RSNO: Sibelius Violin Concerto

Glasgow Royal Concert Hall - 04/11/23

Thomas Søndergård, conductor | Ray Chen, violin

The Royal Scottish National Orchestra’s 2023-24 season continued with three performances of a popular programme, featuring the Sibelius Violin Concerto and Dvořák’s Symphony No.6, under the baton of its Music Director, Thomas Søndergård.  Following performances in Aberdeen and Edinburgh, the third concert, back in the orchestra’s home turf of the Glasgow Royal Concert Hall, took place on the evening of 4th November, well-attended by an enthusiastic Glasgow audience. Charismatic Australian violinist Ray Chen was the soloist in the Sibelius. The concert opened with the Scottish premiere of Finnish composer Lotta Wennäkoski’s 2019 ‘Om fotspär och ljus’ (Of Footprints and Light).

The Wennäkoski piece, a commission from the Helsinki Philharmonic as part of the ‘Helsinki Variations’ series, was required to derive its inspiration from a pre-1945 Finnish composition.  Lotta chose the ‘Lullaby’ from the unfinished opera ‘Asiens ljus’ (Light of Asia) by Ida Moberg, a biography of the Buddha. The resulting music has something of the character of a symphonic poem, suggestive of a dreamscape.  A mysterious atmospheric opening evoked, for me at least, a surreal woodland scene at dusk, with bird calls and the tapping of a woodpecker.  Melodic elements, suggestive of a lullaby, first on winds, then particularly deliciously on strings, drift in and out of our consciousness.  A number of dreamlike episodes ensue, some of them scarily suggestive of a pursuit, one particularly memorable one with brass prominent and rapid figuration on tuned percussion. The piece ends diminuendo with spooky glissandi on the high strings.  It’s a super piece and received a compelling reading from Søndergård and the orchestra on top form.

Like so much of Sibelius’ music, his Violin Concerto combines a rugged directness and masculinity with more tender romantic elements, in music whose technical demands (even in the revised version that is always played) reflect his own unrealised aspirations for what he knew ought to be possible with his own instrument.  From the opening bars, it was clear that Ray Chen was going to bring a directness and a freshness to the realisation, and that the partnership with conductor and orchestra was assured.  His tone was rich and carried through the auditorium, whatever the orchestral dynamic. Though not everybody’s cup of tea, the attack at the beginning of phrases was vital and compelling and, to my ear, authentically Sibelian. I am not a fan of players who try to ‘sandpaper’ the rough edges off Sibelius.  He was fabulously agile in the fiendishly difficult runs, passionate in the romantic passages and maximally expressive throughout.  My favourite part of the first movement, where a brief delicious dialogue with principal viola (Tom Dunn on top form) led to a slowing arpeggiated major key climb to the high register, turning on a sixpence to a chromatic minor key descent on the solo instrument and a brief anxious quasi-cadenza launching an Allegro molto rustic dance, was magically thrilling and raised a few goosebumps.  The cadenza proper, at the start of the development, was introspective Sibelius at its best.  We get to hear my favourite passage again in the modified recapitulation, but the rustic dance becomes the thrilling coda.  The slow movement was achingly beautiful, with lovely sul-G playing and cantabile phrasing that sounded as if it was being breathed.  Plaudits to the basses of the RSNO for the characterful driving of the rhythm of the troubled central section of the movement in the minor key.  The mischievously demonic, rhythmic dance finale launched with a sense of playful abandon, which was sustained through to the drunken coda.  Glasgow audiences love a great communicator and the GRCH had clearly taken Ray Chen to their heart: the applause was rapturous.  And rewarded.  Holding the audience in the palm of his hand, he thanked them and introduced Paganini’s Caprice No.21 in A major, a double-stopping amorous duet leading to a forbiddingly challenging Presto with fiendishly difficult ‘up-bow staccato’.  He confided that it has taken him ages to master the technique, but now that he has perfected his own way of tackling it, he performs it everywhere as an ‘act of revenge’.  It was pretty phenomenal and the audience reprised their appreciative applause, whoops and cheers.

Not all Dvořák’s Symphonies enjoy the same popularity.  The last three, numbered 7 through 9, are perennial favourites and are regularly performed, with the Brahmsian No. 7 appearing to have been particularly favoured in recent years, it being a rare season that denies it an outing.  The first three are rarely, if ever, heard live – I’ve certainly never seen them programmed.  I have been attending symphony concerts for 55 years and, of the middle three symphonies, I can honestly say I have heard Nos. 4 and 5 live more often than No. 6.  Why is it such a ‘poor relation’?  I am mystified, because it’s gorgeous, full of lovely Slavic melodies and with a thrilling Furiant scherzo.  Søndergård and the RSNO left us in no doubt that they agree with this assessment, in a performance that was suffused with optimism, charm and freshness.  An unhurried tempo allowed the phrasing of the first movement to lilt and breathe and the sunny mood to shine.  The spooky sotto voce start to the development was particularly delicious. The pastoral slow movement, dreamy and rhapsodic, featured some exquisite horn playing from Guest Principal Andrew Littlemore and some fine colourful ensemble playing in the troubled minor key episode in the middle of the movement.  The quirky hemiolic scherzo was playfully rhythmic, while its slower major key trio section featured lovely lilting conversational playing with exquisite piccolo comments. The sotto voce conspiratorial opening to the finale was suggestively Brahmsian, before the Czech character asserted itself in the melodic material that was unmistakably Dvořák.  The gleeful fugato that started on strings launched the triumphant coda, a thrilling end to a thrilling concert.

The RSNO are at the top of their game and I am looking forward to reviewing their concerts through November while my colleague Brian Bannatyne-Scott is on holiday.

Donal Hurley

Donal Hurley is an Irish-born retired teacher of Maths and Physics, based in Clackmannanshire. His lifelong passions are languages and music. He plays violin and cello, composes and sings bass in Clackmannanshire Choral Society, of which he is the Publicity Officer.

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