SCO: Berlioz ‘Symphonie Fantastique’

City Halls Glasgow 25/9/26

Scottish Chamber Orchestra, Maxim Emelyanychev (conductor), Timothy Ridout (viola)

The last of three outings of the Scottish Chamber Orchestra’s 2026/27 season opener, under their Principal Conductor Maxim Emelyanychev, was on Friday 25th September in Glasgow’s City Halls. In an all-Berlioz all-programmatic programme of just two works, the headline act in the second half, was the psychadelic quasi-autobiographical 1830 ‘Symphonie Fantastique’. Before the interval, violist Timothy Ridout was the soloist in ‘Harold in Italy’ (1834), supposedly inspired by Canto IV of Byron’s ‘Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage’ (though it’s pretty obvious that the self-absorbed wandering romantic hero in the Byron is Byron himself, and in the Berlioz is Berlioz). The four double-basses high up the back of the stage looked like they meant business, and it was principal bassist Jamie Kenny who genially introduced the programme. The concert was very well attended.

As always, Maxim Emelyanychev conducted sans podium, on the same level as the players, and not only visually. As the basses and bassoons (surprisingly 4 of them also – not expected until the symphony) evoked a sepulchral brooding melancholy, joined by the strings, there was as yet no sign of the soloist. Towards the end of the introduction, he appeared, walking slowly through the auditorium, his viola hanging desultorily from his left hand, his bow resting on his right shoulder. He was in character as the wandering eponymous disaffected hero, observing and even sometimes taking part, yet often aloof. The ongoing extramusical theatricality contributed immensely to an understanding of the music and I for one strongly approve. A waltz tempo became established and then a jollier faster witty dance. Timothy Ridout moved around, at one point standing at the back of the viola section and playing with them – a clearer visual metaphor for a solitary figure finding welcome and acceptance is hard to imagine. It appears that ‘Harold in the mountains’ of Abruzzo (OK, Berlioz) found cordial companionship. The second movement, ‘March of the pilgrims’ does what it says on the tin with a measured tread and a devout melody. The soloist joins in contrapuntally with enthusiastic string-crossing arpeggiation, while the pilgrims continue their march off to the distance, diminuendo. ‘Serenade of an Abruzzo mountaineer’ starts with a tripping dance with dotted rhythms, morphing to a 6/8 introduced by the orchestral violas. Cor anglais and oboe introduce the sweet serenade melody, simple and folklike, and the soloist joins in, whether as serenader or observer is left ambiguous, but the idyllic mood is unmistakable. After a return to the opening tripping dance, the movement ends in quiet contentment, the fellowship between soloist and the orchestral violas clear to see. The episodic and rather chaotic finale, ‘Orgy of the bandits’, started with a bang. Quotations from the preceding movements, including a lyrical cantabile solo, were interrupted by an insistent rhythmic trope. A carnival atmosphere reigned in a wild orchestral tutti, while the soloist had already left the stage. During some more varied episodic passages, some 2nd violinists left the stage and a played a sweetly seductive chamber interlude offstage. The soloist reappeared, but in the choir balcony, back to the role of observer. By the start of the big orchestral coda, he had vanished again. I have often remarked on how being able to see the conductor in a live performance adds immeasurably to the listening experience, as the concertgoer can listen for what they see. This may well have been the first time that my understanding of a solo instrumental part was significantly enhanced by theatrical movement by the soloist. It certainly went down very well with the Glasgow audience, their applause prompting an encore from Timothy Ridout: a Bach Sarabande, possibly the one from the 3rd Suite for Solo Cello, tranquil and sublime and a perfect antidote to the craziness of the Berlioz.

Berlioz’ real-life obsession, his infatuation with Irish actress Harriet Smithson, compounded with hallucinations brought on by substance abuse, provide the programmatic basis of the 5-movement ‘Symphonie Fantastique’, written while he was as yet her unseen stalker. They did eventually meet (1832) and marry (1833). The relationship didn’t last; the symphony, though, has lasted and is still as fresh and shocking as it was in 1830. It is astonishing to consider that it was written only three years after the death of Beethoven. The orchestration and unrestrained expressionism feel late 19th-century, with parts that anticipate Dvořák. With its evocations of aroused passions and then increasingly grotesque imagined scenarios, such as tender admiration of the beloved at a ball, a mostly idyllic trip to the countryside, an inexplicably gung-ho march to the scaffold having been convicted of her murder, then witnessing a Witches’ Sabbath as one of the invoked spirits, all the while tormented by recurring visions of the beloved – I consider it a masterpiece of the ‘BBB’ genre: ‘Bonkers But Brilliant’. Its scale and instrumentation (with 2 ophicleides, 2 harps and 4 bassoons, for instance) challenge the notion of a “chamber orchestra”, but the augmented SCO under Emelyanychev are no strangers to tackling the big stuff. They gave it everything they had - it deserves no less. The playing was absolutely phenomenal from every section, with special mention earned by the 2 to 4 timpanists and the cor anglais player Katherine Bryer. Maxim Emelyanychev made perfect sense of the score, particularly noteworthy in the often rather episodic and disjointed first movement and the rambling third movement. The use of offstage church bells instead of tubular bells in the finale added a uniquely satisfying timbre. The recurrent idée fixe that represents Harriet Smithson was never allowed to become hackneyed; the heightened emotions and disturbed hallucinogenic states of mind depicted were kept frighteningly real. The initial lassitude, the epiphanic first glimpse of the beloved, the growing obsession, the tender feelings at a ball (the two harps were gorgeous), the lonely rural reverie as the storm gathers, and the grotesque drug-induced nightmare that unfolds in the witches’ sabbath, with its transformations of the ‘Dies irae’ (the mockery by a “cutty sark” kerling on clarinet and the trudging zombies on lower brass and percussion were superb): all were spellbinding. The Glasgow audience accorded the performance their utmost uproarious approval. Full marks from me.

Link: https://www.sco.org.uk/events/berlioz-symphonie-fantastique/