An eccentric programme of music centred on the early years of the 20th century went down a storm at the Bridgewater Hall, with the world première of John Casken's new oboe concerto a grimly stark contrast to socialist ballet music by Shostakovich and Weill.
The young Shostakovich wrote his ballet The Golden Age in 1929 after a request for music to accompany a story about the plight of a Soviet football team touring Western Europe. In the music hall scene (Act III scene 1) the decadent Western bourgeoisie are portrayed in a series of six dances, in which the Hallé found a great deal of wit and irony. The opening Tap Dance was oddly sinister, while the trumpet and xylophone solos were amusingly mischievous interventions. The xylophone playing was particularly memorable in the Polka, where the extended solos were given with great character in a relatively soft-edged sound.
The final two dances were enormous fun. "The Dance of the Diva and the Fascist" was noisy and decadent in the extreme, and the ensuing Can-can was brilliantly sleazy. The trombones, who had been providing frequent yawning glissandi, engaged in comic duets with trumpet in music of a distinct circus feel. It later became a furious frenzy with horns held aloft and great energy from all corners. After galloping to a riotous conclusion, Elder lunging the last note into the front desk of the cellos, the immediate giddy whoops from the audience were entirely appropriate. As someone later remarked, it was like a Russian version of Tom and Jerry cartoons.
John Casken's Apollinaire's Bird was one of those new pieces which one immediately wants to hear again. Commissioned by the Hallé, written for its Principal Oboe and dedicated to its Chief Executive, there was a strong feeling pre-concert of people willing it to go well. That it did, with soloist Stéphane Rancourt giving a tour de force of flawless technique and supreme musicality. The work is inspired by the poem Un oiseau chante, written in the trenches of the First World War by Guillaume Apollinaire, and is scored for oboe and large orchestra. The bird (oboe) hovers above the battle, often detached and acting as a reminder of the outside world, but movingly affected in the first part of the second movement.
The bleak textures of the first movement painted a stark image of the trenches, most of all in the vast battery of percussion, where cross-stage echoes of snare drum rim shots, cymbals and cabassa were distinctly battle erupted. From Rancourt's opening solo, a short figure which is repeated throughout the work, and later flashes of the sweetest avian chirp, he played with beguiling charm and strong, engaging character. He showed remarkable stamina to sustain such intensity. There was fine playing from his colleagues in the orchestra too. Carl Nielsen's own war-inspired Symphony no. 5 was brought to mind by some of the wilder clarinet solos.
Mark Elder did an excellent job of balancing the sound to allow Rancourt's playing to sit just above the orchestra, as well as pacing the greater structure to highlight the deeply moving playing in the second movement. Here the achingly mournful orchestral playing had a profound effect on the the bird, who briefly seems to feel the sorrows of the trenches with painful expression. The oboe's repeated perfect fifth figures above deep orchestral rumbles were shockingly, movingly bleak at the very end. It was a superb performance of an outstanding piece, exceptionally well received, and Casken, taking his bows, looked delighted. Intriguingly, the performance is to be released as a free download soon after the concert.