Mr Nicholas and I attended the next in our Mahler series last night (for the uninitiated: we made a pact a few years ago to see all the Mahler symphonies performed live, in chronological order). The programme was:
Samuel Barber -
First Essay for OrchestraLudwig van Beethoven -
Piano Concerto No. 3 (soloist: Llyr Williams)
Gustav Mahler -
Symphony No. 5 (By this, you'll be able to tell that we're nearly half-way through our odyssey)
The orchestra was the Minnesota Orchestra conducted by Osmo Vanska.
The whole evening was superb, starting as we did with crepes and French cider at the South Kensington creperie (I had a bizarre cheesy-fishy concoction which was most pleasant. Nicholas had a sweet banana and chocolate one which looked gorgeous). Every item on the concert programme was exceptionally played, though never to the point where all the "danger" went out of the performance.
To digress, I think the "danger" is a key element of all live performance now, but particularly in the Classical sphere: a good concert should, as well as providing all the usual musical tension and release, should heighten this feeling through the knowledge that
it could fall apart at any moment. All it would take is for the first trumpet or the timpanist to have spent too long in the pub and it could all go wrong. Obviously, common sense tells you these are professionals and even if there was the odd slip, it wouldn't be fatal. But on the rare occasions I have seen an orchestra playing something they have had in their repertoire for the past few months, and are obviously supremely competent at playing, the pervading feeling is one of blandness, and you can almost feel the (relative) disinterestedness from the orchestra.
Anyway, back on topic. Two things struck me most of all last night. The first was during the Beethoven. Llyr WIlliams gave an exceptional performance, especially given that he was a last-minute replacement for Dawn Upshaw singing the UK Premiere of new songs by Golijov, (It was nice to see the pleasantly rowdy group of "prommers" welcome him to the Albert Hall in Welsh). However, Williams did do quite a lot of "emoting" over the piano. I remember the last concert I was at, we saw Lang Lang play Mozart's Piano Concerto no.21 (I think...), and he too did an awful lot of "emoting". What I mean by this is a lot of swoops, swaying, leering and gurning over the piano while throwing yourself passionately into the music. I guess it would be called showmanship.
I don't have a problem with this, except that at times it can prove rather distracting and, particularly in Lang Lang's case, seems rather inappropriate for the relative restraint of the Mozart. On the subject of Wolfgang, I believe he was said to have strongly disapproved of performers who "emoted" during a performance, on one occasion commenting that it lookked like the performer was in the throes of a fit. I think in modern times, no-one could really expect a performer to sit rigidly upright at the piano, but I think in terms of "showmanship", less is definitely better.
I have waffled quite a bit, but I just wanted to touch on the orchestra. One thing you do tend to notice is that American orcehstras play with a very lush tone. I appreciate that virtually everything on the programme last night demanded this, but there was a real feeling of broadness, of richness in the orchestra. Of course, it was the Americans who pioneered the larger bore brass instruments we have now and which are standard in most (non-period) orchestras (sometimes to the detriment of the performance - there was very little difference in timbre between the French Horns and the Trombones last night, which was a little confusing at times). But I don't mean to gripe (I wouldn't give up my large-bore Conn 88H for anything). The thing that struck me was the supreme confidence that excuded from all the players.
A case in point: Mahler is quite clear in his instructions about when he wants the bells of brass and woodwind instruments to be raised, and the orchestra followed it to the letter, with the Clarinets at one point looking like they were trying to launch things into the audience. In one of the solo trombone passages, I thought the trombonist was actually going to play vertically upwards. But actually, he played at the perfect angle to project into the hall, as did the Clarinets, the Horns, and the other instruments following this particular instruction.
The sheer confidence, the swagger of these players was fantastic to see - you got the feeling this was a happy orchestra, supremely capable and enjoying themselves while playing (which is actually a surprisingly rare sight). Possibly this comes from the greater investment in and affluence of American orchestras in comparison to their European couterparts. Whatever the contributing factors however, it works.
It's interesting isn't it? I crticised the soloist for his excessive showmanship, yet am praising the orchestra for theirs. It's not quite inconsistent however - the orchestral showmanship does originate from instructions on the page, whereas the soloist was bringing his own personality to bear on the performance.
But anyway, these are just a few small things that occured to me during a rather excellent concert, and evening as a whole.
