The Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra’s Europa Konzert takes
place on 1 May each year, and commemorates the founding of the
orchestra in 1882. The concert is broadcast on television, and
is held in prestigious locations in different centres of culture.
The Sheldonian Theatre in Oxford was the setting for 2010, and
here, from the sumptuous Teatro Real in Madrid, comes the 2011
edition.
The film allows us little time to become accustomed to the surroundings.
The leader is already in place and Simon Rattle arrives promptly
to begin the concert with Chabrier’s delicious orchestral
rhapsody, España. This is a fairly straightforward
performance, with a bit of rubato on the attractive rising string
melody the only real concession to “interpretation”.
Rattle tells us in the eight-minute bonus interview - of which
more later - that the orchestra “absolutely loves playing”
this work. I suppose we have to believe him, but they look a
bit poker-faced here, and, to my ears at least, the performance
lacks the sparkle and fun that is to be found in many another
one, and that in spite of what strikes me as a rather cheap
surge in the very last seconds. We would hardly associate this
work with the Berlin Phil, and it is followed by another, equally
unlikely, contender. The soloist in Rodrigo’s celebrated
concerto is the flamenco guitarist, Cañizares. He is
certainly a cool customer, eschewing the habitual footstool
and playing, instead, with his legs crossed. He plays from memory,
and, for most of the concerto, with his eyes closed - though
it is an intriguing exercise to monitor those moments when he
opens them to look at the conductor. He is a remarkably undemonstrative
figure on stage, and his elegant reading of the concerto reflects
this. His playing certainly does not lack brilliance when needed,
but clean and precise are words that come repeatedly to mind
when listening to this performance. There are a few extra slides
and some left hand vibrato and note bending, and though some
of these effects are surprising they are immensely subtle and
totally convincing, and are the only real signs of the guitarist’s
flamenco background. The famous slow movement is particularly
successful, with a beautifully played cor anglais solo, though
the actual sound of the instrument is hardly authentic. This
is a most satisfying reading of a much-loved work, a model of
quiet virtuosity.
Rattle conducts the Rachmaninov from memory. This is hardly
a standard Berlin work either, but the orchestra comes into
its own here. The authority and unanimity of the playing is
quite stunning. Rattle’s reading is very successful overall,
with a natural feel for the music’s pulse. The first movement
is very expressive but in no way indulgent. The big, singing,
second subject, for example, is subjected to only marginal slowing,
and this feels very natural in context; Rattle gives it more
space when it returns later. Rachmaninov marks the whole of
the exposition to be repeated, and though this makes for a long
first movement I find it a pity that Rattle chooses not to respect
it. He does, however, whip up a fearsome storm in the development
section. The scherzo is characterised by superb unanimity of
attack and glorious singing tone in the lyrical passages. The
famous clarinet melody at the opening of the slow movement is
most beautifully, if rather coolly, played. I don’t find
Rattle any more convincing than the majority of conductors with
the repeated scales that make up much of the development section
of the finale, but the passage leading to the big, climactic
return of the second theme - when we feel the end is approaching
- is sensationally well managed, with a remarkably subtle control
of rhythm and tempo. Once again we are treated to a kick on
the accelerator in the final seconds, and I feel the same about
it as I did in the Chabrier, though other listeners surely won’t.
Overall, this is a most successful live performance that will
also easily stand repeated hearing.
The concert is well enough filmed, though I find the camerawork
fussy, with too many rapid changes. I think I would have edited
out the audience member leafing through the programme during
the slow movement of the Rachmaninov, though I would surely
have left in the surprising sight of what seems to be my GP
moonlighting in the double basses. The booklet contains a nice
essay in three languages by Caroline Waight, and the DVD, in
addition to four trailers for other concerts, also features
the singularly bland and uninformative interview with the conductor
mentioned above.
William Hedley
Masterwork Index: Concierto
de Aranjuez