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Royal Theatre
December 8, 2008
"Carl Nielsen, Denmark's great son, was a born composer of symphonies, although his work embraced all forms of music. Through his great intelligence he developed his genius, in order to attain the aims which were - as I see it - clear to him from the beginning...One speaks of head and heart; Carl Nielsen had both in the highest degree".
The words are those of Jean Sibelius, in a written message to the Copenhagen Nielsen Festival of 1953.
Of his six symphonies, the most popular is probably the Fourth, dubbed "The Inextinguishable" by the composer himself - although he was using the word as a noun, not an adjective; and it was the Fourth which closed Monday night's concert.
Tania Miller directed a superbly-played performance, indeed, I don't believe I have ever heard the Victoria Symphony in better form. There was a real sheen and lustre to the strings, the ever-reliable woodwind were on top form and the brass were exceptional: powerful without being abrasive and above all, in tune.
And what can one say about timpanist Bill Linwood and his (for one movement at least) partner-in-crime Corey Rae? In the earlier movements there were occasions when I expcted Newton's Third Law was about to eject Linwood from his seat, so powerful was his playing. The finale at times sounds more like a concerto for two timpanists and I suspect the Royal Theatre has rarely heard its like.
This was first-class playing all round.
But - you knew there was a "but" coming, didn't you? - Tania Miller's tendency, which I have noticed before, to speed up when the music gets louder and slow down when it gets softer, undermines the structure and all too frequently allows the tension to flag.
As Robert Simpson observed in his landmark work "Carl Nielsen Symphonist": "Tranquillo, however molto, does not require a radical reduction of pace for its musical expression, which can be achieved by clear and gentle playing, firmly enlivened by a continuing tempo".
This is one just example from a page or so of "features which can lead the exhibitionist conductor astray". It should be mandatory reading for anyone contemplating conducting a Nielsen symphony for the first time.
Nevertheless, I remain grateful for the opportunity to hear this astonishing work in the flesh and so wonderfully well played.
The main work before the interval was the Cello Concerto by Elgar, his last major work.
I have heard John Friesen play several times before; I have even heard him play this same concerto. Which is why I can say with absolute certainty that he was either having an off night on Monday (we all do) or that he had sent his less-talented twin on stage as substitute.
No matter what the cause, and while there were flashes of the old Friesen - the lyrical, singing tone and fearsome accuracy - there were also passages in which he seemed to be straining for the notes (and, alas, not always hitting them) and consequently producing a less than gorgeous tone.
Nor am I entirely sure who was in charge of the performance; certainly Friesen spent more time looking at Miller than is usual in a concerto. Whoever it was, it was not a performance I shall treasure; tempos in the slower music were dreadfully slow, leading to the observation in my notebook that the opening movement is "a lament, not a funeral march". Too frequently the music seemed to sag under its own weight, although, once again the orchestra was in very fine form.
Overall this was not so much a performance that skimmed the surface as one which took a leisurely stroll around the shoreline without even getting its feet wet.
While musically hardly in the same league, the opening overture to Borodin's Prince Igor showed the orchestra at their euphonious best. Miller's direction was clean and unfussy.
While we're here, there is one other thing which has been bothering me for a while and upon which I must finally comment.
I have often been asked how I prepare for a review (bear with me, this is relevant). It depends, of course, on the music being performed: unfamiliar, even brand-new music brings one set of problems; the familiar, another set.
When I have a very familiar, much-loved work in prospect - and both the Elgar concerto and the Nielsen fall into this category - I shall probably listen to a number of recordings of the work around a month or so before the concert. For the week or so immediately before the performance, while I might well listen to other music by the same composer, I shall deliberately not listen to the actual work to be performed, in order to restore some degree of freshness to what might otherwise be overfamiliar.
The last thing I desire or require, then, is an illustrated pre-performance talk, which is why I generally avoid them like the plague.
Given that Victoria Symphony concerts these days come with a pre-concert talk as well as good programme notes, it is difficult to understand why Miller feels that she needs to add her own verbal insights to the mix as well. And Monday night's talk before the Nielsen included the full orchestra playing several extended excerpts, leading some to believe they were hearing the work twice and me to wonder if I hadn't accidentally wandered into a performance of "The Interminable".
And this may just be my opinion, but I cannot help but feel that Miller's "I want you to listen for this" approach is more suited to a children's concert; I had hoped I was at the Concerts for Adults series.
A decidedly mixed evening.
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