“Do you know what it's like when someone invites you to ride in a great sports car and you wish you'd turned them down?” commented John Adams in respect of his fanfare for orchestra, Short Ride in a Fast Machine. Actually I don’t (but if any Bachtrack readers would like to offer me a spin I’d be happy to risk it). I imagine that the ride would be a memorable, exhilarating experience, something like the performance of Adams' piece which opened this Belgrade Philharmonic concert, conducted by Iranian-born, German–based Hossein Pishkar. A large orchestra in a relatively small hall added to the excitement: it felt very immediate and very loud.
Philip Glass is often bracketed with Adams as a “minimalist” composer – indeed, this concert was publicised as “minimum–maximum” – but they have distinct styles. Glass’ Double Concerto for Violin, Cello and Orchestra was first performed in 2010 as the music for a Nederlands Dans Theater ballet, but it works perfectly well as a standalone concert piece with no need for a visual element. Gidon Kremer and Giedrė Dirvanauskaitė have played it in many cities with different orchestras and here gave a stunning account with a sympathetic Belgrade Philharmonic.
Each of the three movements of this unique concerto (designated “Parts” by the composer) is prefaced with an unaccompanied duet for the soloist and a final duet concludes the concerto. The duets feel like chamber music rather than cadenzas and, on the whole, are quiet and reflective. The final duet has a lyrical character and ends the concerto in quiet intimacy. In between, however, Glass deploys a huge range of techniques.
Hossein and the orchestra seemed as committed to delivering a special performance as Kremer and Dirvinauskaitė, very much a collaborative achievement. The soloists played with the orchestra as if leading it, without confrontation. The first Part included some breathtaking surges of sound. Anyone thinking that “minimalism” is unemotional would do well to listen to the first section of the second Part. There were many changes of rhythmic drive and orchestral texture throughout, different combinations of instruments supporting the soloists sensitively. A section in the second Part in which the soloists were accompanied by cellos and basses was captivating. The percussion and brass contributions early in the third Part created an unexpected change of mood. This was a really satisfying performance of a concerto that I hope to have the opportunity to hear many more times in the future. Kremer and Dirvinauskaitė returned with an encore: a delightfully quirky duet, Rag-Gidon-Time by Giya Kancheli.
The ”maximum” part of the concert came after the interval in the form of Robert Schumann’s Symphony no. 2 in C major. The solemn chorale opening was gripping but some way into the first movement I was starting to wonder whether Hossein was exercising too much control and not letting the music breathe and flow. However, the emphatic chords at the end of the movement were more exciting than I have ever heard them before and by the middle of the third movement I was convinced that this was a very special interpretation. The Scherzo combined lightness of touch and richness of sound. The slow movement was the tragic heart of the symphony; Hossein’s relaxed approach contrasted with what had gone before, truly Adagio espressivo. Then the exuberant finale crowned the piece, Hossein sprinkling magic over the orchestra, bringing this epitome of early German Romanticism to life.
