It was time for a Prom that was properly different: five pieces of music (plus an encore) written between 1965 and 2019, each from a different composer and all of them being performed for the first time at the Proms, with a line up comprising harpsichord, small string orchestra and occasional percussion.
“String orchestra” doesn’t quite describe it: the 18 musicians of Manchester Collective, led from the violin by Rakhi Singh and making their Proms debut, behave and sound more like an oversized chamber group than a conventional orchestra. The tightness of playing was pin-sharp in every work and they’re not frightened of using light amplification: in a Proms season where just about everyone, including myself, has complained about lack of orchestral oomph in the hall, there were no such complaints here.
Each half opened with a romp. Henryk Górecki’s 1980 Harpsichord Concerto starts with strings doing a passable simulation of a church organ. Much as Brahms’ violin concerto has been described as a “concerto for violin against orchestra”, the first movement of the Górecki is a kind of “concerto for harpsichord against orchestra”, with Mahan Esfahani playing an increasingly manic set of harpsichord figures in an apparently desperate attempt to be heard against a solid wall of string sound. Then, for the second movement, the mood turns on its head from antagonistic to collaborative and from portentous to fun: soloist and orchestra exchange themes in dance rhythms that become almost bucolic. You could let your imagination run riot: have the villagers spilled out from church into a giant knees-up?
The second half opener, Dobrinka Tabakova’s Suite in Old Style, provided just as rich entertainment while being about as different from the Górecki as it is possible to be. Just before the house lights dim, we hear drum beats which mark the start of what is unmistakably a renaissance or baroque march (with Esfahani switching from harpsichord to tambourine). The piece is a tribute to Rameau (it’s subtitled The Court Jester Amareu) and we are transported to the genteel world of 18th century nobility with music that’s somewhere between modern folk, renaissance pastiche and a virtuoso vehicle for violist Ruth Gibson. Then we snap out of pastiche into an edgier passage where the violist and orchestra truly swing together. The second movement provides dreamy lushness in a chord progression that’s never predictable but always sure-footed; the third is a fast 12-time dance with a touch of the Brandenburgs about it and deft touches on the harpsichord. The ending shifts back to the opening fanfare in exhilarating fashion.