LSO St Luke’s
Tchaikovsky – Fantasy Overture:
Romeo and Juliet, TH 42
Panufnik – Cello Concerto
Myaskovsky – Symphony no.27,
op.85 (London premiere)
Bartholomew LaFollette (cello)
Melos Sinfonia
Oliver Zeffman (conductor)
I was delighted to have this
opportunity to hear the Melos Sinfonia under their young (still an
undergraduate at Durham) principal conductor, Oliver Zeffman. The orchestra’s
players are current students and recent graduates of major conservatories and
universities, as well as orchestras such as the European Union Youth Orchestra,
the Gustav Mahler Youth orchestra, the Britten-Pears Orchestra, and the Southbank
Sinfonia. Moreover, the stated commitment to ‘playing rarely-performed works
and new compositions’ is laudable – and was certainly displayed on this
particular occasion.
The only repertory piece was
the opening Tchaikovsky Romeo and Juliet
Overture. Though there were occasions when the strings might have benefited
from lusher tone and indeed from greater numbers, and there were a few frayed
edges, they were less frequent than one might have expected. Moreover, keen
woodwind playing proved ample compensation. Zeffman guided the score not only
ably but perceptively. There was a true sense of narrative characterisation and
development, placing the overture firmly within a post-Lisztian context. It is
a brave work with which to open, but courage was amply justified. I have heard
considerably inferior performances from ‘big name’ conductors and orchestras.
Having proved themselves in
such treacherous territory, it was then perhaps easier to gain an audience’s
trust for a less familiar work, Andrezj Panfnik’s 1991 Cello Concerto, written
for Rostropovich and the LSO during the composer’s final illness, his final
work. Joined by the excellent cellist, Bartholomew LaFollette, the musicians
gave what seemed to me an authoritative account, clearly well-rehearsed and
powerfully executed. Throughout, rhythms were taut, without a sense of being
excessively driven. LaFollette proved adept at spinning long-breathed melodies
in the Adagio first movement. Zeffman
accompanied – much of this first movement does seem to be largely a matter of ‘accompaniment
– attentively, and had the orchestra dance winningly in the ensuing Vivace. That second of two movements
seems almost to become a double concerto, percussionist Ed Scull proving just
as fine a soloist in all but name. LaFollette’s rendition of the lengthy
cadenza seemed as convincing as the material would permit; it is difficult not
to think it too long, but that is not his fault. Despite an interesting
introductory conversation between Donald Macleod and Roxanna Panufnik, I cannot
say that I was won over to the composer’s cause. For all the talk of
restricting socialist realism prior to emigration, that is just what the music
sounded like. Indeed, it was difficult to reconcile its style and language with
the date of composition. The performances, though, were impressive indeed.
A less welcome introduction
was offered to Nikolai Myaskovsky’s Twenty-seventh (!) Symphony. Bumbling and
frankly amateurish, the speaker concerned, however genuine his enthusiasm,
would have been better advised to let the music speak for itself. (Still, that
is hardly unusual in the world of such introductions.) Once again, however,
Zeffman and the Melos Sinfonia gave committed performances, woodwind and brass
perhaps especially impressive, but that is probably as much a matter of the
opportunities granted them to shine as anything else. Again, this is no
masterpiece, but one can hardly complain about having been given an opportunity
to hear it, for this was its first London performance. (Apparently, there had
been one prior British performance, at Dartington.) The interest in such works
seems more autobiographical, partly a result of outdated Cold War attitudes,
rather than æsthetic, but we need to hear them occasionally to appreciate that,
and it is certainly no weaker than many a Shostakovich symphony. Perhaps
surprisingly – or perhaps not – Bruckner came to mind in the slow movement, not
only harmonically but even structurally. The apparent influence of, or at least
kinship with, Glazunov was less welcome. (I was put in mind of Stravinsky’s
recollection of the 1907 premiere of his early Symphony in E-flat major: ‘The
only bad omen was Glazunov, who came to me afterward, saying, “Very nice, very
nice.”’ Whatever the shortcomings of the work, though, this was a highly enterprising
and successful performance. These are clearly an orchestra and conductor who
merit our attention.
