John Corigliano’s Symphony No. 
          2 for string orchestra (2000, and here receiving its UK premiere) provided 
          an interesting first half to this concert. Corigliano’s music is still 
          not accorded the recognition in the UK it enjoys in the US, and Slatkin 
          is to be congratulated on his advocacy. 
        
        The Second Symphony is actually 
          an expansion of Corigliano’s String Quartet of 1996, written for the 
          farewell tour of the Cleveland Quartet. In one sense, therefore, it 
          sidesteps the ‘problem’ of Corigliano the symphonist (he once stated 
          that he would ‘never write a symphony’, only the AIDS pandemic prompting 
          him to use the large canvas in his Symphony No. 1). The Second Symphony’s 
          forty-odd minutes duration marks it out as a substantive statement. 
          It maintains the interest over this span and shows an active imagination 
          at work.
        
        All credit to the BBCSO, then, 
          who obviously prepared this carefully (the level of accuracy in the 
          second movement Scherzo was astonishing). The opening Prelude begins 
          in the manner of so many contemporary compositions: fragments emerge 
          in and out of silence. Corigliano, however, when he reaches an arrival 
          point, makes it a consonant one, which in the present instance came 
          across as contrived rather than moving. 
        
        There was a beautiful sense of 
          peace in the Nocturne (intended to invoke the serenity of a Moroccan 
          night), which led to a tortured climax. Coriglaino’s use of Lutoslawski-like 
          controlled aleatorism (and, with it, Lutoslawski-like scurrying strings) 
          in the Fugue was interesting but not wholly involving. Better that, 
          though, than the saccharine sweetness of the Postlude. 
        
        Vadim Repin was the superb soloist 
          in Glazunov’s Violin Concerto, Op. 82 (1904). This is a work that was 
          championed by Heifetz, no less, who made the work shine. So did Repin, 
          a player who sees no technical difficulties in the piece whatsoever. 
          The cadenza was marvellously sustained. Right from the sonorous opening 
          melody, though, it was obvious that we were in the presence of a master, 
          entirely at home with Glazunov’s easy lyricism, but similarly possessed 
          of a tensile strength that gave the performance a gripping underlying 
          inner intensity. Lyrical outpourings were unashamedly presented, while 
          fun became the paramount parameter in the sparkly finale. This was a 
          remarkable performance of a work that deserves more frequent airing. 
          
        
        In many ways it was the highlight 
          of the concert. That it did not entirely eclipse Prokofiev’s Seventh 
          Symphony (slightly less well attended – all the violinists in the audience 
          left en masse after the Glazunov) was testament to the dedication 
          of the BBCSO and Slatkin. They emphasised the Romantic side of the Moderato 
          first movement, the strings playing with a powerful legato, and it was 
          this Romantic side which surfaced again in the finale. A few minor disturbances 
          in the inner movements aside (the second not quite abandoned enough; 
          the third with some scrappy wind playing), this was an impressive achievement 
          which crowned a varied and stimulating concert.
        
        Colin Clarke