SCO, 06/02/2015

Fauré :  Pelléas et Mélisande - Suite
Ravel : Piano Concert in G major (Mitsuko Uchida, piano)
Boulez : Mémoriale
Haydn : Symphony No. 101 "The Clock"

Scottish Chamber Orchestra
Robin Ticciati

Originally, this concert was slated to begin with the Boulez, but having experienced all the pieces, it was a wise decision to swap positions with the Fauré.  I'm still not any fonder of the Pelléas et Mélisande Suite than I've ever been, but the lighter weave brought to it by a smaller orchestra makes the whole thing rather less stodgily portentous than usual, which is very welcome.  The whirling strings of "La Fileuse", the second movement, were particularly well handled.

Mitsuko Uchida brought not just her formidable technique and musicality to the Ravel concerto, she also brought all the force of her remarkable personality, and that lifted the whole proceedings onto another level.  In the first movement, when not playing, she would sit with her arms folded about herself, as if to contain the fierce energy which immediately became kinetic the moment her fingers touched the keyboard.  Piano and orchestra played tag, even in the slower passages, when the mood turns teasingly experimental, before dashing off into the tilt-a-whirl again.  The slow movement's long reverie unfolded in a gentle meditation, almost disappearing in on itself until the orchestra joined in to coax the melody out once more, while the last movement sputtered and sparked like a fistful of fire-crackers, sparkling and witty.  It wasn't note-perfect - but I've heard note-perfect, and it wasn't half as engrossing as this was.

The group of post-war composers broadly known as the Darmstadt School tends to leave me a bit cold in general, and if I'm going to pick one or two to actually listen to, it's not likely to be Boulez, but rather Stockhausen or Berio.  However, one of my problems with this sort of music is that a good deal of it tends to be (in my opinion) obnoxiously noisy.  This was absolutely not the case with Mémoriale, a short chamber piece for flute solo, six strings and two horns, of arachnean delicacy and fluttering textures, which created an interesting transition from the snappy, jazzy world of the Ravel to the sly humour and sharp contrasts of the Haydn.

The "Clock" symphony is one of the most-performed of all Haydn's 106 symphonies, and for good reason.  It is endlessly inventive and entertaining, bright and engaging, quirky and surprising.  For dance-lovers, it has an extra dimension, as three of its four movements are the musical basis for choreographer Jirí Kylián's delightfully tongue-in-cheek Symphony in D.  This performance would never have done for the ballet; Robin Ticciati was driving his players along at quite a clip, even in the slow movement which gives the symphony its nickname, but it worked most effectively in the concert hall, though I thought the pause in the second movement was a touch overlong.  A glittering conclusion to a very fine concert overall.

[Next : 14th February]