It’s an open secret that the Finns have a very strong connection with nature. Even though, or maybe because of, having to endure many months of darkness, their love of the outdoors permeates every aspect of their life, including music. Finnish guest conductor Mikko Franck brought a programme of compositions from his homeland to life during his appearance with the Berliner Philharmoniker.
The evening started out with the brief A Requiem in our Time for brass and percussion by Einojuhani Rautavaara. He composed it in 1953 and dedicated it to his mother, who had been a medical doctor in a military hospital. Suffering a nervous breakdown, she fled the bombing of Helsinki with 11-year-old Einojuhani to her hometown Oulu, but died there at just 44 years of age. The opening trombone fanfare Hymnus was electrifying, only to continue Vivace, compelling the story to the Dies irae with the staccato march of war drums and ending with a plaintive Lacrymosa recited by the tuba, ending in sweet rest.
Esa-Pekka Salonen, a student of Rautavaara's and composer-in-residence with the Berliner Philharmoniker this season, wrote his Karawane for chorus and orchestra in 2014. Salonen based his piece on the Dada poet Hugo Ball's nonsense sound poem Caravan, written in 1916. With the Rundfunkchor Berlin and orchestra, there were about 150 people on stage, creating an important body of sound. The 30-minute work is divided into two parts. The percussionists let rainstones trickle, played bongos, xylophone, bass drum and whistle, while the pianist switched from celesta to grand piano. The choir whispered, shouted, contributed amusing scat singing and murmured secrets. It is said that the Dada poet had an elephant parade in mind. It is to be hoped that Salonen had as much fun writing this piece as Franck and his musicians had playing it, especially with the fortissimo hullabaloo chaotic finale.
After intermission came Jean Sibelius' glorious Symphony no. 5 in E flat major, quite the standard Finnish rep piece but always a joy to hear. Although composed between 1914-19, at a time when Stravinsky had already created a scandal with Le Sacre du printemps in Paris, the musical language of Sibelius was still firmly entrenched in the romanticism of the late 19th century. Franck understands this. He is not a showman, rather he coaxed a transparent and lyric sound from the Berliners, a suppleness that so easily let us associate all three movements with the glory of the evoked Finnish lakes, forests and skies and the wonderful soaring of the wild swans in the third movement finale. The orchestra followed their guest conductor willingly, with opulently radiant tutti in the first two movements, right down to the gradual fading of Sibelius’ musical landscape at the end.
All three pieces gave us an insight into the musical language of Finland past and present, leaving us curious to discover more.
