Brahms, Schubert and...

Greater Victoria Youth Orchestra

Yariv Aloni, conductor

University Centre Auditorium
March 11, 2018

By Deryk Barker

Before Beethoven, the symphony was simply another element of the composer's arsenal, one form among many with which to demonstrate his (as it almost always was) skills.

After Beethoven (perhaps, specifically, after the "Eroica") everything changed, the symphony became a compositional Weapon of Mass Destruction, a vehicle for Major Public Statements.

Of course, there were composers who ignored this trend and merrily went their way composing symphonies among many other forms: Mendelssohn and Schumann, for example; but as the nineteenth century progressed, many composers felt that to produce a symphony was a major project and one which, therefore, was not to be undertaken lightly. There were even composers whose primary output consisted of little but symphonies (Bruckner and Mahler spring immediately to mind).

Arguably the composer who was most affected by this sea change was Johannes Brahms, who seemed to have the idea of composing a Significant Symphony in his mind from his earliest published compositions, the piano sonatas. Robert Schumann called them "veiled symphonies" and predicted that Brahms would become the leading symphonist of his time.

And then there were the actual attempts to write a symphony but which morphed into something else, the most notable example being the Piano Concerto No.1, Op.15.

In fact, so heavily did he take this symphonic responsibility that it was not until 1876, when he was in his mid-forties, that Brahms finally, over two decades after Schumann's prophesy, unveiled his Symphony No.1.

Moreover, the symphony had been years in the making; Max Kalbeck, Brahms' friend and eventual biographer, suggests that it was begun as early as 1855, although the earliest date that can be established for certain is 1862, when he showed a draft of the first movement to Clara Schumann and Albert Dietrich.

After all this effort, Brahms was not exactly overjoyed when Hans von Bulow dubbed it "Beethoven's Tenth" (he was being complimentary, suggesting that Beethoven's Nine had finally found a worthy successor) and several commentators (on the basis, seemingly, of a mere five-note phrase) compared the main theme of the finale to Beethoven's Ode to Joy.

Nonetheless, Brahms' Op.68 established him, at least in the minds of those not adhering to the Liszt-Wagner school of "New Music", as a major composer of abstract forms and he rapidly (within a year) followed up the first symphony with his second.

In many ways, Brahms' First is a rather forbidding, even dour score and not necessarily the first work one would expect a youth orchestra to play sympathetically.

It is, therefore, a testament to the players of the Greater Victoria Youth Orchestra and their Music Director, Yariv Aloni, that Sunday's performance was so much more than merely running through the notes.

The very opening so often serves to augur the quality of the performance as a whole and so it proved on this occasion. Eschewing the "treads of doom" approach favoured by many, Aloni's determined view of the first bars had the music gradually but relentlessly insinuate itself into one's consciousness, with Tristan Holleufer's excellent timpani being neither over- nor under-played.

The first movement was shorn of its exposition repeat which, for reasons I shall explain below, was, on this occasion, No Bad Thing; Aloni's main tempo was perfectly-judged and the build-up of tension in the development superb.

The slow movement exhibited some marvellous, full-bodied string tone and excellent winds, particularly Anna Betuzzi's oboe; the closing pages, with Isobel Glover's exquisite violin solo, were magical.

The third movement is no scherzo, but a typically charming Brahmsian intermezzo which, thanks to some lovely clarinet (Liam Pistor) and horn (Just Malchow), cast its spell most effectively.

The massive finale opened ominously and the pizzicato accelerando was beautifully handled. The brass chorale which precedes the main theme was commendably firm yet mellow-toned and, although Aloni did indulge in a slight speeding up after the opening statement of that theme (none is marked, but most conductors take one) it was very slight and did not, at least for me, undermine the musical argument, as it so easily can. And the strings produced a glorious tone for the melody itself.

The movement built inexorably to its final peroration, with the brass once again ringing forth triumphantly as the symphony ended in a blaze of sound.

A very fine performance indeed. I should explain that, having been kept up past my normal bedtime by the previous night's B minor Mass and then losing an hour's sleep thanks to the clocks' going forward, I could easily, had the performance been any less involving, have dozed off (this is why I was glad the first movement repeat was omitted).

So, although it sounds like a particularly backhanded compliment, I do not meant it thus when I say that the performance was so good it kept me awake.

The afternoon opened with Schubert's overture generally known as Rosamunde, although he actually wrote it for Die Zauberharfe (The Magic Harp). Happily, its association with the former has probably ensured more regular performances, which one can only applaud.

After nicely-balanced opening chords there was some very slightly scrappy ensemble during the slow introduction, but matters rapidly improved. The transition, after the pregnant end of the introduction, into the main allegro was nicely handled and the music fizzed along excitingly.

"I need hardly remind the reader that the orchestral piece universally known as 'Mussorgsky's Night on the Bare Mountain' is an orchestral composition by Rimsky-Korsakov based on the later version of the Bare Mountain music which Mussorgsky prepared for Sorochintsy Fair".

So wrote Gerald Abraham, author of a 1945 book on Rimsky-Korsakov, and it is true that the version generally performed today is Rimsky-Korsakov's.

It is also the case that the work is essentially a series of highly-coloured episodes, so to describe any performance as "episodic" is far from a criticism.

In this instance the series was particularly well-contoured and each episode was indeed colourful; tempo changes and dynamics were all meticulously handled and, to cap it all, the close was ethereally lovely.

An excellent latest showing from the Youth Orchestra.


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