Lyadov, Britten, Schostakowitsch
When I originally planned a vacation in Norway at this time, it did not occur to me that the new concert season would have opened yet. But it has (rather early), so I added a new venue to my collection – always nice to see how things are in other cities.
The Oslo Konserthus does not have a good reputation. It looks pleasant enough architecturally, but the acoustics are problematic. It actually has a bit of a feel of a school theater, if somewhat larger – the room feels smallist, but apparently seats 1600. They had a good age range, with lots of young people in a mostly-full hall (the chorus seats behind the orchestra were mostly empty, but the rest of the hall was pretty full).
Young British guest conductor Nicholas Collon on the podium with the Oslo Philharmonic Orchestra picked a much better concert program than he did when I first heard him with the Mozarteum Orchestra last December, and as good as the Mozarteum Orchestra has been sounding of late, the Oslo Philharmonic is better. So combined Collon and this orchestra produced just that much more nuance and buzz this evening.
The concert started with Anatoly Lyadov‘s Enchanted Lake – in a delicate and extremely mysterious opening. Partly that would seem to have been Collon’s intent – but when the music swelled I realized it was also partly the acoustics in this hall, which make the orchestra sound distant. Nevertheless, this performance revealed the dark side of nature, setting the mood for the dark side of man operating within nature to come.
The other two works on the program both dated to 1943, when the world was indeed dark. The first of these two was Benjamin Britten‘s Serenade for Tenor, Horns, and Strings, a rarely-performed piece which I first heard with the Camerata Salzburg about two years ago. A series of poems by English authors written over several centuries, they all focused on the theme of nighttime, with a longing introduction on horn and a pensive farewell performed hauntingly from off stage. The Orchestra’s alternate principal hornist Hongpark Kim did the honors, cracking a couple of notes early on but then becoming suitably soulfull. British tenor Andrew Staples had a pleasant enough voice, but his high tenor lacked the undertones and depth necessary for this piece.
After the intermission, Dmitri Schostakowitsch‘s Eighth Symphony picked up the horrors of war – the Russians had turned the tide and were chasing the Germans back, but it was still the Soviet Union. Collon had the strings open menacingly, and from there onwards the meaning was clear. The second row of the winds (including the horn section) was not as menacing as the rest of the Orchestra, but I wonder if this may have been the acoustics as well. When the Orchestra swelled to full volume, it was indeed loud enough – but still had the feel of coming from far away somewhere, which was certainly the hall. In the end, the orchestra faded out, coming full circle to Lyadov’s opening. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.