Perth Festival: Czech National Symphony Orchestra

Perth Concert Hall, 25/05/24

Czech National Symphony Orchestra, Steven Mercurio (conductor), Chloë Hanslip (violin)

The wonderfully warm acoustic of Perth Concert Hall hosted the Czech National Symphony Orchestra under the baton of their American Music Director, maestro Steven Mercurio, as part of their UK Tour and the Perth Festival, on the night of 25th May. The orchestra was joined by English violin virtuosa Chloë Hanslip for Bruch’s First Violin Concerto and concluded with Beethoven’s ebullient Symphony No.7. The basket-of-goodies programme opened with Smetana’s Overture to his opera ‘The Bartered Bride’ and the Beethoven was preceded after the interval by two of Dvořák’s second set of 8 Slavonic Dances Op.72, Nos.2 and 7. The concert was very well attended.

I’ve often commented on how special it is to hear Czech music performed by Czech musicians.  And so it was with the Smetana, though with the added visual element of Steven’s flamboyant balletic conducting style, a true pupil of Leonard Bernstein.  The playing was warm and engaging and, though I have heard the piece in crisper snappier renditions (from the likes of the Czech Phil and the Philadelphia Orchestra, admittedly top-flight world class bands), it was still thoroughly marvellous, the coda particularly thrilling.  A special mention for a lovely oboe solo from Radek Mattus. The Perth audience loved it.

In one of the loveliest openings to a violin concerto, Chloë Hanslip’s Amati inhabited the soul of the Bruch from the recitativo start, yet another performer clearly exploiting the hall’s responsive acoustic. There was a sense of committed multiple partnership in her performance: partnership with her instrument, with the acoustic of the venue, wonderfully with the musicians of the orchestra (she turned to face them for every moment of musical dialogue) and so magnificently and engagingly with the audience, drawing us into the experience.  Her playing was impassioned and expressive, with warm but controlled vibrato and flawless double stopping, especially in the mini-cadenza.  The transition to the slow movement, the romantic heart of the work, was smooth and elegant.  It was breathtakingly beautiful, the phrasing exquisite and supported with lovely responsive playing from the strings of the orchestra.  The pianissimo at the end was perfect, waxing and waning to the final sweet cadence.  The finale launched, a playful and vigorous dance.  The ‘Big Tune’, first on full orchestra, then passionately sul-G on the solo instrument, was as good as I’ve heard.  There was lots of warm responsive playing from cellos, horns and bassoons in the alto range, dancing with the violin.  The speeded-up coda was a thrill.  The applause said it all – the Perth Festival audience had taken Chloë Hanslip to their heart.  Her encore, the ‘Méditation from Thaïs’ by Massenet gave a chance to savour all the same elements that had made the performance of the concerto so special.  Excellent.

The two Slavonic Dances from the Op.72 set presented a satisfying contrast.  No.2 in E-minor is a lugubrious Mazurka full of nostalgic longing with a slightly less introspective central section which keeps getting dragged back into the minor key.  Full of Slavic soul and quite delicious.  No.7 in C major is a Serbian Kolo, rapid abandoned cavorting from start to finish.  An unashamed riotous romp, it had the crispness that the Smetana had lacked, and Perth Concert Hall whooping when Steven swung around to face the audience on the last chord with his arms in the air, as he had done at the end of the Smetana and was to do at the end of the Beethoven.  Perth loves a showman.  The orchestra were playing what was obviously ‘their’ music and were perfectly ‘in the zone’.

Lovely pace, elegant balance and a satisfying sense of architectural grandeur characterised the opening expansive introduction of the Beethoven.  The transition to the dotted rhythms of the movement proper was magical, whereupon the newfound crispness was again very much in evidence and supremely satisfying.  The not-very-slow slow movement had a sense of solemnity and gravitas, but also great depth of feeling and reminded me of the slow movement of the ‘Eroica’, something I’ve never noticed before.  The fugato section was absolutely superb.  It is easy to see why this movement had to be repeated twice at the first performance.  The Scherzo was thrillingly fast and rhythmic, the contrast with the slower Trio fully exploited.  The sound from the horns in the Trio was glorious as they played to the hall’s acoustic, equally elegant at lower volume when the Trio makes a second appearance.  The false start of its attempted third outing was characterfully dramatized, the emphatic five tutti chords seeming to shout, “that’s e-nough of that!”.  The bonkers finale, which I am told I used to bounce on my bottom to before I could walk, was driven and thrilling, and everything it should be.  Steven Mercurio eschewed the now common practice of launching the finale of the 7th without a break after the Scherzo, and I have to say I approve – it’s perfectly exciting enough without that gimmick.  At any rate, he scored another hit with the Festival audience.

He addressed the audience to introduce the quirky encore, quipping: “I thought of wearing a kilt for this concert, but I don’t have the legs for it.  Anyway, the front row is so close to the stage that, if I were to leap up and down (he does, a lot), it might be too revealing”.  The encore was a Bossa Nova, with a stylish trumpet solo (played by Jan Hasenohrl) and an amplified guitar (played by Lukas Chejn).  An undemanding light listen after a night of popular classics.  It really is a lovely orchestra and a great find for the Festival, with just one puzzling anachronism: just under 30% of the players are female.  That aside, they connected with the Perth audience and treated us to a great evening of music-making.  Best wishes for the continued success of their tour.