SCO: Haydn, Schnittke, Schubert
Queen’s Hall, 15/1/2026
Scottish Chamber Orchestra, Lorenza Borrani (violin)
This was my first experience of the SCO’s experimental Thursday afternoon concerts, and a very decent audience had turned up at the Queen’s Hall to see and hear an eclectic programme of Haydn, Schnittke and Schubert, directed from the front by the charismatic Italian violinist, Lorenza Borrani.
I was initially sceptical about the wisdom of including a piece by the eccentric Soviet composer, Alfred Schnittke, in a matinee concert aimed at an older audience, and I’m still not entirely convinced, but the sheer force of Ms Borrani’s personality went a long way towards persuading me it was a justified decision. More on that later.
Firstly, we heard a spirited rendition of Haydn’s splendid 56th Symphony (1774), a performance which showed off the precision and quality of the SCO, an orchestra at the peak of its powers. I hadn’t heard them for a while, since I usually cover the RSNO for the EMR, but welcomed this opportunity to stand in for Kate Calder, who usually reviews the SCO. The Queen’s Hall is not the most comfortable of concert halls, created in 1979 from the former Hope Park Chapel, built in 1824, but it has lovely acoustics and it has been well modernised over the years to offer a very welcoming venue. I have sung many times in the hall, ever since its inauguration as a concert hall, and have always enjoyed singing here, and latterly have enjoyed many morning concerts in the Edinburgh Festival.
It is perfect for late 18th century music, and Haydn’s symphony sounded terrific. I have often felt sorry for Joseph Haydn, as he had the misfortune to live at exactly the same time as Mozart, and also when Beethoven was beginning to bestride the musical world like a colossus. At any other time in musical history, Haydn would himself have been seen as a giant, but in comparison to his two extraordinary contemporaries, he will forever be diminished in status. That he was also enormously prolific, writing 106 symphonies, 68 string quartets, 45 piano trios and 14 masses, has led to the idea that he simply churned out music for his employer, the Esterházy family. The fact that a large amount of his work was of fabulous quality has never really been fully acknowledged historically.
Today’s example was excellent, and hearing it played without a conductor, but led from the front desk by a top rate violinist, enabled us to understand its qualities even better. In her remarkable career so far (she is still only 43), Lorenza Borrani has led many ensembles, demonstrating that, certainly for pre-Romantic era music, a figurehead conductor is not always necessary to produce brilliant performances. It does mean that rehearsals need to be extremely precise and detailed, and that the violinist needs to have a strong personality, and it was clear from the whole programme that a lot of work has gone on in the run up to the concerts (there are 2 more, in Glasgow and Dumfries).
Symphony no 56 seems to have been composed to some extent in order to show off the magnificent court orchestra of the Esterhazys. All aspects of the classic ensemble of the time are there, fine string sections and some stunning music for the wind players. The slow movement features a delicious combination of two oboes and a bassoon (stunningly played by Maria Zaragozá, Katherine Bryer and Cerys Ambrose-Evans), and the fiery finale makes splendid use of the Italian dances, Tarantella and Saltarello.
The second piece in the first half could not have been more different, the Concerto Grosso no 1 by Alfred Schnittke. Composed in 1976/77, for me a wasteland decade of compositional negativity worldwide (apologies to modernists among our readers), the concerto features two equal violins, a string orchestra and a keyboard player, doubling on harpsichord and prepared piano. A feature of the middle of the 20th century, much championed by John Cage, the prepared piano is a concert piano ‘modified’ by adding objects between the strings to create weird sounds and noises. I was speaking to the gentleman who had prepared it at the interval, who told me that, rather than put coins and suchlike in the piano, which could have resulted in the destruction of the instrument, he had spent some time setting up a software package which would do the trick but preserve the piano (Deo Gracias!) It certainly was an interesting and unique sound, played by the excellent Jan Waterfield, who doubled in the more approachable sections of the concerto on a harpsichord. The piece featured Lorenza Borrani and Marcus Barcham Stevens (the leader of the second violins) as soloists, who played the difficult music with aplomb, and the whole orchestra was marvellously together, even without a conductor. Schnittke was a famous advocate of ‘polystylism’, and the work certainly jumped about from style to style like a jumping flea. For me, flea bites were unfortunately the main result, as well as the assault on my ears, but chatting to several people at the interval, I may have been in a minority, and the applause at the end was warm. It did seem to wake up some of my near neighbours in the Stalls, so there may have been an element of gratitude for the end as well!
Actually, I am being a little unfair, as there were several interesting aspects to the piece, with the juxtapositions of baroque styles with aggressive modernism and a weird but, probably, amusing section of the last movement when an Argentinian tango broke out. Some judicious editing would have helped enormously, as around 30 minutes was somewhat too long. It was an interesting curio, worth hearing, but given the demographic of the audience, perhaps a little ambitious?
A special word of commendation for Mr Barcham Stevens, who I felt deserved more of a mention in the programme than he received. In fact, we had to do some detective work simply to find out who was playing, and that’s not fair, as his contribution was immense and on a par with Ms Borrani.
After the interval, we were back on familiar ground in the form of Schubert’s wonderful ‘Unfinished’ Symphony, superbly played by the SCO and directed splendidly by Lorenza Borrani.
Franz Schubert worked on this symphony in the autumn of 1822, but apart from a reduced version of the third movement, he abandoned it completely. No one knows why, and his early death in 1828 meant that no explanation was forthcoming. He sent the completed movements to a friend in Graz, and, like Gollum’s ring, it passed out of all knowledge, until the friend’s brother remembered it in 1865, and it was presented along with two other movements from different symphonies in Vienna in December of that year. The discovery, and some of the story, came out, and the Unfinished Symphony has been played ever since, and recognised as a masterpiece, even though incomplete.
It was great to hear it played by a fine chamber orchestra on Thursday, and it benefitted from the direction of a concertmaster (I can’t say concertmistress!), as it somehow seemed to evolve out of the orchestra itself, rather than having an interpretation forced on it. Until you hear the symphony live, you forget all the extraordinary felicities that Schubert wove into the score, and the clean lines and beautiful tuning of the SCO truly enhanced the experience. We know what a great melodist he was, and the tunes just keep pouring out, lovingly played by the various sections of the orchestra. Bravo to Maria Zaragozá again for her beautiful oboe solo.
Apart from the omission of Mr Barcham Stevens’ name, I thought the programme was excellent, and it was a joy to be able to read it during the performance (unlike the RSNO in the Usher Hall!). We all trooped out into the bright January afternoon, refreshed and satisfied
