CBSO
PROM
Royal
Albert Hall ****
Written within six years of each other in the 1930s, Stravinsky’s
Symphony of Psalms and Carl Orff’s Carmina Burana are as different as chalk and
cheese.
The Stravinsky, hieratic and austere (no upper strings nor
warm clarinets) seems to be distancing itself from the political turmoil of the
period, while the Orff throws itself enthusiastically into populist hurly-burly
(whilst occasionally revealing a previously unnoticed debt to the Stravinsky).
Bringing his full forces of the CBSO and its several Choruses,
along with University of Birmingham Voices, to the Royal Albert Hall, still-new
Principal Conductor Kazuki Yamada literally brought a 6000-strong audience to
its feet (and not just the Arena and Gallery Prommers) after a gripping concert
featuring both works.
Projection was heroic in this distancing acoustic, a far cry
(forgive the pun) from the natural immediacy of the CBSO’s home at Birmingham’s
Symphony Hall, but Yamada was able to secure a wonderful sense of line and
phrasing in the Stravinsky, orchestra Byzantine in its glitter, choruses
crystal-clear in their syllabic diction (and what a worthy use of the Youth Chorus,
giving the debaucheries they were later to assist!).
Throughout Yamada tempered his natural enthusiasm with communicative
dignity, patiently building towards the beatific ending.
At least we had an interval to bridge the gap between sacred
and profane, before Carmina Burana kicked in, the infamous wheel of Fate ticking
with relentless motion, subtly inflected by Yamada’s flexibility of tempo and
command of hushed dynamics, expertly realised by the CBSO Chorus.
Orff’s pseudo-medievalism was tactfully delivered by the
choruses, though I wondered at the half-hearted choral swaying during the song
mithering about buying a pot of rouge. Preceding that, though, was an
absolutely stunning example of unanimous string bowing in the village green
dance, flute and timpani providing a touchingly limping trio section.
Then we moved to the tavern, Yamada and the orchestra
heroically responding to its heavy humour, countertenor Matthias Rexroth
reminding us how repellent the song of the roasted swan can be, baritone German
Olvera moving from the honeyed tones of his earlier contributions to the crazy
tessituras of the lecherous rabble-rouser, exaggerating the bawdy bibulousness,
and even trying to get the Prommers to join in (the CBSO Children’s Chorus actually
had to do so). Maki Mori had been the
small-voiced soprano soloist (probably better served over the airwaves), but
her ecstatic “Dulcissime” was perfectly pitched in its swaying surrender.
Throughout Kazuki Yamada conducted with ceaseless energy and
response to detail. I guess the standing
ovation was less about the music, much more about the quality of performance
perhaps rarely heard in the Royal Albert Hall.
Christopher Morley