BBC - Chipping Campden Festival. Paul Lewis recital - on theme of darkness to light - St. James' Church. Gloucestershire, England. 20.5.2010.

Paul Lewis opened this program he gave at St James Church in Chipping Campden, (Gloucestershire), also festival founded by him - with the Adagio in B Minor, K. 540, a both particularly unusual (partly in choice of key) and somber piece from Mozart. The concept in the mind of Paul Lewis in so unusually opening his program - recital he has also given in the U.S., Australia, and Canada carried with it a darkness-to-light motif - to quote him in interview - on most subtle, aesthetically achieved terms.

The Adagio in B Minor was written apparently very close chronologically to the D Major Piano Concerto, that beneath its cheerful exterior, not unusual for quite all of Mozart’s late-period work, betrays an anxiety, fatigue never so encountered before in his concerti. One has the irony elsewhere, such as in the three ‘Prussian’ or late quartets, of Mozart's music flooded by the sunniest of mood throughout - even some infusion of jocularity such as these works exhibit. This Adagio hones on in on a most deeply inner world - the reality of Mozart’s situation at the time. Paul Lewis wisely found fine combination of simplicity and quiet despondency in this encounter - with his direct manner for sighing octave consequents to lied-like start to this piece.

With descending line for inverted second theme, following openly singing closing theme to the Exposition, Lewis, to start the Development, subtly evoked the left hand written out harmonic spelling. Repeated affirmation of descending line in coda, which makes way toward only achieving half-resolution (even while on tonic triad of B Major) was purposefully shaped, soon after mildly affecting surprise with expanding line toward end of Recapitulation into brief right hand arpeggio Neapolitan chord (C Major) triplets - hinting at Schumann to come. Sense of fullness in achieving everything made quite affecting this piece's relative irresolution.

What 'explosion of passion' there was to open the Schmann Fantasy in C, Opus 17, entered both flowingly and incrementally – all supplemented by subtle pedaling. Such luminous frame and interior bespoke a fine turbulence to be developed well within. A little risk of clipping anticipation of contrasting idea in minor mode hardly held up freely developing argument to follow. Singing line, subtly doubled in left hand, spun forth, but in the supertonic (D Minor), brief development to follow worked out pensively to calm resolution in F Major - toward hearing development spinning forth from the opening theme as fully achieved. Well articulated start to Development made way into restating opening to the first movement with sense of arrival complete.

Early (and mildly clipped before) anticipated theme in minor mode emerged fully sung out with fine sense of striving through both it and its getting developed – freely including brief episode of scherzo-like line of off-beat broken triplets in right hand; all found sufficient rest in very evenly paced simple plaintive conclusion in the right hand. Paul Lewis's making eloquent a sung duet between hands in E-Flat made final re-achieving of C Major with first theme on purpose seem mildly inconclusive. Shimmering treble chords carried ardently contrastingly reassuring repeated refrain to reach out toward on purpose perhaps not fully attained ideal of peaceful resolution to the first movement.

Lewis produced noble, masculine profile to big chords to open the march – opening mezzo-forte dynamic astutely observed. Dotted rhythm lines to follow, often so heavily, jerkily played had current of well sustained line and animation to internally run through them. Agitation ascending toward grand reprise of opening statement happened in subtle gradations while maintaining fine voicing through it all. Trio section, led by romantically singing lower right hand, flowed forward, with most supple inclusion therein of alternating lower voices and quiet echoing above. Contrast between ardor and caprice in willfully playful development of ideas had both spin, feed off each other freely, allas suffused by in light tone of introspection. Lewis - following much playing as remindful of Solomon as of Brendel - strongly profiled the dotted rhythm, ascending line to truly heroically conceived march reprise. Final chord to coda Lewis allowed after release to briefly resonate, following lightly pointed parody preceding it.

The slow finale opened with deeply cushioning resonance and luminosity, with duet sung out between hands through interlocking harmonic shifts to intimate at and synthesize recall or hint of harmonic transitions from the opening movement. Gentle push to the music's own picking up of pace through sustaining further spelling, voicing out of harmonic development, freed overall line up for genuine development of harmonically rich material at hand - all risk avoided of making smother-halla out of this. Right hand descending line, more searchingly than before, fully intimated deeply achieved reverie at hand - coming off affirmation to conclude first half of this wordless song.

Slightly impulsive push forward off second affirmation to help bring all to a close was as to simply report goal satisfyingly achieved, after much subtly revolving inquest into deep recesses of the soul, freely intimated interacting voices within fully reckoned. It is rare for recent performance of the Schumann Fantasy to satisfy one so well. Assisting here was both the quality of both instrument Lewis was playing and St James acoustics; most fulfilling was Paul Lewis's unaffected feel for form and romantic poetry to fill all out.

Veritable tone poem, the celebrated Vallee d'Obermann (Anness de Pelerinege I), opened the second half. Paul Lewis opted for the more standard revised version of the piece; given the quality of the playing here, he could have made interesting enough case for the more predictably organized, even pedantic original version. There was never getting too overcome by vastness of scale or of brilliance of the writing - display of Lisztian virtuosity here not the point. The richly colored descending line, limning deep sense of grief, of perceived loss Paul Lewis shaped in spacious and deeply felt manner, through numerous subtle changes of harmony - even affecting visual perspective.

C Major reprise of main theme in place of second theme – where conventional relative major reprise of main theme emerged before - had beautiful halo riding aloft – anticipating several vistas through which to traverse in Beethoven to follow – plus as though to hear idea as close cousin to prominently dreamy descending line in Schumann finale right before. Sense of much churning underneath craggy boulders, cliffs across one’s path was encountered next – momentary sense of peril also ubiquitous. One did not hear mere display of broken, rolling octaves instead. Lewis's tone remained warm and rich through lied-like maggiore reprise of the leading theme, through glowingly depicted bright horizon to operatically enunciated refrain (coda), right past fleeting reminder of brooding that had opened, filled out the body of this Byronic inspiration.

Fully achieved light emerged with the Sonata, Opus 53, of Beethoven. Lewis played entire cycle of the Beethoven thirty-two several years ago. He showed much promise in his command of playing, interpreting the sonatas, yet also was exposed numerous places where his grasp of certain passages was still tentative - even moments where he opted for artifice to attempt covering up lapses still lingering about.

Not to worry here. One would be hard pressed to find even nearly halfway recent interpretation of the 'Waldstein' more definitive than achieved here. Retuning today to his still fine 2006 HM recording - out of complete cycle - it was the playing at this festival - highly likely for other stops during same world-wide tour with same program that had the greater fluidity, imagination, more definitive shape. His opening up of much space in the intermezzo between the two big movements framing the sonata was as such to transport one to another world, including his deft but firm limning of harmonic changes to make transition into the final rondo - so undercut by others for spinning forth early figuration too hurriedly. His vocalized style phrasing of the opening to the intermezzo and call-from-afar phrasing of the same upon its reprise was most unaffected, just real.

Subtle differentiated pedaling between how first mysteriously opening staccato thirds in the first movement emerged – then with them getting more dryly articulated later, was highly imaginative – right-hand replies subtly varied as well. Lewis’s proportioning of transitions between themes - and then vastly conceived, yet precisely articulated canvas for first half of the Development - was at once classically adept - subtle allargando freely, beautifully sculpted in. Spinning forth of elaborate retransition off what had preceded became volcanic – with how fully, organically prepared everything was.

