Benedetti plays Mendelssohn

City Halls, Glasgow 27/2/26

Scottish Chamber Orchestra; Maxim Emelyanychev (conductor); Nicola Benedetti (violin)

  https://www.sco.org.uk/events/benedetti-plays-mendelssohn/

 The second of two outings of a “basket of goodies” programme presented by the Scottish Chamber Orchestra under their Principal Conductor Maxim Emelyanychev was on Friday 27th  February in Glasgow’s City Halls.  The headline act, Nicola Benedetti as soloist in Mendelssohn’s glorious Violin Concerto, was the filling in a Brahms sandwich, the ragamuffin student hi-jinks of the Academic Festival Overture contrasting with the grandeur and gravitas of the Fourth Symphony.  Following a fully-booked Usher Hall the night before, the Glasgow venue was almost to capacity, with the choir balcony pressed into service.  Principal second violinist Marcus Barcham Stevens introduced the programme, which was recorded for future broadcast on BBC Radio 3.

After an 11-year stint as an educator in the UAE and as a bridge to becoming fully GTCS-registered, I worked for a year st Glenalmond College in Perthshire, which has a fine music department.  Thus I found myself playing the second violin part of the Academic Festival Overture in the school orchestra in a concert in 2000.  It’s far from easy, but an absolute hoot to play.  Most of the melodies are irreverent student drinking songs, scored augustly and beefily (but under thinly veiled protest) by Brahms, tricked into writing the 1880 piece in “gratitude” for being awarded an honorary doctorate from the Prussian university of Breslau (now Wroclaw in Poland).  The SCO was at its most fully augmented strength for this first work on the programme, with piccolo, contrabassoon, tuba, bass drum, cymbals and triangle added to the full-size classical orchestra.  Four double basses were ranged at the back, endowing the orchestral sound with additional grunt.  Presented with a “huvtae”, Brahms was determined to gave fun discharging it.  It would be rude indeed not to have fun playing it, as if the SCO ever would.  The ‘chamber’ aesthetic manifested in the whimsical interplay and festive mood, rather than any economy of scoring.  Maxim Emelyanychev exhorted the maximum jollity from his willing accomplices and the result was a joyous romp and a perfect concert opener.  Impossible not to be swept up in its high spirits, but I’m glad to report that I managed to refrain from singing along with Perry Como’s ‘Catch a Falling Star’.  The cheery coda, ‘Gaudeamus igitur’, let us believe that, despite majoring in Bierkeller Studies, the students have miraculously graduated.  Mortar boards in the air.  Excellent.

Back to chamber orchestra forces for the concerto.  Mendelssohn’s opens in E-minor and some soloists (notably Nicola Benedetti’s mentor Yehudi Menuhin) have taken that as an invitation to melodrama.  I don’t buy that and I am delighted to say neither does Nicola.  Melancholy-tinged sweet-toned lyricism poured from her Gariel Strad and filled the hall with a “song without words”, with phrasing that drew the listener into the romantic narrative.  The second subject in the relative G-major seemed more like another facet of the same personality as a result, supported by lovely dialogue with flutes and clarinets.  The cadenza was virtuosic and thrilling with absolutely flawless intonation, seamlessly steered to the recapitulation by gorgeous wind playing.  The accelerating coda was as exciting as I have heard.  The slow movement’s idyllic main theme (repurposed as ‘I don’t know how to love him’ in Lloyd-Webber’s ‘Jesus Christ Superstar’) received rich unforced cantabile phrasing and tone, reminding this listener of the important ‘third’ partnership in concerto playing, that of soloist and instrument .  Delicious.  A mood of mutual consolation seemed to permeate the two anxious minor-key episodes, calm and contentment restored in the soaring sweet final cadence.  Deliciously melancholic sighing with teasing rubato in the bridge passage allowed the most seasoned concert-goer wonder what was coming.  The playful light-hearted finale glittered with effervescent jollity.  Despite the fast tempo, not one iota of detail was lost and I found it exhilarating from start to finish.  The cellos’ glorious counter-melody in the last iteration of the rondo theme glowed radiantly, as they evidently enjoyed every note   The gleeful coda was no less deliciously thrilling.  Full marks from me.

In the Fourth Symphony, Brahms’ E-minor has elements of melodrama, tragedy and struggle and I never tire of the experience of losing myself in the ingeniously-wrought development sections of its modified sonata-form first and second movements.  Maxim Emelyanychev built the sense of an organically unfolding narrative, dominated by inexorable Fate and dramatic tension.  The orchestra responded with playing that delivered an open texture perfectly matched to the acoustic of the City Halls, with none of the turgidity that turns many right off Brahms.  The sense of mystery at the end of the development before the recapitulation was magical.  Given Brahms’ lukewarm attitude to Bruckner, it is surprising that in both First and Second movements of the Fourth, he uses the very Brucknerian trope of starting the recapitulation mid-phrase, as if emulating a “meanwhile” chapter in a novel.  The slow movement’s rich counterpoint was presented with precision and clarity that made it all the more appreciable.  The cellos shone again with their big tune: “Little boy kneels at the foot of the stairs; Christopher Robin is saying his prayers”.  Glorious.  Brahms generously gave it to the violins in the recapitulation.  The Scherzo benefitted from a tempo choice that matched the players’ skills to the acoustic perfectly.  The second theme (“All things bright and beautiful”) grinned at its own ingenuity.  The fake slower Trio is abandoned, snatched away from the horns as soon as begun, for another dash at the wild Scherzo and a gleeful coda.  The mighty Passacaglia finale reasserted the gravitas, with sustained dramatic tension and playing to match.  André Cebrián’s sobbing flute variation was wonderfully intense.  The chorale of three trombones offered gentle consolation.  When the storm returned, the sense of inexorability was built wonderfully, the hope of a ‘happy ending’ was snatched away and the drive to the grim conclusion was magnificent.  A fine reading of Brahms’ angst-ridden masterpiece with top-drawer playing from the orchestra.  Top quality Brahms.