A week after devoting a programme to military-related themes in the music of Haydn, Beethoven and Mahler, Daniele Gatti and the Orchestra dell'Accademia Nazionale di Santa Cecilia came back focusing on nature evoked in works by the same composers.
The performance started with a nice surprise: a rare rendition of Haydn’s brief madrigal Der Sturm/ La Tempesta Hob.XXIVa:8. First performed in 1792, with an ABAB form and just a few elements of harmonic counterpoint, it is a work of noble simplicity, unmistakably Haydnesque. It can be seen without difficulty as pointing the way to not-so-distant masterpieces as Haydn’s own The Creation or Beethoven’s Pastoral Symphony, the work ending this very programme. Gatti conveyed individuality to the repeated Allegro con brio (describing the punishing storm) and Andante (the serenity of tempest’s aftermath) segments. Significantly distanced among themselves, the members of the Santa Cecilia chorus occasionally had difficulties in maintaining their unison. Nevertheless, phrases were beautifully shaped.
Like Haydn and many other artists of the Enlightenment and Romantic eras, Beethoven was deeply interested in natural phenomena, seen (or not) as physical expressions of a higher purpose. As in Haydn’s case, there are multiple compositions of his explicitly evoking tempests, but none is as famous as his Pastoral. There have been numerous attempts (including empirical ones, based on computer programs) to find justifications for how Beethoven’s odd-numbered symphonies differ qualitatively from the even-numbered ones. The Pastoral is clearly the most evident rebuttal of such foolish beliefs. Without being exceptional in any way, this rendition easily reminded everyone how innovative – structurally, melodically, as a programmatic exercise – the Sixth Symphony must have sounded to the Viennese public attending its famous premiere. Gatti balanced well the need for an overall structure with the emphasis on significant details. The storm was less destructive than in other interpretations. Anchored by the disturbing overlapping of cellos’ quintuplets and basses’ semiquavers, the music suggested inevitability. The first movement was contemplative, but “painted” with rigour, like a Poussin landscape. The last, hymn-like movement foreshadowed the spirit of the Ninth's Ode to Joy. The interpretation of both the Allegro ma non troppo and the Allegretto could have benefited from starker dynamic contrasts. At the same time, the birdcalls in the Scene by the brook dominated the soundscape and the lively give and take between bassoon, oboe and clarinet in the Scherzo was allowed proper space to breathe.