Paul Lewis eschewed bejeweling the second theme of the first movement; avoidance as such holds back excessive, too soon anticipation of arrival and also makes more nobly hieratic its expression as well - such insight for which we return to Solomon's Beethoven recordings. The simplicity of avoiding at all cost framing or enveloping such a passage - first time it shows up unusually in the major mediant - was simplicity personified. Room Lewis allowed as well for sobering, brief simple hint of regret for turn to the minor at end of the Exposition and thunderous roar for moments of stark dissonance, as for instance several seconds into the coda.

Bravura flair for the third movement rondo, pardoning very brief sign of fatigue, was complete - given so much that Paul Lewis effectively delivered here. It hardly detracted at all, even momentarily. Light scintillated through opening statement of the rondo, as though to open out through panoply of clouds, much but not all of this through subtle pedaling again - not to mention the gorgeous pedaling of slow descent of octaves off craggy-engaged rocky A Minor interlude. Furious rustle through C minor middle section Lewis made linger right near the surface, wisely so, instead of conventionally above - with ring resounding through right hand octaves guiding music away from this uprising preceding them.

Intimated continuing first theme development through following retransition was most telling, opening to the Recapitulation, furious bravura to follow restrained; restatement for coda was both airy and full of song - with sense persisting through simple interior sculpting of sidebar into minor mode - of darkness not having yet dissipated. Ear captivating illusion of vocally achieved glissandi framed much opening out into trill anticipated simply achieved flourish to close all out.

BBC Proms 2010: Proms 69 and 71. Royal Scottish Nat'l Orch, Stephane Deneve. Paul Lewis. Orch Nat'l de France. Daniele Gatti.

Prom 69. Royal Scottish National Orchestra. Stephane Deneve. Paul Lewis. Royal Albert Hall, London. September 6, 2010.

This was Stephane Deneve's third visit to the Proms, but my second encounter thereof, each time with his orchestra for past five years - the Royal Scottish National. He opened this new program with music of Hector Berlioz. Whereas his stance with 'Roman Carnival' was less reduced to so much hectoring and empty bombast as was his portentous and pretentious 'fantastique' of five years back, it still hardly betrayed there being somebody French on the podium conducting it. The 'fantastique' could only remind one of Solti's stiff Teutonic, dull rendition for Decca with Chicago some thirty-five years back. 'Roman Carnival' Overture here hung together better as one piece. but romanza introduced on English Horn beared down on a bit much and bacchanale to follow lacked more than adequate incisiveness, animation from within (as opposed to just on the surface - bacchanale joined by chorus within opera Benevenuto Cellini itself).

The best orchestral playing of the evening came with the three interludes from opera 'The Sacrifice' by James MacMillan - played like this music is likely in these musicians' blood. The story apparently deals with initially forbidden love between rival or warring clans with violent consequences - that forwards itself within action therein to involve a succeeding generation. The modal characteristics of the melodic shapes and harmonies well portray here the pagan roots of a culture on display. Refreshing for this fifteen minutes worth of orchestral writing in the opera (two outer interludes perhaps collated of two interludes a piece from the opera itself), is the greater simplicity in especially organization this presents for the music of MacMillan. Minimalism, much over-scoring in its usage has made itself a considerable crutch for MacMillan, often hampering before what mastery of orchestration he obviously possesses. His Third Symphony, 'The Silence', midway through its thirty-five minute length makes one hanker for just that exactly - silence. With what few lapses these interludes contain – i.e. the settling for conventional writing to close a mostly imaginatively engaging Passcaglia at center thereof – they make up a staple incapable of prematurely wearing out its welcome.

Pizzicato opening, light marking of theme on downbeats, sounds modeled along example of Anton Webern - development thereof positively Britten-esque instead. One place directly reminds of the middle section of 'Storm' from Peter Grimes - as though it might have been lifted from it and altered just somewhat - practically same scoring for winds and light percussion and equally gigue resembling rhythmic pattern. Much varied instrumentation during first three-fourths of the Passcaglia’s variations rescues this music from sounding excessively derivative too soon.

The brooding quality of the opening interlude 'The Parting, with brilliant flourish highlighting measured tread and chorale (mostly in brass) far below is highly evocative - as this music makes steady progress through remotely related sonorities. A toccata like impulsivity gets the final interlude, 'The Investiture' under way, with accenting in one episode thereof that also holds its own very well – offset by plaintive cry in the winds, as derived from the earlier interludes. Brass triads skipping about by mostly perfect fifths set against toccata motion in the strings animate how this movement opens. Jagged line against steady ostinato later into it left hint of 'Rite' or of same composer’s Symphony in Three Movements.

Central on this program was Paul Lewis's crowning performance of the Fifth to complete cycle of the five piano concerti of Beethoven - equally a success for him as the four previous. The more obviously majestic, or if you will, hieratic aspects of this music interested Lewis less than how they seemed to engage Deneve. My impression perhaps still influenced by studio recordings, my recollection of Lewis's mentor Alfred Brendel playing the 'Emperor' as being somewhat literal, matter-of-fact (a little more so than on the earlier concerti) has remained perhaps a little too much so of a scaled-down 'Emperor.' The intellectual rigor Geoffrey Norris (Daily Telegraph) has found in Paul Lewis’s playing neither got yielded to or intimidated by an element of fantasy and caprice with which Lewis was frequently at the ready to engage the ear. Lewis's sustaining of line through much varied figuration and flourish and most of all through this music's sense of simplicity to overarching cantilena, lyric line was very convincing. By into the rondo finale to this, the admiring Stephane Deneve, in striving for some of what Lewis was achieving, provided extra lift and dimension, even rollicking vigor to its main theme, albeit that Royal Scottish strings sounded slightly ragged in its more elaborate spelling out to open the rondo's closing section.

Deneve's support for Lewis was never less than efficient, but not quite his equal in capturing the imagination Lewis brought to his playing - in especially building a character of subtly, sometimes not so subtly shifting temperament as solo part in this indicates. The enharmonic spellings through shifting harmonies definitely captured Lewis's ear, even if Lewis and Deneve together sounded a bit enigmatic at what mild shifts of tempo transpired - but with what harmonic ear and imagination at work at the keyboard (and warm .contribution from Royal Scottish horns) It took Lewis's entrance in the intermezzo second movement to breathe much life into it; his varied color and ever commanding sense of caprice animated the repetition of the rondo theme across a thoroughly encompassed harmonic kaleidoscope very effectively. Woodwind principals of the RSNO also interacted very expressively with Lewis in their lyricism - in subtly building harmonic and dramatic tension for the Development of the first movement. With Deneve hardly ever below par, even above it on occasion to match Lewis very well, this proved for a concert experience a still at times very effective rendition of the Beethoven 'Emperor' Concerto. No soloist do I recall more singular at such a comprehensive task as this cycle at the Proms than Paul Lewis. An unqualified triumph, no doubt.

