It’s so heartening to we grizzled, veteran concert-goers to witness waves of eager young faces pouring into the Queen Elizabeth Hall, curious to hear orchestral music that, while spanning the generations, will speak directly to them; music that balances serious breadth and depth with a lightness of touch that will sometimes make them smile. In short, a mind-expanding experience for everyone, whatever their age.
The Southbank Centre has been nurturing this audience for some time, programming several top-quality ensembles in adventurous programmes of just over an hour, leaving time for the crowd to socialise afterwards, perhaps to linger in the bar and talk about what they’ve just heard. Judging by the excited chatter as I left the hall last night, the bar was going to be busy.
No doubt the name Philip Glass attracted many to hear the Scottish Ensemble, a 19-piece string orchestra of extraordinarily talented and committed players. His Symphony no. 3 was to be the climax of the evening, but before we reached that point the Ensemble presented a carefully chosen programme of exciting, short pieces which all shared parallel energetic explorations of musical patterns and pulses.
Anna Meredith’s Tull set the engine running with staccato, metronomic chords building ever louder until riding up an escalator of keys and disappearing into the distance – all in three minutes. Immediately we found ourselves in the great wilderness of Paul Sculthorpe’s native Australia, with a movement from his String Sonata no. 3, music that employs rhythms and melodies that date back thousands of years, and yet feels utterly modern – not unlike the way Picasso used ancient African masks to generate a new portraiture. The piece required fierce concentration from each player – a level of commitment that never wavered throughout the evening – and then, in a glorious moment, the driving rhythm was set free and birdsong filled the air in a shower of twittering harmonics.
The ensemble has no formal conductor. Instead, artistic director and leader Jonathan Morton coaxes rather than directs the players. They feel the music together, and that collegiate cohesion communicates directly with the audience, particularly in pieces such as Jorg Widmann’s 180 beats per minute, a frantic excursion into techno beats. It’s a headlong dash, driven by a single cello. Horsehair flew off his bow as Nathaniel Boyd dug into his strings, setting up a terrifying tempo that is taken up by the other players before the music condenses and splits into an elegant canon. Whoops of joy filled the hall.
The febrile tempi continued in contributions from Bryce Dessner and Jonny Greenwood. Two movements from Dessner’s Réponse Lutosławski, featured imaginative methods of propulsion: percussive bows bouncing on cello strings and enthusiastic foot stamping; while Greenwood required most of the players to put down their bows and pick up a plectrum to give us a brief moment from his score to There Will be Blood.
These high-quality players caressed the soft major-minor ambiguity of the opening movement of Philip Glass’ Third Symphony before launching into the unison melody of the second, which charges ever onward – leaving the listener fighting for breath – before it splits into parts and winds down. The third movement, the symphony's core, employs a classic Glass chaconne, where chord changes catch you unawares, reminiscent of passages in his operas Satyagraha and Akhnaten. There was great beauty in this performance, the music enriching and unfolding in a series of variations, with excellent solos from each of the four violinists.
At the close, the cheers were emphatic for this hugely talented ensemble, its careful choice of programming, allied to playing of the highest quality, making this an exceptionally exciting evening.
