University Centre Auditorium
June 29, 2014
"The title of this symphony-like orchestral work is explained by its tendency to treat the single orchestral instruments in a concertant or soloistic manner."
Béla Bartók was not the first composer to write a Concerto for Orchestra - Paul Hindemith, Zoltán Kodály and Walter Piston had all previously done so - but it was the premiere of the Bartók in Boston, in December 1944, which made the world sit up and pay attention.
Bartók's last completed work, the Concerto was an immediate success and for several decades it was the most frequently-performed twentieth century orchestral work worldwide.
It is, however far from easy music to perform and there are many professional orchestras who would probably think at least twice before essaying it.
Which makes the achievement of Norman Nelson and the Sooke Philharmonic Orchestra all the more impressive. Of course not every note was present and correct, but that scarcely mattered in the context of a performance which never once sounded tentative, a performance in which cracks were papered over almost faster than the ear could hear.
And exciting! I must confess that I've never really warmed to the concerto - indeed, to much of Bartók's music - but I was simply riveted by every minute of this performance and could barely keep to my seat in the sizzling finale.
There were simply too many highlights to discuss even a few of them, but I shall endeavour to mention at least a fraction in the hope of conveying something of the depth and magnitude of the achievement. The misterioso opening, pregnant with possibilities; the excellent flute and the beautifully-controlled accelerando which ensued; the bouncy bassoons at the beginning of the playful second movement; the snide trumpets; the warmth and richness of the brass chorale; the ominous doublebasses opening the "night music" third movement, with its dramatic tutti outburst; the lopsided rhythms of the fourth movement; the attention-getting horn call which opens the finale, which had tremendous momentum and in which Bartók returns to the dance music which had informed several of his early orchestral works.
In short, Nelson directed a performance of considerable insight and his players rose to the occasion. An occasion which nobody present will forget in a hurry.
Tchaikovsky was a master of melody and a master of orchestration. He could also be a master of form, but too often, particularly in his concertante and chamber works, he relied instead on what one might call the "faster-and-louder" method of development.
Which is by way of explaining that if my attention wandered during Sunday's performance of Tchaikovsky's Violin Concerto (and it did) no blame whatsoever is to be attached to either soloist Alice Haekyo Lee or the the accompaniment.
Lee, the winner of last year's Don Chrysler Concerto Competition, is just fourteen years old. Yet, during the performance, the only way one could have known this was by looking at her; she has a remarkable technique and tone production and these would be sufficient, but what really impressed me was her understanding of and sympathy with the music. She is most emphatically not just another teenaged violinist wunderkind, all technique and no emotion, but an artist mature beyond her years, from whom we shall no doubt be hearing a great deal more in the future.
From her first, confident entry Lee dominated the music, producing a rich tone and some dramatic rubato, closely followed by Nelson and the orchestra. Her shaping of the first-movement cadenza was superb and the orchestral pickup magical. The blazing final bars inspired a fair percentage of the audience not just to clap but to give a standing ovation.
The slow movement opened with some echt-Tchaikovskian winds and was marvellously played by all concerned; the splendid attacca led to a jaunty finale with some extremely well-managed tempo changes. Another blazing coda once again brought the audience to its feet.
While the focus of the performance was, of necessity, on Lee and her remarkable playing, it should not be forgotten that every concerto requires an accompaniment; this frequently thankless task was very well handled by Nelson and his players.
The opening work on the programme was Beethoven's overture to his incidental music to Egmont. From the initial chords, precisely attacked and with big, big tone and commendably precise subsequent diminuendo, this was another performance to treasure. Nelson's grasp of the overall structure was faultless, dynamics were immaculate and the tension, at times, almost unbearable.
There can be little doubt that this was the Sooke Philharmonic's most remarkable venture to date; to the extent that one wonders whether the term "community orchestra" is still adequate to describe them.
Or, as Winston Churchill did not (quite) say, in a completely different context: "Community Orchestra? Some community! Some orchestra!"