Enchanting and exhilarating with panache and potency | Plymouth Symphony Orchestra

ByPhilip Buttall

The latest heads-up on when Plymouth Guildhall’s seemingly never-ending refurbishment might be completed, now seems to be 2029. However, to be fair, the city fathers, not always known for their alacrity, have actually been working in the area, but rejigging Royal Parade, which runs along outside, parallel to the Guildhall. 

Although this means that current programmes from our own Plymouth Symphony Orchestra (PSO) can feature any concerto soloist, piano concertos are definitely off the menu, given that the old Steinway concert grand is probably laid up, somewhat unceremoniously on its side, with the rest of the Guildhall furniture and fittings.

Of course, piano concertos tend to be the most popular choice, but, and in the nicest way, having to decamp each time to the Minster Church of St Andrew, literally just up the road, is actually no hardship at all.

First and foremost, the church’s acoustics are far superior – even if the various columns do impede the view, for some members of the audience. Secondly, not only have we been privileged to hear some fabulous solo artists, strings in particular, but also some excellent vocal performances, all of which truly benefit from the not-overly-excessive reverberation-time in the church, as opposed to that of the Guildhall, which virtually has none at all.

Warm reception

For PSO’s Spring Concert, the once-more packed audience was treated to another typically well-planned programme with something for most people’s taste. At this juncture, I know I will be echoing the words of both players and audience alike, who have recently had to endure near-arctic conditions, due to a failed boiler and heating system, in wishing to thank the various authorities for getting everything back up and running, thereby returning the venue to the warm and welcoming state it had always been in, beforehand.

Tchaikovsky’s ‘Romeo and Juliet’ is known as a ‘fantasy-overture’, emphasizing the fact that it doesn’t strictly follow symphonic ‘first-movement’ form, which a good number of the composer’s contemporaries had adopted. Equally, while loosely based on the ‘Romeo and Juliet’ story, it doesn’t literally follow the events of the play, nor was it intended for use in any kind of theatrical presentation.

Subtle combinations

Consequently, the themes, as such, evoke various protagonists and specific happenings in the action, but in a purely musical context. While this might offer each player greater scope in interpreting their individual part, in Tchaikovsky’s superbly-orchestrated score, it still relies ultimately on any conductor’s ability to multitask – for not only are they solely responsible for the overall musical interpretation, but moreover in the way they delineate each character, or dramatic situation, subtly combining the roles of orchestral conductor, and artistic director.   

Seamless flexibility

In conductor, Anne Kimber, PSO once again has the ideal person at the helm, for not only was she able to bring together all the ‘episodes’ in seamless fashion, but there was always more than sufficient flexibility to allow the composer’s lush score to unfold in an especially dramatic and totally captivating fashion.

Despite there being no visual input as such, every member of the orchestra responded unfailingly, and the ‘plot’ just unfolded before our very eyes. The chorale-like intonation of brass and woodwind combined, was just one of many musical highlights, as was the exciting, swashbuckling sound of the strings, when firstly depicting the two feuding families, and later when singing out the work’s glorious ‘love-theme’, undoubtedly one of the composer’s ‘best-known tunes’, and delivered with such profound expression and tonal richness – even if ‘Jaws’ and girlfriend, Dolly, of James Bond ‘Moonraker’ fame – failed to put in an appearance on cue.

PSO were then joined by violinist, Irène Duval, for a performance of Max Bruch’s exquisite Concerto No 1 in G minor. Born to a Korean mother and French father, Irène, grew up in Japan, Indonesia and Hong Kong, before returning to France at the age of 11, subsequently graduating from Paris Conservatoire and the Kronberg Academy, a private music school for outstanding string players, based in Kronberg im Taunus, Germany.

Following a short, inherently sulky woodwind introduction, which the composer described as a ‘Vorspiel’, or ‘Prelude’, the soloist immediately follows this with an improvisatory, plaintive cadenza – on this occasion, a quiet, yet nonetheless dramatic opening which leads straight into the busy main theme that follows.

The violin’s opening note is, in fact its open G-string and lowest note. While there exist various ‘techniques’ to impart a semblance of vibrato to this otherwise completely unstopped note, this proved quite unnecessary in Irène’s case, given the stunningly-impressive tone of the Jean-Baptiste Vuillaume (1798-1875) instrument currently on loan to her.

Consummate panache

Soon there was a noticeable change in body language, as the movement unfolded, and Irène threw herself into the first theme’s agitated progression, managing all the technical difficulties with consummate panache, and an almost surreal accuracy. When PSO has such a highly-talented artist to support, it always seems to bring out the very best from its players and, of course, conductor Anne Kimber, who has that intrinsic ability not merely to accompany her soloist, but more so nurture them from the very first note to the end – something that is all the more impressive, considering the limited rehearsal time spent together.

