The thing that caught my attention about this BBC Symphony Orchestra programme was that all three works could be considered personal expressions of resolve; the determination to overcome the dark pressures of adversity with powerful and elegant utterances. Toru Takemitsu’s Requiem for string orchestra was written when the composer was on his sick-bed, and also mourning the death of a close friend; Toshio Hosokawa’s Prayer for violin and orchestra, was conceived as a response to the composer’s fight against Covid and his reaction to Russia’s invasion of Ukraine; and Shostakovich’s Fifth Symphony, an alleged statement of contrition that, to my ears, always manages to confound any admission of guilt. In performance, all those things were below the surface of the music, shadows trailing behind the superlative readings given by a world-class orchestra, a first-rate violinist, Sayaka Shoji, and a hugely talented conductor, Kahchun Wong.
Takemitsu’s eight-minute work, despite its title, is not in the least restful. It is an extraordinarily powerful outpouring of passion that was marvellously evoked by the intensity and finesse of the BBCSO’s playing. The texture of the writing, constructed of something heavier than gold, glowed with the intense light and sonorous shades elicited by the conductor; the short solo lines, early examples of Takemitsu’s lyrical gifts, were finely etched into that texture. The overall effect could be compared to the contemplation of an ikon, not for religious or spiritual succour, but for experiencing a very fine object displayed to great effect by curators aware that it is priceless.
There was no obvious devotional content in Hosokawa’s piece, here receiving its UK premiere. However, the title is a reference to the “prayers” uttered by Buddhist statues in Japan. What emerged from the score was a very vivid concerto in five parts that showed the composer to be a master of both form and orchestration. The exchange of material between soloist and ensemble is well-judged, producing a large palette of colours. At several points the texture of the violin’s voice surfaces as the after-glow of the brass and of the woodwind. Shoji’s playing drew flashes of fire in the animated sections and touches of lyrical grace in both the opening and closing bars of the piece and Wong clearly had the score under his skin.
Seeing the title of Takemitsu’s piece alongside the name of Shostakovich reminded me of Anna Akhmatova’s extraordinary poem Requiem, in which she writes about being in Leningrad, “with her people”, suffering. The composer was there, too, and likewise suffering. How much of that is implanted into his Fifth Symphony remains a moot point, as it should. Wong’s reading of the work struck me as being about the music – its imposing overall architecture, its harmonic richness, its colourful gestures, its strident militarism and, at its, core, its undoubted emotional power. Those were the things that the conductor drew from the BBCSO, a band on its mettle and in commanding form. For me, the magical point of the performance (and of the evening) was the segue from the slow movement to the finale: a breathtaking moment.
I am looking forward to other such moments from Wong. He knows how to be in the service of composers and their work: at the end of the Takemitsu and the Hosokawa he presented their scores to the audience; and he conducted Shostakovich from memory. He will no doubt set Manchester alight when he succeeds Sir Mark Elder at the Hallé. Indeed, he will turn heads and move hearts wherever he goes.
