SEEN AND HEARD INTERNATIONAL

Schumann and Brahms: Sofya Gulyak (piano), Royal College of Music Symphony Orchestra, Vladimir Ashkenazy, Amaryllis Fleming Concert Hall, Royal College of Music, Prince Consort Road, London, 31.10.2010 (BBr)

 

Schumann: Piano Concerto in A minor, op.54 (1852/1845)

Brahms: Symphony No.1 in C minor, op.68 (1876)

 

Are conductors really necessary? And, if so, does an orchestra do what the conductor wants it to do? As to the first question, I know a number of conductors who would say that, most emphatically, they are necessary, although any number of orchestral musicians, and a few composers as well, would say that they impede the musical process of performance. As to the second question the answer should be yes, but… Were I to stand in front of the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra to conduct Beethoven’s 7^th Symphony – I am, after all, the pupil of one of Sir Adrian Boult’s pupils so I have a solid musical heritage – the fact that I would have 60, or so, top class musicians in front of me would guarantee a good performance despite my best efforts – I have heard this orchestra with a less than good conductor on one occasion and their performance of a well known Symphony progressed without help from the man with the stick. There is the story of a performance of Ein Heldenleben during which there was a power cut and the hall was plunged into darkness. But the orchestra, the Vienna Philharmonic, if I remember correctly, simply continued playing, without being able to see the conductor. In rehearsal the maestro had obviously taught the orchestra his interpretation, but even without being able to see him, the members of the band could play, and interpret this complex work without hindrance, some would say, from the conductor.

I mention all this because it crossed my mind whilst listening to tonight’s show. Whilst I do not doubt Vladimir Ashkenazy’s sincerity as a musician – whether he’s playing the piano, or conducting an orchestra – I do wonder at the results he gets, and, more particularly, the results he achieved tonight. As I said, were I to stand in front of a professional orchestra, the collective pride of the musicians would ensure that a good performance was achieved without my meagre talents with the twig. However, when working with students or non-professionals, it is, as our colonial cousins say, a totally different ball game. In May, when John Wilson conducted this orchestra in a stunning account of Rachmaninov’s 2^nd Symphony he told me, afterwards, that he’d had to work hard because few, if any, of the members of the band had ever played the piece. But his hard work paid off and together conductor and orchestra delivered as fine a performance of the work as I have ever heard. Like Boult, Barbirolli and a host of others of that generation, Wilson is obviously an orchestral trainer and he can mould his orchestra so that his vision of what is needed to make music is achieved. I don’t believe that Ashkenazy is a trainer, and that showed in tonight’s performances.

Ashkenazy has an odd technique. Almost all his gestures are big, which would convey to his players a desire for a big sound and that is what he got. At his Prom in the summer he gave Scriabin’s 3^rd Symphony, not a major work to be sure, but I am convinced that the Sydney Symphony loved playing it and it wouldn’t have needed much direction. But students aren’t of that interpretive standard – though they are up there in terms of technique – and need more help than their professional colleagues. That is why I don’t believe that Ashkenazy is an orchestral trainer. He seemed unable to get under the skin of the music he was conducting, and commune with the composers and his orchestra. Schumann and Brahms might seem an easy option but they’re not – just as Mozart is one of the most difficult composers to interpret correctly and successfully.

What I heard tonight was an orchestra doing what its conductor wanted it to do, but the performances lacked finesse, subtlety and, most important of all, pianissimo. In the concerto we were treated to a hard driven, unsympathetic account of a delightful work, with loud volumes to the fore and a disregard for the give and take necessary in this work. Soloist Sofya Gulyak, who won the Leeds Competition last year, seemed out of touch with the music and made a very aggressive sound at the keyboard, seldom allowing any kind of poetry to enter into her interpretation. She was matched by an equally hard-edged account of the orchestral part, the violins making a very steely and unpleasant sound. The balance was poor and much detail was lost.

The Brahms symphony was little better. At the start, the violin line was overpowered by the accompaniment, but it was better when it reappeared a few minutes later, and, likewise, at the end of the slow movement, the solo violin line was covered by its accompaniment. Throughout, the volume was uniform, with little time, or chance, for relaxation of dynamic or variety of tone colour. If I didn’t believe in Ashkenazy’s sincerity I would have said that this performance was wilful in both intent and execution. The orchestra responded to Ashkenazy’s requirements but they weren’t Brahms’s desires.

I must mention that the sound was deafening, and I left the hall with my ears ringing, as if I’d sat through a Kaiser Chiefs concert, and I was reminded of the line in Tobias Smollett’s The Expedition of Humphry Clinker (1771) – and here I quote from memory – “and so to Vauxhall [Pleasure Gardens] where we heard the celebrated Miss P, whose voice was so shrill that our ears ached…from excess of pleasure.” Quite.

 

Bob Briggs