Royal Northern Sinfonia and its Music Director Lars Vogt opened the new season at Sage Gateshead with a journey beyond the standard chamber orchestra repertoire into the vast symphonic landscapes of Russia. Its programme was framed by whispers, starting with the magical, shimmering silence of the grasslands in Borodin’s In the Steppes of Central Asia and ending with deathly oblivion as Tchaikovsky’s Symphony no. 6 in B minor collapses into darkness, but the orchestra was limited by its size, particularly of the string sections, so what came in between the whispers didn’t always rise to the heights that the music demands. This felt like a programme that was chosen to fill the hall rather than show the orchestra at its best.
Clarinettist Nick Carpenter set up an atmospheric beginning to In the Steppes of Central Asia; his languid solo was quiet but beautifully projected, giving a sense of the spacious panorama that unfolds in Borodin’s music, and he was well supported by the violins with their mesmeric sustained high note. Vogt gave the full string melody that comes later a very angular shape, which kept the music rooted to the earth, where I usually expect a bird’s eye view of the rolling steppes.
Of the three works on the programme, Shostakovich’s Second Piano Concerto was the best suited to Royal Northern Sinfonia’s forces, and there was plenty to enjoy in their performance. Led by the bassoons, the wind section sparkled through the first movement, with Vogt crisp and jazzy at the piano: this was real first night of the season celebratory stuff, with everyone having fun, particularly piccolo player Robert Looman. Vogt frequently directs concertos from the piano, and whilst this is fine for early romantic repertoire where piano and orchestra often take turns, it was not entirely successful here where piano and orchestra are closely meshed together in complex rhythms, and the piano plays almost continuously. Vogt’s head nods were not always sufficient to hold things together, so piano and orchestra frequently got out of synch with each other in the outer movements. The luscious slow movement offered serenity, but I couldn’t help feeling that something was being held back.