A felicitous meeting of Bruckner and Bowie at Komische Oper Berlin’s Schall und Rausch festival

Under the umbrella of its “Schall und Rausch” Festival (the name is a play on words that translates literally as “Noise and intoxication”), Komische Oper Berlin is proving that contemporary music and electronic beats deserve their place at the same level as classical music. Held in the emblematic venues of Berlin's nightlife in the heart of the Neukölln district, the festival, which is being held for the second time this year, has been a resounding success, as demonstrated by the packed house on Saturday evening for a programme featuring a meeting that is as unusual as it is daring: David Bowie and Anton Bruckner, two men a century apart but with similar destinies, both having suffered from a sense of isolation at the height of their careers.

For this evening, the Vollgutlager was chosen to welcome the Orchester der Komischen Oper Berlin conducted par James Gaffigan, and an audience of just under 1,000. The large, industrial hall was once part of Berlin’s former KINDL brewery. While the venue was perfectly in keeping with Komische Oper's desire to break barriers between worlds and cultures, I was nevertheless slightly disappointed by the acoustics, which somewhat detracted from the programme on offer.

Initially, the premiere of the orchestral version of David Bowie's album Heroes was scheduled for the first half of the concert, to be followed by Bruckner's Sixth Symphony after the interval. In the event, the two items were switched, with a fine theatrical effect at the very end of the concert that entirely justified the decision.

The first movement of Bruckner's Sixth, marked Majestoso, opened the evening with an ostinato well executed by the orchestra. Unfortunately, I could only see their bows and the tops of the double basses, the brass and most other instruments being hidden, for part of the audience, behind one of the hall's large concrete pillars. The brass and violin tuttis that are supposed to ring out and surprise the audience seemed dampened by the hall's acoustics; I would have liked the sound to have developed a little more to feel more enveloped by the music. Fortunately, the quieter passages, such as the solos from flute, oboe and muted horn, were very well rendered.

The funeral march in the second movement suffered slightly from the screeching of tyres in the nearby car park. That’s one of the things you have to put up with when playing in a peculiar venue! The pizzicati of the double basses and cellos succeeded in transporting us into Bruckner’s world, right up to the movement’s three final chords, which were perfectly executed. The third movement was more difficult, especially for the brass section, exposed in this unforgiving acoustic. Despite this, the brass section gave us some very fine moments throughout the last two movements and was particularly applauded before the interval.

For the premiere of the orchestral adaptation of Heroes, the venue once again presented a challenge, but the nod to the album's ninth track (Neukölln) was nonetheless appreciated. A musical fresco borrowing from electronica, rock and disco and made up of multiple sound collages, Heroes was entirely written and recorded in Berlin and incarnates the unique atmosphere of the city. In trying to capture this character, this orchestral version showed itself from the outset to be a challenging and demanding piece. But the Komische Oper musicians picked up the gauntlet brilliantly, with a particularly well-stocked percussion section (glockenspiel, tam-tam, bass drum, tubular bells).

The album's tracks followed on from one another with no substantial breaks, just as in the recorded version. The very beautiful adaptation of Moss Garden will stay in the memory, so gentle, almost angelic, as will, of course, the title track, the main theme taken up by each section in turn, ending in a minimalist version with tubular bells.

The magic took full effect at the end of the last number, when one of the percussionists whipped out a repetitive rhythm that ended up being taken up by the audience. Then the theme of a few notes played by the strings was repeated several times, also allowing the audience to join in, at Gaffigan's prompting. With a gentle decrescendo from the instrumentalists, it was eventually the audience that gave the final note to this concert. James Gaffigan left his place on stage and disappeared backstage for a few seconds, giving the last sounds time to echo through the audience and give way to real applause.

Translated from French by David Karlin