There is a lot of Bruckner about at the moment. In the first four months of 2024 (the 200th anniversary of the composer’s birth) four of his symphonies (and a motet) have been scheduled to be performed at the Bridgewater Hall, starting with the Third, played on Saturday by the BBC Philharmonic under Chief Conductor John Storgårds, in the 1876-7 Nowak edition. This is essentially the version of the first performance in Vienna rather than the original 1873 score, which was not published until over a century later, or the more frequently played 1889 revision. Aficionados may have their preferences for one version over another, but opportunities to hear the symphony live at all are infrequent and we were treated to a glorious performance in Manchester.
From the shimmering strings and the trumpet solo at the beginning, it was evident that we were at the start of a momentous journey. Storgårds maintained momentum without rushing. The build-ups to the mighty climaxes and the releases of tension were deftly handled. Some might see this music in terms of cathedral architecture or natural landscapes; for me it was the musical logic that drove it forward. The first movement brought gradual crescendos and pauses for breath which seemed necessary and natural. The second movement was solemn but grand, suggesting a formal occasion. The Scherzo was energetic and gripping but with threatening undertones. In the Finale there were cheerful episodes contrasting with atmospheric quiet moments and climaxes rising out of nowhere, dominated by the brass. The juxtaposition of the light and serious, the loud and quiet, was startling. The return of the trumpet tune from the beginning brought us full circle and, in the words of the evening’s programme note, “the cathedral floods with light”.
The concert started with Beethoven’s Egmont Overture, the only familiar piece on the programme. In the space of less than ten minutes Beethoven manages to encapsulate the drama of Goethe’s historical tragedy. The BBC Philharmonic gave a rousing performance, with the stirring stings and brass preparing us for the more expansive Bruckner to come later.
This was followed by the Leino Songs by Kaija Saariaho, who died in June last year. These four songs were composed in 2007, setting poems by the Finnish poet Eino Leino from the late 19th and early 20th century. Saariaho uses a very large orchestra to create unusual timbres and moods, glockenspiel, vibraphone and celesta all prominent. The whole orchestra rarely plays together, however, and here never threatened to overwhelm the singer. Often the music was very quiet. Elizabeth Atherton’s clear, bright soprano joined the orchestra almost like another instrument, floating over exotic combinations of instruments to create quite beautiful sounds. The first and last songs (I watch you and Evening Prayer) struck me as particularly beautiful with sparkling orchestral textures supporting the voice. The second song (My heart) was darker and harder to grasp on first hearing. The third (Peace) uses low instruments to reflect the text referring to the natural world and sounded quite magical. I look forward to hearing this remarkable work again.