Prommers last year got treated to a highly successful Italian (and for after interval, Roman) themed program by the BBC Philharmonic led by Gianandrea Noseda - 'Pines' also closing it that came very close to making for itself apt comparison with the examples of Toscanini and Muti. Comparatively speaking, the Villa Borghese proms, with lighter sonorities of the RSNO efficiently sounding forth, gave like the Berlioz earlier on this program more of a surface impression than could make for itself also such comparison. Sonorities were appropriately dark for the 'catacombs' pines, but a little want of pulsation to be achieved with more than just adequate depth was also slightly noticeable here. The Juniculum pines - highlighted by bell-like clear, very lyrical principal clarinet solo - Deneve took very broadly, but in taking such risk tension here was sustained and fortunately did not falter.

The Via Appia pines, leading to blazing sound from the RSNO at full throttle for conclusion to this ‘Pines’, started off with same lack as did the 'catacombs' almost eight minutes earlier. This was due to plan more according to vertical assessment of its sonorities than to line coursing up the Via Appia. So much was indicated by making arched crescendo – to emerge from flaccid backdrop to brass first making entrance with the full march theme to it. Attention to all transpiring from the hall seemed rapt; there is little doubt how much Respighi's scoring for 'Pines of Rome' makes it the showstopper it is, even in what transpired here as a merely adequate (though for particular strands through it, expressive) take on it. Such coolness in taking on 'Pines' and the preceding MacMillan perhaps finally at last bespoke some Gallic temperament in play here.

Prom 71. Orchestre National de France. Daniele Gatti. Royal Albert Hall, London. September 7, 2010.

This marked first visit to the Proms by Orchestre National de France (ONF) under their new leadership, that of Italian maestro Daniele Gatti. A conventional mostly Gallic program got arranged for the occasion. Word got out quite fast about a miscue during Procession of the Stage from Part One of ‘Rite of Spring’ – cutting off lower brass for measure or two, leaving remaining brass, other members of the ONF high and dry. Had one listened very carefully – lest Royal Albert acoustics be drier than I imagined – also missing was nearly a beat and a half of tremolo in the violins connecting abrupt stop to the commotion of ‘Danse sacrale’ to fleet upward run rapidly preparing final collapse – perhaps more than Gatti could handle to fit his beat pattern to Rite’s final measures.

‘Rite of Spring’ received a conservative interpretation, tame by any standards – should especially one be hearing this music afresh. High principal bassoon very adeptly, lightly led off fine consort of ONF woodwinds to start things off, yet attention to pulsation underneath much growing activity appeared listless. Placement of high pitched solo clarinet for his fanfare cry sounded indecisive. ‘Augurs of Spring’, with its pounding rhythms, Gatti took at seemingly collegially achieved breezy pace. Increasingly shaky ensemble held back impact of how the stomping dance concludes.. Concertato of winds again lost secure ensemble advancing through ‘Ritual of Abduction’ even with Gatti keeping current to course through it subdued.

Calibration of contrasting antiphony of chords with high descant in the winds for ‘Spring Rounds’ was weak, pulsation to emanate thereof – with rhythm stiffly secure for brief coda to it. Other than for the primitivism of pounding offbeat timpani intact, ‘Jeux des cites rivales’ came across relatively urbane. Anticipation of procession to follow openly revealed weak spots in ensemble, rhythmic organization ahead of time – and the Dance of the Earth picked up an insipidly, casually jazzy feel, – but without sufficiently secure ensemble to match name, prestige of the ONF.

Concertati of especially winds and strings, proved the stature of this ensemble, for the fine textures and sonorities they achieved to introduce Part Two. Into Cercles mysterieux, Gatti contented himself with airbrushing away some definition of its obviously gentler steps. Gatti gave accelerando into ‘Glorification d’elue’ insipid lift, esprit, as though all that should follow should be light. Loose sway to its rhythms were just so to keep expenditure of vitality efficient – only threatening to be reprise of the hoochie-koochie as can be learned from example of both Karajan and Maazel (with New York at Proms two years ago and more so on Telarc). It would have been especially unbecoming, irritating for a French orchestra to pick up on such as well – but hardly anymore inconceivable. Gatti was only partially successful at compensating for overall lack of savagery by letting bass drum have at his part. Things failed to reassemble poise until ‘Action rituelle’ – organized well but its more ferocious accents softened.

Tentative start to ‘Danse sacrale’ presaged prudent assessment of how to start and continue its main section – voicing of loud segue into reprise thereof that clumsily bordered on resembling exercise at sight-reading Brahms. Place for timpani to let rip, as assisted by brass became hardly better guesswork at keeping it together than Maazel attempting it two years ago. Not quite as unsatisfactory ‘Rite’ as afflicted the Proms for three out of the past five, but hardly better than one cut above - not in same class at all with that of the young Ilan Volkov with his BBC Scottish last year.

The Debussy on the first half still fared less well – embarrassingly so at times. Flute principal for opening to ‘apres-midi d’un faune’ provided good, though lightly vibrato laced tone, yet flaccid shape to it all. Gatti then made heaving out of gently swaying reach in full section of violins to anticipate third reprise of the opening solo (accompanied by harp) – as such to then spin off into fine arabesque, but all still rendered shapeless here. Debussy’s prudent marking of ‘Sans trainer (‘not dragging’) went completely by the wayside to effect that a next marking of ‘Cedez un peu’ for hardly much animation gained in-between seemed hardly possible to make anything yield anymore than it had already – without reminding one of one Debussy compact disc I keep around – by aging Celibidache with the Munich PO of Iberia and La Mer (EMI) – that for reason of being unintentionally so risible I would not trade it in for any other. Debussy could not have instead written in any of it any similar tempo shift – albeit for negation to include right in front of it, had he heard this. All this should anticipate relaxed central reverie to follow, but here rendered at general sameness of tempo and with no distinctive shape.

Pace for the remainder of ‘Afternoon of a Faun’ remained steady, yet with excess of love bestowed upon recurring reprise of the tone poem’s opening, making it altogether cloy. Whatever parody or send-up on Impressionism Rene Magritte may have concocted, Gatti made it sensible for Magritte to have been so mischievous. Anyone who might have made such an ‘apres-midi one’s point of reference and already listened to it ten times certainly would have found even the veritably fine rendition by Metzmacher in Berlin seem altogether two-dimensional by comparison. Making something so hazy, gauzy, so oddly impressionistic of Afternoon of a Faun as happened here indeed even more offset any relevant sense of perspective whatsoever. It was such that could have been piped in over street art or fire sale with cheap water colors predominant.- of which vendor might have trouble ridding himself.

‘La Mer’ fared little better. The only issue I had with Jun Markl’s ‘La Mer’ from last summer’s Proms, so deft in touch in being what turned out even philosophically evocative, was with a little thinness in his Lyon strings. His interpretation along with Volkov’s ‘Sacre’ from last summer now has one wanting to invoke either man for strong consideration of what position might open next most favorable for conducting this repertoire before long. As for thinness of string textures, what was one to make of barely audible at all string tremoli at moment of stillness midway through ‘Jeux des ‘vagues’ here (pentatonic spelling over C Major chord far beneath)? Light, deftly achieved play with the waves otherwise made ‘Jeux des vagues’ the most successful of four Debussy movements before the interval, but Gatti’s timidly improvisatory take on the opening of the movement came close to approaching being a Berio-esque handling of its varying strands. ONF strings then uncharacteristically made quite a shouting contest – over brass hardly ever louder than mezzo-forte – just amongst their section, in achieving sufficiently loud climax toward concluding ‘Jeux des vagues.’. Gatti then to pointless extent perfumed the inevitable reprise of harp glissandi.

