Where to make your international debut? Not a decision every orchestra has to make, but one has been in the planning for a number of years since conductor John Wilson revived the fortunes of the Sinfonia of London, bringing together British musicians, young and old, to showcase the very best of British music. Accepting an invite from Amsterdam’s Concertgebouw was the perfect solution for a conductor who attended concerts here as a student, sharing a subscription with a friend, and later debuting in 2017. Another British favourite, pianist Benjamin Grosvenor joined the stage, making this a very British affair.
The highlight of the evening was one of the finest readings of Elgar’s Enigma Variations I have heard in recent years. Elgar’s music felt fresh and vibrant. Quite a feat bearing in mind how many times the musicians will have performed this British staple over the years. Everything relaxed as the clarinet emerged from behind the clouds like a warm blanket on a cold winter’s day before a flurry of bombastic turmoil launched us headlong into an enigmatic portrayal of Elgar’s nearest and dearest.
Step by step, Wilson unveiled his tapestry of sound, juxtaposing dark and menacing with delicate and fragile. Luxuriant violins soared high up the strings before Nimrod’s magical pianissimo morphed into majestic fervour. Dorabella’s sultry violas painted a translucent landscape before rustling timpani shepherded the clarinet’s lonesome cries. Overwhelming sadness engulfed the cello’s solo, contrasting with the might of the unwavering brass in all their glory. With the Concertgebouw organ bolstering forces, a glorious Finale filled every crevice of the hall. Wilson had the Dutch audience firmly in the palm of his hands.
Plucking a microphone out of nowhere, Wilson shared his delight, concluding with a suitably polished rendition of Coates’ Knightsbridge March from his London Suite. Never has the bass drum thundered quite so dramatically and with such panache.
The evening opened with Strauss’ Don Juan, a brave choice to bring to a city with such close connections to Strauss’ music. Taking time for the initial furious passagework to adjust to the cavernous acoustics, magical mystery descended as a seductive violin quelled the storm. A mellifluous oboe, likewise, calmed those burning souls. A cheeky horn slide though, made this Don Juan slightly bashful in contrast to the full-bodied prowess of the trumpet. Only in the final outing did this Don become tall in stature and humble no more.
In the hands of talented pianist Benjamin Grosvenor, Rachmaninov’s Second Piano Concerto opened with a thunderous build-up of power. Rarely does the Concertgebouw Steinway resonate quite so wildly. And even if the often urgent tempo stretched the limits of precision and clarity in the generous Concertgebouw acoustic, an undeterred Grosvenor conjured endless layers of tonal beauty. Beguiling flutes signalling the cadenza’s close made way for the full splendour of Rachmaninov’s cascading piano chords: fluttering, swirling and even seducing, before shimmering bell-like piano clarity heralded the Allegro. This was Grosvenor’s love letter to Amsterdam, every note laden with meaning, teasing both audience and orchestra alike. Returning to the stage for an intensely personal account of Bach’s Prelude in E minor, his inner melody oozed sorrow at every turn.
