The London village of Chelsea reverberated to the sounds of a terrific party as the Prague Symphony Orchestra, its stylish chief conductor Tomáš Brauner, and their imposing guest Gabriela Montero came, saw and conquered Cadogan Hall with a programme of Prokofiev and Dvořák. Their style of partying might not be the only way of letting rip, but by the end of the evening it had a hall full of people all signed-up.
The Noon Witch is one of four Dvořák tone poems rooted in the dark demonic forest of Czech folklore. It tells of a harassed mother who threatens a recalcitrant child with the admonishments of the eponymous witch. Of course, it ends harrowingly with the death of the child. Dvořák’s graphically-detailed score was given a fine-grained reading by Brauner and his band, with vivid instrumental highlights illuminating both the rustic scenery of the setting and the narrative ebb and flow of the unfolding drama. It was a gruesome tale told with great relish.
Although I had not previously seen Montero live I knew of her reputation as a musician of prodigious gifts, and so she proved to be in the flesh. The famed fiendish difficulty of Prokofiev’s Piano Concerto no. 3 in C major was comprehensively outstared with a richly-nuanced performance. The characteristic headiness was delivered with real passion but not showiness. As for the few moments of calm, they were drawn with refined playing; fragile cantabile touches underpinned the briefest of warm tones with which Prokofiev counterpoints his extravagant gestures. Soloist and orchestra both luxuriated in the fabulous sugar-rush of the finale.
As well as being a sought-after pianist, Montero is also a famed improviser, so for an encore she gave us a fantastic rococo pudding fashioned from Greensleeves, which was whipped up in the most delightful fashion. If the concert had ended there I would have been well pleased. Next time she visits London I shall book a place at her table.
The only way to follow a feast is to sit down to do it all again, and that’s what happened, in the form of a barnstorming performance of Dvořák’s New World Symphony. I have always thought that this work is the supreme example of the composer’s enviable gift for creating magical themes and tunes, and clothing them in brilliant orchestrations. The performance of Brauner and his band did not disabuse me of that belief. Like any self-respecting Czech conductor, Brauner left his score at home but brought along his passion for the work, and even though the players had their parts in front of them it was clear that they too had brought their heads and their hearts.
As ever, the Largo was the showstopper. It is the most melancholic of symphonic slow movements and was sumptuously played, from the evocative chords with which it is awakened to the plaintive touches on the double basses that closes its eyes. During the rapturous response from the audience there was a special cheer for the timpanist. Throughout the whole programme he gave an excellent impression of a man enjoying his work.
As some members of the audience were heading for the bright lights of Sloane Square, Brauner returned to the stage and lit the fuse of the Slavonic Dance no. 15. The explosion of joy that followed was simply spectacular. The Prague Symphony Orchestra is a class-act.
