Dvořák’s music takes centre stage in the Scottish Chamber Orchestra’s season opener

Most of the time when I go to hear the Scottish Chamber Orchestra, they’re playing in one of their Edinburgh venues, either the Queen’s Hall (often too small) or the Usher Hall (often too large). Glasgow’s City Halls, however, is their Goldilocks venue: just right. Nowhere do they sound better than here, so this concert was always going to be a treat. Hearing them play Dvořák like this, however, turned it into a joy.

It’s still a relative rarity to hear Dvořák played by a chamber orchestra, but in this, their season opener, the SCO showcased how to bring the best of all worlds to his music. The smaller forces (ten first violins) in this perfectly sized venue meant that every nuance of his orchestration sounded fresh and detailed. When playing the Carnival Overture the SCO played with modern instruments and full-on vibrato, but the size of the band (and the hall), combined with their attention to detail and conductor Maxim Emelyanychev’s ebullient energy, made it sound clean, clear and consistently fresh.

They brought similar energy to the opening tutti of the Cello Concerto in B minor, making it sound focused, lithe and exciting, and showcasing some glorious horn and woodwind solos even before the soloist had even picked up his bow. When he entered, instantly assuming centre stage, Steven Isserlis played with dramatic thrust and rhapsodic intensity, yet managed gorgeous sweetness for the lyrical second theme, and surging emotional warmth for the slow movement. I often wonder what’s going through Isserlis’ head as he gazes into the great beyond while he plays, though it scarcely matters when the result is as beautiful and as focused as this.

Did Isserlis’ presence mean that conductor Maxim Emelyanychev was slightly cowed? Normally Emelyanychev is hands-down the most charismatic performer on any stage, but Isserlis gave him an oversized musical personality to reckon with, and I wondered whether Emelyanychev’s gestures ended up being a little constrained as a result. And there were several moments, most especially in the exposed last moments of the finale, when it wasn’t at all clear who was in charge. Was Emelyanychev leading the music, or was he following Isserlis, and did the musical coherence suffer ever so slightly as a result of the lack of clarity?

There as no need to ponder such questions in the performance of Dvořák’s Eighth Symphony, however, where the SCO brought all of their period performance expertise, using sparing string vibrato and even natural trumpets for the bugle calls of the finale’s opening. The whole performance crackled with energy, with a first movement of burning focus, a beautifully rustic waltz in the third movement, and a finale that sounded uproarious but controlled. I doubt I’ve ever heard as beautifully nuanced a performance of the slow movement, however, with open strings, gently singing winds, and carefully shaded dynamics that the conductor wasn’t afraid to take to extremes. The violins held back on the vibrato all the way through which meant that, when they finally unleashed it at the movement's end, the effect was heart-swelling.