The rarity of visits from top quality international orchestras to the UK (at venues rarely north of The Barbican), combined with a much-feted Liverpudlian ‘homecoming’ for Sir Simon Rattle, gave this opening night of the Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra’s European tour a huge sense of occasion.
On the face of it, Rattle’s chosen programme for the Liverpool and Birmingham stops on this tour was relatively simple, comprising Schumann’s Second Symphony and the complete Firebird ballet – a relative rarity compared to the less unwieldy 1919 Suite. In a few brief words at the end of the concert, Rattle recalled his own awe at seeing orchestra and conductor in perfect unity at the BRSO’s last visit to the city, just over 50 years ago, with Rafael Kubelík. Tonight neither work required a conductor’s score, and one sensed that with his new Munich band, Rattle is striving for the same perfection.
The approach to the Schumann was characterised by an apparent total relaxation of sound, with nothing ever seeming forced or hurried, even in the Scherzo. There was a soft warmth to the brass from the very opening bars, trumpets playing with all the well-rounded glow of a clarinet in its lower register, and matched by a rich string plushness, even with a couple of desks shorn from each section. There was a strong contribution from particularly prominent double basses, most of all in the slow movement, and even when the whole orchestra was held to a soft whisper. The more lively second and fourth movements were fleet footed and nimble, sparkling woodwinds almost dancing with their instruments in their seats. The diminuendo to hushed darkness just before the coda hinted neatly at some sense of darkness underlying the music, though the last pages were suitably jubilant.
Heavy reinforcements were added to the stage after the interval for what Stravinsky referred to as the “wastefully large” orchestra required for his Firebird ballet music. At 50 minutes, the complete ballet is nearly double the length of the suite, but here Rattle made the strongest possible case for the full thing, treating it as a concerto for orchestra rather than mere ballet accompaniment. This was achieved while also maintaining some sense of structure to what might otherwise have been a sprawling tangle of music.
The catalogue of exceptional individual and sectional playing was too long to list here, though chief among them were principal woodwind and horn soloists. The winds’ dialogue with one another was utterly convincing, while also playing with sumptuously rich tone (above all the oboe, again supported by those prominent double basses). With immaculate ensemble and accuracy even in the trickiest corners of the score and some remarkable sounds conjured up for the fiendish string harmonics, this was a performance of total technical security. Elsewhere there was enough diabolical energy in the Infernal Dance to pin the listener back in one’s seat, followed by what must be the quietest pianissimo I have ever heard from a full-sized string just before the blazing finale.
The reception from the capacity audience, needless to say, was ecstatic, and an excerpt from Fauré’s Pelléas et Mélisande was a sensitively selected encore.
