ROYAL
PHILHARMONIC ORCHESTRA Bridgewater Hall
THE Royal
Philharmonic has a sound that’s its own, and it’s mainly to do with full-on
tone production and a very clear cello line – indeed it was quite a surprise to
hear so much volume coming from a band of 50 strings, when some top orchestras
would rarely be seen without 60.
Their
concert at the Bridgewater Hall, with Pinchas Zukerman as violin soloist, was
on traditional lines in the choice of
music – two Beethovens and Elgar – and pretty traditional in the way they
played, too.
Conductor
was Christoph Koenig, and with Clio Gould leading they managed to get the
opening tuttis of Beethoven’s Coriolan overture together by the fifth attack,
which wasn’t bad for a start from cold. After that it went very well (except
for the final plucked unison), and very much in the central European tradition
of big and resonant.
It was Beethoven
on auto-pilot at times, too, which now and then applied to the ‘Pastoral’
symphony (no. 6) also. All four horn players came on to share duties and beef
up the sound where required, and the wind players made lovely birdsong amid an
appealingly transparent texture from the full band.
There was nothing
so modern as an exposition repeat in the first movement, though, but the storm
evocation was open-throttle and thunderous, and much lovely mellow playing came
in the second and final movements. I think they were as entranced by the sheer
beauty of the writing as we were, and enjoying the experience, too.
So were the
audience – despite a gentle ticking-off from the conductor to some for
applauding after the first movement. Charles Hallé liked to hear applause after
a good symphonic opening, and I don’t see why anyone shouldn’t reinstate the
practice for music of this era. I say don’t worry, folks.
Zukerman’s
account of the Elgar violin concerto was positive and by no means
over-sentimental. Even the tenderest of themes had a bit of swagger and
flourish in his hands, and the orchestra brought its incisive brass to a
rendering that was fully in sympathy with the composer’s voice and yet seemed
to lack direction occasionally.
The middle
movement had sweetness and winsomeness and at the end the right sense of awe
and self-effacement, while the finale brought more hushed nostalgia alongside
touches of Edwardian grandeur, which went down very well with the public.
***
Robert
Beale
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