Sir Peter Maxwell Davies, Scottish Chamber Orchestra composer in residence in the late 1980s, seemed an appropriate choice to write a piece for this, the orchestra’s 40th anniversary year. As the title suggests, Concert Overture: Ebb of Winter was written during the approach of Spring this year and portrays the changing seasons in Maxwell Davies’ adopted homeland of Orkney. As many visitors know, these changes can occur from hour to hour and the piece reflects Orkney’s constantly changing climatic canvas. Contrasting textures included: horns with pizzicato strings; calmly bowed strings, whose frequently returning harmonies suggested a non-threatening darkness; solo oboe beautifully played by Robin Williams; animated horns topped with Peter Franks’ and Shaun Harrold’s impressive trumpet lines, the frenetic angularity of which reminded me of modern improvising players such as the Scottish National Jazz Orchestra’s Ryan Quigley, who has often occupied the same square metre of Queen’s Hall stage.
In his own programme note, Maxwell Davies mentioned that, in addition to climate, the piece is “influenced by Orkney folk music”. As far as I could ascertain in this world première no tunes were quoted – more the spirit and style of these islands, which can feel as Norse as they do Scottish. The short-long pairing of the Scotch snap, which features in Scottish speech rhythms, as well as the Highland dance known as the Strathspey, supplied a very useful musical function – to put a spring in the step of music whose tempo seems not especially brisk. A glockenspiel passage suggested sunlight refracted through rain drops. For a moment, I feared that the work was going to end on a held major chord. However, one last cloudburst of dissonance swerved us from this garden path towards the piece’s well received conclusion. It was wonderful to see the great man, dapper and energetic, take a bow and thank the orchestra for a thoroughly engaging performance.
American pianist Peter Serkin last appeared in this venue with Glasgow-born Oliver Knussen and the SCO in 2012, playing Hindemith’s Kammermusik no. 2 for piano and orchestra. The featured composer this time was Bartók – his 1945 Piano Concerto no. 3. Written at his life’s end, the work’s outer movements convey nothing of Bartók’s ill health and personal and financial struggles since finding refuge from European conflict in America. Both movements are energised by the short-long rhythm, even more common in Hungarian folk music and speech rhythms than Scottish. Although these movements were not quite as changeable as Maxwell Davies’, there were significant shifts in mood which were affectively enhanced with intelligent, sensitive observation of dynamics. I sensed commonality of approach between Serkin and Knussen: the complete absence of ostentation seemed the heart of this, each employing only the technique and expenditure of energy necessary to communicate the spirit of the music.