Conductor Joseph Swensen expressed his delight in programming this Scottish Chamber Orchestra concert mainly devoted to Sibelius’ more soul-searching introspective music, the very personal Violin Concerto and his rather melancholic Sixth Symphony. To temper possible gloom following us out of the doors of Edinburgh’s Queen’s Hall, Swensen promised to tack on a “less sad” short piece at the end.
While Sibelius was composing in politically turbulent times in Finland, Polish composer Grażyna Bacewicz faced similar challenges, Swensen arguing that her music should be more widely known. Bacewicz, violinist and concertmaster of the Polish Radio Orchestra during the Second World War, wrote her award-winning Concerto for String Orchestra in 1948 as Poland was adapting to the new Socialist regime. Nimbly side-stepping the state-approved movement towards folksier idiom, the work harks back to the Baroque concerto grosso form as a loose base, but is a lively and invigorating jumble of styles across three movements.
The Allegro bristled with energy and bounce, the strings urged on by Swensen’s expansive style brought attack shimmering with steely verve, angular blizzards of runs with fierce scattered pizzicatos. A densely harmonic febrile Andante, with a cello solo against glistening upper strings, built up layers of intensity, the players dividing into multiple parts, Swensen at one point with both arms aloft as if hugging the music in a warm embrace. The final Vivo was a thrilling vigorous workout for all, the players tossing fragments around almost with abandon, and after calmer moments over divisi cellos, vigorous tutti flourishes brought this astonishing piece to a close.
Sibelius’ Violin Concerto in D minor was composed at a time of family turmoil, the orchestra more symphonic than mere accompanists allowing glimpses of underlying darkness to emerge around the thrilling virtuosic demands of the soloist. New Zealand born, USA raised violinist Geneva Lewis gave an astounding performance, her boldly confident opening theme over a hushed orchestra soon turned passionate as the brooding timpani heralded sweeping motifs from the orchestra. Swensen knows this concerto inside-out as soloist and conductor, notching up the tension in the orchestral passages, bright woodwinds and percussive brass giving the music a sharp edge.
Lewis simply poured out the notes with deft articulation, her speedy runs in the cadenza breath-taking before the players joined in a race to the finish. The haunted woodwind in the Adagio broadened out with Lewis producing a serene mellow sound, gorgeously ripe as she hit the bottom strings, the players brooding tension with dissonant brass. The final Allegro was tremendous, Swensen driving the introductory rhythmic opening tightly, Lewis with a terrific show of double-stopping and runs making even the highest notes sound sweetly, her heroic violin dancing to the end earning her roars of approval from a packed Queens Hall, totally winning the evening.
Sibelius began his Sixth Symphony in 1914, but by the time he finished in 1923, Finland had seen World War 1 and a brutal Civil War with the country emerging as a new presidential republic. A thoughtful work, the filmic intertwining tapestry of woven melodic lines hinted at first snows, as the composer suggested, the flutes dancing and the woodwind colours bottomed out by the bass clarinet. Five horns were chorale-like, the cellos taking up themes as the music broadened out promisingly but ending quietly. Swensen guided his players through the central fragmentary Allegretto and brighter more energetic Vivace before the rich divided cellos and repeated string phrases promised a robust ending. However, despite the richness of the yearning strings, the timpani-driven gloom descended. The less sad piece? Valse Triste, sensitively judged by Swensen, beautifully played by the orchestra.
