rec. live, February 2013, Barbican, London
            
 It says a lot about the LSO’s commitment 
              to new music that they not only commissioned Mark-Anthony Turnage 
              to write 
Speranza but that they also saw fit to record 
              and commercially release its first performance. It’s a substantial 
              four-movement work — a symphony, I wonder — which the 
              booklet notes describe as "Turnage's most ambitious 
              and symphonic composition for orchestra to date” and demonstrating 
              “a cyclical rigour". It’s inspired by the verse 
              of Paul Celan, who himself used German poetry as a way of understanding 
              the Holocaust. Each movement has the title of “hope” 
              in a different language — Arabic, German, Gaelic and Hebrew 
              — an act which itself speaks of addressing conflicts in differently 
              troubled corners of the world.
               
              The opening shudder of the first movement gives way to a meandering 
              theme on the strings that I found quite Mahlerian. Its introspective 
              nature seems constantly to turn in on itself. This later gives way 
              to a more turbulent central section and a mysterious ending. The 
              second movement features a prominent part for Armenian duduk - showcasing 
              the most obvious of the work's many folk tunes - which spins 
              a wry, chromatic but attractive melody. This is meanwhile punctuated 
              by strained chords and sinister sounding thuds on drums. It’s 
              the closest thing the work has to a slow movement but is predominantly 
              anguished and tortured at times. The third movement brings the Scherzo, 
              a jumpy, rhythmically vigorous movement that has aspects of dance 
              to it, as well as some brash dynamic contrasts. I liked the way 
              fragments of theme seem to bounce - almost literally - around the 
              different sections of the orchestra. The central section sounds 
              fairly angry. There is a slightly crazy jazz feel to the final section 
              but there is an overall sense of jagged energy to the rhythm. The 
              finale then has a dark, mysterious opening with solo strings and 
              percussion providing almost gamelan-like textures. A keening cor 
              anglais then introduces a slow, thoughtful section that sounds as 
              though it is meditating on the nature of something profound — 
              the hope of the title, perhaps. Parts of this movement sound almost 
              cinematic in scope, and I wondered if this was the heart of the 
              work. An element of threat then breaks in around the 7-minute mark 
              but subsides fairly quickly to return to the thoughtful atmosphere 
              of the opening. The ending was rather static and, to me, a little 
              anticlimactic, seeming to stop rather than end; maybe that was the 
              point.
               
              To me, 
Speranza showcases Turnage's feeling for 
              an idea. This does not necessarily translate into something readily 
              comprehensible as his structures and melodies can be challenging 
              at times. However, it also shows his flair for orchestral colour 
              and using widely varying textures to establish and work through 
              his musical argument.
              
 
              From the Wreckage, meanwhile, is as close as Turnage has 
              come to a trumpet concerto. It is played here by the trumpeter for 
              whom he wrote the work. It has a mysterious, edgy opening with frightened 
              sounds emanating from strings and brass. The trumpet seems at first 
              to be picking its way over a bomb site or a wasteland, its notes 
              disjointed and disconnected, with no sense of a melody and little 
              sense of connection of any kind. The music eventually works its 
              way up to a more lively, if still fairly anguished section wherein 
              trumpet engages more actively with the orchestra and formulates 
              something approaching a dialogue for the first time in the work. 
              A more jazzy atmosphere takes over around the halfway mark. This 
              gives way to a section that is more edgy but also more confident 
              than the previous material. The ending uses bells, gentle percussion 
              and fuller, longer notes from the trumpet to suggest some sort of 
              resolution, or should that be accommodation. The trumpet’s 
              role is fairly subsidiary when compared to that of a regular concerto 
              – in fact, it barely rises that far above the general orchestral 
              texture – but Hardenberger plays with clarity and his integration 
              within the orchestra’s texture comes across very well.
               
              With nothing to compare it to, it’s difficult to comment on 
              how well the orchestra play the music. Suffice to say that the playing 
              is committed and thorough. It is also captured in very successful 
              sound. Daniel Harding does his best with the rather tricky structural 
              problems that each work presents and, while this disc is likely 
              to have a rather specialist appeal, the manageable price should 
              help encourage people to explore it.
               
              
Simon Thompson
              
              Previous review: 
Lucy 
              Jeffery