Bruch’s first Violin Concerto is one of those sublime works which has a true ‘heart’ at it centre, just like the Variation No 18 in Rachmaninov’s ‘Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini’. In Bruch’s case it’s the concerto’s beautiful slow movement, one of those works which, when performed so sublimely by a top artist of Irène Duval’s impeccable pedigree, is emotionally guaranteed to bring a tear to the eye, if not a full torrent. I have scarcely, if ever, been privy to a more moving rendition of a movement which is carried virtually throughout its entirety by the soloist.

Exhilarating

But, no sooner had the closing notes of the ‘Adagio’ vanished into the roof beams, without further ado, the orchestra brought us swiftly back down to earth for the start of the exhilarating ‘Finale’, and where Irène’s choice of dress – a black and white bolero-style outfit – now made an added visual contribution to the performance thus far. For, after a brief orchestral flourish, the soloist introduces the main theme – a lively Romany-style melody replete with thrilling double stops, which Irène despatched with true virtuoso swagger, seemingly having morphed into the persona of a Gypsy violinist moving from table to table in some Zigeuner-style hostelry in central Europe, back in the 1870s.

Charmingly unassuming, yet prodigiously talented

Bruch had, in fact, solicited the advice of the greatest Austrian (then Hungarian) virtuoso of the day, Joseph Joachim, who was impressed, and suggested several additional changes. Joachim played the premiere of the revised concerto, and Bruch dedicated the published score to him. Almost 40 years on, Joachim cited Bruch’s G minor as one of ‘the four German violin concertos’ – alongside those of Beethoven, Brahms, and Mendelssohn, and referred to it as the ‘richest, and most seductive’ of the four. Irène Duval’s performance of absolute enchantment and ineffable ‘je ne sais quoi’, totally endorsed Joachim’s generous appraisal. Likewise, my chance encounter with the artist as she left the venue, confirmed what every member of the orchestra had already told me: namely what a charmingly unassuming, yet prodigiously talented young lady she indeed was – if her performance hadn’t already vouchsafed this, of course.

Given that, at the end of the first half, I was ‘cruising’ – both spiritually and emotionally – at some 37,000 feet, it came as no surprise that I then needed some 20 minutes or so to come back down to earth, which did, however, mean that the three somewhat less-substantial ‘programme-fillers’ at the start of the second half, were a tad less memorable, than the musical ‘embarrassment de richesses’ in the first half. But that’s not to say that de Falla’s ‘Ritual Fire Dance’ lacked the necessary gusto and élan, or that the sultry timbres and evocative rhythms of Piazzolla’s ‘Libertango’ failed to transport us speedily back to the impoverished neighbourhoods and slums of Buenos Aires and Montevideo in the 1870s – effectively the birthplace of tango.

A well-disciplined and slick ensemble

Ravel’s hauntingly-evocative ‘Pavane pour une infante défunte’ brought this this little triptych to a close. Considering some of the enormous fortissimo-climaxes of the first-half, it was most impressive to savour some equally-effectively pianissimos here, at the complete opposite end of the dynamic scale – something which is very much the trademark of a well-disciplined and slick ensemble.

Potent contribution

There was some particularly effective work from the horn, and woodwind sections respectively, and a real bonus, in fact, throughout the whole programme – the really potent contribution from the harp. Thank goodness we are talking about a real harp here, and not some kind of electronic impostor, and with the player situated right down at the front, at the back of the first-violins. This enabled the instrument both to project most effectively, but without tending to overpower – something which can so often happen where an acoustic instrument is not available.

At this point in the proceedings, my personal choice would be for a not-overly long symphony to play us out. However, some kind of symphonic suite can often provide a viable alternative, such as Stravinsky’s seven-movement Suite from ‘The Firebird’ in its 1919 Revision. But when Igor Stravinsky has never been your go-to composer – or cup of ‘chai’, so to speak – it can be somewhat more challenging at the personal level. However, that’s not to say that I still wasn’t immensely impressed with, or failed to enjoy the performance overall, or that every member of the orchestra didn’t appear to put their heart into each note heard, and nowhere moreso than in the closing bars of the Finale, where the sound produced was of epic, seismic proportions.

The orchestra was led, on this occasion, by much-loved and well-respected violinist, Dawn Ashby, and the evening was introduced by first-violin colleague, Nathan Broomhead.

PSO has one of the very best string sections on the amateur front, but is really crying out for another double-bass player at the very least. Currently with only two regular bassists, while they do an absolutely sterling job every time, they simply lack the numbers necessary to provide a truly adequate support for the orchestra as a whole.   

Players interested in joining PSO should contact Musical Director, Anne Kimber on 01803 732550.

PSO’s Summer Concert takes place on Sunday June 21 at Sterts Arts, Liskeard, starting at 5.30pm, and will then be repeated on Wednesday June 24 in the Minster Church of St Andrew, Plymouth, at the slightly later starting time of 7.30pm.

On this occasion, PSO will be joined by Belfast-born soprano Giselle Allen, in operatic arias by Puccini, Verdi, Dvořák, and Lehár. The programme will also feature orchestral works by Shostakovich, Debussy, and Rimsky-Korsakov.  

Full details are available by visiting the PSO website.

Philip Buttall
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