Auckland
Chamber Orchestra
Soloist
Ben Hoadley
Directed
by Peter Scholes
Holst:
Brook Green Suite
Shostakovich:
Chamber Symphony Op.110a
Taylor:
Bassoon Concerto
Bartok:
Music for Strings, Percussion and Celeste
23 November 2014, Raye Freedman Arts Centre
Review
by Sarah Ballard
The
Auckland Chamber Orchestra certainly produces some of the most
nourishing classical music programmes in Auckland. In years past,
director Peter Scholes has programmed a delightful set of New Zealand
composer portraits, Dutch composer Michael Van Der Aa’s revelatory
Mask for ensemble and electronics, and earlier this year ACO
delved into crossover with award winning songstress Maisey Rika. This
is hardly representational of the range of works that the orchestra
has programmed, but these examples show an ensemble that does not
subside into any predictable course of action or routine. On Sunday
it seemed circumstances had aligned to allow Scholes to stretch to
new and innovative heights: on this occasion a “dream” programme
of Holst, Shostakovich, Bartok and a collaboration between bassoonist
Ben Hoadley and composer Alex Taylor. More often than not, ACO seems
to meet this balance of new works and reverence of repertoire greats.
This
early evening affair was met with a sense of elation amidst the warm
spring air as patrons gathered at the Raye Freedman Arts Centre.
Holst’s Brook Green Suite maintained the collective sunny
demeanour, with string orchestra launching into the piece with great
sprite, vibrantly led by concertmaster Miranda Adams. Pastoral charm
was illustrated with liquid silk bowings, effectively conveying the
rustic lushness of the second movement. Robert Ashworth's cascading
viola line was passed seamlessly and sumptuously over into the
bowings of cellist James Tennant, providing the most engaging sonic
moment within the piece. The race to the finish was executed with
panache, and received enthusiastic applause from a reasonably full
audience.
In
retrospect the Holst seemed the misfit of the programme. One can only
assume that it was included in order to fill out time, a neatly
packaged morsel. Nevertheless, the decision to place this piece first
on the programme was well judged, so as not to intrude upon the fine
musical triptych the following pieces formed.
With
tam-tam and harp beckoning onstage in deserted spaces, Shostakovich's
musical cryptogram, DSCH, permeated the hall. In this acoustic Adams'
foreboding violin solo was more sterile than singing, over an arid
bass drone. However she delivered dagger accents with conviction and
stringency, but struggled to get the cooperation of the rest of the
section. Scholes shaped the dramatic impetus of the work with
careful dynamic shading and gentle, free-flowing gestures. The
orchestra responded with sardonically nasal earwig trills crawling in
and out of earshot, the crackle of bow friction on string and a
loitering drone devoid of vibrato, all realised with admirable
sensitivity.
It
took us so far away from where we all were at that particular moment
. The performance succeeded in transporting me as the listener,
lifting me out of my context from there in front of the stage. The
performers effectively painted the musical juxtapositions which were
so important as driving forces of the piece. The ensemble was left
decaying on open strings; James Tennant looked truly
moved, hanging off an open C as if trying to expel all the anguish of
the piece.
The
most captivating part of the concert was Alex Taylor’s eagerly
anticipated Bassoon Concerto. Soloist Ben Hoadley appeared
gallantly onstage with bassoon at the ready, in striking attire to
match vertical stripes of crimson red at the backdrop. Labelled as
five distinct movements: ‘heave, shuffle, trudge, jolt and roam’,
these terms certainly outline a journey of sorts, as mentioned by
composer in the programme note. It is a journey mapped out across an
emotive terrain, one that the listener senses intensely from the
narrative of the protagonist bassoon and its interaction with the
orchestra, essentially humanising the instrument. Taylor has for some
time had a strong and independent voice, but this piece covers new
ground. It is unquestionably still his music, but at the same time
there has been a development in musical language, a different sort of
expressivity and approach to colour that one could begin to hear in
[inner] (2011), for viola and orchestra.
A
broad, looming pianissimo chord introduced us to ‘heave’, the
composer having taken great care to balance each element. We were
then mesmerised and captured, with ritualistic resounding rumbles
from low double bass and bass drum and the shimmer of high divisi
strings, gliding atop a sonic gulf. Tense, metallic pangs of
xylophone announced the arrival of the bassoon, slimy and serpentine,
crawling out of the depths of the lower frequencies of the ensemble,
and seeping in and out of the musical texture. Hoadley relished in
the virtuosic burst of ‘shuffle’, his bassoon line shimmying at
the beck and call of the ensemble. At the composer’s most sensitive
of writing, and protagonist’s most vulnerable state, Hoadley
sounded the most gloriously dulcet high tones, this one of many
instances within the work that demonstrated the composer's talent for
great colouristic control. Taylor kept the listener enchanted with
sublime and intense sensory moments, the opening chord of ‘roam’
seeming to contain the whole world within it.
By
the end of this journey I wasn’t sure where we had wound up. The
musical trajectory had seemed so perfectly paced up until the second
cadenza near the end of the piece. In context, the way the material
of this cadenza was presented felt unfamiliar and somewhat out of
place considering the lush, emotive writing style that characterised
the rest of the piece. However, one can feel quite dissatisfied when
a piece ends with a sense of predictability. The unanswered question
left in the clearing in this instance made a lasting impression, and
piqued plenty of curiosity to warrant reconnecting with the piece in
future to retrace this transformative journey. In performance the
piece was so engrossing that it did not seem to take up its 25-minute
duration, a sign of a well-crafted and cohesive work. It was also
striking how effectively integrated the bassoon part was into the
material of the ensemble, a special achievement of this concerto.
Taylor has contributed a brilliant and sensitive new work to the
bassoon repertoire.
Post-interval,
the performance of Bartok’s Concerto for Strings, Percussion and
Celeste may have suffered somewhat from ambitious programming. It
was clear here that Scholes had a different agenda in his conducting.
Rigorous and more demanding of players, the focus was on keeping the
more rhythmic sections together and expression seemed to be lost as a
result. Accuracy and intonation were often an issue and the
mechanistic material did not always come off. However the ensemble
redeemed itself, evoking opulence in the final Allegro, along with a
compelling cello solo from Tenant. For all its insecurities with the
repertoire, the ensemble made up for it with enthusiasm and
professionalism. This concert marked a brilliant end to the ACO
season and highlighted a noble undertaking in bringing some
exceptionally fine repertoire to the fore.
