Themes of nature and ecology are at the centre of the Berliner Philharmoniker’s ongoing Biennale, whose title (“Paradise lost?”) addresses concerns about changing climate conditions and their reflection in music. For her participation at the festival – as well as debut at the head of the orchestra – Marin Alsop put together a programme that explored the concept of ‘homeland’ as a cherished environment, rather than a geographically defined entity to obtusely defend. Works related to Alsop’s own homelands – Copland’s Appalachian Spring Suite and Villa-Lobos’ Chôros no. 10 – were paired with the world premiere of Outi Tarkiainen’s Day Night Day and Brett Dean’s Fire Music, given its first German performance.
Despite the large proportions of its ensemble, Tarkiainen’s Day Night Day is a miniature that manifests the composer’s connection to the Finnish taiga. Not just fascination for the landscape, but mostly a homage to its people – the native Sámi – are what drives this short orchestral work. The atmospheric timbres of harp, celesta and woodwinds embrace the audience, and soon a trumpet melody comes to the foreground: it is inspired by a joik, a type of song traditional to Sámi music. Alsop opened up the score’s pianissimos into a mesmerising symphonic richness, where minimal interval movements from the strings and the harp evoked the brightness typical of sunlight reflecting off snow. After a broad tutti with brass and percussions in the spotlight, Alsop returned to quiet again, leading the solo woodwinds into a rendition of the Sámi lullaby Sjamma, Sjamma.
On the opposite side of the elemental spectrum, Brett Dean’s Fire Music is a raging tour de force that darts and rumbles, hardly giving the audience – and the conductor – any respite. Dean, a former Berlin Phil viola player, composed it after the tragic Black Saturday bushfires of 2009 in Victoria, Australia. Heavily reliant on sound-painting, Fire Music finds its best quality in its instrumental and acoustic melanges: the score calls for a large orchestra (including several percussions and an electric guitar) plus three additional chamber groups placed around the hall. That one person alone is appointed to contain such flames is perhaps indicative of humans’ limited control over natural disasters – but Alsop managed not to get burnt. The muffled vibrations of a bass drum roll, thunder sheets and a flute trill quickly spread to the whole orchestra, in a state of emergency which persisted with crashes and bangs for the entire performance. Alsop stayed on top of the breakneck tempos, saturated volumes and timbral quirks, enveloping the audience with Dean’s enhanced stereophony.
To a European who has never seen rural North America, Appalachian Spring feels like strolling between Pictures at an Exhibition, its movements depicting short scenes of American life past. Here, Alsop indulged in Copland’s simple realism: her interpretation favoured soft, unhurried lyricism in the slow sections and unruly, genuine energy in Allegros. A frank approach to melody and good dramatic pulse brought out the outline of Copland’s narrative.
Bringing in a whole choir for the last work of the evening – and one that lasts less than 20 minutes at that – may be an unusual choice, but who’s to say it can’t be a successful one? Joined by Berlin’s Rundfunkchor, Alsop gave a taste of her time as the Chief Conductor of the Sâo Paulo Symphony with Villa-Lobos’ Chôros no. 10. The piece is not just musically captivating, but also a crowd-pleaser. After a middle section where every solo was imbued with a suspended, sultry quality, Alsop dived head first into the finale, building up an infectious rhythmic propulsion that had orchestra, choir and audience head-bopping to the very end.
