in terms of what he gave to the larger ensemble and
to the quality of his work in his cadenzas. He was fiercely
percussive where necessary, lyrical in other passages.
The hushed calm of the penultimate movement (‘Turangalîla
3’) beautifully prepared the ground for the ecstatic serenity
- for all its hard driven rhythms - of the final movement,
a celebratory affirmation in which Fischer drew a shatteringly
powerful climax from the orchestra.
The
programme must have presented a real challenge to the
members of BBC NOW. To a very great extant they rose triumphantly
to the challenge. There may have been one or two moments
of suspect intonation, just one or two moments of ragged
ensemble (particularly in the Schmitt), but there was
a great deal more to admire and enjoy, especially in the
work of the strings. The orchestra – and Thierry Fischer
– gave a seriously exciting performance of Messiaen’s
seriously exciting score.
It
remains to be seen whether Thierry Fischer will be able
to take Cardiff’s not especially adventurous audience
with him if he continues with such enterprising programming.
I very much hope that he will, and that the audience will
trust him and follow him – this was a debut full of promise,
a debut to savour both for itself and in anticipation
of what it might lead to.
Glyn Pursglove