In concert – Cleveland Orchestra / Franz Welser-Möst @ Carnegie Hall: Prokofiev & Webern symphonies

Prokofiev’s trademark technicolour orchestration contrasted with Webern’s sparse score for his Symphony Op.21 performed by the Cleveland Orchestra with Franz Welser-Möst.

Cleveland Orchestra / Franz Welser-Möst

Prokofiev Symphony No. 2 in D Minor Op. 40 (1924-1925)
Webern Symphony, Op. 21 (1927-1928)
Prokofiev Symphony No. 5 in B-flat Major, Op. 100 (1944)

Carnegie Hall, United States
Sunday 21 January 2024

Reviewed by Jon Jacob. Photo (c) Jon Jacob

Most concerts start with some kind of concert opener. An overture, for example, gives the band on stage the opportunity to get accustomed to the acoustic with an audience in it, while giving the audience a chance to settle down before the main event. That the Cleveland Orchestra got underway so deftly with the epic industrial landscape of Prokofiev’s Second Symphony immediately hinted at the kind of concert this would turn out to be. 

Conducted by their music director, Austrian conductor Franz Welser-Most, the Cleveland Orchestra presented three works as part of Carnegie Hall’s ongoing series examining the fall of the Weimar Republic: two symphonies by Russian composer Prokofiev, contrasted with Webern’s Symphony for chamber ensemble. 

Prokofiev’s Second Symphony, written in 1924 and premiered in Paris in 1925, is an epic work brimming with fiendish detail and tantalising textures. The first movement’s brutal industrial landscape is depicted with a gargantuan, lumbering brass section, piercing brass top lines, and occasionally shrill woodwind. The combination did at times cause the person sat next to me at Carnegie Hall to put her fingers in her ears. This was contrasted by a tender oboe solo at the beginning of the short second movement theme, followed by a series of short variations which saw a remarkable range of colours and textures from the strings and woodwind. This was a polished, confident and assertive performance throughout, right from the start.  

In contrast, the material in the Prokofiev’s Fifth Symphony, written in 1944 when the composer had returned to the Soviet Union, is lighter and the treatment of it far more playful, energetic and in places vigorous. In the performance, the orchestra sometimes sounded underpowered meaning things felt overly romantic. The second movement Allegro had spirit and bounce, moving through multiple personalities and moods, cheerful, cheeky and, from to time, just a hint of macabre too, though, like the final movement, it did feel like it lacked a bit of grit. After Franz Welser-Most paused for a police siren to disappear out of earshot down 7th Avenue, the third movement opened with tantalizingly papery strings over which the solo was passed effortlessly between different combinations of woodwind instruments whilst still making everything feel whole. Later we heard rich, warm, heart-tugging string sounds (the leaps in the upper strings got me every single time).

Webern’s ‘miniature’ ten-minute, two-movement Symphony, written three years after Prokofiev’s Second Symphony, could have sounded like an academic curiosity in comparison to the Russian composer’s technicolour orchestration. Yet in this concert, Webern’s Op. 21 acted as a palette cleanser, pivoting us from the epic Second to the more box-office appealing Fifth of Prokofiev’s symphonies.

Special praise to Cleveland’s principal clarinet Afendi Yusuf, whose rounded burgundy tone was simply to die for. A gorgeous sound throughout. Excitable applause also for some fruity queues from bass clarinetist Amy Zoloto and contrabasoonist Jonathan Sherwin.

Further listening

Some recommended recordings to listen to are based simply on the final movement allegro which in the case of Herbert von Karajan’s Berlin Philharmonic recording is a tour-de-force. On the other hand, in Valery Gergiev and the London Symphony’s performance, there’s a crazed sense of menace. In concert, Franz Welser-Most seemed to pull out a more playful character in the final movement and this is also reflected in the Cleveland’s 2023 recording under his direction. I’m always going to prefer the unhinged characterisation, but that probably says more about my character than it does about the performance.

