SEEN AND HEARD INTERNATIONAL

Shostakovich, Brahms:  Sarah Chang (violin); London Symphony Orchestra/Leif Segerstam. Barbican Hall, 21.2 2008 (CC)


Sarah Chang is no stranger to the Shostakovich First Violin Concerto. Her recording with the Berliner Philharmoniker and Sir Simon Rattle, no less, is a strong contender in a hotly contested field.

Although Chang has impressed with her questing mind on disc (I think particularly of her fine and adventurous coupling of the Richard Strauss Violin Concerto and Violin Sonata on EMI – with Wolfgang Sawallisch as conductor in one and accompanying pianist in the other) live, she was just as impressive, her dark, musty tone suiting the opening ruminations of the first movement perfectly. More, her violin can sing, taking this Nocturne to the status of autumnal elegy. Segerstam's accompaniment was tenderly attentive, the LSO perfectly responsive. The fierce energy of the Scherzo's grotesque dance revealed another side of the LSO.

Technically, Chang had few problems. On an emotional level, she was impressive also, matching the orchestra's imperious, noble beginning of the grand Passacaglia by presenting a seemingly never-ending melody. A ppp, pizzicato accompanied section was literally breathtaking; rarely have I heard a Barbican audience so quiet. Further, the natural rise and fall of the terrifyingly difficult cadenza almost made one forget its difficulties. A moment of threatened ensemble in the finale hardly seemed to matter.

Microphones were present, but I suspect record contracts will prevent the concerto making the light of day and that the concert was preserved for the LSO's own archives only. A shame, as this was memorable music making.

Less memorable, perhaps, was the Brahms First Symphony after the interval. There were many plus points, from the vast expanse of the Un poco sostenuto (although Segerstam made little attempt to clarify inner parts) to the beautiflly flowing, pastoral third movement. And yet the thickness of texture repeatedly made me think of Karajan, without the genius and without the luxury of the Berliner Philharmoniker. The second movement, marked 'Andante sostenuto', was heavy on the sostenuto but rather forgot the meaning of Andante in its eagerness for profundity. This approach has its advantages – the finale's Adagio seemed to be a relative of the world of Weber's Freischütz of 55 years earlier – but in the final analysis, the piece did not add up to more than the sum of a parts, a heinous crime in a masterwork such as this. A corrective listen to Klemperer and the Philharmonia (1957, now available as part of a GROC box) soon set the record straight. Alas, the LSO's wonderful moments, such as guest leader Sarah Nemtanu's solos and the magificent brass in the work's coda, were not enough to rescue the performance.

Colin Clarke

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