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AND HEARD INTERNATIONAL FESTIVAL REVIEW
Festival d’Aix en Provence (3) : Haydn
Toru Yasunaga (violin), Ludwig Quandt (’cello), Albrecht Meyer
(oboe), Daniele Damiano (bassoon). Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra,
Sir Simon Rattle (conductor). Grand Théâtre de Provence, Aix en
Provence. 6.7.2008 (MB)
Haydn –
Symphony no.88, in G major, 'Letter V'
Haydn – Sinfonia concertante in B-flat major, for oboe, bassoon,
violin, and violoncello
Haydn –
Symphony no.92 in G major, ‘Oxford’
Sir Donald Tovey called him ‘Haydn the Inaccessible’. Not much has
changed. A concert consisting of three Haydn symphonic works remains
a rarity. Even Haydn’s most popular symphonies, which tend to be
those having arbitrarily acquired nicknames, feature less frequently
on concert programmes or on recordings than many vastly inferior
works. (I shall resist the strong temptation to name any.) As for
the rest of his symphonic œuvre, or indeed for considerably more
than ninety per cent of his prolific output, enthusiasts esteem
whilst the rest of the world ignores. This is some of the most
life-affirming, intellectually and emotionally satisfying music ever
composed. I find the situation incomprehensible, as, it would seem,
do many others; yet we clearly cannot be many enough. Sir Simon
Rattle has long been on the side of the angels. In fact, I seem to
remember him once calling Haydn his favourite composer, although I
am unable to find a source for my apparent recollection. The Berlin
Philharmonic made memorable Haydn recordings under Wilhelm
Furtwängler (probably still the greatest ever made of the first of
this programme’s symphonies) and Herbert von Karajan (including what
is for me unquestionably the greatest of The Creation). I am
not, however, aware of any arising from Claudio Abbado’s tenure. It
is therefore heartening to have Haydn performed and recorded once
again from this source. Whilst the string section was smaller than
it would have been under Furtwängler or Karajan, working its way
down from nine first violins, it did not sound underpowered. One may
miss the richer upholstery of the older BPO, but this music can work
with fewer strings.
I shall deal with the second work first: the Sinfonia
concertante. This is a much misunderstood genre, especially popular
in later eighteenth-century Paris, which alone produced more than
150 between 1768 and 1789; it furthered greater independence and
indeed virtuosity for all orchestral instruments and their
performers. Haydn’s work was written for London in 1792 and
certainly fulfilled these criteria, but I cannot account this
amongst his stronger works; it pales beside Mozart’s towering
contributions. It undoubtedly provided opportunities for all four
Berlin Philharmonic soloists to shine, yet I slightly regretted that
another symphony – given the wealth of choice – had not taken its
place. I tended to think that it would have been better off
programmed alongside works by other composers rather than with other
(superior) Haydn. There were, nevertheless, promising hints – one
could not really do more than hint – of darker undercurrents during
the sunny first movement. If occasionally the orchestra sounded a
little too micro-managed, Rattle’s heart was clearly in the right
place; there are far worse crimes than loving Haydn a little too
much. He wisely left the deluxe soloists to themselves during the
cadenzas. Toru Yasunaga proved an attentive, if occasionally
over-prominent, violinist and Ludwig Quandt an intensely musical and
impressively agile ’cellist, whilst Albrecht Meyer and Daniele
Damiano provided creamy tone and bubbly delight on the oboe and
bassoon. The Andante was charming enough, even if some of the
material finds Haydn on auto-pilot. The sense of recitative between
violin and orchestra was well caught at the opening of the third
movement and thereafter we were treated, alongside stellar solo
contributions, to some splendid orchestral contrasts, not least from
the second violins.