Meanwhile the Cleveland Orchestra recorded Webern’s Symphony as part of an album devoted to the composer’s orchestral music, under their former music director Christoph von Dohnányi in 1998.

Jon Jacob is a writer, digital content producer and strategist, authors the Thoroughly Good Classical Music Blog, and produces the Thoroughly Good Podcast.

Published post no.2,064 – Monday 22 January 2024

In concert – Eugene Tzikindelean, CBSO / Kazuki Yamada: Dai Fujikura, Walton & Berlioz

Eugene Tzikindelean (violin), City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra / Kazuki Yamada

Fujikura Wavering World (2022) [CBSO co-commission: UK premiere]
Walton Violin Concerto in B minor (1938-9, rev. 1943)
Berlioz Symphonie Fantastique, Op. 14 (1830)

Symphony Hall, Birmingham
Wednesday 17th January 2024

Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse. Photos (c) Beki Smith

Tonight’s concert by the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra brought a varied trilogy of works, one which started with a first UK hearing (following its premiere in Seattle almost two years ago) of Wavering World by the Japanese-born and British-based composer Dai Fujikura.

In his programme note, Fujikura remarks on how little he knew of his traditional culture until having left Japan, and this piece draws upon the myth surrounding creation for an eventful if always cohesive journey through the emergence of the heavenly world, the human world and the underworld. This is achieved by separating the orchestra into stratified layers that do not succeed each other as merge into diverse and intricate textures where these sizable forces are imaginatively deployed; the music gradually moving away from its earlier austerity toward a luxuriance whose salient motifs are recognizable despite their transformation. Directing with unerring focus, Kazuki Yamada secured a vivid rendition which also served as a reminder that Fujikura is less often heard than might be in his country of residence these past three decades.

The fortunes of Walton’s Violin Concerto have lessened this past quarter-century, so Eugene Tzikindelean’s advocacy was its own justification. He had the measure of the initial Andante’s alternation between languor and agitation, ingenuity of thematic transformation offsetting any lack of originality in its themes, then gave of his best during a central Presto whose technical fireworks are tellingly balanced by yearning lyricism. If the final Vivace was less convincing, this might have reflected on the actual music – Walton putting his ideas through their audibly Prokofievian paces before evoking Elgar in a lengthy accompanied cadenza then gratuitously affirmative coda. The CBSO gave stalwart support, just over 50 years since it accompanied Yehudi Menuhin and the composer in a performance commemorating Walton’s 70th birthday.

After the interval, Yamada (above) presided over a ‘no holds barred’ reading of Berlioz’s Fantastic Symphony. The latter-day tendency is to stress its symphonic cogency, but there was little of this in a Daydreams and Passions veering impulsively, even recklessly, between despondency and elation. The waltz element of A Ball was nudged out of shape, but its darker undertones were well judged, with the lengthy build-up then lingering subsidence of Scene in the Fields enhanced by Rachael Pankhurst’s plangent cor anglais and ominous timpani toward the close.

This was hardly the first performance to head off seemingly at a tangent, but March to the Scaffold (shorn of its first-half repeat, as had been the opening movement) quickly became   a parade-ground romp in which the fateful fall of the guillotine went for relatively little. Nor was Dream of a Witches’ Sabbath without its Disney-like element of overkill, though here Yamada ensured a stealthy accumulation through its reiterations of the Dies irae plainchant and fugal episode to a peroration whose thunderous power seemed nothing if not conclusive.

An Episode in the life of an Artist, indeed, as demonstrably left its mark on the enthusiastic audience. Yamada and the CBSO will be doing it all again on April 10th, but next week sees the more Classical appeal of Mozart and Beethoven in the company of Maxim Emelyanychev.

