Steven
Osborne has made quite a name for himself
via his Hyperion recordings of diverse repertoire,
including Alkan, Liszt and Messiaen. His solo
recital at the Wigmore
Hall last
year revealed his strengths in the latter
two composers. He is less well known for his
Mozart, so it was interesting to hear him
in the delightful, evergreen ‘little’ A major
concerto (No. 12, K414).
And
a little disappointing, too. Dohnányi
set the scene well, with a delicate orchestral
exposition (with, admittedly, the impression
that the Philharmonia was treading on egg-shells).
Very soon after Osborne’s entrance, though,
the thought popped up that Osborne is still
too young for Mozart. His was a very arid
Mozartean landscape and scales had more than
a whiff of the ordinary about them (what magic
Uchida can make of the most mundane major
scale, for example!). True, there is a nice
legato basis for Osborne’s playing and nothing
he ever does is unmusical or unstylish, but
we never really got to meet Mozart here. An
elegant orchestral introduction to the second
movement seemed to be setting up a pattern,
as Osborne was significantly more pedestrian
than his colleagues (almost clunky in the
chordal passages, in fact). The second cadenza
found him in better form (for the first time
one wondered what he would be like in other
Mozart – specifically the late sonatas), and
following this trend the finale showed a little
more imagination (even including hints of
cheekiness!). Taken as a whole, though, this
was far from an impressive achievement.
A Prokofiev
‘Classical’ Symphony had begun the evening
well, however. Dohnányi, never a conductor
one associates with wit (sophisticated or
otherwise) brought a fair amount of humour
to, especially, the scampering finale. Accuracy
here married spirit, a trait that characterised
the majority of this performance (with the
exception of some rather anonymous wind contributions
in the first movement). Antiphonal violin
placement worked well. Tight ensemble was
a consistent delight – this was no mere token
opener.
Most
people though, must surely have come for Mahler’s
First Symphony, that great big splodge of
youthful exuberance and excess. Here Dohnányi
came into his own in an interpretation that
gained in strength as the work progressed.
Despite the superbly controlled high string
harmonics of the opening and some preternaturally
accurate horn-playing, the emergence of the
‘Ging heut’ Morgen über’s Feld’ motif
on ‘cellos was over-literal, an indication
of a slightly studied approach to some detail.
Yet there was evidence of gradual and organic
growth, with Mahler’s sometimes outrageous
orchestration given full weight (some amazing
rasping muted trumpets).
All
the more surprising then that the hand-stopping
on horns in the second movement (a truly grotesque
effect) was played down; less of a surprise
that the Trio did not relax and contrast to
the required degree. A slightly hesitant opening
to the movement as a whole detracted from
the Lederhosen-laden festivities, too.
It was
individual contributions to the third movement
that carried it through, not least from the
solo double bass at the start (the best I
have ever heard). Yet the middle section,
while nicely characterised, hardly held the
authentic lilt of a Bernstein (DG). It was
left to the finale to crown the performance.
Here, right from the initial orchestral scream,
Dohnányi was in full control. Not only
were the brass truly resplendent (complete
with standing horns for the final peroration),
Dohnányi galvanised his players into
creating moments of magic as the contrastive
music approached stasis. It was a memorable
account, acting as a reaffirmation of the
Philharmonia’s standing.
Colin
Clarke
Return to:
Music on the Web