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SEEN
AND HEARD INTERNATIONAL CONCERT REVIEW
Schumann, Manoury:
Bavarian State Orchestra, Kent Nagano (conductor) National
Theatre, Munich 27.11.2007 (JFL)
Jens F Laurson
Schumann: Concert Piece for Four Horns, op.86
Manoury: Abgrund – pour grand orchestre
Schumann: Symphony No.4, op.120 (original version)
Three pillars of sound – powerful but all less so than one expects
and receding where the ears expect the thundering climax: that is
the opening statement of Philippe Manoury’s “Abgrund – pour grand
orchestre” which was given its world premiere in the Third
Akademiekonzert of the Bavarian State Orchestra under Kent
Nagano on Monday, November 26th.
This attitude of ‘not-quite-full-out’ and taken-back peaks lends a
restful, relaxed feeling to the work – commissioned by Kent
Nagano’s Bavarian State Opera and the Orchestre symphonique de
Montréal : which stands rather in contrast to the bustle of notes
and the excessive percussion batteries employed by the Tulle
(France) born Manoury who teaches composition at the University of
California, San Diego.
Perhaps because of the ‘pillars’ in “Abgrund”, I thought more of
Mahler’s Tenth Symphony during the performance than I did of any
recent modern work –
so many of which also
feature
absurd arrays of percussion. But if on the surface, Manoury is
similarily
obsessed with rhythm-and noise-makers like high maracas, cow
bells, wood blocks, claves, low rattles, gongs, xylophones, a
“Mahler-box”
[1],
and 18 other percussion instruments (not counting the piano), he
mercifully knows how to use them in ways far more discriminating
than his contemporaries beholden to one bongo-frenzy after
another. He deserves lauding for that alone.
“Abgrund” is a work that will neither disturb nor annoy; it is a
pleasant and perhaps harmless string of dissonant semi-climaxes,
little jolts, and resting phases. It has an invigorating effect,
is easy on concentration, and is altogether a work I’d not mind
hearing on many more occasions. (Admittedly two ladies next
to me felt quite differently: One was loudly wondering – mid piece
– when it would be finally over. The other thought the
subsequent Schumann Symphony not worth the Manoury trial.)
I cannot quite tell why my ears responded so instinctively
positively to “Abgrund”, a fact that quite annoys me. Perhaps
Philippe Manoury hit the right mix between shallow and deep,
melodic and dissonant, placating and strident, stasis and
progress, simplicity and complexity. The steady
run-up—stop—tighten—burst—relax scheme may not be novel at all,
but it paid dividends for me: so well in fact, that the work
might not have needed its full 20+ minutes to make the intended
impact. As it was, the rather quiet and calm, though Hammerblow-interrupted,
long tail of the frenzied mid-section reminded again of
Mahler. This time of the description of Mahler’s symphonies as
bearing a resemblance to the guest who already stands in the door,
parting, but won’t quite leave, always finding another point of
discussion.
Before the ladies had to sit through the
IRCAM-trained Manoury’s work, they were mollified with a first
dose of Robert Schumann – his
Bach-inspired Konzertstück for Four Horns. Under Kent
Nagano, the orchestra turned in a performance that was concise and
of swift freshness. Though the winds struggled to be heard and the
orchestral tone was often close to shrill and rarely very nice,
as an ensemble it was as agile as imaginable. The result was a
strangely modern sound (especially since Schumann very rarely
sounds modern, much less ‘sleek’) but not
unpleasantly so. The four horn players (Johannes Dengler, Franz
Draxinger, Rainer Schmitz, Maximilian Hochwimmer) had individual
moments of glory but without being exciting (or especially
accurate) as a group.
Schumann’s Fourth Symphony is neither his fourth nor a late work –
except that Schumann revised this work from 1841 (technically
his second symphony) in 1852. When this somewhat unusual work
premiered, it was not so much received badly as was simply
ignored: the same concert had featured the overshadowing mega-event of Clara Schumann and Franz Liszt
appearing on stage together.
Hearing the work in its original form – which is largely a matter of
stripping it of Schumann’s own re-orchestration – was very
worthwhile. It was good, too, to see it noted as the ‘original
version’, lest I have attributed its
leanness, lighter, unmannered, and sunnier qualities all to Kent
Nagano’s revealingly brilliant conducting.
The inner luster and the gloom, doom, and heft of the version
generally known is gone – and without harm to the four
movements-in-one - where three unfulfilled movements lead
attacca (without break or pause) into the next and then on into
the finale which ties the loose ends together and provides the
resolution for all that came before. Nagano, whose
Beethoven in the first of these ‘Academy Concerts’ was something
short of joyless butchery, showed some mechanical spots here too, but
in all that is light and legato or soft and slow, he had all the
abilities that one could swear he’d be lacking, given the loveless
result of some loud and fast passages. The lightness of
this version of the Symphony met with Nagano’s accuracy to produce a very fine
result, seemingly appeasing even the critical ladies in the
audience.