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SEEN AND HEARD UK CONCERT REVIEW
Stravinsky - Symphony in Three Movements
Strauss - Four Last Songs
Beethoven - Symphony no.6 in F major, op.68
Only a tone-deaf fool could doubt Stravinsky's compositional genius, even if
some of us who flatter ourselves that we are neither entirely foolish nor
entirely tone-deaf may harbour doubts about some of those works where the
composer fell most deeply into the quicksands of neo-classicism (
Orpheus and Apollo, for example). Yet his æsthetic influence,
or at least the influence of the æsthetic propounded under Stravinsky's name
- the Poetics of Music in the Form of Six Lessons is far from
exclusively his work - has been more questionable, not least the typically
polemical nonsense about music being unable to express anything other than
itself. Even his compositional legacy remains ambivalent: if Stravinsky, by
virtue of his very genius, could convincingly play with hollowed-out
tonality beyond its sell-by date, that does not absolve his camp followers
from the twin charges of tedium and populism: an odd pair, but
unquestionably combined in a great deal of minimalism.
So how would Sir Colin Davis fare in a work such as Symphony in Three
Movements, a work tipping its hat towards the symphonic form in which
Davis so often excels, yet which is better understood as anti-symphonic?
Very well, as it happens, reminding us that the conductor once led a good
number of performances of Stravinsky's music. For one so unfailingly alert
to the humanity of Mozart's music - an increasingly rare gift in an age of
unforgivably brutalised Mozart - Sir Colin rendered the first movement of
Stravinsky's work as mechanistic to a tee, those 'inspiring' wartime
news-reels coming to life before our mind's eyes. The LSO's precision came
as no surprise, given its accustomed excellence, but should still be noted,
not least the barbarism - in a positive sense! - of its brass section.
Occasionally, I felt that the tempo might have benefited from being a little
swifter, but clarity and general relentlessness by and large compensated.
The fantastical development of the harp-led second movement proved evocative
of the ballet: Stravinsky's Scènes de ballet and Jeu de cartes
came to mind. The LSO's woodwind section seized its opportunity to shine,
with delightful interventions from the strings. The darker, more sinister
moments were equally well painted. (And this, whatever Stravinsky's
anti-Romantic declarations, is surely 'programme' music as well as
its supposedly 'absolute' antithesis.) The final movement was mercilessly
triumphant in its dehumanised and dehumanising glory, if anything more so at
a slightly more measured tempo than we generally hear. Heft and attack were
impeccable, as were the more soloistic moments: there was some superb
bassoon playing in particular. In Davis's hands, rhythms both harked back to
the Rite - of which, once again, he used to be a noted exponent -
whilst the fugue also looked forward to works such as Agon and even
Movements, for all their difference in musical language. Is it yet
too late to hope that we might hope for some late Stravinsky from Sir Colin?
(Or indeed from anyone else, for it is music that is scandalously neglected,
whether by conductors or concert promoters…)
For all the continued excellence of the LSO's performance, with some
gorgeous orchestral detail revealed, the Four Last Songs that
followed were best forgotten, the worst account I have heard. Sally Matthews
was a late substitution for Elza van den Heever. Matthews's small voice is
simply not up to the task, nor is her strange - merging into indistinct -
German diction: when one could hear the words, they sounded closer to Dutch.
To begin with, I wondered whether some fault lay as much with the conductor:
Strauss has not formed a major part of Sir Colin's repertoire, though he has
brought magic to Ariadne auf Naxos, both at Covent Garden and on
DVD from Dresden. The beat was laboured in Frühling, and
September was very slow indeed, distended even, its bar lines again far
too evident. Yet, in the latter, it sounded very much as though the slowness
was that of the soloist (and I love slow tempi when they work: think of
Janowitz and Karajan…). Matthews, however, was merely making a meal out of
it, audibly taking breaths within phrases. And yet, there was stillness at
the end, in preparation for that horn solo, heart-rendingly
delivered by David Pyatt: a true sense of an old man's farewell. Beim
Schlafengehen again brought orchestral revelations, not least from
inner parts, violas in particular. Yet it sounded less like 'going to sleep'
than long since turned comatose. Upon Matthews's entry, the music slowed,
the introduction having been relatively swift; throughout, the vocal line
was effortful. Gordan Nikolitch's violin solo was, as expected, exquisite,
with a beautiful touch of portamento. Strings were rich for that
final orchestral hurrah, the introduction to Im Abendrot. The rest,
you will be able to write for yourselves by now…
The day was saved by an excellent account of Beethoven's Pastoral
Symphony. After the laboured Strauss, a perky first movement - never, be it
noted, driven - came as quite the antidote. The LSO sounded wonderfully
cultivated: everything well articulated, without exaggeration. Perhaps there
was something slightly neutral to the first movement performance, but the
occasional doubt disappeared in a beautifully shaped, which is to say
'natural'-sounding, 'Scene by the Brook', which flowed more quickly
than one might have expected. Articulation was again exemplary, especially
woodwind phrasing. Davis imparted a splendid sense of building momentum,
from which one could happily enjoy the rest of the aural view, grainy
bassoons and magically pure flute and clarinet solos included. In a less
than excellent performance of this movement, I have been known to tire: no
such chance here. The third movement emerged as a true scherzo, alternately
light-footed and vigorous, the woodwind again superlative. Its trio was
rustic without the slightest hint of crudity; this was very much a dance,
joyful rather than driven. The transition to the fourth movement was
seamless, full of uneasiness, foreboding, whilst the storm clearly presaged
Berlioz. The LSO was as magnificent as in Sir Colin's performances of
Les Troyens, rhythmic attack and colour equally crucial. The finale
brought that serene nobility which might be considered Beethoven's - and
Davis's - stock-in-trade, but which one should never take for granted.
Earlier virtues of articulation and colour (woodwind and horns) were very
much present, as was true, unforced exultancy.
Mark Berry