How about a quiz question to start? Which of JS Bach’s celebrated sons was known as the Berlin Bach and which as the London Bach? It was Carl Philipp Emanuel who spent almost three decades in the service of Frederick the Great before succeeding Telemann as Kapellmeister in Hamburg, whereas his much younger brother Johann Christian achieved later fame in London. Suffice it to say that the prodigiousness of musical talent in the Bach family has scarcely been surpassed.
One of CPE Bach’s three cello concertos (which also exist in versions for flute and harpsichord) was chosen by Laura van der Heijden for her concerto appearance with Aurora Orchestra conducted by Nicholas Collon. The A minor work is suffused with explosions of youthful spirit. With its Sturm und Drang ethos it is very much a get-up-and-go package, ideally suited to the energetic freshness and robust earthiness van der Heijden brought to the part. Her nimble agility in the final movement was especially effective in the dramatic, almost inquisitorial, exchanges between her and the 13 Aurora string players. How good also to hear the separate voice of the harpsichord, so often submerged in other performances.
One of Aurora’s strengths comes from programming works designed for a chamber ensemble where every skein of sound is made to tell. Ligeti’s Ramifications was written for an ensemble of twelve strings divided into two groups, one of which is tuned a quarter tone higher than the other. The intricate layering of textures is one part of the picture, producing sounds that veer from mechanical ventilation to seething and sizzling as if from a cauldron, with a gentle growling from the sole double bass. Yet equally important is the swooping and whirling of each tiny fragment, akin to a murmuration of starlings, underlining the sense of perpetual movement. The composer’s precise markings down to an unusual pppppp and an instruction for the closing bar to “stop suddenly as though torn off” were splendidly realised by Collon and his virtuoso players. This was not so much a mass aerial stunt as a mass aural stunt.
The performance of Schubert’s Symphony no. 9 in C major was nothing if not unconventional. It had all the usual Aurora qualities of energy, commitment and precision of ensemble. Aurora’s collective approach requires that you listen to a familiar work with fresh ears. However, the hallmark of any good interpretation is that the listener must feel at any given point that this is the only way to play the piece. That was not the case here. I have often felt that the role of the trombones is underplayed, since they deliver a dark and ominous colouring to a score that can sometimes be misunderstood as an unbroken spell of sunniness. But Collon went to the other extreme. He had his three players, otherwise outstanding in tone and rhythmic acuity, standing high up in the gallery so that they towered over the orchestra. They were ever-present, delivering the underpinning that more usually comes from the lower strings. This dramatic highlighting can sometimes be offset by moments of repose as well as stronger dynamic contrasts. Collon sometimes failed to do due justice to the softer, quieter moments. In the Andante con moto, when the massive climax takes you by the scruff of the neck and shakes you, there should be more than a mere second of silence to recover from the shock. Collon’s briskness throughout the symphony ultimately led to a one-dimensional view: all the notes were certainly there, but the spirit of the piece, its grace and charm, had all but disappeared.
