Kammermusiksaal, Philharmonie
Varèse: Octandre
Saed Haddad: Mirage, Mémoire, Mystère, for string quartet
Ravel: Trois Poèmes de Stéphane Mallarmé
Bach, arr. Benjamin: Canon & Fugue
Schoenberg: Chamber Symphony no.1, op.9
Anna Prohaska (soprano)
Ensemble Modern
George Benjamin (conductor)
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Image: © Fabian Schellhorn / Berliner Festspiele |
The first of two Musikfest Berlin Proms from
Anna Prohaska, Ensemble Modern, and George Benjamin offered music on a small
ensemble scale that proved anything but ‘small’ in terms of ambition and intensity,
nor of course achievement. A hallmark of all we heard was concentration, for
this was highly concentrated, often richly textured music, which also called
for – and seemed to receive – a high level of concentration from the audience
in Berlin’s Kammermusiksaal, the smaller of the two halls in its Philharmonie.
In Varèse’s Octandre, Christian Hommel’s oboe initially appeared to be searching—but searching for what? Ultimately for something piercing, impervious, something that gave the impression of always having been there, however recently discovered. Stravinskian echoes, above all of the Rite, yet also of Symphonies of Wind Instruments, did battle, though they were so familiar, so integrated, they were barely ghosts, more guests. Delphine Roche’s piccolo solo, when it came, suggested something more playful, yet ensemble response was implacable as ever, akin to seeing or rather hearing the same object from another standpoint, both of angle and distance. Yet there was difference in what we heard, for instance the duet between double bass and bassoon, spreading to the ensemble as a whole. Brass rightly took no prisoners. Varèse, not unlike Stravinsky himself, remained.
Saed Haddad, a Benjamin pupil, was represented by his Mirage, Mémoire, Mystère (2011-12), for string quartet, described as being for violin and string trio. That interests me, since I did not really make that distinction when listening. Perhaps I will next time, for I hope there will be a next time. A richly turbulent opening put me in mind right away of Schoenberg’s developing variation. Indeed, there were a few striking coincidences of pitch and harmony, though I suspect that is more that I was listening with Schoenberg in mind than intent or reference. Certainly, there was an emotional intensity to this single-movement work I can imagine that composer admiring. Its development, or transformation, was rhythmic too, through a kaleidoscope of related moods that, in retrospect, seemed to convey the broad overall progression of the title.
Prohaska joined the Ensemble, and Benjamin returned, for Ravel’s Trois poèmes de Stéphane Mallarmé, the work in which he most clearly approaches Schoenberg (Pierrot, though not only Pierrot), without ever sounding, nor indeed writing, ‘like’ him: not even in the extraordinary opening string harmonics of ‘Soupir’, here perfectly realised in performance. Ravel, at its most characteristic, seems perhaps more the destination than the starting-point, both instrumentally and vocally, yet a floated languor heard and felt, too precise for Debussy, and indeed quite unlike him in other ways too, could only ever have been Ravel’s. It was as if a Japanese engraving, with apologies for the orientalism, had come to life. ‘Placet futile’ proved, doubtless with similar danger on my part, a garden of delights, at times more animated, more heated even, though cooling beautifully too. Prohaska proved a vividly communicative soloists, really using the French words to shape and colour her line. ‘Surgi de la coupe et du bond’ presented flight and descent, movement and stasis, all art of a journey that chilled in timbre and harmony, yet also invited, whilst holding us at an almost sacral distance. ‘A rien expirer annonçant/Une rose dans les ténèbres.’ Some mysteries are both for us and not.
Benjamin’s 2007 Canon & Fugue arranges the ‘Canon alla Ottava’ and ‘Contrapunctus VII’ from Bach’s Art of Fugue for an unusual ensemble: flute (silent in the first movement), two horns, and string quartet (which can be expanded to smallish string orchestra). This is unquestionably modernist Bach, not necessarily in the line of, though surely with kinship to that of Schoenberg, Webern, Berio, and others. That sense of concentration was again apparent, indeed alive, in both movements, the sustaining power of horns (and other particular qualities) employed to excellent effect in the former. The Fugue was less frenetic and furious, though no less concentrated, early use of stopped horns and string pizzicato not only arresting but also seemingly aiding that transformation of tempo. There were many timbral delights and surprises, not least the way a combination of horn, violin, and viola sounded uncannily like an organ, yet this was always a way of hearing Bach.
So too, albeit at a greater distance, is
much of Schoenberg. It was fitting, then, to end with his First Chamber
Symphony, although this was the performance about which I had a few doubts. A
little more than fifteen years ago, I heard Pierre
Boulez conduct this same work in the same hall, with the Scharoun Ensemble
of players drawn from the Berlin Philharmonic. That struck me as an ideal performance,
but perhaps I was simply more used to the underlying assumptions and aesthetic.
Benjamin, I think, took the opening, once past the short introduction, not only
faster but at a speed at least to rival the earlier Boulez, of Domaine musical
vintage. One expects a bias towards wind in this version (as opposed to
Schoenberg’s two arrangements for full orchestra, where strings will tend to
dominate) yet, to begin with, that balance seemed somewhat exaggerated, even
harsh. The performance settled, yet Benjamin’s approach had the merit of reminding
us just what difficult music this can, and arguably should, be. Perhaps we have
allowed Schoenberg to mellow a little too much, in post-Siegfried-Idyll-manner.
When the music slowed, moreover, it really slowed. The scherzo section was urgent,
yet in character, that is not merely fast; character seemed to grow out of Schoenberg’s
instrumentation and use of those instruments, almost as much as his harmony. This
was Schoenberg on a coiled spring, which could nonetheless relax in the ‘slow
movement’. Moreover, the internal and external role played by fourths was
certainly to be heard, as if this were a matter of casing and inner mechanism. It
was another performance of concentrated riches, then, even if not always the
riches I had expected.