‘De l’aube a midi’ opened with deep resonance, but with little pulsation to guide motion through it – toward having one hope that it might all be over at a quarter of rather than almost half past instead. Enveloping slight pauses for each strand of activity distracted from hope of building up any overall flow to anything got rendered amorphous, so whispered to be practically inaudible. Supple shape was achieved of opening main idea but solo flute spinning off of arabesque sagged toward altogether losing then all shape. Antiphony of descending tremoli in divided violins got played so softly as to be difficult to make adequate differentiation within it all. Gatti then heavily leaned on muted trumpet line to hold fast ensemble through animated stretto to finishthe finale’s opening episode.

Shanty for middle section sounded so besotted, phlegmatic as to render sensation of all about thick. Should one read BP’s press releases, even more incredulously believe them, one might reckon just a handful of Milk of Magnesia bottles to squiggle about the Gulf might suffice to clean up the mess – or at least keep ‘dem boys at sea regular – ill with gas pains from bad odor all about. (Could Paris’s fashion design and publicity firm magnates, owners perhaps also be Republicans?). Experience of having lived near shoreline across which water has often looked pale shade of vinaigrette – as off Seawall in Galveston – could perhaps make one plenty cynical. Generically universal similar assessment perhaps has been this ‘La Mer.’ Debussy’s marking of Presque lent to anticipate ‘Tres lent’ opening of coda to follow began to all seem an utter impossibility, lest we be in aging Celi territory once more. And so what appeared instead an embalming at sea – to endure perhaps a little longer than half past – travailed on.

Garden variety clipping of eruptions from lower strings to open La Mer hardly meant the detachment Debussy may have had in mind, more than from anybody else cheaply doing so. Much immediately following got heavily compartmentalized. Similarly to moments toward end of the first movement, Debussy’s notable marking of ‘Plus calme’ - for tranquil, expansive refrain to open second half of the finale - became a real impossibility. Connection between lines, following heavily gilded cry in high trumpet to taper off much agitation arising right before, through preceding episode, all got lost for so much nuance layered on. Equal level of massage got applied to lines in the high woodwinds to sing refrain mentioned right above. Hardly indicative of any grasp of form either were the concluding more agitated episodes – trio of sputtering clipped muted trumpets, for so much pointing of them, threatening to derail much else. Effort on final reaches started from lower strings sounded so hard to practically make self-parody of it – and with, for all the effort, ensemble just barely together for a rowdy conclusion to it all.

Edward Seclerson’s assessment of Gatti as restoring to ‘Rite’ its capacity to shock by, hardly more than rare occasion to have missed entrances should have any of us wanting to phone EMS on his behalf should he ever be found coming near the composer’s own 1940 New York PO or one of the better Igor Markevitch renditions. A general shrug of ‘much ado about nothing’ then to anyone who found Gatti’s choice of encore deflating – perhaps his pitch to the green hill toward picking up next big assignment there – Act Three prelude to Die Meistersinger. After a much reckoned slow, but overall just inoffensively dull Parsifal two summers ago, the noble profile Gatti found - delivered well by especially ONF strings and brass – for this brief excerpt’s eloquent lines made for sensible conclusion to an evening of lifeless reading to repertoire with which this celebrated ensemble has been associated for many years.

BBC Proms 2010: Proms 24 and 27. BBC Scottish SO, Donald Runnicles. Karen Cargill. Halle Orchestra, Mark Elder. Paul Lewis.

Prom 24. BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra, Donald Runnicles. Karen Cargill. Edinburgh Festival Chorus. Royal Scottish National Orchestra Junior Chorus. Royal Albert Hall. August 4, 2010.

This resulted in second Mahler collaboration by Sir Donald Runnicles and the BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra for the BBC Proms, the first one of which, Mahler’s Lied von der Erde, also featuring Karen Cargill, anticipated Runnicles assuming helm this past regular season as their new chief conductor.

As first one of these I heard, this interpretation of the Third, in its overall profiling of form, was reliable, but in finding the character of this music within such, tentative. The first movement, paced well, but with self-conscious thrust on occasion to keep all moving - for fear of instead dragging things - made inchoate slush out of some of its fabric. Such became only able to fully dissolve right before end of the first movement. Boorish romp of the Rabble episode and enunciation of most trombone arioso both happened very capably. Runnicles distinctively also found a rapt stillness for long rests between more dramatic utterances, mostly during wintrier episodes of the first movement.

Curious was a tendency to press forward sometimes, to get stopped by numerous sub-phrases in early funereal sounding rumblings through this - the losing sight of being able to press still a little more forward through series of these. Excessive dovetailing of many phrase endings in arioso developing in solo brass, partly to hide how expressively generic Runnicles’s handling of all this was, also became distracting. After first soggy intimation of thaw outdoors, Runnicles made confusing in terms of placement (vis-à-vis accompaniment) trombone lines through concertato of brass to what gets intended as fairly definitively nodal, sufficiently final conclusion - before real thaw settles in. Deep pulsation in the lower strings to close this section only compensated so far.

Some haze was made of figuration leading into more complete thaw to arrive, followed by adequately, surreptitiously entering march; handling of climatic music to cap further overt pressing forward was stodgy. Large segue back to renewed cold blast (in D Minor) got rushed and brass arioso solos to follow again were shapeless, with change into brighter color for brief duet between concertmaster and principal horn matter-of-fact, only minimal. The Rabble section started off well, very much in character, but then lost – eight measures in – lack of focus to line ensuing through it. Strings through the storm then got drowned out, compromising the full effect of a summer storm to wrest one through the midst of all occurring about. Runnicles then awkwardly jumped over good two beats of rest for snare drum to urgently segue in the recapitulation Calibration of rustling tremoli beneath more spacious spinning out of arioso in trombone was even a little more emphatically off than before ‘rabble’ and tempest, but BBC Scottish cellos framed eloquently their closing phrase to what followed.

Lift verging on Disney, cartoon-like opened second half of the Recapitulation. March tune, though through much of the rest gained better shape and dark episode right before the end, with its large, wide sweeping gesture, ascending runs too finally at last gaining the profile they deserve. Push to the end from here turned so light, detached from all the previous to insipid length, perhaps to help one forget the limited engagement of the shifting variety of colors and light through such a sprawl of a Mahler first movement.

Dragging accents from the oboe principal apart, the Minuet took on pleasant shape, but with Runnicles once into first Mendelssohn like trio self-conscious about downbeats, to make sure his forces all enter right. Clarinets, coming off strong gust of wind coursing through the meadow with refined attention to where downbeats are, restored requisite lightness to the touch for most of this. Drowsy feel, though on verge of becoming too gilded, informed reprise of the minuet, but nervous insistence on securing downbeats stood in the way of finding sufficient magic for varied strong breezes to waft on by through reprise of the trio section – bespeaking less than fully adequate preparation for intricacy to ensue through all this. Not all charm could get lost here, but there continued a nagging sense that there could be more to all this than to come by underlining so much – with final restoration of the opening section here. The heavy gilding of the light surge into the Neapolitan in the violins indicated perhaps higher rates of humidity out on a summer day in the highlands - or near Brenham where the bluebonnets grow and by the ice cream we eat, we surmise the cows near here think they graze in heaven.

