RSNO: Beethoven 9
Usher Hall - 03/06/22
The final concert of the RSNO Season 2021/2022 confirmed the status of Scotland’s national orchestra as world class, and with their Music Director Thomas Søndergård at the helm it was heart-warming to hear the cheers and bravos ring out from a reasonably full and mixed-age audience. It has been a privilege to be able to come to many Friday evening concerts in the Usher Hall, and to hear great music played live and with such verve. I look forward to next season’s programme in great anticipation, and will be writing a preview for EMR, with my three tips for concerts specially to look out for. Speaking of programmes, it was splendid to see the return of printed ones for this concert, but ‘null points’ to the Usher Hall for having the auditorium lights so dim that one could not read the programme. There is no point printing the words of the ‘Ode to Joy’ if you can’t see them!
The concert began with Finlay MacDonald, Director of Piping at the National Piping Centre, playing, in front of the organ, a piece written by Stuart Liddell to mark the Platinum Jubilee of the Queen, ‘Diu Regnare’ (Long to Reign). This sounded splendid in the big acoustic of the Usher Hall and was a stirring start to the evening.
Since Beethoven’s music formed the main item on the programme, it was apt that the RSNO played an overture by the great composer, from his ballet ‘The Creatures of Prometheus’ (1801). The myth of the Titan, Prometheus, defying the Gods to create mankind, appealed to the 30-year old composer. He set lofty ideals for himself, and this myth, with its profoundly humanist spirit, fitted in with his views about how he could transform music and mankind with his work. Compared to the great works of his maturity, this overture is a light and frothy bonbon, but none the worse for that, and its mercurial nature, full of rushing strings and punchy brass, was magnificently brought out by the RSNO and their chief conductor.
The orchestra has been commissioning new pieces throughout the season, and the final work in the first half was perhaps the most ambitious of these. ‘Our Gilded Veins’, by the talented young Scottish composer, Jay Capperauld, is in the form of a Flute Concerto, and was written for the RSNO’s principal flute, Katherine Bryan. In last year’s digital season, I was much taken by the opportunity to watch the orchestra’s principal players in a close-up way that is denied us by normal concert practice. Sitting as I do in the stalls, I normally can’t see anything of the players except the first violins and violas, and so the chance to watch the woodwind, the brass and the back desks in general was a special privilege. Katherine Bryan stood out with the deep expressiveness of her playing. As a vocal soloist myself, I am always fascinated to see how orchestral musicians work within the context of a symphony orchestra. All for one and one for all, or individual expression combining to form a whole? I think also the need to have social distancing last year perhaps allowed the musicians more physical room than normal. Whatever the reason, I was struck by how many of the section leaders were physically expressive in their playing, and Katherine Bryan was a veritable beacon of artistic grace and emotion.
When it was revealed that Katherine had injured her leg last week, and was in plaster, a shudder went through the audience, followed by a cheer when it was announced that she would still be playing. The RSNO management must have thought that Fate was against it. Having lost Nicola Benedetti to illness last week, necessitating a change of programme and soloist, the news about Ms Bryan must have come as a shock. Anyway, all was well, and she came onstage, fully booted, to a great round of applause!
I had been underwhelmed a few weeks ago by another work of Mr Capperauld, his ‘Féin Aíthne’, and my heart sank when reading his programme notes this time. He mentions a deep interest in psychology and confesses that he might have followed a career in psychology had his musical career failed. There was quite a lot about music having its “own independent consciousness”. I hate to call this psycho-babble, but I would really prefer to read less and listen more.
