SEEN AND HEARD INTERNATIONAL

Prom 35, Elgar, Vaughan Williams and Rimsky Korsakov: Ashley Wass (piano), BBC Philharmonic Orchestra, Vassily Sinaisky, Royal Albert Hall, London, 12.8.2008 (BBr)

Edward Elgar: Overture: In the South (Alassio), op.50 (1903/1904)

Ralph Vaughan Williams: Piano Concerto in C (1926/1931) 

Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov: Symphonic Suite: Scheherazade (1888)


Is In the South a concert overture or a tone poem? It’s a big piece, in many different sections, basically in sonata form, brilliantly orchestrated in Elgar’s best cavalier style and it plays for about 20 minutes. I am convinced that it’s certainly not a concert overture, but as it doesn’t tell a story it’s hard to see it as a tone poem. Perhaps we’re better seeing it as a colourful travelogue of southern Italy. In its grand, heroic, manner it much better suits the end of a concert rather than a beginning – there’s too much to grasp and to have it followed by another large work rather cloaks the many wonderful things Elgar gives us – a bold Richard Straußian opening paragraph, a melting second theme, a vision of the old days, the scene by moonlight (very distinguished playing here by principal viola Steven Burnard) and a virtuoso coda after a brief recap of earlier music. Tonight, Sinaisky was in total control of this work, molding together the many different moods and pictures, making a coherent whole of a piece which can seem episodic in unsympathetic hands. The orchestra threw itself into the music wholeheartedly, relishing every minute of the piece. The brass was resplendent, the strings full bodied. The percussion section really enjoyed itself and, indeed, timpanist Paul Tuner proved himself a real star, underpinning the whole edifice – a job he performed, with aplomb, all evening. This was magnificent music making and the performance cannot be praised too highly.

To follow we had Vaughan Williams’s Piano Concerto, a work seldom played and, for me at least, it is easy to understand why. It’s made up of two dull fast movements surrounding a beautiful and glowing slow movement. In the programme book John Pickard stated that, “The concerto’s considerable originality is ultimately built on its deliberate disassociation from the Romantic concerto tradition…[it] is essentially a re-imagining of the Baroque concerto grosso, in which the solo part was often integrated within the main body of instruments, with the focus periodically shifting between one and the other.” That’s all well and good, but even in the concerto grosso there is some give and take between solo and tutti. In this work there was a mass of sound in the first movement where the piano bashed out its part against a biggish accompaniment, being subsumed in the orchestral texture and seldom raising its voice above it. However, things improved when, after a short lyrical solo passage – surely not a cadenza – we moved effortlessly into one of VW’s most glorious slow movements, full of splendor and warm lyricism. Oh to have had much more of this but our reverie was shattered by what I can only describe as one of the most banal tunes I’ve ever heard worked out in an even more banal fugue, too academic and heavy footed to give real pleasure. This performance seemed to me to be leaden footed – the orchestra played well – the Phil seldom plays any other way – but without a spark of interest, this, perhaps, might be the composers’ fault. Ashley Wass did what he could with the solo part but it’s ungrateful and, ultimately, the whole work was without real passion or fire. Other composers who wrote in the concerto grosso style – Martinu and Hindemith to name two – managed some kind of action and reaction between soloist and orchestra, even Bach in the 4^th and 5^th Brandenburg Concertos has more interaction between tutti and solo than this piece. For me, the work is a non starter and good though it is to hear the side lights of the great composers sometimes one questions the necessity of the programming of some of it. As an encore Wass gave a beautiful, sustained, prelude by Messiaen, which was more sincere, finished and moving than anything we’d heard in the previous 30 minutes.

After the interval Sinaisky was on home territory – Rimsky’s wonderful, and ever fascinating, Scheherazade. With leader Yuri Torchinsky as the heroine, aided and abetted by the liquid harp of Clifford Lantaff, here was a performance which really displayed the lyrical tale of Sinbad and his ship, the off–beat wanderings of the Kalender Prince and his people, the love music of the Prince and the Princess and the colourful Festival of Baghdad in mesmerizing and vibrant tableaux. The first movement began in a most restrained manner but gradually grew in intensity as we embarked on Sinbad’s voyage. The Kalender Prince, with his violent fanfares and strange cadenza passages, emerged as a wild dervish dance, while the prince and the princess engaged in tender love making, to the delicate sounds of distant tambourines. The Festival at Baghdad was wild and fantastic, vendors shouting advertisements for their wares and engaging us in ribald exchanges across their stalls, then the catastrophe of Sinbad’s shipwreck and Scheherazade telling us we’ll have more tomorrow, and I believed her. This was a performance of great intelligence, power and understanding. Sinaisky obviously loves this music and he conveyed his vision to the orchestra and it played to the (Russian) manner born. Every section of the orchestra covered itself in glory – and special mention must be made of principal cellist Peter Dixon, who distinguished himself in his many solo passages.

Ten out of ten for such outstanding Elgar and Rimsky playing.

Bob Briggs


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