Hall One, Kings Place
Bartók – Seven pieces from ‘Mikrokosmos’, for two pianos, four hands, Sz.108
Sonata for two pianos and
percusson, Sz.110
Stravinsky – The Soldier’s Tale
Florian Mitrea, Alexandra
Vaduva (piano)
Tom Lee, Paul Stoneman,
Oliver Butterworth (percussion)
Kate Suthers (violin)
Felix Lashmar (double bass)
Leonie Bluett (clarinet)
Hannah Rankin (bassoon)
Matthew Williams (trumpet)
Elliot Pooley (trombone)
What a treat, to hear not
just one but two of Bartók’s two-piano works, followed by The Soldier’s Tale, especially in excellent performances from Royal
Academy students! Florian Mitrea and Alexandra Vaduva followed in the hallowed footsteps
of Bartók himself and his wife, Ditta Pásztory. Mitrea and Vaduva conjured up from the start a sound that
was recognisably Bartókian and of the ‘two piano’ variety: a banal observation,
perhaps, but not, I think, one that goes entirely without saying. Both
musicians, whether individually or together, offered clear delineation of lines,
without sacrificing the spirit of the music. Stravinsky, Petruskha in particular, seemed to be echoed in ‘Chord Study’, the
second of the Seven Pieces from ‘Mikrokosmos’,
Mitrea imparting nicely shimmering tone where required. The following ‘Perpetuum
Mobile’ was urgent, without running away; indeed, performances were admirably
controlled throughout. The Music for Strings,
Percussion, and Celesta and the Sonata for two pianos and percussion both seemed
to be presaged in ‘Staccato and Legato’, after which the ecstatic lyricism and harmony of the ‘New Hungarian
Folksong’ came both as intensification and contrast. A fine sense of rhythm and
style ensured that the final ‘Ostinato’ registered as a true conclusion.
The Sonata itself followed,
for which the pianists, now able fully to unleash their virtuosity, were joined
by Tom Lee and Paul Stoneman, whose musicianship and execution proved every bit
their partners’ equal. (If only we had a recording from the Bartóks!) There was
never any doubt, from the wonderfully ominous opening, that we were dealing
with a towering masterpiece. Co-ordination was impeccable, throughout a wide –
and meaningful – dynamic range. If Vaduva’s piano contribution was often,
though by no means always, more on the percussive side, then that is a
perfectly valid choice to have made. The final, fugal section of that first
movement was highly incisive, antiphonal writing coming across with admirable
clarity. That opening to the second
movement, quite unlike anything else I know, registered with the astonishment
that it should, a credit to both percussionists. Night music wove its magic. Again,
unanimity of ensemble was highly impressive throughout. The finale was
exultant, though far from unambiguously so.
A new group of musicians,
joined by Harriet Walter and conducted by Simon Wright, gave us a splendid
performance of The Soldier’s Tale. I
was not always entirely sure about the new English version of the narration – I
could not find a credit – but contemporary references to a ‘current account’
and the like did not jar too much. At any rate, Walter’s contribution captured
the attention, gamely alternating between characters and properly adhering to
the dictates of metre. Stravinsky’s miraculous score emerged in pungent,
mordant fashion, properly poised between ‘Russian’ colour and neo-Classical
desiccation, a forerunner indeed to both Mavra
and the Octet, as well as the more obvious Symphonies of Wind Instruments. There was a keen sense of dialogue and confrontation between the
instruments; again, the music really sounded as if it were by Stravinsky, which
again, is not a quality to be taken for granted. Dances were well
characterised, the Tango darkly erotic. If Kate Suthers’s excellent rendition
of the violin part necessarily rendered her first amongst instrumental equals,
there was not a weak link in the ensemble, directed with a fine ear for metre
and colour by Wright.
