Another instalment in Paavo Järvi’s Nielsen series formed the bulk of Thursday’s Philharmonia Orchestra concert, with a Haydn symphony thrown in almost as an afterthought. It was clear, however, that Järvi was just as much an enthusiast for Haydn as he was for Nielsen.
From the beginning of the Symphony no. 83 in G minor, “La Poule”, it was apparent that Järvi had ideas of his own. An exaggerated diminuendo at the end of the first phrase was as striking as it was individual, and whilst Haydn gives no such direction it was an arresting opening and an indication of things to come. Along with these conspicuously emphasised dynamics, events hurtled by under Järvi’s well-judged tempi, without any loss of precision from polished string playing. There were further idiosyncrasies from Järvi in the Andante where diminuendos from violins virtually went off the sonar. The brisk tempo, not quite so appropriate here, caused a few intonation problems which now verged on the approximate. A single flute (Samuel Coles) chirruped away persuasively in the Minuet’s Trio where a quintet of solo strings, brought another instance of Järvi’s tinkering, and elegant support. The Finale was polished, its fleet-of-foot playing perfectly suited to Haydn’s delicate score.
Nielsen’s Concerto for Clarinet and Orchestra from 1928 is infrequently performed but made an illuminating partner for Haydn, not least in its classical-style phrasing and orchestration: strings, pairs of bassoons and horns, and the spicy addition of a snare drum. If the work itself failed to convince me of its merits – with its intriguing mix of acerbic and lyrical, poetic and puzzling – then the soloist, Mark van de Wiel, was compelling. Playing from memory, and with a clear affinity for the work, he took the concerto to his heart in a commanding performance. Control, beauty of tone and shapely phrasing (with notes beguilingly hanging in the air) were all present in this elusive work once described by Nielsen’s son-in-law as “from another planet”. Its determined snare drum interruptions were given with admiral self-control by Matt Prendergast but, at 24 minutes, the work seems overlong.