A brilliantly conceived BSO programme of two masterpieces orbiting Stephen Hough’s new Piano Concerto (The World of Yesterday). The work’s retrospective title could also apply to Elgar’s gallery of friends and self-portrait enshrined within the Enigma Variations. Brahms’ autumnal Symphony No.3 is similarly imbued with reflections regarding the composer’s deeply-felt friendship with both Robert and Clara Schumann. Coincidentally, Elgar also regarded Brahms 3 as the greatest and most personal of the composer’s four symphonies with influences resonating in his own Symphony No.2.
Unusually for a symphony, all four movements end quietly, each with an ambiguous mood of reflection. Only the twilight close of the last movement brings a sense of repose that still palpably signals this is not the end of Brahms’ symphonic journey. Mark Wigglesworth nurtured a powerful undercurrent of big-boned physical energy and lyrical contrast throughout. Purposeful and flexible tempi allied to a broad dynamic range always carried the music forward. String tone was richly layered with pliant winds and sonorous brass beautifully balanced for solo moments as well as the full works. Special praise too for the strikingly characterful ensemble work from pizzicato lower strings that was so articulate throughout. A consistently bristling and idiomatic Brahmsian performance to savour at every turn.
Initially conceived as a short piece of film music in which Spellbound might have met the Warsaw Concerto, the project eventually foundered. However, via pianist-composer Stephen Hough’s inspiration and tenacity, the seeds of the concept eventually morphed into a fully integrated three-part 20 minute piano concerto of jaw-dropping complexity and finger-crunching virtuosity for both soloist and orchestra. The World of Yesterday begins with a pristine orchestral skyscape abruptly invaded by a big-bang cadenza from the soloist, which then transforms into a waltz section with orchestra of ever-increasing sleaziness and disruptive force. This in turn accelerates into a manic, seemingly unstoppable Tarantella that eventually hits the buffers with another very big bang.
Think back to Liszt’s Totentanz, the manic finale of Prokofiev’s Piano Concerto No.1, the terminal marches in Ravel’s Concerto for the left hand or the increasingly delirious La Valse – you might sense where we could be heading in this compellingly manic and disturbing dance with death. Maybe as a mirror on our current world situation it could be heard as one of the most unsettling new works of recent times, but surely one of the most spectacularly nerve-jangling experiences composed in the genre. Coordination between soloist, conductor and orchestra was nothing short of a miracle – just what we all need!
To close the concert, another miracle by way of a narrated performance of Elgar’s Enigma Variations with texts compiled by Mark Wigglesworth from Elgar’s own writings. The anecdotal words chosen pinpointed individual character traits to match the composer’s music to perfection. Their concision also allowed narrator Walter van Dyk dressed as the composer to deliver the vignettes with great sensitivity and a pitch-perfect late-Victorian accent without compromising the sequence of the music.
From the very opening, this was one of those special “tingle factor” performances. It’s a long time since I’ve heard Nimrod delivered with such emotional wallop. The music grew and glowed with inspirational love, friendship, sincerity and transcendence, all seemingly sung collectively in one long breath. The whole concept worked like a dream of remembrance with the orchestra intuitively relishing every character trait.
Of course the narrated version is not a substitute for the original, but it could surely secure a place in the repertoire and in music education before the subject is consigned to oblivion in our creaking system. Listening to Jesper Svedberg’s wonderfully articulate cello section plus the peerless pianissimo playing of principal clarinettist Barry Deacon in the Elgar and Brahms highlighted what we’re in danger of losing.
Speaking of loss, the concert was the last performance of principal oboist Edward Kay, who has been with BSO for 37 years. Chief Executive Dougie Scarfe opened the concert with heartfelt thanks for all his wonderful contribution together with citations from previous Chief Conductors Marin Alsop and Kirill Karabits. At the close Mark Wigglesworth offered his own personal tribute bringing Edward to the front of the stage to acknowledge fortissimo applause from audience and orchestra. Truly a vintage concert to remember in the annals of BSO performance excellence.
Critic Ian Julier
If you missed the concert you can catch up here until 29 March