Third movement, marked Comodo, got to the most promising start of anything thus far, with all rustic accents clear and good jaunt to the Beethoven parodying trio section. Just the concertato of winds at play through the scherzo seemed, one could surmise, as effective self-guided, as having to be extra attentive all the time to reassure the maestro that, for their section, all remained intent on staying together. A few disproportionate accents and over-emphasis on fortissimo crane downward of octave staccato brass distracted from overall good flow in advent of expansive posthorn interlude to follow.

Broadly taken post-horn interlude began magically – post-horn placed more forward than perhaps is ideal. Some element of the vernacular then crept in, even crooning of such, into the playing, limiting to ordinarily sublime this adieu to romanticism. Spirited enough, forthrightly paced, extra pointing of kletzmer accenting and sloppy attack in the strings during scherzo reprise turned vulgar. Birds, perhaps wanting to catch more Mozart, Schumann in the posthorn calls when they resumed, had to blithely settle once more for muzak instead; with perk aplenty, they did just that. Runnicles made something too lightly restrained for very close to the scherzo - after slight trouble right before with notably brief, mysterious episode – before all got sent hurtling off to a very rollicking conclusion.

Equally flat-line as mysterious episode right before - it called for to be very close to still anyway - was how opened the Nietzsche lied. The deep toned, highly expressive and solemn Karen Cargill guided horns into obbligato of very well sculpted line; violins followed suit eloquently on their cantilena between verses. Cargill, past illusion of practically too motionless re-start, gave her lines, starting off very quietly, the fuller ardor, urgency with no lapse in quality of what she poured out. Why could not have the childrens' choir been called to rise out of their seats right before the caroling fifth movement, instead of two seconds in? All was crisp from both choirs, with Cargill lightly but very expressively delivering much expected penitential fervor for her lines.

Solemn fervor marked most of the Adagio, with measured, freely expressive slow opening to its noble line and arch. Mildly extra arched leaning into climactic passages, particularly the vertical handling of a last one to reprise of Minore episode, proved distracting. Fine overall legato, filling out of transfigured light pretty much however still ruled the day. One or two transitions produced from Runnicles tentative opening to coda reprise of the hymnal main theme. Second part of double reprise at one point also got a little more chewed upon than should be ideal. Runnicles, apart from excessively projecting allargando turns in the trumpet parts, showed restraint in bringing his steadily paced Adagio to a measured, very euphonious conclusion. Apart from several lapses, still achieved here was a fairly acceptable rendition of the Adagio, to close halfway decent, but ordinary stroll through Mahler's paean to Nature - his Third Symphony.

Prom 27. Halle Orchestra, Mark Elder. Paul Lewis. Royal Albert Hall. August 6, 2010.

One among set of ‘Impressions’, nine minutes long, John Foulds’ evocative ‘April-England’ opened this altogether fulfilling single Halle prom for the summer. It opens with bright woodwind dominated carillon of alternating perfect fifth triads, perfect fifth apart - cellos responding with folk-like air of their own. A passacaglia takes up the entire middle half of this piece. Mark Elder preferred within fine enveloped profile to emphasize this music’s warmer colors, but without understating too much its brasher qualities, as in some of its extended polytonal leanings almost coming loose from their tonal moorings. It is perhaps as much as anything our knowledge of the music of William Walton, that in this music’s brasher qualities and brighter dissonances, one may pick up on the surface some Petrouchka like quality to the scoring, but deeper still the influence of Busoni. Mark Elder preferred having this music play in mildly broader, Romantic context, but within fine technique on display from the Halle. For all the free alternation of contrasting, clashing strands to jostle about the Halle exuded much confidence. If not as fully characterized as possible, Elder made overall good nature of this music, with its vernal splash, still something to be presented as at forefront.

An air of self-conscious reticence with quasi-period abbreviated note values opened the orchestral Exposition for the Beethoven Third Piano Concerto. All suggested some fine opening out of the line with winds, their entrance with the lyrical second theme, Except for distracting clunky negotiated cadence of sorts, fine calibrated tremolo through Halle strings assisted very well preparing Paul Lewis’s severely negotiated first entrance, with even octave length runs slightly more rolled than how he played similar later.

From this point on, even including the on purpose strained sturm und drang opening to the solo cadenza, everything from this point on just fell ideally into place, with hardly ever any lapse to encounter again. In all three movements, Lewis’s alternation of solo lines with principal winds and elaborate accompaniment to them was astutely, keenly sensitive - Lewis always also providing strong shape or at least preparation to everything in this way. While always highly attentive to maintaining classical proportions, Lewis still brought out a fire, a stormy quality to even ends of lines of animated figuration to extend and highlight a solo line both seamless and febrile with vitality – all without even a hint of self-consciousness. It was very evident how close Lewis and Elder had come together long by the coda by the very rapt attention to all at hand from both, in as tricky a passage to calibrate as anything in the Third Concerto. Lewis’s marking of long first descending run with forthright marking of thematic motif in strong octaves beneath into scintillating subtly varied trills was further hallmark.

Even a hint of Lisztian fire subtly infused spinning off cadenza like runs in the Largo within sublimely classical profile, noble shape to it all; bel canto ardor for beautifully singing line on the Hamburg Steinway employed for this entire venture was clear. One had to take note of how nobly profiled slow measured ascents on staccato sixteenths to accompany chords in the winds then set off much spin-off of very bright filigree in the right hand to follow. All then through subtly profiled alternation of simpler lines restored complete sense of noble frame to the Largo.

On purpose hesitant solo opening to the rondo overtly suggested openly mischievous play to come – in most varyingly enlightened openly Haydn-esque a manner. Lewis made suggestion of Lisztian quality to most brilliant flourish in the writing, but as still strongly characterized and framed by very forthright classical profile to it all. Elder and the Halle could have scarcely ever missed a beat in what continued as their best efforts in combining so well with Paul Lewis. This even rang true through raptly attentive, well articulated fugato to frame re-entry by Lewis into sublimely framed E Major reprise of opening theme. Reclamation of the opening idea in C Minor by the Halle, sternly astute, recalled overall tenor, sonority of the first movement. For further contrast, skipping descending second theme was both sprightly and minutely pointed from within by Lewis – for Halle solo winds to attempt precisely matching him at it – at which they mostly succeeded. Lewis entered slightly early on purpose, rhetorically to spin out very brilliantly the bracing cadenza and coda to follow with, though rigorously firm, a very merry, bustling conclusion to not only a definitive interpretation of the rondo, but of much of what preceded it, concerto as a whole.

Richard Strauss at the 2009 Proms shared, between several major tone poems performed, the giving off of more brilliant virtuosity than have either Bychkov's 'Alpine' or this Heldenleben entrusted to Mark Elder. Whereas good characterization in Strauss takes much virtuosic ability to achieve it, the Halle, while understating it, remained confident. There is certainly a ruminative, philosophical element to take into account. Ironically, in taking such an approach (Luisi's 'Alpine' not lacking some special insights –cross-referencing to other Strauss), some of the humor that occurs in this music can feature in stronger, even high relief - as opposed, for instance, to resembling just another dollop of virtuosic gesture. Much, not all of the Mehta Don Quixote last year, brilliantly played, demonstrated very good ear for it.