The good news is that this is a terrific piece by a supremely talented young composer, and my worries evaporated as the concerto proceeded, played with consummate skill and full commitment by Katherine Bryan. The concept of the piece, and here the descriptive analysis was helpful, is based on the ancient Japanese art of Kintsugi, the mending of broken objects, not only to repair them but to highlight their previous damage in a positive way. If a plate is broken, it is not thrown away but glued together with gilded lacquer to celebrate the break, as part of the object’s history. As with a broken plate, so also with a damaged person. We need to celebrate and nurture the broken object/person, and not discard it. I think this is a very useful metaphor, and Mr Capperauld attempts to recreate the metaphor by piecing broken bits of music back to harmonic sense. I wasn’t fully convinced, but he has written a piece which is manifestly modern, yet rooted in harmony, and there are some passages of very beautiful music. The interplay between the flute and the full orchestra is very well-achieved, and I felt the writing for the flute, although obviously extremely difficult, stayed well within the boundaries of technical possibility. The programme notes had gone on at some length without at any time mentioning the flute, but I am happy to report that the actual piece, ‘Our Gilded Veins’, is a very welcome addition to the repertoire of the solo flute, and that its first performer, Katherine Bryan, who has been the RSNO’s principal flute since 2003, scored a special triumph last night. We wish her well for a speedy recovery from her injury.
After the interval, we were treated to a thrilling performance of Beethoven’s magisterial Ninth Symphony, complete with solo quartet and the massed ranks of the RSNO Chorus. It is astonishing to think that this symphony was first heard in Vienna in 1824, and that last week’s miraculous ‘Symphonie Fantastique’ was premiered in Paris only six years later. Both works are truly extraordinary, and Beethoven’s vision was revelatory. He wrote a symphony lasting well over an hour, with a final movement so revolutionary that his contemporaries must have thought his deafness had turned to madness. That he was by 1824 profoundly deaf is part of the miracle, although the vocal writing does bear witness to his unreal expectations of his singers.
There is however, a lot of symphony to get through before the voices appear, and Søndergård and the RSNO played it to the hilt. From the mysterious opening through the long journey of the first movement, to the ebullient drama of the second into the serene beauty of the slow movement, with its martial interruptions, this performance unfolded as the composer must have imagined it. All the solo instruments were on their mettle, and it would be invidious to single anyone out. The entrance of the vocal soloists was well-contrived, and the chorus, all sitting neatly, hands in front, looked splendid.
The vocal quartet was decently balanced, although I felt a little more vocal maturity could have benefited the general sound. Beethoven made few allowances for his singers, especially the sopranos, both choral and solo, who have to sing some of the most demanding lines ever written. I was very impressed by the Scottish soprano, Eleanor Dennis, who I had not heard before, and who more than coped with the fiendish writing. In fact, she gave a fine account of the soprano part, and I look forward to hearing her more. The mezzo has a thankless task, with no show-off bits. Indeed, when I was still singing full time, we used to describe the mezzo part as “Take the Money and Run”, so little chance has she to shine. I can report however, that the Scottish mezzo, Stephanie Maitland, did punch above her weight, and I could hear the quality of her voice shining through. The tenor, Benjamin Hulett, has a pleasing tone, and made the most of his martial tune, “Froh …. und freudig, wie ein Held zum Siegen”. The bass, Božidar Smiljanić, seemed a little under-powered and tight at the top, but relaxed into his part nicely. It’s a daunting first phrase!
It was particularly good to see an all British quartet, with two Scots. This is how it should be, and I hope the RSNO will continue to give work to local singers.
The RSNO chorus was well-trained and sang expertly from memory, managing somehow to get through Beethoven’s almost impossible writing. The only trouble with singing from memory is that they all had to sing with their hands by their sides, which is both uncomfortable to do and unnatural to look at. Gregory Batsleer had trained them meticulously, and the sound was splendid, but at least singing with the score would allow you to move a bit, and singing is not a rigid exercise at all. Swings and roundabouts maybe, but worth a thought?
As the work raced to its exciting end, I was able to reflect on a very fine season of concerts, and to look forward to next season with great anticipation. Beethoven’s and Schiller’s visions of a world of brotherly love and harmony is still vitally important, and if we can spread a little love over all the warring countries of the world with this message, who is to say that it cannot be achieved at last!
