A solitary metronome elevated on a pedestal – a nod to the famed Poème Symphonique for 100 metronomes – clicked away as the audience gathered inside Queen Elizabeth Hall for an evening celebration of György Ligeti’s centenary.
The first half featured a mix of shorter pieces by Ligeti, intertwining his earlier works with later ones. The opening movement, the Allegro con spirito from the Six Bagatelles for wind quintet, set a lively start. Performed with the utmost rhythmic exuberance and great handling of dynamics by members of the London Sinfonietta, it immediately won the audience's applause. The rest of the set was tight, played with great effortlessness. Following an insightful discussion on all-things-Ligeti between pianist Pierre-Laurent Aimard and conductor Vimbayi Kaziboni – though at times heavy on technical jargon – the Sinfonietta presented two études, Arc-en-ciel and En Suspens arranged by Hans Abrahamsen. Under Kaziboni’s direction, the pieces resonated with soft, lullaby-like sonorities.
After a preparatory break (which were too numerous and hindered the flow of the concert), Jonathan Morton and Emily Trubshaw burst forth with the folky Balada si joc for two violins. Their sorrowful and wailing rendition gave way to great vigour and roughness in the second part of the piece, though the fortissimo finale could have been more exaggerated. Tim Gill took the stage as soloist in Ligeti’s Cello Concerto. His cool handling of extremely quiet dynamics at the start of the piece – eight pianos, no less – was truly commendable, as was his execution of the eerie harmonics and textures created by gliding up and down the strings. Kaziboni made the ensemble sound more like electric sine waves than acoustic instruments, a fitting tribute to Ligeti’s vision. The atmosphere was so palpable that at times the gravity of silences resembled those of John Cage’s 4’33”. Not a single cough was heard.
The second half began with Piece no. 2 for Small Orchestra by Conlon Nancarrow, an influence on Ligeti, whom he praised as “the greatest discovery since Webern and Ives”. The ensemble didn’t fully live up to the level of mayhem needed to unleash the erratic polyphony of this work, though both pianists excelled in delivering mechanical chords reminiscent of Nancarrow’s player piano pieces. The theatrical, Kagel-esque nature of “Advice from a Caterpillar” from Alice in Wonderland by Unsuk Chin, a former student of Ligeti in the 1980s, charmed with its light-hearted attitude. Dressed in a striped turquoise shirt with a cap from a well-known namesake brand, Mark van de Wiel wonderfully portrayed a caterpillar, playing flowery bass clarinet solos. The clever stage design, props and lights were spectacular, allowing us to unwind before the turbulent finale.
At last, the stage was set for Pierre-Laurent Aimard’s performance of Piano Concerto. The Frenchman effortlessly articulated the complex rhythms of the first movement. He might have lacked a touch of brazenness, but he was never hindered by the orchestra. The second movement showcased Aimard’s lyrical playing, which eventually erupted into explosive chords amidst the shrieking noises of the woodwinds.
The third movement started with delicately phrased trills, and Aimard began to radiate with a more distinctive style, asserting himself against the impeccably synchronised orchestra. The assertiveness of the explosive piano chords became more pronounced in the fourth movement. The dynamic balance between the soloist and the orchestra seemed slightly skewed throughout, with the piano never rising above the ensemble. The final movement was a confident and virtuosic conclusion to both the piece and a concert that convincingly presented Ligeti’s groove and intricate textural writing.
