Joseph Phibbs: Rivers to the Sea
Mahler: Symphony no.2
Philharmonia Orchestra and Chorus
Kate Royal soprano
Monica Groop mezzo
Esa-Pekka Salonen conductor
There
can be few challenges for a composer more daunting than writing a
companion piece to a Mahler symphony. Fortunately Joseph Phibbs has
the measure of the task, and his new work, Rivers to the Sea,
neither competes with Mahler's Resurrection Symphony, nor is it
overwhelmed by the scale or impact of that monumental work.
The
piece was commissioned to celebrate the 18th
birthday of the Anvil concert hall in Basingstoke, where is received
its premiere last week. It is no doubt easier to make an impression
in that more intimate venue, but the work also has enough substance
to make a mark in the Festival Hall too.
But
the scale of the piece is deceptive. A large orchestra is kept busy
for the best part of half an hour, yet the musical material it
explores is slight. Phibbs takes a laudably disciplined approach to
his task, devising a selection of colourful but straightforward ideas
and allotting each a separate movement. The formal plan resembles a
symphony – four movements arranged around a central interlude –
but the actual music is anything but. There is little development
here, and Phibbs instead presents each movement as what he calls a
'musical snapshot', drawing on specific sonorities and colours, and
laying out each over the course of a four or five minute movement.
If
this relationship between colour and form suggests Debussy, that's
unlikely to be a coincidence. The mention of the sea in the work's
title demonstrates how, like Debussy, Phibbs uses the idea of
undulating waves as inspiration for his orchestral textures. The big
difference is the (English?) reserve with which Phibbs applies the
idea. Unlike Debussy, he always has his feet very securely on dry
land and never gets carried away in the moment. And that small group
of musical ideas, elaborated within clearly defined confines, creates
a sense of discipline in the music that Debussy would be unlikely to
recognise.
Other
voices are also heard in the background. The work is dedicated to
this evening's conductor, Esa-Pekka Salonen, and there are traces
here of Salonen's own music, particularly the minimalist pulsations
from the double basses and the maximalist presto runs in the upper
woodwind. A much stronger presence is Salonen's compatriot and hero
Sibelius. The horn writing throughout the work harks back to
Sibelius' symphonies, and Phibbs' reserved approach to his otherwise
Romantic aesthetic suggests the economical discourse of Sibelius'
late symphonies. There is also some Latin percussion in the mix,
although this seemed intended more for colouration than rhythmic
propulsion.
The
piece received as fine a performance as any young composer could ask
from the Philharmonia. There was little here to tax the orchestra,
apart perhaps from the more complex textures of the final movement.
Some great opportunities for the orchestra to show off its principle
players though, and honourable mentions go to the clarinet, harp,
tuba and xylophone soloists.
After
two years of Mahler celebrations there is a very real danger of
audience fatigue. That's never a problem for Salonen though. He knows
how to keep even the most familiar music fresh, and led a performance
of the Second Symphony that was an interpretation in every sense. The
conductor writes in the programme that he sees the symphony as a
journey from darkness to light, which was exactly how he presented
the work. The focal point was the first choral entry towards the end
of the finale. Everything up to this point seemed to build up to it,
with fast tempos, unrelenting pace and a real sense of structural
cohesion in the preceding movements. But once the choir had made
their entry, Salonen considered redemption to have been achieved, and
pulled back the tempos for an expansive but still intense conclusion.
His
is a convincing approach, but much is lost in the race to the
conclusion. In order to create that sense of structure and unity in
the first movement, Salonen maintained fast and rigid tempos
throughout. This had the frustrating effect of obscuring many of the
details. Also, he rarely lingers in the moments of quiet before each
of the many storms, over-riding the contrasts that Mahler sets up to
heighten the impact of his climaxes.
The
second movement made up for the lack of rubato in the first. Some
elegant playing here from the strings, a welcome respite from the
continuous intensity, which soon returned in the third. Excellent
singing from Monica Groop in Urlicht.
She was a late substitution, but gave an impressive performance,
although her tuning went a little awry in the last minute or two of
this fourth movement. Kate Royal was more operatic in her reading of
the soprano part, with lots of passion and lots of vibrato. It didn't
quite fit, although it may have done if she had been partnered by a
similarly florid mezzo. The Philharmonia Chorus seemed small, at
least for this work, but just about managed to dominate the orchestra
when required.
Good
playing from the orchestra in the Mahler. Salonen goes for emphatic
articulation, especially from the strings, and they were able to
provide exactly the punch he was looking for. It wasn't all ideal
though, there were occasional tuning problems in the woodwind, and
the off-stage brass had a pretty bad night of it. But on the whole
this an engaging and convincing Mahler performance, and yet another
reminder, if any were needed, that when Salonen is on the podium
nothing will ever sound routine.
This
concert was broadcast live on BBC Radio 3 and is availible to listen
on demand until 5 July at: http://www.bbc.co.uk/radio/player/b01jz43s
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