The meat of the programme, however, was to be found in the two G
major symphonies. Rattle has been performing no.88 for many years
now; I had heard him do so twice before. The Adagio
introduction to the first movement imparted a true sense of
occasion, without sounding unduly portentous. That simple joy to be
alive which Haydn so often captures was certainly captured as Rattle
launched into the Allegro. Rhythms were spruce and
articulation was keen, although not in the unduly point-scoring
fashion that disfigures so many contemporary performances. Although
the tempo was considerably faster than Furtwängler’s, it never
sounded rushed; indeed, it simply sounded juste. The
development section was full of excitement, as Rattle, the players,
and we traced its twists and turns. Crucial to this was the very
real sense that every cell, every phrase had meaning. It is worth
noting here that he woodwind, not least Mayer and Emmanuel Pahud,
was almost unutterably beautiful in tone throughout. The slow
movement was flowingly sung. Here again, Mayer shone, as did the
superb ’cello section. The violins’ pizzicato was quite something
too. I can imagine some listeners finding the expressive dynamic
contrasts – including some breathtaking pianissimi from the
strings – overdone, but I thought them delightful. The movement’s
sterner movements were bracing but never ugly in the regrettable
‘authenticke’ fashion. This movement brought the first – but sadly
not the last – bizarre intervention of a key-jangler in the row
behind me. Was he expressing his disapproval, after the fashion of
early Viennese opposition towards Schoenberg and his music? It is
difficult to understand why. Rattle conducted the minuet, marked
Allegretto, in the modern fashion, one-to-a-bar. I should have
preferred it otherwise, but it did not sound unduly rushed and he
maintained some sense of grace. Its trio, however, provided
unalloyed delight. It was deliciously rustic, with the various
soloists and the conductor all contributing towards the impression
of a (very superior) village band. The trio was considerably more
relaxed – both in terms of the general tempo, and in its touches of
rubato – than the minuet, and benefited greatly from this. I
had a few doubts concerning the finale. It was perhaps a little too
consciously moulded and can certainly sound far more ‘natural’ –
however much art may have to go into the impression – than it did
here. Still, there always seemed to be reasons for what Rattle was
doing; the pointing was never merely arbitrary. The counterpoint was
admirably clear, far more so than the sense of harmonic progression,
which I have heard sound far more inevitable than it did here. The
final bars presented a fun and never tasteless dash to the finishing
line.
The ‘Oxford’ symphony again opened with a mysterious and ravishingly
beautiful introduction. What extraordinary music Haydn furnished for
his symphonic introductions, preparing the way for the
‘Representation of Chaos’ in his Creation! Then the dam
burst, as we hurtled excitingly into the Allegro spirituoso.
As throughout these performances, seating the violins to left and
right really paid off. And once again, the woodwind sounded simply
delectable. Imaginative but never narcissistic inflections made one
realise how deeply Rattle had thought about this music and how it
might be performed. As with the first movement of no.88, this
movement seemed over in the twinkling of an eye, leaving one wanting
more. The Adagio cantabile was arguably a little on the fast
side for an adagio, but the beautifully warm string opening,
the inner parts teeming throughout with meaning, soon made one
forget such a cavil. Joined by an equally warm horn and by Mayer’s
beguiling oboe, Haydn’s fields sounded truly Elysian. There was
vigour in the central section, although once again this never
translated into anything coarse or ugly. We heard thereafter a hint
of tragedy from the strings, before returning to the original
material. Shortly before the conclusion, we were treated to a duet
of straightforward perfection between Pahud and Mayer. On this
occasion, I am afraid that the minuet was simply taken too fast. It
sounded breathless and, whilst it may have boasted a polished
vigour, the requisite aristocratic grace was nowhere to be heard.
The trio fared better. Its astounding syncopations really told,
although it could profitably have been taken at a more measured
tempo, to heighten their effect. Rattle’s prolonged pause before the
end would doubtless have irritated those inclined to be irritated,
but I thought that it heightened expectation in a very winning
fashion. The finale, like that to no.88, was once again exciting and
full of humour. However, I felt that on this occasion, it was
perhaps unduly hard-driven. The tremendous rhythmic drive was quite
something in itself, but I am not sure that Haydn should sound
turbo-charged. The counterpoint once again registered keenly, yet
the movement as a whole wanted grace. I should not want to make too
much of this slight disappointment, for on the whole, Rattle and his
orchestra served Haydn proud.
Mark Berry
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