Schoenberg, Pintscher, Bartók:  Michelle DeYoung (mezzo); Peter Fried (bass); BBC Singers; London Symphony Orchestra/Pierre Boulez. Barbican Hall, 11.5.2008 (CC)


Schoenberg’s Die glückliche Hand, Op. 18 (1910-13) is rarely heard, yet it offers so much to the listener prepared to make the effort. The Romantic idea of artist as hero is encountered here in the scenario – that of a single man, imagined at the beginning with a gyphon on his back, alone against the World. Given Schoenberg’s own struggles, it is hardly a great leap to detect an autobiographical element here. More, the action of Scene 2, wherein the protagonist is confronted with images of a beautiful woman who leaves him, returns to him, before leaving him again is redolent of events in the composer’s own life, with his wife Mathilde leaving him for the painter Richard Gerstl.

Boulez placed the chorus (London Voices) in amongst the orchestra, in front of the woodwind, and had them seated throughout. In this way they became an integral part of the texture. It was Boulez’ tremendous textural acuity that impressed more than anything else. The LSO seemed to give everything for him, and attention to detail was everywhere apparent.

The work is intended to be staged with specific colours notated in the score. Such Scriabinesque synaesthesia is indeed taking the idea of a complete art-work to its limits. Of course, there was no suggestion of a staging here, but the sheer complexity of Schoenberg’s vision was expertly laid bare under the guidance of Pierre Boulez.

The vocal solo part is present in only a small proportion of the work (35 out of 255 bars), yet it is vital. Peter Fried, who was to feature so significantly in the Bartók, was here restrained, as much a part of a fabric as was the (excellent) contributions of the chorus. Boulez seemed to seek to identify the Romantic impulse behind some of the aching, Expessionist string gestures, so much so that there was a marked tendency towards Bergain lushness. A memorable account of an important work.

Writing about the music of Matthias Pintscher’s Cello Concerto, Reflections on Narcissus in November 2006  I found that ‘there was a distinct feeling that the work outstayed its welcome somewhat’. Here, in his Osiris (2007, receiving its UK premiere), Pintscher once more finds his inspiration in myth. Here he seems particularly drawn to the love exhibited by Isis and Osiris, especially in the act of her reconstruction of the dismembered Osiris after the murderous acts of Seth. The idea of dissecting a line forms the premise for the musical structure. The piece begins with along, sotto voce string melody decorated initially by delicate filigree, somehow, and rather strangely, invoking the spirit of Peter Grimes. The orchestration was from the hand of a young master (Pintscher was born in 1971), although his penchant for muted trumpets wore thin after a while. The dissolution of the final stages was expertly managed, both in terms of the scoring and in terms of realisation. Yet again there was a feeling of the piece being somewhat over-long for its materials, and here the clever parallel between myth and musical structure failed to bear significant musical fruit.

The clear highlight of the evening, though, was Boulez’ interpretation of Bartók’s Duke Bluebeard’s Castle. Boulez had picked his soloists carefully, for both DeYoung and Fried were remarkably strong of voice. Fried was actually positively chilling, his voice imposingly resonant and authoritative. DeYoung portrayed her character, Judith, as initially resplendent, looking forward to her future with her new husband. Fried was almost her dramatic match, although John Tomlinson’s various performances of this have seemed to be closer attuned to the heart of Bartók’s shadowy character. As the performance went on, though, it became more and more obvious that the real star was Pierre Boulez, whose pacing was simply beautiful. He realized the underlying tension miraculously, the music of one door moving inexorably to the next, whether delivering music of breathtaking beauty (Door 3, The Treasury) or of blood-red rawness (Door 7). Throughout, orchestral detail was tellingly delivered, while colours were vividly painted (the resplendent golden orchestra of the fifth door was unforgettable – as was, for that matter, DeYoung’s blood-curdling scream).

Surely a contender for a Concert of the Year. On record, Fried has recorded Bluebeard with Eotvos on Hänssler 93.070; Pierre Boulez’ account, with Jessye Norman, László Polgár and the Chicago Symphony, appears on DG 447 0402. For Glückliche Hand on record, try the Craft performance on Naxos 8.557526, with soloist Mark Beesley.

Colin Clarke


Back to Top                                                    Cumulative Index Page