Before the interval of this City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra programme, we were invited to engage with Felix Mendelssohn in new ways, beginning with an innovative orchestral arrangement of the piano score of the Sonata for Clarinet and Piano. Unfortunately, this was the only time we were treated to the sumptuous sound of Jörg Widmann’s clarinet, which soared like an albatross in the acoustics of Symphony Hall. This was a solo display of tonal quality and control rather than any virtuosic showmanship, but the beauty of the simple melodic line was enthralling, enhanced by a reimagined soundscape of orchestral colour.
Widmann was completely at ease, playing and conducting with minimal effort, raising his eyebrows and nodding his head here and there, smiling a lot, and yet achieving tremendous nuances thanks to an attentive and responsive CBSO. The conclusion of the Andante (the only movement from the sonata performed) was an incredibly long and warm pianissimo note, so fragile that the audience and I held our breath until he had finished lest we disturb its beauty. Regrettably, we did not hear the full sonata, but it is often a good idea for musicians to leave their audiences wanting more.
Widmann left the stage for the second piece, which was a deconstruction and reconstruction of the famous motif from Mendelssohn’s Wedding March. CBSO violinist Jonathan Martindale took full advantage of his moment in the spotlight to shine with a virtuosic solo that explored the diverse capabilities of his instrument, from triplet knuckle raps on the wood of the corpus to the harmonics of the strings.
As a composer and an arranger, Widmann clearly enjoys toying with instrumental sounds in this way, and this was made even more apparent when he returned to the stage to conduct his own composition, Danse macabre. This was a joyous dance with death that reminded us not to take life too seriously. It was a fun, spooky and quirky excursion to the underworld. The aural imagery is haunted with ghoulish woodwinds, slow screams from the strings, frightening brass blasts, and a skeletal celeste seemingly plucking its own bones. There was never any real foreboding sense of mortal finality, rather, it was a celebration of ghostly characters.
With a fresh arrangement, defamiliarising and reconstructing a famous tune, and reimaging the dance of death, the first half of the concert was about innovation. The second half was played straight. The programme was more Mendelssohn, with his Hebrides Overture and Symphony no. 5, (aka Fingal’s Cave and the Reformation Symphony). Widmann conducted as if he had nothing to prove and everything to enjoy. The tempo, orchestral balance and dynamics were perfectly judged and underpinned by an energy that never wavered. His enjoyment of the music was contagious and it was obvious that CBSO were enjoying themselves equally, as they were in fine form and did not hold back on their fortissimos. The brass and woodwind sections were perfectly balanced and in unison, with a particularly wonderful sound emanating from the solo flute in the final movement of the symphony. Widmann and the CBSO gave the impression that they enjoy performing together as much as they enjoy the music they perform, and this joy spread throughout the auditorium.
