CONCERT REVIEW: Cape Town Philharmonic Orchestra Autumn Symphony Concert. Bernhard Gueller (Conductor) and Leo de María (Piano). Mussorgsky: Scherzo in B Minor / Haydn: Symphony No.104 in D Major, “London” / Tchaikovsky: Piano Concerto No. 1 in B-flat Minor, Op. 23
ALBERT COMBRINK reviews
As I took my seat for the first of five Thursday concerts of the CPO’s autumn symphony season, I had a moment of great confusion, seeing a wooden box n the corner between the double basses and the trombones. Not a piano, and bigger than any celesta I know. An organ? Indeed. It was a portable Baroque console organ. I frantically ran through the programme again. What had I missed? Surely not in the Haydn Symphony, and definitely not in the Tchaikovsky Concerto. Maybe there’s some organ in the rather lesser-played little Mussorgsky piece opening the programme? No. It turns out the organ was already in place for the performances of Handel’s “Messiah” happening this Easter weekend. It gave a moment to reflect on just how much music happens in Cape Town at any given time, and how lucky we are to have enthusiastic audiences. The city hall was packed. The pre-concert-talk with John Woodland was packed – standing room only. The final dress rehearsal in the morning was also well attended. All this, on the night before a long weekend, is fantastic news.
Bernhard Gueller – appointed Conductor Laureate for Life – was at the helm of a concert which showed off our orchestra in a programme of poise and polish. Which, to translate, means they sounded fabulous. The programme opened with what seems to be the first Cape Town performance of a short work by Russian composer Modest Mussorgsky, the “Scherzo in B Minor”. A sprightly, upbeat little prelude, barely five minutes long, the work is charming and highly enjoyable. Mussorgsky might be known for darker themes – Boris Godunov’s grizzly tale or a witches’ sabbath in “Night on a Bald Mountain” – but his theatrical ability to conjure a bustling and joyful scene, was launched from the first note. Scurrying violin passages dominate the first section, and one immediately noticed the precision and clarity of attack in the strings.
Gueller had impressive control of the “hocket” patterns where different sections interlock big alternating chords in a syncopated effect that could easily have come unstuck in a large acoustic. These passages point back to the beginnings of the work as a piano sonata by the 19-year old composer, where the two hands would alternate block chords. In the middle section – the “trio” part of the ABA shape of the work – a sweet woodwind choir provided a gentle, almost rural contrast and the muted strings sounded cinematically beautiful. A lovely surprise. Short. Yes, very short, But sweet. Yes, very sweet. Given the weight of the rest of the programme, it was the perfect apéritif that hit the spot.
More Haydn, please!
The D major delight, which is Haydn’s final symphony, makes one wonder why Haydn does not feature more on concert programmes. Our orchestra is known for its steady diet of romantic symphonic repertoire from a century later than this work. Haydn is often viewed, and performed, as some kind of early Mozart. Just another classical composer on the way to Beethoven. However, his music is innovative and imaginative and repays delving into. No, one is not required to listen to all 104 symphonies, but when played like it was played this evening, surely it would inspire some to go and find some more.
The dark and dramatic opening of the work was perhaps a tad tentative for my taste. The opening has shades of the depiction of primal stillness – as in the opening of his big oratorio “The Creation”. What also struck me about the music, was how many seeds one could hear of music to come: the hanging angel chorus of the strings hint at Lohengrin or Traviata, the clarity of woodwind textures over a vast string landscape of Mahler, and the dramatic cadences that would fire up Beethoven. A library of seeds that grew into much of what we understand as the Western symphonic canon, was found here, at the end of the composer’s life-long exploration of this medium.
We are forever grateful to Haydn’s employer, Prince Nikolaus Esterhazy, for providing a space where Haydn could indulge his musical curiosity and experimentation to his heart’s content, and then, at the end of his career, travel to London at the invitation of the impresario Solomon. Here – for a healthy fee – he was lauded as a star, and given, as his canvas, the biggest orchestra in the world to date. Sixty musicians. Haydn’s heart must have leapt with joy, and that joy can be felt in this work.