There is certainly risk, with Heldenleben, in taking excessively the meditative or ruminative approach. Try for instance still fairly recent EMI disc by Simon Rattle and the Berlin Philharmonic - in which I had placed high hopes. It stands as one of the most pure, perfectly staid, marmoreal Heldenleben's around on disc today – nevertheless so well executed. With there being so much about the 'romantic life' with Strauss's hero, self-portrait here, one seeks, strives in vain for indication of anything healthy to this going on - apart from maybe Strauss’s long-standing patience, virtue, but hardly masculinity in living long with a woman who when peeved could on a dime turn shrewish. Toscanini, had he perceived impetus behind writing this was just as Rattle picks it up, might have held Strauss in close to same regard he did Bruckner - or speculate as to when Richard and Pauline might have taken up Christian Science or anything likewise ascetic.

It was thus with mild trepidation I approached listening to this Heldenleben; but glad to report glass considerably more full than empty here. Certainly one could construe a certain Victorian mild manner, restraint, reticence in going about this, but fortunately we were clearly into world as Strauss conceived it - thus farther away from Dream of Gerontius or The Apostles than with Rattle's still well polished Heldenleben.

Mark Elder made lean fervor out of the 'hero' theme, encouraging violins to make sharp cut-offs to their interjections between statements thereof. Foray into enharmonically achieved harmonies immediately turned all airy, with even incisive coloring of reverie penciled in - no gilding allowed. Fine, muscular striving was made out of broader reaches into restatements of the 'hero' idea ultimately into strongly marked passionate sweep up major ninths in the violins toward making freely broad cadence to this section. Elder relied not at all on prop of hairpin pause to politely frame adversaries' entrances; their insolence got forthrightly, rudely emphasized instead - with all variety of cocky wit possible, just exactly as all should happen. Languor from violins was in full supply to stoically provide empathy.

Cheeky reprise of 'hero' material refrain then ushered in Lynn Fletcher, first very pensively as 'Pauline.' – as though shy to enter center stage just as of yet. Her mastery of much delicious caprice to follow showed a few cracks - hardly at all to impede upon the variety of attack, wit, color with which she displayed the flighty moods, passion of Pauline Strauss. Surge of passion from all tstands behind her developed gradually - eventually to take it on in full, with simultaneously steady tone and unbridled passion, while keeping the simplicity of Strauss's design in focus.. Fletcher then with great ease fell back into fine state of reverie as full participant in taking it all in. it would have been churlish to ask for more. Rattle's 'Pauline' episode had practically become staid to effect it could have made D.H. Lawrence blush - not forgetting how well Berlin can still play it. Fletcher’s unusually fine portamento, coming off well limned harp glissandi, provided great finishing touch – followed by very fine reflectively ardent principal clarinet.

Battle proceeded with consistent touch of irony, strong wit. One waited s in vain for the Halle to make as grand a cacophony as one might immediately draw out of a Berlin or Chicago, but no matter. Shift in emphasis here was at least in spirit as much in line with what Strauss wrote as any hollow bombast to be made out of this. Much sharp intricacy of the writing in so much interplay very skillfully, especially in light upper strings and winds highlighted the irony. Such vain conflagration shifted gears with ease into lean, direct repeat of idea of 'man of the bourgeoisie' hero Strauss was - with repeat chord accompanying winds driving all stirringly forward. Elder only lost a little focus in this music taking on greater heights than perhaps his interpretation would sustain - yet with french horn principal excessively underlining his part (through notable quotation of Don Juan) as though attempting to take it all on alone. His excellently very controlled soft playing in final episodes, however, came across most refined.

Noble cast, broad pace, also expressively guided mild liberty with Strauss's tempo markings informed closing passages to this Heldenleben. If there were one or two places the Halle strings could have sung out more passionately, they only held back once again with overall shape of the discourse here in mind. A hanging, drained tone of reverie over still, rocking obbligato in English horn was most poetic, following agitated stretto Elder avoided making too brusque. The woodsy toned reminiscence of earlier tone poems in previous episode found Elder on equally intimate terms with all of this. Passing reminiscence of adversaries became oppressive, almost as though something frozen in the psyche - all the greater for arriving conclusion to be more reassuring.

Lynn Fletcher's duet with principal horn maintained very slow steady line - all riding out beautifully poised toward horizon – with brief following moment of peroration all devoid of bombast. If not the most inspired Heldenleben, it still had plenty to say - what genuine, fervently humane qualities in full this music should still ideally communicate.

BBC Proms 2010 - Proms 6 and 8. BBC SO, Jiri Belohlavek, Paul Lewis (Beethoven cycle opener). BBC Nat'l Wales, Thierry Fischer. Alexander Toradze.

Prom 6. Beethoven Piano Concerto cycle. Paul Lewis. BBC Symphony Orchestra. Jiri Belohlavek. Royal Albert Hall, London. July 21, 2010.

The BBC Proms continued festive with opener to complete Beethoven piano concerto cycle – one better in having Paul Lewis as soloist. Two of the concerti comprised this series opener - the First and the Fourth. As Lewis explains, the First is obviously the more outward looking of these two, the Fourth the more inward, but enough to trade off between them as opportunity for Lewis to work in much subtlety, if not quite to fully academically achieved level of his mentor, Alfred Brendel - with that from Brendel sometimes some spontaneity abandoned.

The prom opened with Egmont Overture, some luftpausen - lyrical receding from which compelled some interest - toward start of it coming off indecisive. Jiri Belohlavek resorted to a little clipping to attempt firming up shape to first tutti in the Exposition - following noble arch in line for his cellos to introduce the main theme. Underlying accents with the main overriding line in tutti above got calibrated less fully than optimum. As matters wore on however, things gradually began to adopt more definitive shape with goal of achieving for the noble Egmont Overture a bright, heady conclusion.

One however had to wait past the First Concerto to find Belohlavek near his best. He had nobody better to emulate than Paul Lewis in this collaborative effort. Paul Lewis, much in alla breve manner of early Brendel, lavishly played up the brilliance of the solo writing and gregarious opera buffa element to this concerto’s outer movements. Occasion even to be outlandish, including big glissando into decisive start to the Recapitulation – as to have burst out of the shadows lurking about right before – was always right on target.

Belohlavek attempted making the BBC Symphony phrase about exactly as Paul Lewis was streaming all forth himself – albeit without their parts being functionally alike to his at all. With so much internally worked in device and rubato, the effort for orchestra to keep up with or capture much of the same became futile – glad nevertheless that soloist and maestro should indeed be very like-minded. There was much delightful here – the winsome smile with which Lewis characterized his opening solo, the on purpose garish brilliance with runs, rapid sequences and other feats of display. Belohlavek rendered phlegmatic a few introspective moments in the orchestral exposition, but Lewis searchingly, poetically the more deeply probing Development. Cadenza optimally came off with great wit, brilliance, and panache.

Bellinian line and reverie, never encumbered by any layering on - such as may have run Lewis aground on handful of movements during traversal of all the thirty-two sonatas two years back - characterized the Largo here in full. Sensuous duet with principal clarinet offered very pleasing equilibrium, tranquility, both soloists interchangeably enhancing the other's expressive efforts to the uttermost.

