Cathedral Festival Orchestra

Cathedral Festival Orchestra

Gordon Lucas, conductor

St. Andrew's Cathedral
July 29, 2006

By Deryk Barker

"This Symphony, being purposely written at greater length than usual, should be played nearer the beginning than the end of a concert, and shortly after an Overture, an Air, and a Concerto; lest, if it is heard too late, when the audience are fatigued by the previous pieces, it should lose its proper and intended effect."

How times have change in 200 years. The notion, today, that after an "overture, an air and a concerto" we should still be nearer the beginning than the end of a concert frankly fills this listener with horror.

But, in Beethoven's day, mammoth concerts were the norm; perhaps the seeds of the gradual shortening of programmes were sown in the work whose performance notice is quoted above: the "Eroica" Symphony. Certainly the emotional and intellectual demands made by the composer of his audience increased significantly with this work, making "listener fatigue" a distinct possibility.

Saturday night's Cathedral Festival Concert close with a superb account of the Eroica. It is a real treat to encounter a conductor who not only feels (as his spoken introduction made clear) as I do about the significance and stature of the work, but actually manages to convey that belief in performance.

Gordon Lucas directed what many today would probably consider an "old-fashioned" performance, particularly in regard to the sound of his orchestra. There was little of the rasping brass or crisp, vibrato-less strings that we encounter under the name of "Historically Informed Performance"; this was a modern instrument performance and made no bones of the fact.

Not that I have a problem with this: to suggest, as some seem to, that there is only one way to play a Beethoven symphony is insulting to the music; great music can bear a great variety of interpretive weight and the "Eroica" is one of the greatest artefacts of Western Art.

Lucas's tempos, in particular, were fascinating: it is not often that one hears a 20-minute opening movement - largely because those who indulge in even slower tempos (Klemperer, Konwitschny, Barbirolli, Giulini) rarely observe the exposition repeat (in Klemperer's last performance the first movement comes in at a few seconds under 19 minutes - sans repeat). But Lucas's tempo still rates as very slow by today's fashions.

And this might indeed have been a problem, especially as the first half of the concert had been quite long and the opening notes of the Beethoven did not sound until almost 9:30. But in Lucas's steady hands it did not sound a second too long and held the attention completely; the way he piled on the tension during the long crescendos was exemplary; the preparation, in the strings, for the final coda was exquisite - even though some will argue (and I think I would be of their number) that the high trumpet notes are corrupt, no matter how well played.

After this lengthy and massive opening movement, Lucas took the succeeding funeral march at a decidedly brisk tempo. Again his shaping of the music was the ultimate argue in favour. The fugue was particularly good, although here, as in a few other spots, the small body of strings - just fourteen, the Vienna Philharmonic would field at least that many first violins - meant that the sound was not as full as it could have been.

The scherzo, taken at a deliberate pace had plenty of spring in its step and the horns were appropriately bubbly in the trio.

The finale started very briskly and then slowed down hugely - again, this is not without precedent - for the main statement of the (bass of) the theme, with marvellously weighty pizzicatos. Despite the slight acceleration in the first fugato this was virtually the only spot in the entire work where I wasn't totally convinced by Lucas's tempo. The lengthy poco andante took great pains over Beethoven's carefully-marked dynamics and the final pages brought the symphony to an exciting close.

Despite a few infelicities (the occasional intonation problem, a couple of patches of scrappy violin ensemble) the orchestra played very well indeed, producing a full, resonant sound (the warm acoustic of the cathedral undoubtedly helping). For their number, the strings made a more than respectable sound and were only overbalanced in the loudest passages (I was especially impressed by this aspect of the performance). The wind lived up to the high standard of wind-playing in this city and the brass were forceful and powerful without ever becoming coarse or harsh.

Of the numerous "Eroicas" I have heard in this town in the last decade and a half, this was without question the finest performance, despite the occasional technical shortcoming, because it had the most to say about the music. And to Gordon Lucas must go much of the praise for his perspicacious and illuminating interpretation.

I actually joined in the standing ovation - perhaps the fourth or fifth time I have done so. It was that good.

For three centuries England was "Die Land ohne Musik", preferring to import its great composers - Handel, J.C. Bach, Haydn. Despite the presence of many lesser figures on the scene, we can delimit this fallow period by two events: the death, in 1695, of Henry Purcell and the first performance, in 1899, of Elgar's "Enigma" Variations.

Saturday's concert opened with the Suite No.2 from Purcell's incidental music to Spenser's Faerie Queen. Lucas directed a lovely performance; the opening Air was (aptly) airy and light, the final Chaconne, in triple time, danced.

The three British folksong arrangements which followed were less uniformly successful.

Leslie Pearson's arrangement of "Early One Morning" was nicely orchestrated, well-played and even featured a fugue. Chris Hazell's version of "Sumer is icumen in" featured an interesting mix of modal and newer harmonies, but went on a little long.

Finally Pearson's Songs of the British Isles. which included "The British Grenadier", "Loch Lomond", "Men of Harlech", "London Bridge is Falling Down" and what sounded to me very much like Percy Grainger's Walking Tune, in which case it was not, strictly speaking, a folk song at all, although Pearson would not be the first to be misled by one of Grainger's original melodies. Again it was very well played but, for me, rather outstayed its welcome.

Which was certainly not the case with Hamilton Harty's suite arranged from Handel's Water Music, which closed the opening half in considerable style.

But the main event of the evening was surely the Beethoven.


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Last modified: Wed Aug 2 20:56:20 PDT 2006