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University Centre Auditorium
August 16, 2008
The second symphony of Brahms is often referred to as his "sunniest", but one suspects that this is almost by default: obviously neither the first nor fourth, which are in the minor key, can be considered "sunny" and the third, while in F major, falls under the heading of "Autumnal Brahms".
Clearly, then, if we are seeking a "sunny" Brahms symphony, the second must be it.
Unfortunately, the music itself does little to support this view and besides, we must surely take into account Brahms's own remark (in an 1878 letter to Elizabeth von Herzogenberg) that in rehearsal the musicians played the symphony "with crêpe round their arms, because it sounds so mournful."
Simon Capet and his Euphonia Festival Orchestra closed Saturday evening's concert with a fine performance of the symphony which, if not quite resolving the difficulties of the work - the first movement, for example, does tend to meander somewhat - was as convincing and satisfying a reading as I've heard in a very long time.
That first movement, despite its tendency to ramble and seem a touch long (especially with the exposition repeat included, as it was here), contained so much beautifully felicitous detail - the cellos' gorgeous second subject melody, reminiscent of the famous lullaby, the way the sound opened up in the development, the resonant pizzicato at the close - that it would be churlish to cavil.
The inner movements are less problematic, but Capet lavished as much attention on them, bringing out the drama in the slow movement and the delicious lilt of the third.
As with the finale of the First, pacing is everything in the last movement and again Capet proved himself masterly, from the supple litheness of the opening, hinting at vast reserves of strength, to the exuberance of the final coda, the relation of the parts to the whole was just so.
And the tension he built in the final coda was such that the final notes of the music were seemingly greeted by a collective exhalation of breath as precursor to the applause and cheers which the performance so richly merited.
The Four Last Songs of Richard Strauss were not, as far as can be ascertained, intended by the composer as a cycle; yet, from their first, posthumous performance, they have almost invariably been regarded and performed as such.
Making her final appearance at this year's Euphonia, Turid Karlsen was as mesmerising in the Strauss as in Tristan last week.
Again it was the combination of power and beauty in her voice, together with superb control, which so impressed. But do not read that to imply that the impression was all technique and no emotion, far from it: Karlsen's technique is always at the service of the music and all four of the songs were deeply felt.
Capet and his orchestra provided a marvellous accompaniment for Karlsen; tempos were finely judged and the orchestral sound had that burnished golden glow which late Strauss demands.
Karlsen also opened the evening with Beethoven's dramatic scene "Ah! perfido" (for some reason usually translated as "Ah! treacherous one" - what is wrong with the perfectly good and apt English word "perfidious", one wonders).
The music is a real showcase, providing the singer with a great combination of dramatic and lyrical music, in both of which Karlsen excelled. I was especially taken with her singing of the lovely, almost Mozartean melody of "per pieta".
The one work - indeed composer - on Saturday's bill with whom most of the audience were probably unfamiliar was Michael Torke. (Who knew, for example, that his surname is pronounced like an early non-silent motion picture?)
The most mysterious aspect of his Ash, from my perspective, was its title, which remains a conundrum.
The music, on the other hand, was resolutely diatonic and rhythmically vital, as was the performance.
Capet, in his spoken introduction, compared the piece to a vast Beethovenian coda. It's certainly a point of view, but to my ears Torke's more obvious influences were Stravinsky, the minimalists and Aaron Copland - in fact, the entire central section of the work sounded like a riff on the opening of Appalachian Spring.
Yet Ash also shows that Torke is his own man and, for all of the apparent influences, the music has its own personality.
Saturday's performance was superb, rhythmically taut and vital, with wonderful slashing syncopated accents.
Once again Capet employed the "Meiningen layout" for his orchestra and once again the benefits were outstanding - even in music, such as the Torke and Strauss, which can hardly have been composed with the layout in mind.
Throughout the evening the orchestra played superbly, producing a sound entirely in keeping with the music: "lean and mean" in the Beethoven, lush in the Strauss. Among many memorable individual contributions I must mention concertmaster Müge Büyükçelen's delectable solo in the third of the Strauss songs and principal horn David Haskins's playing in the Brahms and Strauss.
Another tremendously rewarding and exciting musical evening from Euphonia.
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