The rondo finale here continued the overall high spirits, with after Schnabel’s example, light, playful rushing down on bouncing accents at opening thereof, to make all jocular and light. Paul Lewis was also lightly brash, angular with middle section, retreating lines from both him and winds ideally balancing with poise much shaping they contributed here. Zip through ascending, smoothly terraced upward runs toward ending the rondo, playing off reprise of its main theme, was infectious. Lewis sang out last phrase to fine bel canto length, with only furious, rousing affirmation left to go.

Belohlavek then hit his stride with more vigorous than norm account of the Prometheus Overture, as to hint at much fire to draw up from underneath in the Fourth Concerto to follow. Belohlavek’s getting mix of both Italianate leggierezza and sturm und drang just in sync set all ablaze, as to make all galante or Biedermeier accents retreat. In doing so, he cut neither himself nor this music, its inherent charm short. All sufficed certainly well here to give the dilettantes in first audience ever for this a good jolt, Lord knows, what we always need these days, from anywhere, to do the same afresh.

The Fourth Piano Concerto turned out altogether a fine warm, glowing success. An unerring simplicity in setting all up quickly became rule of the day. The necessary poise was there for the opening unaccompanied soloist entry, without any affectation in the least. Lewis, after gently allargando inflected ritornello from Belohlavek, infused much opening elaboration with excellent singing quality to draw in full upon the roots from which this kind of writing lies - light air of fantasy infusing the arpeggios to spin off from that. While maintaining complete classical poise, Lewis expanded out for transition into the flatted mediant with open freedom, space liberally allowed for such. Lewis clearly provided this place specific shape regarding this music’s classical proportions, and at same time, indicate how they on a grand scale verge on bursting apart. He then scaled down virtuosic right-hand figuration to mid-ground behind prominent line in the woodwinds toward closing the Exposition. As though observing the solo part from alternating prism angles, Lewis ideally proportioned opposing tendencies under-girding much here.

A hushed sense of wonder, of foreboding opened the Development. Agitato ascending arpeggios Lewis played as only slightly more prominent toward crest of each sequence of these than overriding line orchestrally. After passionate spinning forth of ensuing mini-cadenza, Lewis then made retransition gleefully light into stretto to open the Recapitulation. Spinning forth of descending elaborate writing off the second theme was brilliant, but as to avoid calling attention to itself. Lewis prudently framed opening of the cadenza with its alternating octaves, and then made Lisztian fancy of what then spins off from them to gently limned reprise of the second theme. Capricious agitated writing in the right hand very proportionately contrasted with sternly enunciating first subject, with stylized quasi-operatic turbulence to follow - all as though to clear the air through spinning forth single line through level upon high to limn orchestral re-entry.

Prudently enunciated intermezzo followed, with beautifully timed, proportioned rhetoric from both Lewis and Belohlavek. What virtues had transpired thus far infused the sonata-rondo finale with airy lift and winsomeness, while still in context of music turned more inward than that for the First Concerto. Fine, excellent calibration of agitato passages in mostly the Development Lewis made open in their impulsivity, contrasting them with unaffected soaring line up high over long pedal point in the lower strings. Reprise of the main theme, especially one variant on it with light melodically broken octaves, became exceptionally playful and witty. Belohlavek contrasted hushed rustle to opening of the finale with fine heft with matters arising toward direct confrontation between soloist and orchestra. Cadenza went by forthrightly - fine virtuosic spinning off the octaves and deftly upward bouncing trills to lead into Elysian legato singing of the main theme from woodwinds in reply. Spark infusing huge secondary dominant clash helped inexorably bring all to a fine conclusion, making overall conception of the rondo complete. Among three very fine performances of the Fourth lately, the Elysian Freire/Metzmacher and more impassioned Barenboim, this one captured the Fourth with fullest sense of perspective. It all proved very satisfying – anticipating a second all Beethoven evening from Bremen-based chamber orchestra that in affecting much accomplished very little.

Prom 8. BBC National Orchestra of Wales. Thierry Fischer. Alexander Toradze. Royal Albert Hall, London. July 22, 2010.

In order to hone in better on central work on this program – Britten programmed as its direct accessory, good to start by discussing the Prokofiev First Piano Concerto placed in-between. Thierry Fischer is frequently welcome guest at the Proms for his very formally astute, rhythmically incisive, and dramatically insightful to even searing interpretations.

Alexander Toradze, who recorded all five Prokofiev concerti with Gergiev and the Mariinsky, asked rightly so for more orchestra behind what commonly is very forceful playing from him on Prokofiev. Fischer accommodated Toradze best he could, therein helping develop quite a meeting of the minds, as can be expected in imaginatively approaching Prokofiev’s music from contrasting angles. Whatever few notes were missed, a few chords stumbled over, much imagination and vitality invested here into a slightly off-center interpretation of early Prokofiev, neurotic and plentifully insightful, paid off. BBC Nat’l of Wales sounded slightly thin for the very start of this; Toradze's pro-actively helping make his playing of the often clangorous introduction integrate with the rest, from a customarily heavier approach one is accustomed to from Toradze, was most beneficial. Toradze played scherzo passages with spiky incisive wit – precariously arched negotiation made of ascending passages toward arousing much excitability.

Without being as self-conscious as Gergiev, Fischer gave this music a restive sense of nervous anxiety already near this music’s surface - to run as strong undercurrent to much at hand, in joining Toradze toward intimating what is ahead in the G Minor Concerto. Peppered by upward glissandi from Toradze, all lurking shadows for first somber intermezzo were intact. Fischer’s feel for romanticism may not be so naturally full-throated as from a Slavic podium for extended slow passage midway through; Toradze presented himself fully poised to bring it all out - with Fischer his very close ally in fully reassuring all it would. Stringent push forward into final scherzo reprise toward segue into grandiose reprise of the opening of the concerto was riveting. This Prokofiev proved informed energetic antidote to sobriety of the two works book-ending this program, major work in key semitone lower than this concerto - opening Britten in key a semitone above.

Kurt Masur’s Orch Nat’l de France Shostakovich Seventh became outstanding climax to recent Shostakovich centenary year at the Proms. Before discovering Mravinsky’s recording of the Seventh ten years ago, I hardly at all well reckoned this work's very real importance. Mravinsky gets to layers beneath others a little beyond how I had ever heard anybody do the Seventh before – really since. The not particularly Slavic Thierry Fischer gave the Seventh an unusually probing look. Such was halfway expected, but extent to which he took matters was truly outstanding. With lean textures, even slightly detached quality Fischer opts for, one had to wonder how he might fare with such epic Shostakovich. My gut had me think back to, in wake of devastating Eleventh Metzmacher did last year, to retrying an old Andre Cluytens recording of again the Eleventh, beautifully transferred (Testament) from muddy sonics before (EMI).

A drier quality of the playing, rhythmic, expressive simplicity and substantial emotional reticence Fischer and Cluytens now share, quite inimitably so. They now both have made music of something justifiably reckoned of encompassing historical relevance. When one hears ‘cosmopolitan’ referring to Shostakovich, one often first thinks Haitink or Simon Rattle, who each can rise to the occasion, less the agit-prop, shibboleth of a Rostropovich, Bernstein, or of even Toscanini – latter whose Seventh the composer despised (should Solomon Volkov be trusted).

