This Auckland Philharmonia Orchestra concert was titled simply "Degenerate" and designed to showcase works that were – or would have been – banned for their so-called "degeneracy" during the Third Reich, either for the perceived "radical" nature of the music or for the simple fact the composer was Jewish. The inclusion of Stravinsky, Schoenberg and Mendelssohn, three composers almost as different as can be, revealed both the sheer variety of music that was banned as well as the great versatility of the Auckland Philharmonia Orchestra, with a particular revelation in the form of Michael Barenboim's spellbinding rendition of Schoenberg's Violin Concerto.
Originally written for jazz band before being rearranged for the San Francisco Symphony Orchestra, it is hard to discern any jazz elements to Stravinsky's Scherzo à la russe. It is more reminiscent of the highly rhythmic ballets he wrote for Diaghilev. Some uncharacteristic muddiness of ensemble clouded the opening statement but this was thankfully only a momentary issue; crispness of rhythm returned in time for the restatement of the first theme. Conductor Johannes Fritzsch brought welcome vitality to this theme, contrasting well with the delicate canon for piano and harp of the first Trio section.
Schoenberg, both radical and Jewish, was doubly offensive to the Third Reich and like the preceding Stravinsky work, his Violin Concerto was composed in the United States, to where he had fled from Hitler's regime. Though the work is characterised by Schoenberg's twelve-tone compositional technique, Fritzsch's sensitive conception was never academic, consistently shaped with true intensity and with vital attention given to rhythm. The orchestra proved to be totally immersed in Schoenberg's sound-world with many touching individual colorations, particularly in the sparsely orchestrated central movement.
Michael Barenboim was more than equal to the fiendish demands of the solo part, rock-solid enough in every technical aspect to be able to concentrate on giving fine attention to the detail of every phrase. There was a full range of tone colour on offer, Barenboim's violin whispering eerie high pianissimi one moment and unleashing passionate double-stopping the next. Particularly in the second and third movements, he really brought out a yearning quality in Schoenberg's twelve-tone melodic lines, which emerged as almost shockingly beautiful musical statements despite their angularity. The way Barenboim shaped his phrases often brought something close to a Mahlerian pathos and all of this was achieved with a consistently clear and alluring tone. Schoenberg's concerto is an unfairly neglected work and this was truly as fine a rendition as one could imagine.