With Berlin in the midst of a cold July, warmer temperatures and sunlit vacations are probably on the minds of many of us in the city. Sensitive to this more or less unspoken plea, the Konzerthaus closed its season with a concert comprising some works inspired by Oceanus, the Titan god of fresh water. Led by Juraj Valčuha, the Konzerthausorchester initially sailed through two evocative pieces – Sibelius’ The Oceanides and Bernd Richard Deutsch’s Organ Concerto named Okeanos – to then land on Shostakovich’s First Symphony. For the concerto, the conductor was joined on stage by organist Iveta Apkalna.
Among the many musical renditions of seas and oceans, Sibelius’ symphonic poem The Oceanides brings to mind some series of paintings by Monet where the same subject is captured at different stages of the day. Valčuha’s rendition was observant: grasping the gradual changes on the surface, questioning its sameness, the conductor articulated the very nature of Sibelius’ sea, tracing its dramatic arc. The softness of the beginning, where flutes and violins resonated gently, was filled in by the brass, the orchestral texture quickly becoming denser and more animated. As impressive as it was, the build-up of the storm was presented as a most natural phenomenon, thanks to Valčuha’s control over the orchestra.
According to the notes that accompany Deutsch’s Okeanos, the title is meant to recall the two-fold tradition that surrounds this mythological figure – his being an ancient god of water, but also his representation as the primordial source of the entire world. If an orchestra is a world of sounds, and the organ is often described as an orchestra in itself, the two of them together constitute a whole universe – hence the name of the concerto. Its internal structure also bears extramusical associations, each of the four movements being titled after one of the classical elements of water, air, earth and fire.
Needless to say, a large inventory of musical cliches would have been free and ready for Deutsch to use. However, the score mostly steers clear of that. In the first movement, Valčuha highlighted its timbral inspiration, ranging from pristine, suspended sonorities to quivering roars. Apkalna followed, her organ camouflaging as different sets of instruments, enriched by silvery percussion and thundering low strings. Animated, vivacious figurations of the organ suggested breaths of fresh air in the second movement, which then became quite literal with the introduction of a wind machine. Through potent, sustained chords in dialogue with percussion, Apkalna and Valčuha plunged the audience in the depths of the earth, proceeding with cautious, slow movements tinged by the cor anglais and the trombones. Rhythm, the underlying force of the entire concerto, came to the forefront in the last movement. A real challenge for soloist and conductor alike, the constant shifts of meter gave Apkalna one more chance to burn bright, her virtuosic playing crowning the finale.
At a safe distance from the fury of the elements, the closing piece of the night echoed the series of First Symphonies which opened the Konzerthaus’ season. Valčuha’s interpretation of Shostakovich’s symphony maintained its duplicity as an early work: the growing awareness of a personal idiom, together with its ties to the past. The composer’s sardonic drive was apparent in the march of the first movement, ostensibly in the treatment of wind instruments. Valčuha also pinpointed the foreboding quality of slow sections, where solo melodies seem to float on, exposed and unquiet. At the same time, certain string-led orchestral crescendos were conducted with late-Romantic flair, creating a fascinating blend of styles which explains why audiences would have wanted to hear more from this promising young composer.
