On a hot, humid summer’s evening, Sakari Oramo made his debut as Chief Conductor of the BBC Symphony Orchestra. That the occasion was the first night of the BBC Proms 2013 didn’t seem to bother him. The Finn’s combination of serenity and confidence – and just enough passion to assure us that he was enjoying it – set the tone for an intriguing, if oddly assembled programme. Tonight felt like two concerts rolled into one. Rachmaninov and Lutosławski’s diabolically inventive Paganini variations filled a substantial slot before the interval. They were flanked by works by three British composers in a more contemplative, awe-inspiring mood. By the final ebb and flow of Vaughan Williams’ hour-long Sea Symphony, the first half felt a world away.
The first half could have stood alone. The world première of Harmony by Julian Anderson was a beautiful opener. It was artfully shaped and fully conveyed the wonder in a poem by Richard Jefferies, taking Time as its muse. The BBC Symphony Chorus’ sopranos captured the attention straight away with a lovely exposed melody, while the orchestra went on to provide bursts of energy and some ear-catching percussion. This piece is stuffed with colours, which were vividly brought to life. But I would love to hear the elements in it expanded upon. Its text may imply that time stands still during music, but it’s a shame Harmony only lasted a few minutes by the clock. Starting the Proms with new music, by a living composer, feels right. Yet giving them such a small slot is surely not enough.
The inevitable representation of centenary composer Benjamin Britten smoothly succeeded Anderson. The BBC SO were in their element in the Four Sea Interludes from Britten’s opera Peter Grimes – an approachable choice that encapsulates the composer’s ability to draw images with sound. An evocative, tense “Dawn” was followed by the familiar dancing, syncopated steps of “Sunday Morning” with its ill-fated optimism. This began a little heavily, but quickly found the playful tone representing Grimes’ young apprentice. Haunting percussion provided warnings of a darker mood to come. When it did arrive, the “Storm” that followed “Moonlight” was brilliantly executed.
There was a break before the Rachmaninov Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini – fortunate, otherwise the Romanticism would have been a blunt change of styles – to move the piano. When Stephen Hough stepped up to play it, he looked relaxed; after all, he is no stranger to the stage of the Royal Albert Hall. His relaxed air was carried into his performance. The moods in these Paganini variations change abruptly from one extreme to another and the technical demands on the pianist are considerable. Hough clearly enjoyed the moments of demonic flair as much as the more romantic passages. In fact, he seemed to be pushing the tempo rather more than the orchestra, and I felt that certain minutiae in the piano part were swept over in the process. But the accomplishment in his performance was still impressive, and there was plenty of personality in his interpretation. The rubato lilt in the inverted eighteenth variation was particularly sumptuous.