The first Sydney concert of the Academy of St Martin in the Fields took place before a virtual capacity crowd; one suspects that this was in large part because of the star quality of its artistic director, Joshua Bell. Given the long tenure of his predecessor, the late Sir Neville Marriner, who led the orchestra for over half a century, Bell still seems ‘new’ to the job, although he has in fact been at the helm since 2011. Unlike Marriner, Bell is a performer-director in the manner of Richard Tognetti, although on Saturday night’s showing the Academy is a much more physically reserved and programmatically conservative band than the Australian Chamber Orchestra.
One important difference between the two chamber orchestras is that the British group is seated, while the Australians stand. This has major consequences for the ease with which directions can be given from the concertmaster position. Bell had virtually no elevation advantage from his seat on a piano stool, whereas Tognetti typically stands on a riser and is both more visible and more easily able to move about. At the start of Mendelssohn’s Hebrides Overture, Bell played only intermittently, generally joining his first violin comrades only for the good bits, such as when they took over the second theme from the cellos. Most of the time he was gesturing from his seat with body and bow to the other sections of the orchestra, not the happiest compromise of playing and directing functions. As he and the orchestra warmed up, his directions became less frequent and less urgent, to the viewers’ greater comfort. The orchestra displayed the traditional British affinity for Mendelssohn’s music: the sea swells were restrained but evocative, and the clarinet restatement of the second theme late the work was beautifully phrased.
Pleasant though this was, the performance of the Tchaikovsky Violin Concerto lifted the evening onto another plane. Now standing centre of the stage, Bell gave a real tour de force performance in the dual roles of soloist and conductor. The acting concertmaster gave a few supplementary gestures to the orchestra when the soloist’s attention was otherwise occupied. Bell’s tone was huge and warm, a happy combination for this robust and yet ardently romantic work. He had a highly sympathetic backing from his co-musicians, who were capable of plenty of gusto when the occasion warranted it (such as the explosion into the last movement). The cadenza in the first movement was particularly special: this familiar passage came across as something newly minted, and Bell didn’t have to descend into wilful eccentricity to achieve this effect. This was one of those rare moments when one felt the entire hall frozen with concentration, captivated by a true virtuoso musician. At the end of the movement, the enthusiasm of the crowd broke forth spontaneously; hang the propriety of applauding between movements! My only wish is that Bell had conveyed facially how much fun he was having in the manic last movement: it sounded wonderful, but looked a little dogged.