Yet another all-Beethoven concert? The prospect of experiencing the run-of-the mill was turned upon its head the moment the Singapore Symphony Orchestra launched into the opening bars of the Coriolan Overture. Its punched out chords in C minor, defiant at once and earth-shaking in impact, set the tone of the evening led by Dutch-Maltese conductor Lawrence Renes. The tension ratcheted over its course, the Roman consul’s intransigence contrasted with genial pleadings of his loved ones, would determine the music’s fateful outcome. Despite closing quietly, the earlier angst and agitation had left its mark.
The concert proceeded in reverse opus order with the Violin Concerto in D major, Op.61, coming next. Any 45 minutes in the company of Canadian violinist James Ehnes is time well spent, for his view comes as close to the perfect conception of the lengthiest violin concerto in the standard repertoire. After the long orchestral ritornello defined by Christian Schiøler’s timpani taps, Ehnes’ entry was commanding but not in-your-face, his virtuosity being wholly in service to the music. Has there been a more mighty first movement built on such simple motifs? Ehnes’ mission was to define these with the clearest of voices and purest of intonation, culminating with Fritz Kreisler’s contrapuntally rich cadenza. With that effortlessly accomplished, the ensuing passage accompanied by just pizzicato strings glittered like fairy dust.
The timeless Larghetto passed like a dream, its variations unfolding with such beauty that one simply did not want it to end. Another Kreisler cadenza, a shorter one this time, and it was straight into the Rondo finale’s irrepressible dance. And what joy transpired, one only the usually irascible Beethoven could know. With the flashiest Kreisler cadenza and gloves fully off, the concerto concluded brilliantly to a storm of applause. Ehnes could not leave the stage without playing two encores, Eugene Ysaye’s thornily difficult single-movement Sonata no. 3 (the Ballade), and the slow movement from Bach’s Violin Sonata no. 3 in C major, BWV1005.
Beethoven’s Fourth should no longer be considered a Cinderella symphony between its two Thor-like brothers. Besides, the SSO has recently made a habit of presenting it in the best case possible, with two excellent performances (from Hans Graf and Krystian Zimerman) just two years ago. From Renes came another extraordinary reading, possibly the best of the three. Conducting from memory, he nailed the vital pulse of the music from its very outset. The Adagio introduction shared the same notes as the Fifth Symphony’s famous Fate motif, but divergence meant it took a vastly different course.
The Allegro that came after bristled and bounded with so much spirit and energy that premature applause was elicited. It almost seemed a crime to sit silently. Even the slow movement’s Adagio was illusory, as what followed unfolded over waves of momentum and energy. In the third movement’s country dance, its ungainliness was not overdone. All hint of comedy was reserved for the finale’s perpetual motion, a relentless tarantella that swept all and sundry in its path. To be able to play so accurately at this speed was a wonder in itself. In my 45 years of concert-going, this had to be simply the best all-Beethoven concert of them all.
