MANCHESTER
CAMERATA Bridgewater Hall
BY the time
Manchester Camerata’s season-opening concert took place on Saturday, its title
had expanded from just ‘España’ to ‘España, Beethoven and the Beatles’. The
reason for the third part of that trilogy only became apparent during the
evening, but the capacity to hit multiple targets simultaneously is a Camerata
feature these days, and they do it very well.
So the
Bridgewater Hall audience was introduced to their community work with a
pre-show performance, and to their ground-breaking work with dementia patients
through a short film in the hall itself.
The
music-making began with Rossini, whose overture to The Barber Of Seville,
ostensibly Spanish in location, is really about as Italian as you can get (as
music director Gábor Takács-Nagy explained in his introductory chat). It was
lively and transparently-textured, a factor that rubbed off in all the
subsequent orchestral playing.
España
itself followed – the overture by Chabrier, re-arranged by Simon Parkin for chamber
orchestra in a way that brought birdsong to the range of colourful effects and
kept the percussion players (all two of them) extremely busy switching from one
piece of kit to another (and sometimes deploying two at once). I don’t think
I’ve ever seen a maraca used to hit a kettle drum before.
He needed
two chairs on stage – one for himself and one for his little amplifier, which
certainly helped to make every note of the solo audible over the orchestra,
though I’m not sure how much Rodrigo would even have expected that.
Still, it
was a lovely and lively interpretation of the piece (extremely so in the case
of the oboe part in the first movement), with the orchestra producing some
delicately tiny pianissimi, and Craig Ogden’s playing superb as ever.
Then the
first explanation of where the Beatles were to figure in the concert: his
encore was Takemitsu’s solo guitar version of Yesterday, which is just a little
different from the original but equally enchanting.
Beethoven’s
‘Pastoral’ symphony (no. 6) followed, played by Takács-Nagy and the Camerata
with all the imagination and dramatic effect they could muster: it’s exciting
to hear how thunderous the storm can sound even with limited numbers in the
orchestra (as would have been the case originally), and never was the sense of
devout communing with nature quite so well evoked as at the end of this reading
– Beethoven as a musical Wordsworth.
Then the
second Beatles number, as the strings of the orchestra played Eleanor Rigby as
their encore to the whole programme. It certainly sent everyone home happy.
****
Robert
Beale