Superb Hungarian and Czech music from Hindoyan and the RLPO

For their latest concert the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra and chief conductor Domingo Hindoyan took us on an exhilarating musical tour of central Europe, a region that at least until the Second World War was a hotch-potch of nationalities, languages and cultures. It also produced some of the most significant musical compositions that have become central to orchestral repertoires all round the world. The three composers represented in Liverpool this evening all had roots in their local folk traditions which they transformed in different ways into their concert music.

Zoltán Kodály lived for seven years as a child in the village of Gálanta (between Vienna and Budapest, now in Slovakia) where the local gypsy bands made a strong impression on him. Later he came across a collection of Hungarian dances published around 1800 including music from Gálanta. Kodály made use of some of these tunes in his 1933 Dances of Gálanta, developing them into a complex orchestral work. Hindoyan and the RLPO gave an evocative performance, building up the tension and releasing it, reflecting the slow then fast sections of the verbunkos style of these dances. Kodály made sparing use of percussion to add colour and these contributions stood out. Even more remarkable were the woodwind contributions, especially the clarinet solos of Miquel Ramos Salvadó, evoking a traditional Hungarian instrument.

Kodály and his friend Béla Bartók (a fellow Hungarian, born in what is now Romania) collected folk music in the field together. Bartók was deeply influenced by it even if this is not always immediately apparent in his own compositions. His Violin Concerto no. 2 (written in 1937-38) is considerably more austere than the Dances of Gálanta but traditional rhythms and melodies are woven into its fabric. Michael Barenboim was the soloist; his forceful playing dominated the performance and drew the audience into this remarkable world. Sometimes it was sweet and lyrical, sometimes harsh and abrasive and the orchestral contributions were equally varied. Gentle themes from the strings and harp contrasted with growls from the brass. The first movement cadenza was particularly impressive. It was as if Barenboim was communicating something important but hard to understand. The composer’s somewhat reserved personality mingled with an intellectual rigour shone through. The second movement was gentler and calmer but with dark undercurrents. The finale was more energetic but a long way from the jollity of the Kodály’s dances. As in the preceding movements, Barenboim’s virtuoso playing led the audience through this gripping concerto.

Antonín Dvořák made his name with his Slavonic Dances in which he presented tunes from all over central and eastern Europe but by the time of his Seventh Symphony (premiered in 1885) he had assimilated the folk style into his own personal idiom. Hindoyan and the RLPO gave a stunning performance. The opening bars were full of suspense which was maintained until a more relaxed second theme arrived. Throughout the symphony the balance between instruments was perfectly judged. The trombones, for example, could blend into the texture of the whole or blare out to grab the attention. The woodwind players were crucial in creating the bucolic feel of the gently lilting second movement. The third movement is designated a Scherzo but is a stylish Czech dance; Hindoyan captured the local colour. He shaped every phrase while allowing the music to breathe and flow. The dramatic outer movements were particularly powerful. Dvořák blended folk elements and symphonic rigour; Hindoyan and the orchestra expressed this perfectly.