“Erkki-Sven Tüür's Sow the Wind, Mussorgsky's Songs of Dances of Death and Tchaikovsky 2... this is not good box office!” admitted Paavo Järvi at the reception following the final concert of the Pärnu Music Festival. There's a ring of truth to this. Most orchestral managers would shudder in the face of such a programme, but box office considerations and pandering to sponsors are far from Järvi's mind in his Pärnu planning. Yet the concert hall, regardless of the programme, was packed for the Estonian Festival Orchestra's finale and the audience was rewarded with terrific performances.
Environmental concerns lay behind Tüür's work, which was premiered by Järvi with the Orchestre de Paris in 2015. Although there is no explicit attempt at programmatic music to depict the biblical quotation “For they sow the wind, and they shall reap the whirlwind”, Tüür does develop small details – ululating clarinets, glockenspiel flecks, a dialogue between violins – and hurls back an apocalyptic storm of orchestral power that tested the hall's limits. It was a particularly great workout for the EFO's busy percussionists, bowed cymbal, cowbells and gongs to the fore.
Pärnu isn't far from St Petersburg and the rest of the evening was devoted to two Russian composers. In his Songs and Dances of Death, Mussorgsky dresses Death in various disguises to claim his victims: a nanny, to rock a feverish child to eternal sleep; a serenading lover; a woman seducing a drunken peasant, inviting him to dance a Trepak; a Field Marshal, commanding officer over an army of skeletons. The songs are usually heard in Shostakovich's 1962 orchestrations, but Järvi chose Kalevi Aho's 1984 setting, made for the great Finnish bass, Martti Talvela. Estonian Ain Anger completely beguiled, his charcoal bass enveloping the audience like a warm hug. Towering over Järvi, he powered over Aho's percussion artillery – thundersheet cannons in The Field Marshal – with sepulchral ease, his characterisations vividly drawn. We were then treated to Gremin's aria from Eugene Onegin, sung with a velvet caress at a tempo that avoided syrup. The strings swooned, the audience swooned and demanded Anger sing it all over again so we could swoon a little bit more.