Click on the link to read more on the current CBSO concert season, and on the names for more on violinist Eugene Tzikindelean, conductor Kazuki Yamada and composer Dai Fujikara

Published post no.2,063 – Sunday 21 January 2024

In concert – Paul Lewis, CBSO / Tabita Berglund: Sibelius, Grieg & Tchaikovsky

Paul Lewis (piano), City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra / Tabita Berglund

Sibelius Pohjola’s Daughter Op.49 (1906)
Grieg Piano Concerto in A minor Op.16 (1868)
Tchaikovsky Symphony no.5 in E minor Op.64 (1888)

Symphony Hall, Birmingham
Thursday 11th January 2024 [2.15pm]

Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse

Entering 2024 with this attractive programme, the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra was conducted by Tabita Berglund – the Norwegian who, though unrelated to the late, great Paavo, seems certain to become one of the most significant conductors from her generation.

It was with Sibelius that the programme commenced, Pohjola’s Daughter lying on the cusp between its composer’s nationalistically inclined Romanticism and the relative Classicism that ensued. Pointedly so given the composer derived his inspiration from the Kalevala, in which its totemic figure Väinämöinen is outwitted by the ‘daughter of the North’, as the basis for a symphonic fantasia which critiques as surely as it remodels its underlying sonata design. Other interpreters have ensured a more seamless cohesion, but the acute characterization that Berglund brought to each episode, then the emotional frisson when those main motifs come together for a powerful apotheosis, compelled admiration – as did the closing pages in which Sibelius cannily fragments form and texture so all that remains is an all-enveloping silence.

Its ubiquity across 150 years should not distract attention from the innovative qualities found in Grieg’s Piano Concerto, and if his was not a consciously recreative approach, Paul Lewis gave a performance as appealing as it was insightful. Not least in an opening Allegro whose melodic directness was always balanced by a tangible sense of where this music was headed, and culminating in a take on the lengthy cadenza that infused its rhetoric with an inevitability worthy of Beethoven. There was expressive light and shade aplenty in the central Adagio, as too an unforced progress to the heartfelt restatement of its main theme. The outer sections of the final Allegro had no lack of impetus, as if to emphasize contrast with its rapt flute melody that closes the work in a thrilling peroration where soloist and conductor were rightly as one.

After the interval, Tchaikovsky’s Fifth Symphony emerged as a forceful and combative piece with its occasional longueurs convincingly held in check. Not least in an opening movement, the simmering expectancy of whose introduction intensified throughout what followed. Any short-windedness of phrasing was absent in the Andante cantabile, its indelible horn melody serenely intoned by Elspeth Dutch then its interplay between slow-burning eloquence and violent interjections of the ‘fate’ theme astutely judged on route to a warmly resigned coda.

Ostensibly an interlude, the Valse has a charm and, in its central trio, insouciance as belies its formal ingenuity that Berglund conveyed in full measure. Nor was there any sense of overkill as the Finale pursued a purposeful but never headlong course – its initial restatement of the main theme exuding an expressive focus matched by that of its climactic reappearance, here without risk of bathos in what brought the performance to a decisive and affirmative close. Certainly, the composer’s doubts as to any ‘insincerity’ proved unfounded on this occasion. It also confirmed a rapport between Berglund and the CBSO which will hopefully continue. Next week, however, brings the return of Kazuki Yamada for a wide-ranging programme of Berlioz, Walton and the world premiere of a newly commissioned work from Dai Fujikura.

Click on the link to read more on the current CBSO concert season, and on the artist names for more on Tabita Berglund and Paul Lewis

Published post no.2,054 – Friday 12 January 2024

In concert – Eduardo Vassallo, Chris Yates, CBSO / Kazuki Yamada: Richard Strauss – Don Quixote; Beethoven ‘Eroica’ Symphony

Eduardo Vassallo (cello), Chris Yates (viola), City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra / Kazuki Yamada

Richard Strauss Don Quixote Op.35 (1897)
Beethoven Symphony no.3 in E flat major Op.55 ‘Eroica’ (1803-4)

Kazuki Yamada and Tom Morris (concept), Rod Maclachlan (video design), Zeynep Kepekli, lighting design), Gustave Doré (illustrations)

Symphony Hall, Birmingham
Wednesday 13 December 2023

Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse. Photos (c) Hannah Fathers

Tonight’s concert from the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra was not only the orchestra’s final concert before its Christmas season, but also the first to feature a new concept of presentation with a view to reimagining just what the concertgoing experience might be like in the future.

