Wagner, Grieg and Brahms: Sigurd Slåtterbrekk (piano), London Philharmonic Orchestra, Stamatia Karampini Royal Festival Hall, London, 2.5.2008 (BBr)

Richard Wagner: Prelude and Liebestod (Tristan und Isolde) (1857/1859)
Edvard Grieg: Piano Concerto in A minor, op.16 (1868)
Johannes Brahms: Symphony No.3 in F, op.90 (1883)


Stamatia Karampini’s biography, in the programme book, quotes a review by Altamusic, following her Paris début, where she performed Shostakovich’s 5^th Symphony, “…with an astonishing level of intensity and structure (sic), exhibiting a profound knowledge of the work with a passion previously demonstrated by conductors of the calibre of Mravinsky, Kondrashin, Ančerl, Sanderling, Bernstein, and, more recently, Haitink. From start to finish, she remained in complete control of the orchestra, wielding the baton with extraordinary precision. A phenomenal interpretation.”

That’s a lot to live up to, and I wonder exactly how wise it is for her to have this shining encomium attached to her name so early in her career – she’s only 28 years old - and just starting to make her way. I wish that I could report similar things for this concert but, in all truth, I cannot for, quite simply, Karampini didn’t really show “an astonishing level of intensity and (grasp of the music’s) structure”, nor did I perceive “a profound knowledge of the work(s)”, and I am not going to compare her with conductors whose work I never experienced in the flesh.

As to her being in “complete control of the orchestra”, I sensed a boredom from a poorly led orchestra, and rather than her “wielding the baton with extraordinary precision”, she is a conductor for whom the orchestra plays behind the beat and there was a very bizarre moment in the first movement of the Brahms Symphony where, at a climactic silence, she simply stopped beating and allowed the orchestra to catch up with her before she started again, giving no instruction as to the attack which followed the silence. Full praise must go to the London Philharmonic for keeping this concert on track.

But let me tell you how things went. For a conductor to undertake a concert of real popular classics, such as these, they must bring with them some special insight into the music; because the orchestra has played these works umpteen times under so many different conductors that that certain “something” is essential.

The Prelude and Liebestod (surely the most peculiar bleeding chunk ever made from different parts of an opera) went quite well, but the build up to the almost orgasmic climax of the latter part seemed too fast, the moment of release coming too soon. There was some beautiful woodwind playing and the voicing of the famous Tristan chord was gorgeous.

Grieg’s Concerto is so well known that it needs no introduction, and therein lies its only fault. It seems to be an easy option, but it does need firm hands in charge as the composer’s grip on form isn’t strong – Grieg was a rhapsodic composer, not one fully comfortable with classical forms, unlike Brahms. Neither soloist nor conductor seemed to grasp the fact that this work is loose in construction and needs to be tightly held together so as not to lose sight of Grieg’s goals. The slow movement went well, beautiful horn and cello work here, but the finale, which goes all over the place, with changing moods and temperament, was poor  though I must praise flautist Cormac Henry for his most sublime playing of the second subject. Quite simply, the problem was that the music failed to elevate, to take off in romantic flights of fancy  as it should: it was too firmly rooted on the ground, and it was safe. Too safe.  Slåtterbrekk redeemed himself, to some extent, with a delicious encore but he’d lost me long before that.

After the interval came Brahms’s 3^rd Symphony, the Cinderella amongst his four symphonic works. It’s a much stronger work than many give it credit for – the quiet ending has always made it seem for some, to be a smaller creation than its bedfellows. Nothing could be further from the truth. Elgar realised this – it was his favourite Symphony – and he modelled his 2^nd on it.

Here, Karampini was much more at home. The first and third movements went really well, with a pretty good grasp of the progression of the music – the first movement exposition wasn’t repeated which was a real loss – and very intelligently chosen tempi. The slow second movement was, for me, ever so slightly too fast, thus losing some of its poetry, but again the wind band came into its own and played superbly. The finale was rushed; the striding second theme was garbled, thus losing its majesty as the cellos frantically tried to get round the notes at the set tempo. The wind down to the quiet coda, and reminiscence of the opening theme, was perfunctory.

There were a couple of problems of balance, perhaps Karampini didn’t heed Richard Strauß’s words and she smiled too encouragingly at the brass, and  as I’ve heard in this hall before, the piano was far too dominant at the expense of the orchestra.

I am not going to compare this live concert to recordings, or conductors whose live work is unknown to me, but I am going to mention Vladimir Jurowski’s fabulous concert of a week earlier with the same orchestra. Here was a conductor who was totally in charge of his forces and galvanised them into something great. This concert needed that kind of leadership. It actually  needed Marin Alsop.

Bob Briggs


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