The CPO presented the opening in a way that felt more serious rather than solemn; Gueller was immediately interested in exploring the colours and phrasing of this particular orchestra. The bigger orchestra gave Haydn an opportunity to explore textural complexity to a higher degree than before, and details in performance remained clear and in focus. I appreciated that, especially, the phrasing of the strings was detailed, precise and accurately executed. An ornament – appoggiatura (leaning note) , acciacatura (crushed note) or gruppetto (turn) – can easily turn sloppy when executed by 20 musicians at the same time, and concertmaster Farida Bacharova clearly had her squad on their toes.
I also felt that the Double Bass section was a distinct voice throughout – a combination of the players and Haydn’s ingenuity, no doubt. But the bass harmonies were clear and well-anchored throughout. What took me by surprise, was how the tympani extended the role (no pun intended) of the lower strings. Haydn himself played the tympani, and I felt that I noticed the contribution of the tympanist, in part, by how often I did not notice it. It was always there, re-enforcing the bass, and of course it provides rhythmic impetus by virtue of it being a percussion instrument – something that you literally hit to produce the sound. Christoph Müller really impressed with ever-present but unobtrusive contributions to this multicoloured symphony. Oboe and Bassoon solos in the slow movement were beautifully handled. What a joy to hear this symphony. The humour of the third movement brought a smile to the face: the hiccup, or interrupted sneeze or whatever image works for the listener, was quirky and genuinely humorous without becoming cartoonish.
Full weight of the romantic concerto
The concert placed the usual second-half symphony in the first half of the concert. It worked well to have the gentler sounds of the classical era earlier in the programme, then follow it with the full weight of the romantic concerto after the interval.
Tchaikovsky’s first piano concerto is so familiar, so beloved, and so often heard, that one tends to forget exactly what a feat it is to perform. It is an obstacle course of difficulties from first to last, and an exhausting athletic undertaking. The only time the pianist is not playing, is when they are pausing – twice in the entire work – to listen to the orchestra build up a head of steam powerful enough for them to unleash the most famously formidable piano cadenzas in the entire concerto repertoire.
Iconic thundering octaves are as much a requirement for this work as are a singing Chopin-esque cantabile. The pianist Leo de María met the technical and artistic demands of the work head-on, proving why he won the First Prize of the UNISA International Piano Competition in Pretoria in 2024, playing this exact piece in the final round. He has, of course, won many other prizes such as the Santa Cecilia, Antón García Abril, Ciutat de Xàtiva, Ciudade de Ferrol. The list goes on.
The opening explodes with the majestic four horns and then de María joins for the famous thundering opening chords. He immediately showed off a powerful sound that never turned percussive, but could ride the orchestral waves and be heard. Between him and Gueller, the piano was never overshadowed in any of the three movements, and the tricky hand-overs of sections between orchestra and soloists were handled masterfully. Not a glitch. Not one. And in a work of almost 40 minutes, that is a feat that one might overlook for sheer familiarity with recordings. Orchestral solos were memorable, in particular the flute, oboe and cello duets with the piano in the slow movement. My only nitpick with the pianist was in the opening material of the third movement: there is a lot going on in the right hand with semiquaver grace notes decorating the main melody. Personally, I like the grace notes to be crisp and clear, because soon afterwards the flute and oboe repeat the same material, and the articulation in that register is usually pretty clear. Whether it was the acoustic, the sheer noise coming off the stage or de María’s desire to only emphasise the broader melodic contour, is anybody’s guess.
I noticed it, but it did not detract from enjoyment of a performance which rang all the bells. I also enjoyed de María’s interest in exploring the counterpoint techniques Tchaikovsky uses. When one plays this work, it is astounding to notice how complex this harmonic writing is, with themes broken up, divided between the hands, melody and counter-melody in the same hand, etc. Tchaikovsky had clearly learnt his harmony lessons well at the St. Petersburg Conservatory with the strict and rather old-fashioned Nikolai Zaremba, not to mention the even more conservative Anton Rubinstein, who initially hated this concerto and considered it a disastrous flop. I love it when the critics are proven wrong!
The encore was “Malagueña” from “Suite Andalucía” (1933) by Cuban composer Ernesto Lecuona, one of those wonderful composer-pianists who straddles the grey area between classical music and the dance floor. The virtuoso show-piece was performed with ease and a healthy blend of quasi-flamenco flair and technical discipline, which bodes well for his upcoming recital for the Cape Town Concert Series on Wednesday 8 April, at the Ian Burghess-Simpson Piano Studio, which will include works by Liszt and Schumann from his latest solo CD and some more Spanish flair with Granados.
WS
