This, the final indoor concert of the 2012 Edinburgh International Festival (the closing Fireworks Concert takes place under the Castle Rock in Princes Street Gardens), was bookended by possibly the loudest and quietest sounds in the festival.
Charles Ives' The Unanswered Question opens with a delicate mist of pianissimo strings. Having enthusiastically welcomed David Robertson to the podium, the audience settled impressively quickly and this delicate opening could be clearly heard in a packed Usher Hall. Throughout the piece the string harmonies are wonderfully peaceful and were beautifully controlled in this performance. With little in the way of discernible pulse, I was enjoying Robertson's minimal conducting when I noticed the beginnings of a very expansive gesture. He was, in fact, reaching behind to cue the solo trumpeter who was stationed, I think, in the Upper Circle (I was one floor below). This distance lent added poignancy to the five-note questions posed. What is the nature of the questions? Leonard Bernstein, in his 1973 Norton Lectures entitled 'The Unanswered Question' felt that 'whither tonality?' was at the heart of it. The five notes in themselves do not clinch any sense of key and bear little relation to the string harmonies – far less to the more agitated flute quartet whose counters constitute little in the way of an answer. I have loved this piece for many years and felt that this RSNO performance nailed its enigmatic nature.
For reasons I could only speculate on, the orchestra segued into Morton Feldman's Coptic Light, a work inspired by the composer's love of near- and middle-eastern textiles. Similarly meditative in mood, this is a much lengthier work; at around 30 minutes it dwarfs Ives' five-minute gem but could not be regarded as lengthy by Feldman's standards. Prompted by Sibelius' observation that, unlike the piano, the orchestra has no sustain pedal, this piece represents Feldman's attempt to explore the possibilities of such a phenomenon. Colours float around the orchestra in a audio-lava-lamp kind of way. The pointillistic texture appears to feature rhythm without pulse. By the end of this slowly transforming piece, I began to perceive puzzling off-beats in the woodwind but still really no beat in any conventional sense of the word. This is a mystery which requires further investigation. Unlike some seated behind me, who later claimed to be traumatised by the experience, I found it hypnotic and was quite unaware of the passing of time. One does become aware, in live performance, of the orchestral movement within the stillness, particularly in the percussion section whose sensitive mallet work contributed greatly to the work's glistening nature.