Elgar: James Ehnes (violin), Philharmonia Orchestra, Sir Andrew Davis (conductor), St. David’s Hall, Cardiff, 18.05.2007 (GPu)

Serenade in E minor for String Orchestra, Op.20 (1893)
Violin Concerto in B minor, Op.61 (1909-10)
Symphony No.1 in A flat major, Op.55 (1907-08)

 

The famous Elgarian nostalgia isn’t just a question of mood (a mood more complex and subtle than is sometimes recognised) it is also a formal matter. ‘Nostos’, the Greek root of our word nostalgia, means homecoming and homecoming is precisely what so much of Elgar’s music enacts, its endings so often directly echoic of its beginnings.

The early Serenade in E minor is a case in point. The finale’s reaffirmation of the central theme from the first movement effectively closes the circle. In this early work the path around the musical circle is a pretty simple one, unproblematical because the work never, either emotionally or formally, seeks to diverge from the expected route . The first movement is marked “allegro piacevole”, the central larghetto is characterised by a kind of heightened, rapt immobility and the closing movement (allegretto – come prima) does not essentially challenge the mood. Here, in a performance given as part of the Philharmonia Orchestra’s Elgar celebrations, the Serenade sounded extraordinarily beautiful. Andrew Davis shaped its phrases with great clarity and yet the orchestral sound had a melting loveliness. That fusion of clarity and deliquescence fitted the work to perfection and it was not hard to understand why even the elderly Elgar regarded this as one of his favourite works – it was, indeed, the last work that he recorded (in 1933).

The Violin Concerto in B minor also has an essential circularity, though the outlines are more complex, the path less simple. James Ehnes was an impressive soloist; his playing never seems hurried, and there were moments when a degree of detachment or coolness perfectly complemented the full-blooded orchestral playing. Ehnes’ instrument – the so-called ‘Ex Marsick’ Stradivarius of 1715 – made a gorgeous sound, full of subtle tonal colours. The initial orchestral exposition had both force and lyricism, the soloist’s entry undemonstrative but commanding attention as he reworked and reconsidered the three themes previously introduced by the orchestra. Ehnes and Davis seemed very comfortable with one another, the sense of dialogue real and convincing. Davis’ unfussy but exact control of dynamics made for some effective contrasts, not least in the andante, where the music was both intimate and public, both private (we needn’t go into the question of whose ‘soul’ is enshrined in the work) and universal. Ehnes and Davis alike found in the music a dignity entirely free of stuffiness, a lyricism quite without sentimentality. In the final allegro molto, when Elgar’s writing is especially subtle and complex, the performance was at its most utterly convincing. The deferred cadenza was memorable; Ehnes’ playing here provided a lucid retrospective (with variations and innovations) of all that had gone before, making explicit some of the musical connections we might otherwise miss, throwing fresh light on the shape and meaning of the whole and – yes – bringing us back ‘home’, with its expressive restatement of the work’s main themes. This was top-class music making and persuasive advocacy for a work that perhaps is still not played as often as it should be.

The programme was brought to a close with a performance of the First Symphony that was similarly convincing. The opening nobilmente theme begins another ‘circle’, effectively to be marked out by the theme’s two fullish later restatements (amongst many other partial re-soundings) at the end of the first movement and then, marked grandioso, just before the end of the whole work. But this circle involves a far more problematical journey than that made in the Serenade which opened the evening. In between there is much that is troubled, much that disrupts or threatens to disrupt any such act of homecoming. Davis’ conducting was dramatic, accents often quite fiercely marked, contrasts of tempo and dynamics by no means understated, though never handled too abruptly. The first movement’s storms were forceful, the fragments of material (to be made ‘whole’ later) serving to make the assurance of the opening seem now rather far away. In the two central movements, the juxtaposition of ominous march and delicate, pastoral lyricism makes for music of considerable emotional complexity, a complexity well articulated here, and for the organic emergence of the tranquil third movement. In these two movements, closely linked in every way, Innocence and Experience (to use Blake’s terminology) are inseparable facets of the same complex state of mind – and not necessarily easy to distinguish. Davis’ reading allowed the ambiguity its full weight. In the last movement, Davis’ grip on both the larger arcs of structure and on the many recapitulations of detail was impressive. Here, as throughout, there was a notable coherence to Davis’ reading of the work. When the main theme returned, when the music came ‘home’, the arrival was certainly not simply triumphant. Any sense of triumph, of hope for the future, was ‘troubled’ by awareness of the very different landscapes through which the journey had passed. Yes, there was grandeur at the close, but it was grandeur lacking in absolute self-confidence, perhaps asserting itself with some urgency because of doubts not easy to ignore or forget. In short, this was a performance which did something like full justice to Elgar’s subtlety and complexity, to the sheer musical sophistication and emotional range of the work.

 

Glyn Pursglove