Stravinsky, Prokofiev: London Symphony Orchestra Valery Gergiev (conductor), Alexander Toradze (piano). Gentlemen of the London Symphony Chorus. Barbican Hall, London. 23. 01.2007 (GD)

Gergiev’s recent appointment as the LSO’s Principal conductor has received extensive national and international press coverage; Gergiev is an international figure in a way that the retiring Sir Colin Davis (the LSO’s last Principal conductor) was not. It is generally hoped by most that Gergiev will transform the LSO from a fine British orchestra, to a world-class orchestra. Gergiev’s international status is seen as both a tremendous plus but also as a possible shortcoming in terms of the time he will be able to devote to the position. With loaded schedules in St Petersburg, Vienna, the New York Met, and other prestigious festivals how much time will he be able to give, and will the sheer extent of his work-load inhibit the position?

Tonight’s concert was interesting in that it revealed both his great strengths (orchestral detail and colour), and his occasional weaknesses (a tendency to drag, and a seeming inability to make tempo relationships cohere). The concert began with the not too much performed cantata ‘The King of the Stars’, incorporating a text by Konstantin Balmont. It is an early work, conceived in St Petersburg, and dedicated to Debussy. The cantata lasts for just over five minutes and opens with an arresting evocation of the sun, intoned by an ff declamation for male choir. The poem itself has a ‘symbolist’ element popular in Russia and Europe at his time. The significance/influence of Debussy here is registered not just in terms of appellation; the large orchestra, which rarely plays above mezzo-forte, is full of tones and colours associated with Debussy. One noticed almost immediately how Gergiev managed to sustain a true pp, especially in the intricate shimmering tones for the strings. Overall an impressive performance with a well rehearsed choir.

The ‘Scythian Suite’ was a result of Prokofiev’s first encounter with Diaghilev and was commissioned in 1915. The suite comes from Prokofiev’s original piano transcription of a projected ballet set to a text by another Russian symbolist poet Sergey Gorodetsky. The suite constitutes the composer’s orchestration from the piano score and evokes the pagan world of ‘Ala and Lolli’. Paganism in symbolist circles was quite popular at the time and one has the impression that Prokofiev used the evocation of sun-gods, sacrifices, abductions, and supernatural ‘savage’ forces, as a chance to write a challenging orchestral piece on the lines of the earlier coup Stravinsky had scored with ‘Le Sacre du Printemps.’ Gergiev obtained some powerful brass and percussion interjections in the opening ‘Adoration of Veles and Ala’. The savage ‘Dance of the Black Spirits’ was impressive, although a little more rhythmic underpinning was required. The final ‘Night’ and ‘Glorious Departure of Lolli’ and ‘Procession of the Sun’ went well, but I felt Gergiev allowed the tension to sag at times, probably to do with his habit of suddenly and arbitrarily changing gear to a slower tempo. The LSO brass has a tendency to blare out, which was fine here in the fff writing, but this should be countered with a more ‘mezzo’ range which does not obliterate the strings and winds in the appropriate passages. This performance, although impressive in parts, did not erase memories of performances heard from Abbado and from the superb Dorati recording with the LSO of the sixties.

Stravinsky has written of how difficult it was to get conductors and instrumentalists/pianists to adapt to his new ideas in sound and composition contained in the Piano Concerto with wind instruments. At its first performance at the Paris Opera in 1924, with Koussevitzky conducting, Stravinsky, who was writing for the piano as a percussion instrument, played the piano part himself. The piece is fascinating in being both totally innovative in technique and tonal register, but also looking back to older, even baroque, forms of contrapuntal composition. Gergiev used quite a large contingent of double-bass players (six in fact) which accompany 10 woodwind and twelve brass instruments, plus timpani. Occasionally the interplay between woodwind, brass and double-basses was smudged, partly due to the Barbican acoustic. The performance overall dragged in certain places; the ritualistic sounding intrada in diatonic mode for example. But Gergiev increased the pace in the Allegro to good effect. At times the woodwind sounded too loud and lacked the necessary contrast with the brass. The timpani part could have been more agile, with more varied sticks. The final Allegro went quite well with a few wrong entries in the brass and woodwind. What made the performance interesting was the totally idiomatic playing of Alexander Toradze, a pianist who understands modern piano technique more than most. The wonderfully playful but chromatically charged final Allegro was played in a way which was both percussive and highly musical, surely commensurate with Stravinsky’s own conception of the piano part. Why don’t we hear more from Toradze?

Although Stravinsky used to call the Firebird his ‘audience lollipop’ he had a great affection for his early orchestral masterpiece, making several revisions of the whole score and the more famous suite. The Firebird suite has become something of a calling-card for Gergiev and he certainly has his own ideas about how the music should sound and what manner of tempi should be adopted. Stravinsky’s 1960’s recording of the complete ballet score still sounds incredibly fresh and direct. It simply astounds me that the majority of conductors who have performed and recorded the work have not learnt from the composer’s score and recorded example!

Suffice it to say that tonight’s performance was well rehearsed and well played (despite some over-loud woodwind and brass, at moments when they should be playing less than ff), and occasional smudged rhythms (especially in the ‘Infernal dance of Kastchei’). It was very much Gergiev’s Firebird, and at times it sounded absolutely thrilling, as in the superb articulation of string and woodwind counterpoint in the ‘Round dance of the princesses’. A point rarely commented on in discourses on the Firebird is how intricately and magnificently Stravinsky interweaves the related thematic structure of the score, with only very subtle changes of tempo; why do most conductors, including Gergiev, drag the penultimate ‘Lullaby of the Firebird’ when Stravinsky indicates a clear 2/4 onward measure? Stravinsky (and van Beinum) play this as written, leading us on to the blazing ‘general rejoicing’ (where the repeated chords on brass remind us of the figure in the bass at the works opening) in the same tempo. When it is played at the composer’s tempo it sounds breathtakingly inevitable: when it drags, as here, it sounds portentous and unidiomatic, detached from the rest of the work.

Also, why do most conductors, including Gergiev, play the final repeated brass chords (the transformed theme from the beginning of the work) as long, almost legato, notes? In the score, and in the composer’s recording they are played abruptly as staccato sforzandi and only really make sense in relation to thematic structure of the work if played this way. One final feature Gergiev employed tonight – at this blazing finale three trumpeters appeared from the choir doors at the back of the orchestra and, standing, reinforced the rest of the orchestra in full throttle! Was this really necessary? Did it have some symbolic significance unknown to me? I would have been happier if Gergiev had been content to play Stravinsky’s score as Stravinsky wrote it.

Geoff Diggines