Honegger, Schumann,
Nielsen: Gävle Symphony Orchestra, Gustavo Dudamel
(conductor), Katrine Gislinge
(piano), Gävle Concert Hall, Sweden,
2.12.2005 (GF)
Honegger: Prelude pour La Tempete
Schumann: Piano Concerto in A minor,
Op. 54
Nielsen: Symphony No. 1 in G Minor,
Op. 7
The Gävle Symphony Orchestra
have really been on their toes lately when it comes to engaging
young and thrilling conductors. A couple of months ago I
wrote about a concert with the new chief-conductor-to-be,
Robin Ticciati (see review).
Now they have hooked 24-year-old Venezuelan Gustavo Dudamel,
probably the hottest name among the youngest generation
of conductors since his victory last year in the Bamberg
Symphony’s Mahler competition. He hit the headlines in August
when he stepped in at short notice for an ailing Neeme Järvi, conducting the Gothenburg
SO at a Proms
concert and he already has an exclusive recording contract
with Deutsche Grammophon. He will make his debut with the Stockholm Philharmonic
in mid-December but two concerts with the Gävle
orchestra – in Västerås on Thursday
and then in their home venue on Friday – seems to be his
first appearances in Sweden.
A conductor’s first entrance is always a thrilling moment
and more often than not the first-sight impression is confirmed
by their approach to the music. Dudamel
walked in, determinedly, somewhat impatiently, after a short
bow entered the rostrum, a short glance at the orchestra
and – here we go!
His choice of programme was not very predictable: it
seems he has an inquisitive mind and, apart from the Schumann
concerto, this was not what we hear every day, maybe not
even every decade, in the concert hall. Three composers
from three generations and in each case works from their
relative youth. In the case of Schumann this is only half
the truth, since the piano concerto was written by a mature
composer, but the first sketches of what was originally
a Fantasy in A minor can be traced back to 1839 when he
was 29. Honegger was 31 when he wrote the incidental music for Shakespeare’s
“The Tempest” and Carl Nielsen had begun working on his
first symphony in 1890, when he was 25. So it seems that
Dudamel, himself a composer, intentionally
or not had chosen compositions from his own age-group. His
entrance was youthful and eager; his music making correspondingly.
And the orchestra were certainly on their toes, responding
willingly to maestro Dudamels
intentions. Although provincial in the sense that they are
not located to a major city like Stockholm or Gothenburg,
there is nothing provincial about their playing. It is a
middle-sized band but with homogenous string tone and excellent
wind players, some of whom were also heard to good effect
solo wise. Readers who will not be able to visit Gävle
and judge by themselves are recommended to buy the recently
issued disc with Franz Berwald’s
Tone Poems on Naxos (see reviews: 1 and 2).
Honegger’s music is regrettably rarely
encountered in the concert halls today. I can’t recall hearing
anything by him performed live, not even in France, for
the last twenty years. Still his is a very distinctive voice
in post-WW1 orchestral music and his symphonies should be
standard fare if there is any justice in this world. The
short prelude to “The Tempest” – one of no less than 29
plays that he wrote music for – is a real opener. The listener
is at once thrown into the turmoil caused by the powers
of nature. It is aggressive, energetic music, graphically
illustrating the howling winds, the thunder – there is a
large percussion department engaged with the bass drum rumbling
ominously – the rolling waves. There is little scope for
interpretative delicacies; rhythmic precision is the key
word and Dudamel, like a puppet-master,
had all the strings in a firm grip to pull at the right
moment. For modern ears, attuned to much latter day music,
this was maybe not very forbidding but I suspect that the
audience at Théâtre de l’Odéon in Paris back in 1923 may have been taken aback. A
thrilling opening it certainly was.
Schumann’s Piano Concerto introduced us to the Danish
pianist Katrine Gislinge,
who has an international career but has only appeared in
Sweden on tour with a Danish symphony orchestra. She is
in her mid-thirties and a mature artist who offered a very
poetic reading of the concerto, reminding me of another
poet of the piano, Hungarian Lili
Kraus, whose recording of this concerto was my introduction
to this music. Conductor and soloist seemed to be in agreement,
since Dudamel managed to make
the rather thick orchestration appear uncommonly translucent.
It might have sounded something like this on period instruments
in the mid-19th century. Springy rhythms in the
outer movements kept the music alive, and if “poetic” gives
the impression of a small-scale performance, that was definitely
not the case. Even if this is not exactly a virtuoso concerto
there are heavy technical demands on the soloist, especially
in the last movement, and Katrine Gislinge met them with accuracy.
The enthusiastic response from the audience rendered an
encore, a nocturne by Chopin, which further emphasised her
poetic credentials.
Carl Nielsen’s first symphony, certainly the least played
of the six, is an exuberant piece, formally in G minor but
starting in C major and also ending in that key with jubilant
fanfares. Dudamel obviously relished
in this youthful music, wallowing in the romantic ebb and
flow of the outer movements and catching the blond Nordic
melancholy of the middle movements, especially the andante
in which one felt transported to a verdant summer meadow
in Funen. The finale was whipped
up into a near frenzy and it felt like the temperature in
the hall rose several degrees. A flourish from the orchestra
and standing ovations from the audience was audible and
visible proof that both parties took Gustavo Dudamel to their hearts, and Dudamel,
newly married just two weeks ago, shone like the Venezuelan
sun. And for good reasons. On this hearing he seems to be
destined for a great career and the management of the Gävle
Symphony Orchestra must be congratulated for having caught
such a golden fish.
Göran Forsling
