CityLife

BBC Philharmonic: Schwertsik, Mahler

By Robert Beale

BBC Philharmonic 
Bridgewater Hall
January 16, 2010

THE Mahler marathon has begun. And the Bridgewater Hall was packed for the first concert of this joint project by the BBC Philharmonic, Hallé, Manchester Camerata and the hall itself, commemorating 150 years since his birth.

Gianandrea Noseda conducted the BBC Philharmonic in a performance of the first symphony that was the first, in my experience, to evoke without doubt its early nickname of 'The Titan'.

That was in the finale above all, where the sense of upward striving and unassailable victory was overwhelming. Noseda knows how to whip up a dynamic storm - and knows his orchestra can follow him all the way when he does so. Energy was kept under severe restraint for the whole of the long first-movement introduction, too, making for a volcanic eruption when the giant finally arose.

But he's also a true son of Italy when it comes to luxuriating in the sweep of a big melody: that was there in the finale, too, and in the third movement, too. It only takes an 'expressive' marking in the score, coupled with emphases in an individual line, to bring out the dreamer in him.

The second movement proved the most intriguing, as the emphatic accelerations in the main tune and the ingratiating trio prompted thoughts that perhaps this, too, is a taste of Mahlerian burlesque.

Vigorous

But the most rewarding part of the concert was its first half - the world premiere of Kurt Schwertsik's Nachtmusiken, the first of the pieces commissioned to stand alongside the Mahler symphonies in the Manchester cycle.

The title is indicative of a relationship to Mahler (who used it to name two of his seventh symphony's movements) but also slightly misleading, because it's really a compact five-movement symphony in itself, with its own two slow sections.

The music is wonderfully varied: the first, subtitled Janáček Appears To Me In A Dream, is a relatively tough working out of a short phrase; the second (Viennese Song) slightly sleazy, with the feel of a smoky post-war nightspot; the third a brief elegy; the fourth a vigorous march which won its own spontaneous applause; and the last mainly built on an assemblage of quasi-classical fugal procedures.

Nothing to frighten the most cautious listener . except that you're never quite sure when Schwertsik is engaged in a send-up and when he's being serious. It covers a huge amount of ground in a short time, and is so concise as to be itself a commentary on Mahler's contrasting prolixity.

Schwertsik was greeted with a huge cheer when he took his own personal bow, which says a lot. I'd go along with that.

Reviewed: Mon, 18 January, 2010

Your Ratings (Rollover to rate)

Register Now to rate this