Prom 39 presented a highly unique programme, featuring composers all celebrating a milestone this year. Mozart’s First Symphony was composed exactly 250 years ago, the year of Jean-Philippe Rameau’s death. Richard Strauss continues his 150th birthday anniversary celebrations, and a performance of Bernard Rands’ new Concerto for piano and orchestra marks his 80th birthday year.
Opening the programme was the Suite drawn from Rameau’s opera-ballet, Les Indes galantes. A work of the high French Baroque, all love, exoticism and general revelry, I was surprised by what felt like a rather restrained start from the small ensemble chosen from the BBC SSO for its performance. While the phrasing was often quite beautiful and the ornaments well articulated, it was not until the fourth movement that the orchestra began to play with real conviction and energy that this music so requires.
The orchestra’s tone throughout was deep and velvety rich, quite different from that of specialist “historically informed” ensembles that more commonly perform such repertoire. Instead of the more open sound that often characterises these ensembles, and without the inimitable tone that period instruments can produce, the music felt much weightier, and I could not help but miss that particular timbre of the harpsichord and other instruments that so enlivens this music. Though well articulated in that unique French Baroque style, this remained a somewhat reserved performance – at moments where the line yearns to be carried through to the next phrase, the players shied away anticlimactically, and despite its clean execution, it never seemed wholly convinced of itself.
While the Suite of Les Indes galantes received its first performance at the Proms, Bernard Rands’ Concerto for piano and orchestra received its UK première, first performed by Jonathan Biss and the Boston Symphony Orchestra in April this year. The title of the work is carefully chosen: this is not a concerto of the 19th century tradition, but one in which the piano (again played by Biss) and orchestra are both equal partners in the musical discourse. The opening of the first movement illustrates this immediately as ideas transfer fluidly from one to the other. A sustained lyrical line, contrasted with staccato interjections is passed around the ensemble, the piano merging with, or emerging from, the orchestral texture in a subtle interplay of timbres. Small melodic phrases provide points of reflection and orientation, and combined with the lyricism and logic of Rands’ musical language, this was contemporary music that you never felt alienated or lost from, but was rather unremittingly engaged in throughout.
The second, and with a nod to the past, slow middle movement, opened almost inaudibly. Slow and intensely introspective, a hushed atmosphere descended as the music gradually unfolded. The quiet, modest entrance of the piano was utterly magical, and Biss seemed to be in perfect communion with the orchestra. every passage was performed with utter dedication to the musical intention, either intensely inward or resonantly declamatory.
The final movement is built around an ever-expanding tremolo, while staccato interjections remind us strongly of the first movement. Parts were again transferred between sections with excellent coordination, yet this shimmering texture was somehow more unsettled, at times even sinister. As Stenz skilfully brought the piece to its hushed close, I found the BBCSSO had me wholly transfixed from start to finish in this highly imaginative and thrilling musical discourse.