SEEN AND HEARD INTERNATIONAL

Elgar, Bruch and Holst: Nicola Benedetti (violin), Ladies of the London Symphony Chorus (chorus director: Joseph Cullen), Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, Andrew Litton, Royal Albert Hall, London, 25.11.2010 (BBr)

Elgar: Overture: Cockaigne (In London Town), op.40 (1900)

Bruch: Violin Concerto No.1 in G minor, op.26 (1866)

Holst: Suite: The Planets, op.32 (1914/1916)

Elgar dedicated his Cockaigne Overture to “my many friends, the members of British orchestras”, and described it as “cheerful and Londony, stout and steaky…honest, healthy, humorous and strong, but not vulgar”. He served an apprenticeship as an orchestral player, so he knew their lot in life, and, as a composer, he was well treated by orchestral musicians The dedication is a thank you to those who stood by him, and believed in him, as he was making his way to fame, but never fortune. As to his description of the work, he was spot on! The Sally Army, the lovers in the park, the broad vistas: it’s marvellous, picturesque, not to say picaresque. And Litton was in his element when displaying the roguish side of the music – nothing really naughty, but Elgar’s inspiration is, surely, a forerunner of Malcolm Arnold’s Beckus the Dandipratt. He did this to great effect, but still had time to let the lovers have their moment and the Sally Army their somewhat raucous march through the streets. It was all topped off with the addition of the Albert Hall organ, and a fine display it was!

Nicola Benedetti made a strong impression in Bruch’s most famous work. She gave a spirited and passionate reading, giving herself time, in the slow movement, to really enjoy the big tune and there were more than sufficient fireworks to make the finale a truly sparkling affair.

It’s too easy to pooh–pooh The Planets Suite on the grounds that it’s far too popular for real consideration, but, despite its immense popularity, it’s a fascinating work and one which repays repeated hearings. True, Holst was subsequently to write better crafted, and more staisfying, works – I am thinking of the Fugal Overture and his masterpiece Egdon Heath – but never again was he to tap into the public consciousness as he did in his symphonic star–gazing. But astronomy wasn’t Holst’s interest, for Clifford Bax, brother of the composer, had introduced Holst to astrology and that is why we have the specific subtitles to each movement. Litton directed a fine performance of the music. Mars was frightening in its intensity and it was beautifully balanced by the most serene utterance of Venus. Mercury was fleet of foot and Jupiter bucolic and full of countryside merry making. Saturn, Holst’s, and my, favourite planet was redolent of encroaching old age – I could feel the arthritis in my fingers getting worse as the music progressed. Uranus was a fantastic evocation of a malevolent Sorceror’s Apprentice, complete with organ glissando at the end, an astonishing sound. Neptune lacked the mystery and cold iciness it needs to make its fullest effect and it wasn’t helped by the singing of the Ladies of the London Symphony Chorus who were far too loud from the start and failed to fade away at the end, they simply stopped, thus ruining the effect Holst required of the sound going on into infinity. But this was still a fine performance and the orchestra played brilliantly, but, my one complaint is that the percussion section was far too reticent, I would have loved more overt performances from all the members of the department.

Bob Briggs