Fischer began the symphony in somewhat ironic style – majestic start to ‘calm before storm’ episode – in giving it a regimented feel and even lightly interjected brash lift to succeeding line – that all with crisp gesture and much insinuation underneath fully started getting various points across. Fischer traced lines through contrasting orchestral voices with acute sensitivity – with much ominous hint of what is to come infusing so very much, as in almost comparably individual way to Ancerl or Mravinsky on disc. Richly voiced interaction between winds and lower strings well anticipated the gently limned second theme plus much else.

With Fischer, one had not the voice of the people so to speak, but that of the individual, that of a small voice through it all - without cheapening anything, humanizing Shostakovich in the process. Uneasy peace prevailed well until the ‘war march’ with out of all development of lyrical and melodic strands also would come on another level the darkest and most sinister motifs to emerge here as well. As has been said before, it is two sides of one coin that get depicted here. The Seventh is not quite two types of music that all as though through happenstance got stitched together to make some program out of it; it certainly was not here.

After benighted good cheer from piccolo and tense, thinly played high cadence by Lesley Hatfield, ensued the non-Development ‘war march.’ Fischer was unabashed in giving first full brass variation of it good swagger, and at what uncertain goal he hears everything here - with it no longer specifically the Wehrmacht any rationalization. Shostakovich, in writing the march, more likely had much noise, celebratory balloons surrounding Stalin’s five year plans in mind - source for the march being both German and Russian (including motif from Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk). A certain cool, glibly detached steady push forward on Fischer’s part here accurately depicting such behemoth - suggested mechanization, bureaucratization of society, of all human impulses thereby - moved forward to crush all. Without inculcating any untoward accelerando, Fischer had all inexorably strut forward through passing terror to very impassioned grief, especially in trumpets and high strings. Following somber long bassoon solo was most eloquent - amidst much sullen, numbed, shocked grief; it was starting with the loud opening of the Recapitulation at which Fischer logically found the heart of this sprawling movement. Expected reprise of opening material followed - with mildly less thrust, thus plentiful space for single pitch warnings in lower horns over low tremolo in timpani to sustain full sense of foreboding to its conclusion.

Fischer wisely chose to take the scherzo moderately swift - it too easily achieved some bonhomie, bourgeoisie sentiment in keeping with this music’s supposedly populist appeal otherwise. Even in single line in the violins approaching pizzicato reprise of the opening to segue in the middle section Fischer found element of harmonic impetus behind it, not just that of the Scherzo, but of continuing train of thought throughout the entire symphony. Fischer made for middle section insistent rocking motion forward with shrilly played piccolo clarinet high above agitated and very stark. He gave middle section of the Adagio - with its close-interval trumpets over driving percussion – similarly vigorous, virile stringency, despondency. The shudder, choked back tears associated with flutter tonguing in the flutes toward end of the Scherzo was subdued, as instead to sparsely depict numbed frozen expression of grief. If less moving than example set before, there was still the somber, distraught bass clarinet to eloquently fill all out.

Fischer’s keeping line very well sustained through the Adagio - with stark, Stravinskian austerity with which he infused its opening heavily doubled chorale for winds - was most convincing. He settled for gentle lift to accompany long spun, developed several pitch falling figure Tchaikovsky Third String Quartet quotation. Cellos provided Tchaikovsky quote second theme fine tonal warmth to fill out what first flute stand had rhapsodized five minutes earlier. At moderately slow pace, this Adagio coming in close to nineteen minutes, Fischer let nothing meander off for anything merely incidental or to risk untoward over-emphasis. Better the simplicity this music conveys so well on its own. If not quite Shostakovich’s most inspired Adagio, it still has plenty to say, doing so most freely with much prudence regarding its construction - as encountered here.

The finale rustled with lightly setting off, urgently insistent press forward through the ‘battle music’, but toward no clear goal of victory in sight. Rapid swirling about, approaching fugato, turned furious – albeit wisely at level of controlled inexorably organic press forward. Fischer made very underlined and insistent his transition into the preponderant Moderato epilogue to both the finale and entire symphony – as for it to carry very significant weight as to counteract what false has often been construed of this finale. Fischer was so very specific, purposeful with it all to even have set in relief measure or two of caccia style triplets in the horns to catch all off guard. All remained lean, very tense through the end, as opposed to all loud and chutzpah, with fortissimo trumpets hanging on to dragging, but firm dotted rhythms on pitches of E and D-sharp to refer back to, crying out over all the rest, Fischer’s very dogged start to the Moderato. At pacing of the finale a little quicker than usual with pounding timpani to drive everything home at the end, all became much enhanced here, never short-changed.

Here was then indeed a resolution on purpose insufficient at resolving earlier accumulated tensions, thus as close to definitive an account of the finale I have yet heard. Fischer honed such with an ear for relationships at semitone, whole tone, tritone between harmonies - also as spun out in (quasi-) a cappella lyrical passages. As again voice here for the small voice or simple individual to carry weight, through such very thorough preparation Fischer provided here, there is unsuspected by dull-witted coterie of apparatchiks an ever strong element of formalism – more probing at it than possible earlier with the more popular Fifth.

For greater eloquence, Fischer might invite some of his principals to sing out their lines a little more fully. Ancerl’s opening out of space for fierce high trill in flutes above much racket had more fire (with such ample space Ancerl provides). than from tighter embouchures at work here. Such quip here is churlish, in context of everything here – a real ferreting out of all text that lies beneath other text; look of exhaustion, including very minor incidence off final chord, was fully earned. All most necessary to communicate here remained steadfast, paramount.

The program though opened with the Sinfonia da Requiem by Benjamin Britten. Thierry Fischer refused to comfortably settle with standard idiom for conducting Britten's music – complacent level at which can make Sinfonia da Requiem sound utterly formulaic – as happens so often. The fleshing out of the internal harmonic structure of the music and motion carrying through it, whether fast or slow, was highly compelling here, and impetus for Fischer to take slightly more extreme than the norm in what tempos he chose. Nothing stood out as being particularly at either extreme. It was most of all Fischer's tenacity to maintain his tempos in interest of a rock steady pulsation to persist through the outer slow movements. Such simply provided bedrock, against which all voicing, even open singing of the lines throughout spoke with febrile line to the uttermost - for what novel writing lies beneath and within to also fully register.

Jaunty ease with ‘Dies Irae’ death-dance of sorts got traded in for something more incisive, telling as such. Breaking apart of much activity at the end sounded as though having organically processed out of abundantly clear tendencies to all have emerged right before. Precision of ensemble, with everything very doggedly worked out, was indeed remarkable at the fast clip Fischer took, all for most musical of purposes. Especially in the Requiem movement, noting subtle dark coloring with which the winds underpinned ascending strings, things hinted at very similar harmonic relationships spelled out and developed in the Shostakovich to come. Such a purpose driven, historical and time relevant account of this piece - as to have fit entirely well the expressive to symbolic purpose of programming arranged here – seems rare indeed.

Such fragile impression of life communicated in febrile limning of very steadily paced chorale by which Fischer led the slow finale, highly affecting this way – several remaining voices at the end distinctive while fading away as well. Played with such conviction, all sense of foreboding emerged complete.