In the Gewandhaus shop, a compilation CD entitled Leipzig Classics sits proudly in a stand: Bach, Mendelssohn, Schumann, Wagner and Grieg, who all had considerable connections to the city, are represented. And Richard Strauss? Entirely absent. Strauss does not have many significant associations with Leipzig; he occasionally conducted the Gewandhaus and the first complete cycle of Strauss tone poems was presented in Leipzig, under Arthur Nikisch in the 1920/21 season. Despite this, the Gewandhaus has embarked on a series of Strauss events, culminating in yesterday evening’s concert under Riccardo Chailly to mark the 150th anniversary of the birth of the composer.
As well as being a celebration of Strauss, the concert also marked a significant farewell. Principal cellist Jürnjakob Timm made his final appearance with the orchestra, which rewarded him with the solo role as Cervantes’ knight-errant, Don Quixote. It seemed that nerves (understandably enough) got to him early on, with a slightly thin tone, but he soon settled into an affectionate account, the Don’s soliloquy before his death nostalgic without being dewy-eyed. Timm played on the ‘Klengel cello’, that played by Julius Klengel, former principal cellist of the Gewandhaus until 1924, so a sound that Strauss himself will have known.
Principal viola Vincent Aucante provided witty commentary as his faithful sidekick, Sancho Panza. Yet the chief glory of this performance, and in the concert as a whole, was the terrific sound produced by the Gewandhaus Orchestra. It is built on a sturdy foundation of lower strings that few orchestras can match. The dark-hued palette of its double basses (positioned behind the first violins) and cellos is full of chocolate and mahogany tints, while lower woodwinds impressed with their dancing, chortling harmoniemusik of the Don’s meeting with Dulcinea. The tenor tuba and bass clarinet pairing to support Sancho Panza’s dialogue with the Don was most characterful, while the bass tuba and contrabassoon glissandos at the end of Variation IV (Unhappy adventure with a procession of pilgrims) was delightfully rude. Flutter-tongued brass brought Variation II’s flock of sheep to vivid life, while the tilting at windmills was vivdly brought to life by col legno cellos and whirring flutes and piccolo.
By its very nature an episodic work, Chailly managed to steer a clear narrative through this account of Don Quixote. His conducting style relies on precision, without recourse to grandstanding gestures.