Review of Hallé concert conducted by Kahchun Wong 3 October 2024

Kahchun Wong conducts the Hallé  cr Alex Burns, the Hallé

Popped in between the opening concert of the Hallé season and his next big contribution to the regular autumn series for Kahchun Wong was a “Rush Hour” concert – one that follows the formula of a novelty (or near-novelty) plus a repertoire work, both played as an interval-less, approximately one-hour long, early evening programme.

The repertoire work was the 1919 suite from The Firebird, by Stravinsky, played with bright colours, delicacy and purity in the opening, percussive interjections from the brass in the Infernal Dance, beautifully controlled textures in the Lullaby, and a very grand final Hymn, starring the big bass drum. It was all very rewarding and praiseworthy.

But before that came Tan Dun’s Violin Concerto: Fire Ritual, with Eldbjørg Hemsing as soloist: the UK premiere of the piece, which was given by the same conductor and soloist in 2019 with the New York Philharmonic (its first time in that city).

It’s another example of “East meets West” in Wong’s programming, being written by a Chinese-American and based on a Taoist tradition of ritual that goes back to Chinese imperial times. The sound of traditional instrumentation is also evoked in Tan Dun’s writing – but not in the sense of using old instruments, rather as the inspiration for parts of a vastly varied sound world.

In one way it’s about as varied a sound world as anyone could hope to get from a symphony orchestra (and its conductor). There’s not just the sound of instruments being played in the usual way, but also unusually (a bowed cymbal, for instance), to which are added things such as players whispering, breathing noisily and humming, the conductor singing, and unison audible page-turning by the musicians – it’s surprising how loud that can be when you want it to.

In addition, the wind section of the orchestra was positioned away from the rest in the auditorium, and placed in pairs (oboe, flute, bassoon, clarinet, etc) facing each other from opposite sides of the gallery seating. So not just a quadrophonic experience, but surround sound in multiple variations.

And the soloist begins peripatetically, entering from the side of the platform as she plays and proceeding around the stalls seats until taking her place centre-stage. Much to see, as well as to hear.

I guess it all contributes to the sense of a ritual procedure, but the music has precise descriptive content, too. There are four sections, which we are told evoke the memory of the victims of war and those who have suffered throughout human history, with a kind of interlude called “Heavenly Birds” (guess what noises that requires) and a final prayer for peace. And let’s not forget a virtuosic cadenza-style episode for the soloist – variety is of the essence – and a brief motif for solo tuba which isn’t totally dissimilar to that at the start of the Infernal Dance in Stravinsky’s Firebird. I guess many will have found the very Chinese-sounding, pentatonic “big tune” towards the end the most heartening and melodious aspect of the whole musical pattern, which in technical terms is worked from and around the note D (or “re” in tonic sol-fa notation of the open key, audio-visually punning to indicate the ideas of return, rebirth and re-live).

It strikes me as in some ways like what in the 1960s we used to call “a happening” (as does Bernstein’s also ritual-based Mass): never a dull moment and fascinating in its mental stimulation.