Exciting, innovative programming sometimes comes at a price. Ranging in style from the chirpy Classical Symphony of Prokofiev through the visceral folk music of Szymanowski’s Violin Concerto no. 2 to the bitter despair of Walton’s Symphony no. 1, these lesser-known works of last night's concert seemed to have frightened off a significant portion of the usual Friday night crowd. Their loss, as this proved to be a compelling performance of a highly original programme. And, if that wasn’t enough, it also featured a soloist who had all the magnetism of a rock-star – in short, all the ingredients necessary to make it one of the most enjoyable and intriguing concerts of the season so far.
From the breezy opening Allegro of Prokofiev’s Symphony no. 1 in D major, visiting conductor Alexander Shelley proved to be a safe pair of hands, keeping a satisfyingly tight rein on the rhythm throughout. The witty lines of music went trippingly along, bouncing off accents and capturing the good-humoured cheer inherent in this work. All sections of the orchestra responded instantly to Shelley’s laconic and at times detached, though always pellucid style of conducting. In the third movement Gavotte, it was sufficient for a mere twitch of his baton to make the strings play up the ironic dance element while in the finale, the strict marshalling of the troops meant that the chasing contrapuntal lines between strings and woodwind bubbled with controlled excitement.
Blessed with a staggering virtuoso technique and a charismatic ability to communicate even the most complex music engagingly, Hungarian violinist, Barnabás Kelemen was the soloist in Szymanowski’s earthy Second Concerto. Dressed in a black frock coat and skinny trousers, Kelemen, like his fellow Hungarian Franz Liszt two centuries previously, oozed star appeal. It was not visuals alone that were striking: what impressed so much from the start was the tonal palette he demonstrated; the difference between the deep, rich voice of the G string sounded like a different instrument to the silken soaring lines he produced on the E string.
The music of this concerto belong to Szymanowski’s late period, a style that owes much to his visitations to the Tatra Mountains in Southern Poland where he absorbed the local, earthy, folk idioms. This through-composed, one-movement concerto is impetuous in its shifting moods and Kelemen attacked the visceral sections with a ferocity that was both raw and shocking. From his brusque movements, it was evident that he revelled in the urgency of the violent rhythms that propelled the music to the cadenza. This was little short of jaw-droppingly spectacular. Fiendishly difficult, abounding in double-stops and using the whole gamut of the instrument, Kelemen dispatched it with palpable energy and enjoyment. The NSO was energised by this performance, though never once did it overpower him. It was not all fireworks though and in the Andantino the diaphanous sounds evoked by Kelemen suited the distant mood.