Not that this concept was uniformly applied to the pair of works in question. In the first half, Richard Strauss’s Don Quixote was accompanied by rehearsal and live footage relayed via screens as placed to the left, above and to the right of the platform. They gave passing insight into cellist Eduardo Vassallo’s preparing to take the stage, then kept a close watch on his interaction with violist Chris Yates – their musical repartee informing much of what follows. Less convincing was the selection from Gustave Doré who, while he died over a decade before Strauss’s work, still anticipated its concerns in his illustrations for an 1863 edition of Cervantes. These were rather generally applied over the work’s course with few references to Dulcinea who, while she does not appear in the novel, is yet a pervasive influence on the latter stages of the score.

The performance was a notable one in terms of Kazuki Yamada’s surveying this piece as a cumulatively unfolding whole – its 10 variations, each keenly characterized, framed by an increasingly ominous introduction and warmly resigned epilogue. Vassallo had the measure of what, for all its virtuosity, is essentially a concertante rather than solo part and, for which reason, tends to come off best when taken by a section-leader. Not all those frequently dense textures emerged with ideal clarity and motivic unity, which ensures formal and expressive focus as the work proceeds, could have been clearer in its climactic stages, but an essential humanity was always to the fore as Yamada perceived it. Those hearing it for the first time could hardly have failed to be impressed with Strauss’s ambition or moved by his response.

Less so, perhaps, by Beethoven’s Eroica Symphony after the interval. Here the visual element centred largely on the musicians as the account took place – except during the first movement, when a photographic roll-call of the CBSO’s ‘heroes’ (musical and otherwise) was laminated onto the music – thus robbing it of the means to transcend time and place as surely as had the composer those of revolution or Bonaparte. Elsewhere, the standing-up of individual players and sections to highlight salient aspects of the piece was rather inconsistently applied – why, for instance, did the horns not do so with their unison statement of the ‘Prometheus’ theme in the finale (Thomas Beecham did this decades ago) – while the emerging photos of orchestral members mid-way through that movement risked seeming an awkwardly sentimental gesture.

All of this might have mattered less had the reading carried consistent conviction. As it was, the opening Allegro stuck doggedly to a tempo that felt more than a little stolid – its climactic moments undermined by pauses that impeded the musical flow, though the coda yielded the right emotional frisson. The highlight was a Funeral March whose fatalism was leavened by acute pathos at its climax, with a coda whose disintegration audibly left its mark. If the outer sections of the Scherzo seemed just a little deadpan, its trio was rousingly despatched by the three horns, and the initial stages of the finale had a welcome spontaneity as the ‘Prometheus’ theme is put through its paces. A pity Yamada slowed right down for its restatement midway through, resulting in a serious loss of momentum that not even an incisive coda could regain.

Tonight’s concert was a concerted and not unsuccessful attempt to confront the issue of how to attract a younger and more inclusive audience to classical music. Where it foundered was on a misguided premise that bombarding those present with images somehow makes them listen more intently. For this to come about, they need to be encouraged to focus collective attention aurally rather than just visually – a challenge such as Symphony Hall, with its all-round excellence and its many acoustical resources, would seem ideally equipped to fulfil.

This is evidently an experimental phase for the CBSO, as various possibilities are tried out, but an emphasis on sonic enhancement, allied to the subtle if pervasive presence of lighting, is arguably one way forward and could ultimately blaze a trail for the concert of the future.

