SEEN AND HEARD INTERNATIONAL

Other Links

Editorial Board

Google Site Search

Internet MusicWeb

Poulenc, Mahler: Joanne Boag (soprano), Orchestra and Chorus of Welsh National Opera, Alexander Polianichko, St. David’s Hall, Cardiff, 31.10.2008 (GPu)

Poulenc: Gloria
Mahler:  Symphony No. 5


This ‘halloween’ concert was certainly far more treat than trick. Both chorus and orchestra of the Welsh National Opera are consistently amongst its greatest strengths and – almost without exception in my experience – it is a pleasure to see and hear the two of them with orchestra elevated from pit to stage and the chorus in evening dress rather than in the costumes (of varying interest and attractiveness) which designers require them to wear in their productions.

The expanded orchestra heard in the major work here – Mahler’s Fifth Symphony – gave a generally very good account of itself’ It is certainly not overparted even when tackling works of such ambition and scale. Of the chorus one need only say that they maintained the very high standards one has come to expect when hearing them on the operatic stage.

Alexander Polianichko is one of those very accomplished conductors who seems not to have quite achieved ‘star’ status but who can generally be relied upon (more than some such international ‘stars’) to articulate performances that have assurance, a clear sense of purpose and good orchestral balance. All these virtues were evident in this largely convincing performance of the Mahler.

The mournful grandeur of the work’s opening worked very well, the interplay of brass and strings balanced with particular sensitivity (the solo trumpet work throughout was outstanding). Himself originally a violinist, Polianichko drew particularly lyrical playing from the violins, here and elsewhere, but not at the cost of any neglect of larger issues of form and balance. Indeed Polianichko’s sense of the movement’s shape, of the larger arc of its musical argument, was particularly impressive. In the A minor second movement (marked “Stürmisch bewegt, mit grösster Vehemenz”) we didn’t perhaps quite get the “greatest vehemence” that Mahler calls for; at times there was a sense of strain and of evident effort and there was less certainty in Polianichko’s transition between sections, the ‘gear-changes’ (of which this movement has several) were sometimes a little ragged. But there were also moments of radiant beauty. On the other hand, Part Two of the symphony, the lengthy Scherzo in D major, was an unqualified success. The spirit of the dance pervaded it all, even if, as the music requires, the rhythms were sometimes ironically disrupted. The opening of the movement convincingly breathed the air of the Austrian countryside (and we were reminded that much of the symphony was written at the cottage in the grounds of Mahler’s villa close to Maiernigg, on the bank of the Wörthersee, in the Corinthian Alps). The central trio section, on the other hand, danced with a rich endowment of Viennese sophistication, a model of grace and clarity, textures thoroughly transparent, for all the near-swooning of some of the string playing. Indeed, the work of the upper strings was a delight in the evocation of the ballroom. In this movement, as elsewhere in the work, the writing for the horns is subtle and central to the musical textures – the horns did it something like full justice in this performance. Polianichko’s control of the movement’s shape was impressive and he brought it to a rousing conclusion.

The reading of the Adagietto – at a moderate tempo which avoided the extremes of some performances – was thoroughly engaging. It had a quiet intensity, a persuasive intimacy that well communicated the wistful quality of the music. If this is to be seen as a kind of (love) song without words to Alma Mahler, then in this performance, at any rate, one sensed an undercurrent of fear – the fear of failure and loss – in the music’s expression of the composer’s feelings about this beautiful flirtatious younger woman (she was twenty years younger than Mahler). It is music of passionate elegance and this was a satisfying reading of it, which brought out some of its emotional ambiguities and complexities.

In the Rondo–Finale Polianichko’s judgement of dynamics was particularly astute, the movement’s sense of momentum tactfully established and controlled, and the echoes of musical materials first heard in the second and fourth movements clarified without excessive underlining. By the time that we reached the brass chorale at the end of the work, the effervescence of what had immediately preceded it had prepared us successfully for this triumphantly affirmative music. Polianichko and the orchestra had led us, with an emotional plausibility that went far beyond mere rhetoric, on a journey which combined both power and intimacy, from opening darkness to closing light.

This wasn’t one of the very greatest performances of the symphony one is ever likely to hear, but that was hardly the expectation which one might appropriately have brought to the concert. What it was, was an intelligently sensitive and, for the most part, purposively structured reading of a demanding and complex work. It made for a very rewarding musical experience.

The evening had opened with a performance of Poulenc’s Gloria, one of those late religious work which followed Poulenc’s 1936 pilgrimage to the Shrine of Our Lady at Rocamadour, overlooking the gorge of the River Alzou, north east of Cahors. It is a fine work, blending reverence (in terms both of faith and musical tradition) and a characteristically Poulencian mischief. Right from the beginning one had confidence in this performance, the tricky balance of voices and orchestral sections at the beginning of the opening ‘Gloria in excelsis Deo’ convincingly achieved, and with a pleasing sense of comfort and ease. The choral basses were especially impressive here, providing a firm grounding for the fanfare-like declamation of the text. In the ‘Laudamus Te’ (which initially scandalised some hearers), chorus, orchestra and conductor all seemed to revel in the rhythmic impetus of Poulenc’s writing, its affirmation of the possible coexistence of spirituality and playfulness, its pentatonic melodies and dancing rhythms thoroughly captivating. Equally successful was the tranquillity of the ‘Domine Deus, Rex Caelestis’ which succeeds it. Joanne Boag was an eloquent soprano soloist, singing with real purity at the top of her range and with some attractive fullness of tone lower down. Her voice is maturing rapidly and attractively and this was as convincing a performance as I have heard from her. There was an appropriately Debussy–like quality to some of the orchestral textures here. In the relatively brief fourth section, Polianichko’s direction unassumingly brought out the wit and inventiveness of the music, its sheer and vital joy. In the fifth section, ‘Domine Deus, Agnus Dei’, the orchestral introduction might perhaps have been a little darker and weightier; Boag was again impressive in her control of pitch, and if she didn’t quite achieve the rapt quality which the text and music invite she responded well (as she did throughout) to Polianichko’s very sympathetic conducting (his wealth of operatic experience was surely not irrelevant here). Soloist, Chorus and Orchestra were blended and balanced with exquisite judgement and finesse in the closing section (‘Qui sedes’), rounding off a lovely performance of a beautiful and moving work.

Glyn Pursglove


^{Back to Top                                                    Cumulative Index Page}