Grosser Saal, Mozarteum
Serenade in D major, KV 239, ‘Serenata notturna’
Quintet for piano, oboe, clarinet, horn, and bassoon in E-flat major, KV 452
Symphony no.38 in D major, KV 504, ‘Prague’
Isabelle Unterer (oboe)
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| Image: SF/Marco Borrelli |
Making his debut with the Salzburg Mozarteum Orchestra, Maxim Emelyanchev offered three works by Mozart, each in three movements, appearing as conductor from the harpsichord, fortepianist, and conductor without keyboard. Not everyone can offer such versatility, nor indeed would wish to, but the results were generally enjoyable, although the combination of period piano and modern wind instruments in the E-flat Quintet, KV 452, proved ill-advised. Adding further complication to a slightly confusing postmodern mélange, Emelyanchev offered various performing styles within the concert, moving from a more ‘period’ approach in the Serenata notturna to a more ‘traditional’ Prague Symphony, the intervening Quintet at times strangely improvisatory. Much of the audience seemed to love it; the orchestra seemed enthused too. It at least offered something for all the family.
The March that opens the serenade was certainly martial, though it lost something in the longer line and was arguably more unrelentingly four-square than it need have been. Some of the colours were a delight, string pizzicato offering only one such example, though the sheer aggression of tutti passages, especially those with timpani, seemed to me out of keeping. A rigorous, bracing minuet was given cultivated contrast in the sweet-toned trio, which relaxed without actual relaxation of tempo. The finale similarly offered excellent playing, the brief central ‘Adagio’ section at least avoiding undue astringency, and the final ‘Allegro’ a fine sense of release.
Following a self-absorbed piano lead-in, the first movement of the Quintet set the scene, both for good and less good, for what would follow. It emerged as ‘interesting’ rather than great music, the lack of harmonic rhythm a serious problem, and strange balance helping neither underpowered keyboard, sometimes compelled to forcing of tone to be heard, nor wind who, in such company and despite excellent playing, tended to sound overly bright. The ‘Larghetto’ was at least more long-breathed, but likewise suffered from the lack of a fundamental pulse. Maybe it was a case of my ears having adjusted, but the third movement proved the most convincing of the three, a concerto finale in not-so-miniature, harmony and counterpoint allied to more purposeful direction.
Returning to D major, the Prague Symphony received what was in many ways a surprisingly unmannered performance, mutual sympathy rewarded in both directions. Natural brass (horns and trumpets) were used, which contributed to the overall sense of pick-and-mix, especially in combination with noticeably more modern-sounding timpani than had been employed for the Serenata notturna, but a few rasping noises aside, they did not distract. A broad introduction – certainly when compared with performers coming from a similar standpoint – set the scene for a first movement with a considerably stronger sense of harmonic rhythm than anything heard previously. Emelyanchev’s tendency to wave his arms around too much might visually irritate, but it did not necessarily transfer into what we heard. When he slowed in preparation for the second group, it was an ‘interventionist’ moment no one listening could have missed, but it made sense, irrespective of whether one happened to approve. Doing precisely the same thing for the repeat arguably detracted from the effect, but even Daniel Barenboim has been known to repeat a little too obviously an agogic adjustment or tempo variation, so I think we can readily forgive that.
The Andante flowed nicely without being fashionably harried and/or divested of its profound, emotional content. Indeed, its darkness came to the surface with apparent naturalness, as opposed to being imposed from without. Again, that can only be the case through harmony, which, if it not key to Mozart, Haydn, and Beethoven, it is not key to anyone at all. (The number of fashionable conductors today who fail to appreciate that is, sadly, at an all-time high.) Woodwind once more shone, but in an unassuming – one might say quintessentially Bohemian – way, as if inheriting the mantle of the players for whom the work was written. The finale was taken fast, very fast: to my ears, too fast, more Prestissimo rather than Presto, as if the point were to take it as fast as possible. It is not a matter of speed as such, but rather of giving the music space to breathe; Mozart rarely if ever calls for speed in the way that Haydn (or Mendelssohn) does. A strong sense of harmonic rhythm was here diminished, although the music was not arbitrarily pulled around as some might. The Mozarteum Orchestra’s playing was excellent throughout.
