The centenary of Britten’s birth has seen a surge in performances of his music both in the concert hall and on the stages of many a noted opera house. Sensationalised biographies, radio and television programmes, and a number of Britten-centred festivals have helped to pique further interest in a composer whose music tends to attract a love-hate relationship with its listeners. Unsurprisingly, Britten Sinfonia is in the midst of a busy year of imaginative concerts and hotly anticipated collaborations.
Last Wednesday’s lunchtime recital at Wigmore Hall chiefly comprised music by Britten and Bridge, and was conceived to show the similarities, rather than the differences, between Britten and his teacher. True it is that Frank Bridge wrote twee themes and variations on English tunes, but more than once he introduced angularity, unexpected progressions and dissonances into his composition; he gave Britten the foundation upon which he could make his own, very distinctive mark on the map. Conversely, Britten was better known for making efforts to establish his reputation well outside the musical mainstream, but his compositional idiosyncrasies also include conventional harmonies and a certain British charm.
Britten Sinfonia has various guises, and nowhere was this more palpable than in this recital. It began with co-founder and Principal Oboe Nicholas Daniel playing Britten’s Six Metamorphoses after Ovid, for solo oboe. Taking structural and narrative inspiration from Ovid’s fifteen-book poem Metamorphoses, the work describes musically six mythological characters, from the free-spirited Pan to the self-obsessed Narcissus. Daniel seemed to understand each of the six equally and perfectly – in between brief pauses, it was as though he was getting into character for the next movement. Although it is impossible to single out a particular favourite movement – each was utterly sublime – the audience chuckled at the frivolous ending to the fourth movement, depicting Bacchus.
Demonstrating just how good Britten’s understanding of individual instruments was, the next item in the programme was for solo cello. Tema Sacher is the briefest of pieces, lasting just over a minute, but it is packed with exquisite music. Britten, along with other leading lights, including Berio, Boulez and Lutosławski, was approached by renowned cellist Mstislav Rostropovich to write part of a series of ten variations as a 70th birthday present for the conductor Paul Sacher. He instead wrote the theme; inspired by Bach’s B-A-C-H, he wrote a theme on S-A-C-H-E-R (“Es” being the German for E flat, “H” being the German for B, and the “R” signifying the French “Ré”, or D). Britten reworks an odd sequence of notes into something magical and intense. Cellist Caroline Dearnley displayed an extraordinary range of technical skill, with seemingly endless position-changing and double-stopping – not to mention the dynamic range. Despite its brevity, at the end it felt as though I’d been treated to a full-blown concerto.