SCO: Prokofiev and Brahms
City Halls, Glasgow: 6/12/24
Scottish Chamber Orchestra; Maxim Emelyanychev (conductor); Aylen Pritchin (violin)
The first of two outings of a “basket of goodies” programme presented by the Scottish Chamber Orchestra under their Principal Conductor Maxim Emelyanychev was on Friday 6th December in Glasgow’s City Halls. Prokofiev’s gracious homage to Haydn, his Symphony No.1 nicknamed ‘Classical’, opened the concert. Mature Prokofiev (quite lyrical with some subtle hints of the spikiness of his more challenging works) followed, in the form of the Second Violin Concerto, with Russian violinist Aylen Pritchin as soloist. Brahms’ sunny (if enigmatic) Second Symphony closed the programme. Unusually, and recalling for me the first concert of the BBCSSO’s 2022-23 season, the 4 double basses were (and I quote) “ranged high up at the back of the stage facing forward, lending them a presence that was both visually and aurally impressive throughout the evening. I hope that this innovation is permanent because I am most definitely a fan”. The amazing Martin Funda was guest leader. As usual, Maxim Emelyanychev conducted sans podium, the resulting freedom of movement cementing the SCO’s customary air of equal partnership and chamber musicianship. Before a note was played, the visuals and the popular programme promised an evening of excellent music-making. The promise was honoured.
The first movement of the ‘Classical’ was crisp and light, with a limpid texture in which all the details were clear, the repartee between winds and strings particularly delightful. Though the pulse of the Larghetto is that of a slow balletic sarabande, it is so elegantly ornamented that it never feels like a slow movement and it oozed whimsical charm. The brief ‘Gavotta’, no less balletic and with more than a wink to Tchaikovsky, was exquisite, with the loveliest ornamentation from the oboes in the central ‘trio’ and a sleepy flute and sozzled bassoon in the slower reprise. The scampering cross-country chase of the Molto vivace finale delivered fabulously virtuosic playing from the wind principals, especially André Cebrián’s flute. Superb.
Although I missed Aylen Pritchin’s performance of the Brahms concerto with the SCO last year, I did catch him with Maxim on the piano and SCO string principals in an all-Brahms matinee chamber programme in The Queen’s Hall at the end of February 2023, so was aware of the artistic rapport that exists between Mr Pritchin and the orchestra. Though glad of the opportunity to hear either, it is the second of Prokofiev’s two concerti that is my favourite of the two. The soloist’s pensive, melancholy 5/4 opening theme received a cantabile statement, echoed ominously in a different key by the strings, prompting a scurrying anxious dance as a second theme punctuated by taps on the bass drum. The third theme, achingly romantic like many in the Romeo and Juliet ballet, was scrumptious. The movement proceeded, fusing these three disparate elements in different combinations, in an interpretation that emphasised the nervous unsettled mood of the piece, a reading I consider optimal. A lovely weary sigh from the horns heralded the unresolved pizzicato conclusion. A leisurely choice of tempo for the Andante assai allowed its rhapsodic picture-painting quality the fullest expression. I always imagine a ballerina automaton pirouetting atop a music box, becoming animated, detaching and experiencing bittersweet human emotions and disappointments, before returning to her pivot as the clockwork winds down, as if the magic were but a vanishing dream. Side drum, bass drum and castanets aid the gutsy Spanish rhythm of the triple-time dance that launches the finale, with colourful episodes that seem more Slavic and untamed. It is more taps on the bass drum that lock in the five-bar phrase obsession that is the demonic coda. Fabulous playing from soloist and orchestra in perfect partnership. Full marks from me.
On a night when Storm Darragh raged outside, Brahms’ sunniest symphony shone in the City Halls. Notwithstanding the Second being the least deserving of the ‘muddily over-scored’ criticism often (and unjustly, in my opinion) levelled against the symphonies, Maxim Emelyanychev awarded it the same open texture and flawless dynamic balance that had been characteristic of his reading of Prokofiev’s ‘Classical’ and the result was fully expressive romantic Brahms but with every detail displayed with crystal clarity. Not to suggest that contrasts were in any way suppressed – on the contrary, the light and shade (for there are dark moments too, like the ominous timpani roll and trombone chorale brief bridge passage after the sunny first theme) were both enhanced. The cellos were gloriously warm and radiant in the second theme. I have written before of the pleasure of ‘losing myself in the ingeniously-wrought development sections of Brahms’ sonata-form movements.’ In the Second Symphony, and especially in the first two movements, Brahms builds and builds the dramatic tension in a series of cascading climaxes, so when it is finally released, there is a heart-easing sense of ‘homecoming’ to a modified and ornamented recapitulation. I could not ask for a better framing of Brahms’ symphonic structure than we received in Glasgow. The cellos starred again in the yearning melody at the beginning of the slow movement. George Strivens’ solo horn answered by the winds sang of an aching longing. After the stormy central section, the idyllic return to bucolic calm and repose was like being embraced. Heavenly. More lovely oboe playing brought us the gracious waltz-like third movement, with its two faster, cheekier interludes based on the same material, the first polka-like, the second more rambunctious and syncopated, returning to the waltz and an innocent cadence. An expectant hush started the finale, before it threw caution to the winds in celebratory abandon. Lovely sul-G wallowing from the violins in the luxuriant second theme sustained the mood. A series of departures, some mysterious, others striving, sought to claw back to the ebullience of the opening. When it came, the radiant joy was captivating, the final fanfares of the coda irrepressibly triumphant. Not everybody looks to Brahms for their dose of magic, but if you do, the SCO under Emelyanychev knows exactly how to deliver it. Enough to carry me safely home through the wild Darragh night, at any rate. Perfect.