Wagner, Wallin, Brahms, Grieg
The Bergen Philharmonic had not yet started its season when I was staying across the street from its home at the end of last Summer. No worries, they’ve come to me, with guest conductor Juanjo Mena and the incomparable Håkan Hardenberger on the trumpet(s).
I probably would not have chosen this concert, but it was part of my Wednesday subscription series (tomorrow is a more promising program, and I’ll go back for that). At least it began and ended well, and even the long slog through the middle was well-performed. This orchestra has a wonderfully complete lyrical sound, with solo lines to augment the point (but never outshine the whole). Particularly soulful solos came from the concertmistress (who I think went to Exeter several years before I did), oboe, and principal horn. Mena had a wonderful sense of sound-shaping, as though forming clay and breathing life into it.
Wagner‘s Flying Dutchman was of course set on the Norwegian coast, so I suppose it was fitting to open the set with the overture, a study in character contrasts as performed here. The excitement vanished in a hurry, however, for Rolf Wallin‘s Trumpet Concerto, The Fisher King. I suppose a legend about a wounded king sitting on the banks of a river waiting for fish to bite is never going to be the stuff of high drama (although it could be mystical – Wolfram von Eschenbach’s version had the story evolve into Amfortas, leading to Wagner’s portrayal in Parsifal). Wallin’s music also just sat there, throbbing along, periodically interrupted by a spasm in the orchestra, and with virtuosity throughout by Hardenberger (for whom Wallin wrote this piece in 2011). Wallin designated it a “trumpet” concerto, but he should have called it a “trumpets” concerto, as it required two (not an issue for the versatile Hardenberger).
Ironically, Wallin’s concerto set up the second half of the concert well: the first symphony by Johannes Brahms. The great conductor Hans von Bülow referred to this as “Beethoven’s Tenth.” Brahms understood that as a compliment, but in reality it was an indication of how unoriginal Brahms was, since coming half a century after Beethoven’s Ninth, the music really should have progressed (indeed, in many respects, Brahms regressed). Brahms mastered symphonic technique, but just did not add anything (those few emotional works when he dropped his inhibitions, such as his Requiem and a handful of shorter pieces, demonstrated that Brahms could do original, he just usually did not want to). Like the Wallin concerto, this opened with a throbbing pulsating rhythm, and then just moved along (certainly more musical than Wallin, and the orchestra had enough moments to shine with it, but… Brahms).
Bergen-born Edvard Grieg had been the music director of this orchestra in the 1880s, and so we naturally got two encores excerpted from his incidental music for Peer Gynt – “Åse’s death” and “In the hall of the mountain king” – the first with sumptuous lush strings, the second full of enthusiasm and smiles all around.
My lingering cough is now (mostly) better, but the acoustics in the Haus für Mozart are not. This evening I sat downstairs, center – I don’t remember sitting there before either, but it did not help. Tomorrow I’ll be up top, where I have been before and have found it reasonable, so maybe it’s only really passable all the way up there. I’ll confirm tomorrow.