The ‘night vigil’ Passacaglia movement of the Shostakovich Violin Concerto No. 1 (1947/1955) is a concentrated prayer full of tension and darkly muttered thoughts – a kind of lyricism yes, but one that is febrile with fear. The young Australian violinist, Ray Chen, plumbed its depths with deep concentration, opening up its soulful reflection with a strong pure line. How apt that this movement seems to open up a discourse with Shostakovich’s good friend, Benjamin Britten and his Violin Concerto (1939), communing across the epochs so to speak.
The progression from this the heart of the work to the amazing Burlesque fourth movement was handled with rich energy, soaring on high, slashing into the music’s rising anger, into its hard-won survival. Though thoughts of suicide flicker across this slow movement – vitality returns, in the end – anger transformed into skittish rebellion. The whirlwind of the last movement was extraordinary, we the audience almost gasping with disbelief at the technical armoury and language of both composer and executant.
The darkness and light of the 20th century seems to reside in this work. It is prickly,s angular music that makes the violin sing itself into a physical incandescence, coruscating across the stave with technical brilliance that is always linked to soulful reflection – almost staging an eastern European verbunkos within its underlying personality.
The slashing sounds of the second movement scherzo were both fierce and finessed – around the patented appellation of “DSCh – its psychotic force demanding our stunned attention. The musical journey that this work substantiates is a wide ranging one, the opening movement begins in a wintery sound scape – though its nocturnal aspects explore a tentative melodic line as though feeling for its warmth. The line is exposed, but not in any traditional virtuosic sense, and requires a clear sound that moderates with each mood change. This Chen achieved with distinction. Ashkenazy lead the inspired forces of the Sydney Symphony Orchestra with passion and insight ensuring exacting support for the soloist.
The concert commenced with the SSO’s first performance of the “Passacaglia” from Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk (1934) which unleashed a barrage of orchestral pain that then settles into the grind of the passacaglia, which builds slowly but inexorable into a near restatement of the opening chaos – repetition and variation grinding inexorably on as though the brutality unleashes its own reverberations that summon forth patterns of related energy.
The Fifth Symphony (1937) followed after interval. This was starkly beautiful its structure weighted by Ashkenazy in a way that amplified the finely carved nature of its building blocka – almost Russian neo-classicism but with nothing dry or desiccated in its sound world. The third movement, Largo, was surely paced, brooding forth its waves of intense emotion. The percussive forces were remarkably simpatico. The harps, celeste and piano play significant roles in this score, as though representing the composer’s deepest benediction – all was soft and slow, struck with latent symphony. The end to the first movement Moderato is steeped in a hushed intensity that lingers in the air before the interruption of the nervous yet raucous energy of the Allegretto.
It is hard to hear the final Allegro non troppo without listening to the ambiguity, angst and despair that lurks in its fortissimo ending. The ability of Shostakovich to bring forth bell like rejoicing underpinned by a savage dark doubt always thrills, in the sense of both exhilaration and fear.
This was a strong performance that minted freshly the works craft and energy, its power and humour, its rugged grandeur. Ashkenazy makes us rejoice in all these facets. It is always thrilling to see massed brass intoning Shostakovich – and to see the double basses dig into their melody, to watch flute and harp foretell the end of time with their nihilistic sadness. To see and hear all this, including the vast array of percussion that seems to summon the will to live, is to exist in the sound world of a great symphonist.
Ashkenazy's no nonsense approach to conducting always pays dividends. He builds cumulative power within clearly defined structures – with a wide ranging tonal palette. He always delivers clarity and strength. His understanding of Shostakovich is profound.
Sydney Symphony Orchestra– Concert Hall, Sydney Opera House – November 10, 2017
Gar Jones
The progression from this the heart of the work to the amazing Burlesque fourth movement was handled with rich energy, soaring on high, slashing into the music’s rising anger, into its hard-won survival. Though thoughts of suicide flicker across this slow movement – vitality returns, in the end – anger transformed into skittish rebellion. The whirlwind of the last movement was extraordinary, we the audience almost gasping with disbelief at the technical armoury and language of both composer and executant.
The darkness and light of the 20th century seems to reside in this work. It is prickly,s angular music that makes the violin sing itself into a physical incandescence, coruscating across the stave with technical brilliance that is always linked to soulful reflection – almost staging an eastern European verbunkos within its underlying personality.
The slashing sounds of the second movement scherzo were both fierce and finessed – around the patented appellation of “DSCh – its psychotic force demanding our stunned attention. The musical journey that this work substantiates is a wide ranging one, the opening movement begins in a wintery sound scape – though its nocturnal aspects explore a tentative melodic line as though feeling for its warmth. The line is exposed, but not in any traditional virtuosic sense, and requires a clear sound that moderates with each mood change. This Chen achieved with distinction. Ashkenazy lead the inspired forces of the Sydney Symphony Orchestra with passion and insight ensuring exacting support for the soloist.
The concert commenced with the SSO’s first performance of the “Passacaglia” from Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk (1934) which unleashed a barrage of orchestral pain that then settles into the grind of the passacaglia, which builds slowly but inexorable into a near restatement of the opening chaos – repetition and variation grinding inexorably on as though the brutality unleashes its own reverberations that summon forth patterns of related energy.
The Fifth Symphony (1937) followed after interval. This was starkly beautiful its structure weighted by Ashkenazy in a way that amplified the finely carved nature of its building blocka – almost Russian neo-classicism but with nothing dry or desiccated in its sound world. The third movement, Largo, was surely paced, brooding forth its waves of intense emotion. The percussive forces were remarkably simpatico. The harps, celeste and piano play significant roles in this score, as though representing the composer’s deepest benediction – all was soft and slow, struck with latent symphony. The end to the first movement Moderato is steeped in a hushed intensity that lingers in the air before the interruption of the nervous yet raucous energy of the Allegretto.
It is hard to hear the final Allegro non troppo without listening to the ambiguity, angst and despair that lurks in its fortissimo ending. The ability of Shostakovich to bring forth bell like rejoicing underpinned by a savage dark doubt always thrills, in the sense of both exhilaration and fear.
This was a strong performance that minted freshly the works craft and energy, its power and humour, its rugged grandeur. Ashkenazy makes us rejoice in all these facets. It is always thrilling to see massed brass intoning Shostakovich – and to see the double basses dig into their melody, to watch flute and harp foretell the end of time with their nihilistic sadness. To see and hear all this, including the vast array of percussion that seems to summon the will to live, is to exist in the sound world of a great symphonist.
Ashkenazy's no nonsense approach to conducting always pays dividends. He builds cumulative power within clearly defined structures – with a wide ranging tonal palette. He always delivers clarity and strength. His understanding of Shostakovich is profound.
Sydney Symphony Orchestra– Concert Hall, Sydney Opera House – November 10, 2017
Gar Jones