SYMPHONY CONCERT, June 11. CTPO conducted by Yasuo Shinozaki, soloists Anzel Gerber, Ben Schoeman. At City Hall. DEON IRISH reviews
THE wintry chill did not deter concert goers from filling the City Hall for an intriguing programme of two distinct halves: a pre-interval collection of disparate works, ranging from three lesser known works by popular Romantic composers, to the last composition of a notable neo-Classicist who died last year.
Dvorák, Tchaikovsky and Saint-Saëns are regularly found in concert programmes the world over; yet there remain a slew of orchestral works by each of them which enjoy far less currency. This is not because of inferior quality: choices are governed by factors such as the length of a work, the forces needed (and thus cost) for its performance, and its suitability in the musical context. Both Tchaikovsky’s cello showpiece and Saint-Saëns’ piano confection suffer from being too short to fill a concerto slot and justify the engagement of a soloist; and, in the case of the Tchaikovsky piece, it is a mite too virtuosic to be assigned to many orchestral cellists.
One commends the CTPO for finding a neat solution: by programming a relatively short work that required the engagement of both piano and cello soloists, the opportunity was created to assign to each of those instrumentalists a another short solo piece. In the case of the overture, its rarity is more curious, since it does fit ideally into the conventional opening item mould. And, as boldly conducted as Shinozaki did, it’s an appealing work, with a strong melodic interest derived from two Hussite hymns, one being the St Wenceslas Chorale, employed during the piece and used to bring the overtly nationalistic work to a rousing conclusion. It remains a popular Czech hymn and perhaps it is this overt religiosity that makes it less appealing in an increasingly secular world.
Tchaikovsky wrote his piece in 1887 for the Russian cellist Anatoly Brandukov, then residing in Paris. As can be expected in a piece written for a Moscow Conservatoire gold medallist, the writing is demanding – particularly in the moto perpetuo D major central episode.
Brandukov was known both for his passionate, rich sound and for his technical wizardry. I should like to report that Gerber proved his equal, but the performance was lacking in some crucial aspects: her sound lacked frequently projection in the large venue; the central and the demi-semiquavers of the central episode did not create crotchets at the specified same tempo. The lyrical episodes were lovely, but the soaring harmonics failed to carry. Nevertheless, good to hear.
Schoeman then tossed off the “Africa” fantasy with alacrity. It’s a delicious little confection; conceived whilst on a trip to Egypt, the work has obvious references to the exotic sounds of North Africa, although the very prevalent syncopations make it a vehicle for a more widely encountered African music signature.
It’s also another vehicle for a display of virtuosity, the often light accompaniment leaving the field open to the soloist to dazzle with a parade of frequently flashy but always exhilarating piano episodes. Schoeman had more than opportunity to create magic with rapid fire broken chords, double octaves, arpeggios, chromatic scales and every other utensil in the cooking battery. Shinozaki and the orchestra scampered along as dutiful cohorts, achieving a neatly precise accompaniment. Marvellous!
The first half ended with Stefan Grové’s Bushman Prayers, a double concerto whose three movements reflect the essence of three poems, each read before its movement: the Sun as the giver of life; the moon, as the constant promise of rebirth; the brightest star as the gifter of pinpoint accuracy of the hunt.
Grové’s synthesis of Western and African musical elements was an ongoing endeavour for the last 30-odd years and, with the admixture of the oral tradition in this score, he might be considered to have achieved something of an apogee.
I was intrigued by the work and by the fluent performance it received (with Aviva Pelham a last-minute substitution as reader for the indisposed Rodney Trudgeon.) But there are some flaws, too.
The translation of the poems of the incarcerated Dia!Kwain had far to much of the elocuted elegance of Belgravia about it, as if one was discussing hunger over the cucumber sandwiches. I recall the use of this material by Pippa Skotnes in what I remember as a far earthier translation, surely more appropriate both to words and Grove’s music? The second criticism is of the orchestration which – in the outer two movements – is occasionally somewhat heavy in accompaniment and overshadowing of the solo lines.
That said, the work is undoubtedly atmospheric, a concentrated thesis on each poem, with lovely colouring and idiomatic pulses. The soloist performed with seeming distinction and Shinozaki led the orchestra in a clearly carefully-rehearsed and smoothly delivered performance. The concert ended with a fine account of Sibelius’s first symphony, beautifully conceived by Shinozaki and with fine instrumental contributions – notably by timpanist Muller.