You can read all about the 2023/24 season and book tickets at the CBSO website. Click on the names for more information on conductor Kazuki Yamada, cellist Eduardo Vassallo, violist Chris Yates – and also on the names for more on Tom Morris, Rod Maclachlan, Zeynep Kepekli and Gustave Doré

Published post no.2,044 – Tuesday 19 December 2023

In concert – CBSO / Mirga Gražinytė-Tyla: From Mirga With Love

Marie-Christine Zupancic (flute), Oliver Janes (clarinet), Eugene Tzikindelean (violin), Adam Römer (viola), Onutė Gražinytė (piano), City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra / Mirga Gražinytė-Tyla

Traditional (arr. Raminta Šerkšnytė) Anksti rytą kėliau
Čiurlionis (ed. Charalampos Efthymiou) Miške (1901) [UK premiere]
Weinberg Clarinet Concerto Op.104 (1970)
Loboda Requiem for Ukraine (2014)
Weinberg 12 Miniatures for Flute (1945, orch. 1983) [UK premiere]
Kakhidze Bruderschaft (1996) [UK premiere]

Symphony Hall, Birmingham
Wednesday 6 December 2023

Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse. Picture of Mirga (c) Beki Smith

The sound of a Lithuanian folksong I got up early in the morning, plaintively sung by Mirga Gražinytė-Tyla and accompanied by her sister Onutė, introduced tonight’s concert where the conductor made a welcome reappearance with the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra.

MGT gave a memorable performance (not for all the right reasons) of Mikalojus Čiurlionis’s symphonic poem The Sea during her tenure as music director, and the CBSO sounded equally assured with his earlier such piece In the Forest that opened the programme. Here once again the composer’s over-ambition is evident from a rather episodic construction and the textural overload (odd in music this opulently scored to have had no timpani, as might have brought greater definition to emotional highpoints), though had Čiurlionis heard this in performance the outcome might have been otherwise. What remains is a sequence of enticing paragraphs, framed by ones whose formal and expressive aims seemed impressively as one in pointing towards just what might have been possible were it not for his demise at the age of only 35.

The music of Mieczysław Weinberg has been a preoccupation of MGT for over a decade, and it was good to hear this continue through two pieces in which CBSO principals played to their strengths. Oliver Janes sounded enthused by the Clarinet Concerto, its initial Allegro pivoting between incisiveness and inwardness typical of the composer’s maturity. The Andante brought a plangent interplay of soloist and strings, with the sardonic humour of the ensuing Allegretto building toward a cadenza whose entreaties were curtailed by the peremptory closing gestures.

Commissioned after Russia’s occupation of the Crimea, Igor Loboda’s Requiem for Ukraine has only become timelier this decade since – its heady series of variations within a chaconne-like form offering no mean technical challenges that Eugene Tzikindelean met with panache.

As did Marie-Christine Zupancic the more restrained subtleties of Weinberg’s 12 Miniatures for Flute. Composed with piano accompaniment and arranged for strings almost four decades later, these deft and often characterful vignettes follow a methodical tonal progression, while the opting to render them as three groups of four implied a latent fast-slow-fast format akin to that of a concerto. At no time was there any sense of Weinberg being less idiomatic or more impersonal in pieces which are as meticulously realized as any of his larger compositions.

After this, the paucity of content in Vakhtang Kakhidze’s Bruderschaft (Brotherhood) was only too evident. A ‘sinfonia concertante’ for viola, piano and strings, its easeful opening section had a certain charm of which Adam Römer’s playing was nothing if not persuasive, but the livelier music that followed was lounge-jazz at its most cliched and neither the violist’s input nor an almost choreographed response from Onutė Gražinytė raised it above the commonplace. Both these sections were elaborated to little intrinsic purpose, other than to prolong what was already a lengthy concert such that numerous attendees could be seen departing in those final minutes.

A pity in what was otherwise a rewarding programme as reaffirmed MGT’s continued rapport with her former orchestra. Hopefully there will be more such collaborations in future seasons.

You can read all about the 2023/24 season and book tickets at the CBSO website. Click on the artist names for more information on Mirga Gražinytė-Tyla, Marie-Christine Zupancic, Oliver Janes, Eugene Tzikindelean, Adam Römer and finally Onutė Gražinytė

Published post no.2,033 – Friday 8 December 2023