A wedding feast, a man in drag and an outwitted fox were unlikely accomplices in the second concert in the Philharmonia's series Stravinsky: Myths and Rituals. In a concert entitled Tales, Esa-Pekka Salonen focussed on three vocal works, composed in close proximity during exile imposed by the First World War. They hark back to old Russia, full of nostalgia despite none being based on authentic folksong or rhyme. This splendid evening was given additional Russian authenticity by featuring young soloists from the Mariinsky Theatre. With open palms scything the air, Salonen led sharply rhythmic performances, driving Stravinsky's often relentless music forward powerfully.
The burlesque Renard was composed in Switzerland in 1915-16, although it had to wait until 1922 for its première by the Ballets Russes at the Paris Opéra. It's a nonsense tale of how the vixen, Renard, tries to capture a cockerel, but is outfoxed, her attempts foiled by the cockerel and his allies, the cat and the ram. Director Irina Brown added four male dancers to the score's cast of four male singers, presenting the action on a raised stage behind the Philharmonia Orchestra. Entering to an off-kilter march, swerving between duple and triple time, the atmosphere of a circus was immediately created, the singers clad in brightly coloured silk cossack shirts. Our vixen wore striped tights and an orange tutu, its disguises including a headdress of an Orthodox priest to try and lure the cockerel from its perch. Quinny Sacks' choreography helped tell the tale, a trio of kicks and ankle flicks eventually driving the vixen away.
Having the singers mixing with the dancers on the platform helped integrate the action, although one bass voice was almost completely lost as a result. Salonen caught the work's sense of mischief via an unusual ensemble of single strings dominated by woodwinds and brass. Into the mix came the virtuosic cimbalom playing of Cyril Dupuy – Stravinsky had discovered the instrument while dining with Ernest Ansermet and completely fell in love with it, acquiring one shortly afterwards. The cimbalom isn't remotely Russian, but its tangy clangorous tone added an earthy, peasant feel to this pithy score.
So what does become of Renard? Director Irina Brown is in no doubt. A fox pelt adorns the shoulders of Natalia Pavlova's Parasha at the beginning of Mavra, Stravinsky's minuscule opera buffa. Parasha inveigles her lover, Vassily, into the household disguised as 'Mavra', the new cook. All sorts of things sizzle in the kitchen until Parasha's mother and their nosey neighbour discover 'Mavra' shaving. Vassily takes flight through the window and the opera just stops. Stravinsky's music is full of strutting syncopation, although there are nostalgic, folksy wind chords in the brief prelude. Unusual orchestral forces were evident here too – two violins and a viola over a weighty foundation of a full cello section and four double basses. A highlight came via a grumpy trumpet solo as 'Mavra' angrily sweeps the stage. Simply staged in front of a hessian backdrop, it worked splendidly.