SCO Wind Soloists: A Summer Serenade

Dollar Academy, Clackmannanshire: 28/6/24

SCO Wind Soloists

The three-performance tour of the Scottish Chamber Orchestra’s Wind Soloists’ ‘Summer Serenade’ programme concluded on the night of 28th June in the auditorium of Dollar Academy, Clackmannanshire, not far from my home (though, as I had been covering forenoon and afternoon events in the East Neuk Festival earlier that day, that proximity was irrelevant to anything but the journey home afterwards). The programme was genially introduced by SCO principal clarinettist, Maximiliano Martin, who quipped that the best thing about the tour of a chamber wind ensemble was getting to play without a conductor and make the music they want, the way they want it, in an atmosphere of the relaxed dialogue of friends.  Attendance in the well-lit venue, with comfortable well-tiered seating, was more than satisfactory.

The programme opened with Ruth Gipps’ 1958 piece ‘Seascape’, written for the all-women Portia Wind Ensemble that she had founded 5 years previously, she herself being a fine oboist.  It is scored for the full dectet, two each of flutes, oboes (one doubling cor anglais), clarinets, bassoons and horns. The sound world is strongly suggestive of that of Vaughan Williams, with whom the composer had studied.  Fluid rippling arpeggiation on flutes and clarinets opens the piece and a plaintive oboe solo (Robin Williams) made me think of seabirds.  An arabesque solo for cor anglais (Katherine Bryer) reappeared in the piece on bassoon (sub-principal Alison Green) and on flute (Andrê Cebrián) and lent the piece a rhapsodic mood.  A lovely horn solo (Anna Drysdale) with a jaunty accompaniment set the festive mood for the central section of the piece and all joined the party. The wavy opening returned for the closing pages and a big finish.  A lovely tuneful atmospheric piece played with a sense of joy, a great concert opener.

French composer Jean Françaix, of whose wit and good humour I never tire, sustained the mood in the next piece, his 1933 4-movement Quatuor for flute, oboe, clarinet and bassoon. The opening Allegro alternated a slightly jazzy melody in the style of a ribald street song with a somewhat inebriated waltz and was an absolute hoot. The Andante, an impressionistic reverie, featured lovely melodic lines for bassoon and oboe. The Allegro molto, in the style of a scherzo with trio, more irreverent syncopated festive street singing in triple time for the scherzo, a cheeky clarinet-and-bassoon conversation leading to a jazzy cakewalk for the trio before the scherzo was reprised. The Allegro vivo finale launched like a perpetuum mobile street scene of Parisian traffic, before a slow calm interlude recalled the ‘Laudate Dominum’ at the end of Stravinsky’s Symphony of Psalms, composed three years earlier. A throwaway fast phrase concluded the piece irreverently.  Super.

Back to the full dectet for Andrê Caplet’s 1901 3-movement ‘Suite Persane’.  A strong Middle-Eastern flavour pervades the music, probably inspired, as many French composers were, by the oriental exhibits at the 1900 Paris Exposition Universelle.  The first movement, titled ‘Scharki’ (‘sharqi’ is the Arabic word for ‘easterner’, from which the English word ‘Saracen’ is derived) refers to the hot humid wind that blows in the Arabian Gulf in early summer and early winter. A spare unison exotic Persian melody on flutes and clarinets becomes enriched by impressionistic harmonies.  Prefiguring Maurice Jarre’s music for ‘Lawrence of Arabia’ by no less than 6 decades, it sounded quite filmic and was certainly evocative. The second movement, ‘Nihavend’, a reference to a scale found in Persian music, started with flutes and clarinet in fixed intervals, before a gentle rhythm is set up and a rhapsodic melody (which to my ear was not unlike Bizet) unfolded a rhythmic depiction of a happy scene.  Back to the opening figures for a short coda. The final movement, ‘Iskia Samaïsi’ started with swirling arabesques and sounded as if it was going to be an exotic dance movement. However, the central section was more in the character of a lovesong introduced by solo horn.  A sense of epic story-telling reminded me of Rimsky-Korsakov’s Scheherazade.  Andrê Cebrián’s piccolo had some elegantly ornamented figures to present. Full marks to the SCO Winds for giving this neglected piece an outing, and a persuasive one at that with topflight chamber playing.

First up after the interval was the last piece written by multi-talented former co-principal cello of the SCO, Kevin McCrae, before his death in 2005 following a tragic accident. The ‘Trio’ for flute, clarinet and bassoon, as bassoonist Alison Green explained in her introductory remarks, was written as a piece for the SCO’s education outreach programme to showcase these instruments in school visits. The 5 witty character pieces, played without a break, draw on elements of Scottish traditional music and jazz. A breezy ‘Introduction’ is followed by a ‘Scherzo’, a bassoon romp with elements of strathspey and cakewalk. The ‘Air’ for flute (Marta Gómez) begins as a Gaelic air over sighing from the other two, but before long departs on a flight of fancy with rapid arpeggiation and a jazzy version of the air. After a pause, the flute recovers its composure and illusion of best behaviour, returning to the Gaelic air. The ‘March and Reel’ is the clarinet’s turn in the spotlight (William Stafford), alternating between the two metres with the traditional melodies never free of jazzy syncopation.  A concluding ‘Coda’ reprises the bustle of the ‘Introduction’ with a final flourish.  A thoroughly enjoyable piece presented with flair and not a little mischief.

The final work on the programme was the 1898 ‘Serenade’ Op.40 by Arthur Homer Bird, an American composer who studied in Germany (with Franz Liszt, no less) and eventually settled there. The first of the four movements opens with a cheerfully tripping 6/8 oboe melody, giving way to a more Brahmsian second subject. The influence of darker Brahms is evident in the development, but there are elements of Mendelssohnian grace too, and the lighter mood of the opening is restored before the genial coda. The Adagio slow movement opens with a melancholy cor anglais solo. As the texture broadens, flowing triplet figures on flutes and clarinets and a less pensive version of the melody on oboe lighten the mood for the central section, but it does get drawn back to the opening mood by the cor anglais, before the less pensive coda ends the movement at peace. The influence of Tchaikovsky’s ballet music is evident in the waltz-like scherzo. Its trio is more relaxed, with instruments in pairs seeming to dance with each other. The movement ends with a cute coda. My ear could not identify at first whether the finale opened with 6/8 or common-time triplets, but the sprightly scampering melody was delightful either way. It had beefed up considerably by the time the development section arrived, richly contrapuntal with hints of Schumann, but cheekier. Another delightful coda elicited cheers and applause from the Dollar audience. Once again, massive kudos to the SCO Winds for bringing this neglected music into the light of day.