Belohlávek’s
sure way with the music of his homeland was
already confirmed, if confirmation is needed,
in his concert on January
20th. His
quasi-miraculous rapport with the Philharmonia
was once more on display here in a concert
that included Dvorák’s great Violin
Concerto.
I use
the word ‘great’ on purpose. Interestingly,
Vanda Prochazka in her programme notes refers
to this as ‘one of his most popular works’,
although its number of concert performances
is effectively dwarfed by those of its sister
piece, the Cello Concerto in B minor. While
reviewing Akiko Suwanai’s recording of the
Violin Concerto on Philips
the true stature of this work became apparent
to me (Colin Anderson in his ‘Recommended
Recordings’ in the concert programme omitted
Suwanai entirely; as he did Belohlávek’s
own recording on Supraphon with Václav
Hudecek, SU3187-2). The work does, though,
need the finest of interpreters to bring it
off, as structurally it is quirky, with severely
curtailed recapitulative elements in the first
movement and with all three movements of broadly
the same length.
Midori’s
performance of the Dvorák Sonatina
for violin and piano at a Barbican recital
in August
2002 had left
a good impression. As a piece the Concerto
probes significantly deeper, though. Initial
impressions boded well. There seemed to be
a new dynamic to Midori’s playing, with a
very un-Japanese foregrounding of emotion.
After Belohlávek’s warm orchestral
opening, Midori entered within the style of
a gypsy improvisation. Lines were lyrical
and she is obviously and commendably not afraid
of the piano/pianissimo end of the
dynamic scale. Only one passage was on the
literal side – the slow movement generally
erased memories of this. Here Midori attempted
to give us a natural lyrical outpouring, although
a steely tinge to her tone at times came across
as inappropriate and trills in particular
could sound manufactured, as opposed to expressive.
Tonal contrasts were sensitive, though, a
bleached, white tone setting off the more
vibrato-ed lines, yet an unappealing slithering
down to her very last note spoiled things
rather.
The
orchestra was consistently excellent, however,
Belohlávek highlighting the magnificence
of Dvorák’s scoring (a passage of solo
violin against unison horns in the first movement
stood out). The Finale is Dvorák at
his foot-tapping best – and how the winds
danced to those rhythms! A pity Midori injected
literalism to a suave contrasting idea, robbing
it of its echt-Bohemian flavour. Midori
has recorded this work on Sony SK44923, with
Zubin Mehta conducting.
By beginning
the concert with Smetana’s Overture to The
Bartered Bride, Belohlávek ensured
things got off to an effervescent start. The
piece opened with a blaze of orchestral colour.
The Philharmonia’s second violins were breathtaking
in their articulation of the fugato subject,
but it was the veritable explosion of furiant
rhythms that made this irresistible. This
was a seven-minute beacon of bright light
and optimism, coloured only by the oboe’s
rustic Bohemian pipings in a brief moment
of reflection. Stunning.
Belohlávek’s
Dvorák Seventh did not disappoint.
The same balance of flow, lyricism and structure
that he brought to the Ninth was there. Drama
in the first movement came from Dvorák’s
scoring (tremolandi, perfectly placed accents)
rather than any indulgent tempi (it moved
along, refusing to take the ‘maestoso’ as
an excuse to linger). If there was some wonderful
wind playing in the Poco adagio (notably from
the clarinets), this remained, timbrally,
anglicised Dvorák. However it was impossible
not to be carried away by this blossoming
of the composer’s imagination – just occasionally,
though, one hankered after more depth from
the lower strings. If the contrast of the
brisk Scherzo was boldly made, it was certainly
effective. But what was most memorable about
this third movement was the disquiet Belohlávek
evoked from the lower strings in the Trio,
dark clouds that reappeared at the opening
of the finale. Flutes tripping their way through
Czech fields did their best to dispel these,
but it was the dramatic unfolding that was
the point here. A remarkable feat of interpretation
coupled with its realisation in near-ideal
performance, this Dvorák Seventh has
to be one of the season’s highlights so far.
Colin
Clarke