The National Symphony Orchestra of Ukraine is on a 17-date UK tour under the baton of Chief Conductor Volodymyr Sirenko, and if its performance in Sheffield’s City Hall was typical of other events on its travels, then this series of dates can only be in part assessed like ‘normal’ concerts. Ukrainian flags were prominent in the auditorium, and the final shout of Ukrainian solidarity from an audience member was met with a vociferous and unison response from the players. It’s an orchestra carrying a huge emotional burden, representing a country where all its players know someone who has suffered at the hands of Russian aggression, and where some of the orchestra’s usual members are currently serving with the Ukrainian military. Not, then, a concert where a reviewer might nit-pick about the finer points of interpretative nuance.
That said, it was an impressive, if not a flawless, performance. The orchestra has an interesting sound. In an era tending toward homogenous orchestral textures, the Ukrainians retain that slightly ‘old-fashioned’ Eastern European feel, with woodwind voices pungent and differentiated rather than blended, and the brass with a warm bloom and an underlying hint of vibrato.
The programme contained a couple of rarities, bookended by symphonic poems that do not often see the light of day. Lyatoshynsky’s Grazhyna, a symphonic ballad based on Polish poet Adam Mickiewicz’s narrative poem, comes replete with an elaborate programme detailing the battles, triumphs and eventual death of the eponymous Lithuanian heroine. I have to confess that to me it felt like the mid-20th century stuff produced to accommodate Soviet views of acceptable socialist realist art, though the Dies irae-influenced chant that began and ended the piece was poignantly effective.
At the other end of the evening was Liszt’s Mazeppa. One can see why this piece was programmed – a Ukrainian nobleman’s near death punishment for sexual misdemeanours leads to him being rescued by Ukrainian Cossacks and he subsequently leads them to victory over the Russian head of state, the resonance of which is inescapable in the current climate. Without wishing to hand over my duties to Debussy, his critical assessment of the work is hard to beat: “This symphonic poem is full of the worst faults; sometimes it is even vulgar. Yet all that tumultuous passion exerts such a force that you find yourself liking it, without quite knowing why.” The orchestra gave it a splendidly ‘no holds barred’ performance.
Between these works, the impressive Aleksey Semenenko gave a stirring account of Bruch’s virtually indestructible Violin Concerto no.1 in G minor. Although at times he seemed to yearn to play the work as though it were by Paganini, exaggerating the virtuosity at the expense of lyricism in the outer movements, he and the orchestra gave full expression to the concerto’s meltingly tender slow movement. Nevertheless, he seemed on happier ground in giving two encores, the Caprice for violin solo by Myroslav Skoryk and a dazzling Caprice no. 24 (yes, that one) by Paganini.
The other piece in the programme was Richard Strauss’ Don Juan, which featured probably the most flexible and nuanced playing of the evening, with particularly fine work from the orchestra’s principal oboe and an opportunity for the orchestra’s horns to really let rip. There was time, too, for an encore, a touching little piece by the 19th-century Ukrainian composer Mikola Lysenko. This was the Farewell Waltz, a moving goodbye from the players at the end of what was evidently far more than just a concert.
