Royal Festival Hall
Gottfried Huppertz, arr. Frank Strobel: Score to Fritz Lang, Metropolis, with screening of film
Gottfried Huppertz, arr. Frank Strobel: Score to Fritz Lang, Metropolis, with screening of film
Philharmonia Orchestra
Frank Strobel (conductor)
An interesting evening – alas,
the only one I shall be able to attend – from the Philharmonia’s Weimar season,
‘Bittersweet Metropolis’. To see Fritz Lang’s celebrated film, Metropolis, not only on the large screen
but including sections rediscovered in Argentina in 2008, offered fascination
in itself. The plot may be absurdly sentimental, but the direction and cinematography
are often breathtaking: no wonder the film’s costs were never covered. Crowd
scenes alone would be worth the prize of ambition. Lang’s combination of Expressionism
and wide-eyed urbanism retains just enough of the counter-intuitive to afford
an interest extending beyond the merely ‘historical’. It remains, moreover, just
about possible to relish the elements of class struggle, however naïvely
presented, without falling for the false reconciliation of the close (or, for
that matter, the workers’ all too ready descent into a vengeful mob). It is what
it is; different ages and different audiences will most likely continue to discover
new standpoints.
What, then, of the live
performance of Gottfried Huppertz’s score, the true occasion for this showing? The
Philharmonia generally seemed in its element, a few moments of imprecision
notwithstanding. All that glitters may not be gold, but there was plenty of
gold and glitter here, with a warmth of string tone it would have been
difficult not to characterise as German. That was aided, of course, by the score
itself – although what ‘itself’ means here, given the role of conductor, Frank
Strobel, in its ‘arrangement’ is not clear. (I could find no information on
that in the programme.) I suspect that it might often have been more incisively
conducted; faults, however, seemed primarily to lie with what was being
conducted. After a while, Huppertz’s music becomes all too predictable: the
sort of thing that gives ‘leitmotif’ a bad name. Swathes of repetition do no particular
harm as background to viewing of the film, but the formulaic musical
contribution betokens no masterpiece. Decidedly sub-Straussian attempts to
climax; attempts at something more generically ‘modern’, if hardly modernist,
for urban scenes; much that at best strains toward the likes of Korngold: one
can hear where it might lead in later film music, and that is probably where the
greater part of its interest will remain.