City Halls, Glasgow 6/11/26
Scottish Chamber Orchestra, Andrew Manze (conductor), Amalie Stalheim (cello)
The second of two outings for the Scottish Chamber Orchestra in “an eloquent programme that spans centuries and styles, from Nordic refinement to Russian Romanticism”, under their Principal Guest Conductor Andrew Manze, was on the night of Friday 6th November in Glasgow’s City Halls. The headline work concluding the programme was Tchaikovsky’s lyrically tuneful Serenade for Strings. Graceful lyricism also opened the programme with 20th-century Swede Lars-Erik Larsson’s 1966 ‘Lyric Fantasy’. Two works for solo cello and orchestra, with Norwegian cellist Amalie Stalheim as soloist, straddled the interval: Swedish composer Anders Hillborg’s 2020 Cello Concerto and Tchaikovsky’s elegant Rococo Variations. After the reduced orchestra of the Larsson score had tuned, Eric De Wit of the 4-strong cello section stepped forward to introduce the programme. From my vantage in the very sparsely-occupied balcony, attendance seemed rather modest.
Scored for single winds and horn plus strings, the Larsson opened with shifting string chords that gave the impression of slow relaxed breathing. A modal melody for horn was picked up by flute, oboe and clarinet and put me in mind of the wistful lyricism of Samuel Barber. As the texture broadened out, the sound world of Vaughan Williams was more closely recalled. The open clarity of the counterpoint and the turn of phrase endings hinted at Carl Nielsen. Those are three composers whose music I adore and regard as a go-to for wellbeing and mood enhancement. So I can but add Larsson to that list: warmly engaging, truthful music that meets the listener halfway and makes the world a better place. A gorgeous piece and an excellent choice of concert-opener.
The orchestra filled out to double winds, horns and trumpets, plus piano and percussion (including chimes, gong and tubular bells) for the Hillborg Cello Concerto, a multi-episodic single-movement work. Gleaming radiant high-pitched string chording opened, joined by the soloist with shifting chordal harmonics, evolving melodically over a pedal note from piano and the basses, broadening to the texture of Renaissance choral polyphony. A more con moto section was still melodic but with agile interplay between the soloist and the orchestra, and rhythmic with slap bass, chimes and tubular bells. The next episode had a similar texture to the opening, but with microtonal glissandi in the shifting harmonies and a static intensity in the solo that reminded me of John Tavener’s 1988 ‘The Protecting Veil’. To this atmospheric point, I had been captivated; from here on I was mesmerised by the beautiful radiance of the sound. The solo cello in its alto register then emulated the human voice with a Middle-Eastern flavour, leading to a conversation with Maximiliano Martín’s clarinet. Bringing chamber sensibilities to concertante dialogue, even with 21st century music, remains one of the SCO’s especial areas of artistic excellence, and there were plenty of other examples in the Hillborg, with mention in this regard of principal cellist Philip Higham and orchestral pianist Simon Smith particularly merited. A tam-tam crescendo and brass chords launched another extremely agile interlude, fast and jazzy with wild winds, more slap bass rhythms, and the solo cello and piano dancing something akin to a Charleston. When this energy was finally spent, the music re-coalesced around the stillness, ebbing and flowing slowly, the vital force still very much present, but at peace. A final luminous diminuendo concluded. What an absolutely superb piece of music. Amalie Stalheim brought both dazzling virtuosity and consummate musicality to its realisation, casting its striking contrasts into sharp relief, but also revealing its moments of delicate intimacy. The partnership with Andrew Manze and the orchestra was unfailing, and with her every step of the way. Excellent.
From a pair of captivating Nordic pieces that came to my ken as recently as yesterday, to two Tchaikovsky bonbons that I have known since the early 1970s. I first heard the glorious ‘Variations on a Rococo Theme’ as the coupling on the 1969 Deutsche Grammophon LP of Dvořák’s Cello Concerto with Rostropovich, Karajan and the Berlin Philharmonic. It has been a firm favourite ever since. It was only recently, in fact a couple of years ago, that I heard (and it was confirmed last night in the programme notes and Eric De Wit’s introductory remarks) that the commonly performed version is not Tchaikovsky’s original but a much edited and revised version by the German cellist who commissioned it, Wilhelm Fitzenhagen. Detective work and forensic scholarship have resulted in the original version being first performed in 1940 and finally published as late as 2009. We heard the familiar (and generally preferred) Fitzenhagen version and glorious indeed it was. Tchaikovsky himself, we are told, was not a fan. Amalie Stalheim’s playing was exquisitely lyrical and cantabile in the statement of the theme and the wistful 3rd Variation and the elegiac 6th Variation, agile and virtuosic in all the others. Conversation with the orchestra was elegant and characterised by mutually responsive phrasing, particularly with flute in the 5th Variation and flute and clarinet in the 6th. The virtuosity in the minor cadenza in the 3rd Variation and the extended cadenza in the 5th was phenomenal. The arpeggiated harmonics in the 4th Variation gavotte were absolutely delicious. The evenness of phrasing of staccato playing both up- and down-bow was very impressive. The final galop was thrilling, exuberant and the icing on the cake. I happily acknowledge that Amalie Stalheim’s interpretation and execution have nothing to fear from comparison with the iconic Rostropovich recording. Fabulous.
When NICO (the New Irish Chamber Orchestra) was still “New” and I was 11 or 12 years old, its string section gave a concert in the RDS in Ballsbridge, Dublin, which I attended with my father. The programme included Tchaikovsky’s ‘Serenade for Strings’, my first live hearing of the piece. I relived that golden memory with the SCO last night. The rich ensemble sound of the stately pavane-like string chorale that opens the piece was delicious and over half a century melted in an instant. Something of the thrill of an excursion drives the ensuing Allegro moderato and its playfulness was sustained right through to the reprise of the introduction. The second movement’s Italianate ‘Valse’ seemed to beg for lyrics to match the delightful Neapolitan phrasing, but I felt that clearer indication of the pickup of tempo after the charming rallentandi would have made it all the sweeter. It was still lovely. The wistful extended ‘Élégie’ is not really melancholic and it received a heartwarming cantabile reading, with lovely meditative dialogue between the violins and cellos, ending high. The brief, slow, expectant introduction to the finale picked up attacca, before the main scampering theme based on the slow introduction to the first movement set off at a canter, a Russian dance, complete with pizzicato balalaika imitation in the bridge to the second theme, itself more in the character of a simple Russian folksong. A reprise of the first movement’s pavane intro cemented the thematic link before a final gleeful scampering dash. The ‘Serenade’ earned its top billing and was, quite simply, “as good as it gets”.
Link: https://www.sco.org.uk/events/tchaikovsky-serenade/