Running down the famous Concertgebouw stairs with the energy of one half his age, Vladimir Jurowski joined the Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra for programme of Mozart and Bruckner – quite a restrained choice for a conductor famed for repertoire perhaps more diverse and less well-known. But this was a conscious decision: to play “something the musicians know well” and “to learn from them”. Archive research reveals that the RCO have played Mozart’s Symphony no. 40 in G minor a total of 192 times over the course of their history, starting with a performance in 1889 with the first principal conductor, Willem Kes a year after the orchestra was founded. In the intervening years, performances with Bruno Walter, Bernard Haitink, Nikolas Harnoncourt and latterly in February 2019 with Daniel Harding in New York have graced many a stage. So this is indeed a work the musicians know well.
What followed was a Mozart symphony full of sophistication, grace and elegance. With all the musicians on their feet (except the four cellos), Jurowski swept us along with a transparent sound canopy, full of questions and just as many answers. Surprising accents kept all on their toes. Principal Flute Emily Beynon was on fine form as were the rest of the woodwinds. Observing both repeats in the Andante was perhaps a stretch for some in the audience, but the sprightly Menuetto, full of quirky syncopated rhythms, clouded the memory. In the more leisurely Trio, delicate upbeats from both the oboe and horn charmed before the violas took centre-stage with their series of descending scales. Everything seemed fresh and there were smiles all around.
Distinctive horn sounds, like little pops of colour, continued in Bruckner’s Symphony no. 1 in C minor, (1868 Linz version). Yes, the horns were dominant as you would expect in Bruckner, but the first climax was a measured affair and didn’t quite delve into the full horror and descent into hell which can sometimes be the case. An exciting return of the opening theme was accompanied by lower strings, relentlessly trudging onward. However, the Allegro felt a little disjointed, as if Jurowski was still searching. The difference in his conducting style here was noticeable. Whereas in the Mozart we had witnessed a constant pursuit of length of line in phrasing and Jurowski had quite obviously devolved absolute trust to those standing before him, he now employed a much more prescriptive style of conducting, one centred on giving the beat.
Normal service resumed in the Andante which conjured visions of a heavenly commune with our Maker above. And with the trumpets leading the fray in the Scherzo, vision and shape were in abundance in what became almost a game of hide and seek, the violas again at the helm. All was initially let loose in the Finale, a movement with no obvious initial melody, instead a series of musical fragments. Perhaps even Bruckner, the master organist sitting in his organ loft in full improvisatory mode, looking for that magic moment. A gravelly double bass and clarinet counter-melody, right at the bottom of their range drew us in. With playing of the highest order by all musicians on stage, Jurowski made the most of the hall’s acoustic in some dramatic and lengthy silences. But a return to ‘conducting the beat’ invoked previous uncertainty and we never quite felt the overwhelming power and terror of a ravaged timpani and brass. Perhaps the search continues.
