SCO Summer Classics

Callander Kirk, 6/7/24

Scottish Chamber Orchestra, Maxim Emelyanychev (conductor), Philip Higham (cello)

The four-performance tour of the Scottish Chamber Orchestra’s ‘Summer Classics’ programme concluded on the night of 6th July in the Kirk of the Trossachs town of Callander.  Beethoven’s Seventh Symphony, with which the orchestra had closed this year’s East Neuk Festival just under a week previously, was reprised after the interval. The programme opened with Elgar’s Serenade for Strings, which was followed by Schumann’s Cello Concerto with the orchestra’s Principal Cellist Philip Higham as soloist.  His ‘desk partner’ and Sub-Principal, the effervescent and multi-talented Su-a Lee, introduced the programme of “favourites”, Elgar’s self-declared favourite of his own works, her own favourite cello concerto performed by her desk-mate under her favourite conductor, and Maxim’s favourite Beethoven symphony.  She also extolled the Summer Tour itself, an opportunity to bring performers and audience closer together in intimate venues across Scotland.  I wholeheartedly agree.  With the musicians ranged across and in front of the altar space and the audience in the pews, I recalled the enthusiastic picturesque words of an amateur cellist friend or my father’s: “close enough to smell the rosin on the bows”.

Elgar’s early Serenade set the tone for an evening of engaging musicality, with a rich ensemble sound and sensitive string playing that was as characterful as it was flawless.  The Allegro piacevole struck the perfect blend of whimsy and nostalgia of a young Elgar who had found his musical voice but not yet fame.  The Larghetto, with its barely restrained passion undisguised by a veneer of melancholy stoicism (how very Elgarian!), was surpassingly lovely.  The Allegretto finale, with its drifting back and forth between the major and minor key before a return to the skipping viola rhythm of the first movement and a quiet, peaceful resolution, was masterfully delivered.  I have a confession to make.  Those words were copied almost verbatim from a review of the same piece at the same venue in a concert by the SCO String Soloists (sans conductor) two years ago.  Other than the expressive phrasing and ebb-and-flow of melody being even more immediate and engaging under Maxim’s direction, the description perfectly fits second time round.  In terms of the vivid quality of the playing, it was still chamber music, through and through.

A special warmth and chamber musicality always attends the (thankfully numerous) occasions when a principal from the SCO plays a concerto with their friends.  The Schumann was the first romantic cello concerto and it is remarkably innovative.  The writing is very concertante with the soloist as protagonist and the orchestra as pretty forthright antagonist, but the dynamic balance is never threatened.  The three movements are played without a break (but with ingeniously constructed bridge passages) and the themes are related and not restricted to one movement.  The solo part is full of impassioned cantabile lyricism, sometimes supported by the orchestra, often challenged and even interrupted, especially in the stormy development of the first movement.  The slow movement, where Philip Higham and Su-a Lee play a love duet over guitar-like pizzicato accompaniment (though Su-a Lee pointed out that, as Philip’s part is double-stopped, it is really a trio) was absolutely delicious and unforgettable (especially when the violas joined in too). The finale, a resolute march-like dance, starts emphatic and stern, but through some ingenious counterpoint in the development and a brief partially accompanied cadenza, the mood lightens and the pace accelerates to the cheerful coda.  Philip Higham’s playing was stunningly virtuosic and expressive with fabulous tone from start to finish; the orchestra, as ever, clearly relishing the opportunity to support their friend in characterful music-making.  Great reception from the Stirlingshire audience, as Higham and Emelyanychev, and then Higham and Su-a Lee, embraced.  There was an encore, a beautiful arrangement for solo cello and muted string sextet (two each of violins, violas and cellos) of ‘Abendlied’ (Evening Song), the last of Schumann’s 12 Klavierstücke für kleine und große Kinder, Op. 85.  Exquisite.

As is always the practice with the SCO, Philip Higham was back in the front desk of the cellos for the Beethoven.  The performance brought everything that had wowed the Bowhouse audience six days previously, with the added thrill and immediacy of being so close to the action.  Freshness, clarity and crispness of tone, daring rubato, vivid rhythms, dramatic pauses, vibrant crescendos, ebb and flow of phrasing, dynamic contrasts and bold sforzandi were everything they had been in the East Neuk, delivering a heightened full-fat Beethoven experience.  The period horns and trumpets and the baby timpani brought an extra dimension of vibrant authenticity to the experience.  Readers of my review of the Bowhouse performance will be waiting to hear the ’but’: what about the finale?  Sadly, perhaps a trifle less blatantly, but nonetheless undeniably, the tempo fluctuated.  I would not deny the existence of an expressive rationale for doing so, merely assert that the case was not made. To me, the finale (whatever about ‘apotheosis’), is relentlessly driven by an allegory of demonic possession by an irresistible dynamic rhythmic pulse. The playing was phenomenal and, in the context of being so spatially close to (and involved in) the ensemble, utterly compelling, but the interpretation stole something from the impact, at least for this reviewer.  I had a fantastic time at this concert and it will remain memorable for all the right reasons, but I am left asking the question “but why?”.  Pity, but there it is.