With murky machinations in the low strings and piercing, vivid woodwind solos above, Harrison Birtwistle’s Night’s Black Bird and Ravel’s Piano Concerto for the Left Hand in D major have surprisingly similar openings. And both received similarly fine performances last night from the BBC Philharmonic Orchestra under Juanjo Mena in a Prom in which the darkest, most nightmarish passages of music were often the most compelling, as most apparent in the strong, sinister Mahler Fifth that concluded the evening.
All three pieces, though, have their darker moments – especially the Ravel, whose outlook is perhaps the least consoling. Even in this jazzy rendering from Mena and the excellent soloist Alexandre Tharaud, it is the melancholy of the piece that sticks, Ravel’s dark harmonic colouring and flattened modes undercutting the rhythmic liveliness. Tharaud handled the long solo passages with lyrical sensitivity and great dexterity, the physicality of the part almost forcing him off his stool on a number of occasions – though in general the orchestral passages sounded more gripping, more vital. That said, the Albert Hall acoustic is perhaps at its least forgiving when dealing with low-register piano music, and I felt I was perhaps getting only a fraction of what Tharaud had to offer. His encore, a Scriabin prelude, also for the left hand, was played with similar panache.
The melancholy of Birtwistle’s 2004 piece comes as less of a surprise than that of the Ravel. In part inspired by John Dowland’s perennially fascinating song In Darkness Let Me Dwell, Night’s Black Bird is a stern, eloquent portrait of the night and the strange noises that lurk within it. The chirping, birdsong-esque piccolo solo from Jennifer Hutchinson was just the first of many exemplary wind solos, which burnished an eloquent performance from Mena’s players, aptly capturing the piece’s sombre mood. This is just the start of the 2014 Proms’ focus on Birtwistle, as well as his contemporary Peter Maxwell Davies, both of whom turn 80 this year – prommers can expect to become well accustomed to Birtwistle’s dark, dense soundworld, though with luck this prolonged exposure will also be an opportunity to look within the uniformity of his music and see the ever-shifting shapes that it conceals.