Scottish Chamber Orchestra: Maxim’s ‘Firebird’

Usher Hall - 14/05/22

“Music begins where words end,” said Jean Sibelius.  Adrian Bornet, Sub-Principal double bass, retiring after a long career with the SCO quoted this in his short speech at the post-show reception.   Adrian’s musicianship might be reason enough for the bass section to command the Usher Hall tonight, as they stand centre stage, part-way up the organ gallery for all three works in the SCO’s final concert of the season.  Maxim Emelyanychev’s fondness for changing the normal orchestra placings is a feature of his conducting.  Fine as the section look in their elevated position, there must be a musical reason.  One suggestion: the Beethoven, the Prokofiev and the Stravinsky feature lyrical themes by the basses as well as their percussive qualities. 

There are over fifty musicians, and a fair number of them are on-stage (and off) for Beethoven’s ‘Leonore’ overture no.3, one of the four overtures he wrote for ‘Fidelio’.   It was possibly Beethoven’s favourite, but it was thought to pre-figure the narrative too closely – not only Florestan’s captivity but his escape are represented in the music.  Abandoned in favour of the shorter ‘Fidelio’ overture, it has continued to be played in concerts ever since.  There’s a slow quiet opening (something all tonight’s pieces have in common) as the orchestra explores the prison depths, with low strings.  Then a snatch of Florestan’s Act II aria is played by the woodwind from which a flute solo emerges.  A brisker cheerful tune begins, accelerates and gets louder, becoming a whirlwind – of revolutionary fervour, perhaps.  Brass and timpani ring out.  Maxim Emelyanychev encourages his players to a characteristic energetic and edgy performance.  The orchestra seem as ever to enjoy the challenge.  The off-stage trumpet sounds twice, heralding Florestan’s safety.  The whirlwind, more securely triumphant, returns.   It is wonderful how the SCO reinvigorates music that many in the audience are so familiar with. 

The soloist in Prokofiev’s Violin Concerto No 1 is Alina Abragimova, a young musician who is already established in a fine international career.  She’s a relaxed presence onstage, despite the technical challenges of the work, and seems sympathetic to the twenty-three year old composer’s ambitions for his music.  There are three movements, the first and third (mostly) slower paced, and the second faster. As each movement has a small break in the middle with a change of mood and tempo, there seem to be six short dazzling displays of Abragimova’s and the orchestra’s virtuosity.  Technical skill often involves fast or obviously flashy playing, and there’s much of that in the concerto, but there’s also a fascinating slow section in which the violinist plays slowly on very high strings accompanied by the flute, an eerie sound not unlike the glass harmonica. The second movement features the violin playing against snare drum and tambourine before the full orchestra picks up the pace and volume.  Abragimova plays almost throughout the full work, she and the conductor working well as a team.  It’s a performance which is greeted with well-deserved enthusiasm by the audience.  I hadn’t heard the concerto before, and found it easy to admire, but difficult to like!  Prokofiev, the programme notes, having waited a number of years for the first performance, said there were some things he would have changed. 

After the interval, we have the 1945 suite that Stravinsky made of his ballet music for the ‘Firebird’.  During the interval, a knowledgeable young man behind me explained to his companion that the impresario Diaghilev was probably the most important non-musician to influence 20th century music.  (I wonder if there’s a 21st century equivalent – some of the corporate sponsors having blotted their copybooks recently.)  He certainly transformed Stravinsky’s career, not wholly altruistically as Diaghilev retained the copyright on the complete ballet music.  This version of the suite was cannily produced by the composer to keep the proceeds of the US market for himself. (This and other background information on the SCO’s music this season is available online in David Kettle’s excellent programme notes) 

It's a slow ominous opening on double basses, but soon the music sparkles with vibrating strings, bird-calls from the winds, a harp, celeste, piano and other percussion providing the fairy-tale magic.  A quiet orchestral interlude almost lulls us until we see the percussionists standing ready for business and we’re launched into the fireworks of the Infernal Dance.  It’s as breathtakingly rip-roaring as anyone could wish, and shortly afterwards the finale, slow to start with the hymn tune, builds up throughout the orchestra to a shattering conclusion.  In the last few moments with the triangle ringing out above the massed orchestra it’s lovely to see so many smiles on the faces of the musicians.  Music and loud applause – what need for any more words? 

I’ll use a few more words, however to thank the SCO and the Edinburgh Music Review for the opportunity to enjoy and write about so many of their concerts this season. From Maxim’s incredible all-standing gut-string band, through Jay Capperauld’s eerie premiere ‘Death in a Nutshell’, featuring beer-bottle percussion, being shaken in loops by John Adams and stirred by the Messianic return of the SCO chorus (Hallelujah!) it’s been an exciting year in the concert hall.  The SCO’s 2022-2023 season will be announced shortly.  Check the website for details! 

Kate Calder

Kate was introduced to classical music by her father at SNO Concerts in Kirkcaldy.  She’s an opera fan, plays the piano, and is a member of a community choir, which rehearses and has concerts in the Usher Hall.

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RSNO: Sibelius Five