Conducting a symphony written for you as a birthday gift must be a particularly special experience, and the temptation to indulge must have been very high for Donald Runnicles, in Monday night’s première of James MacMillan’s Symphony no. 4. That he didn’t is a testament to him, and the BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra, who followed his considered, nuanced direction to create a wonderful performance.
Billed as “ancient and modern”, MacMillan’s fourth exploration of the symphonic form is more abstract, blending a number of themes in a single movement progressing from slow to fast. The ancient is inspired by Robert Carver, while the modern has the hallmarks of MacMillan, blending the ethereal with Scottish influence.
From the very opening, Runnicles and the orchestra demanded full attention, creating a hushed, otherworldly feel, deftly navigating the themes (a particular nod to Lynda Cochrane, making the most of a jagged piano part) before moving into an impassioned wash of strings with more than a touch of Gorecki and Pärt about it. The “ancient” themes were a delight when they appeared, with Runnicles and the orchestra taking great care to balance the light non-vibrato strings emerging from the back desks of the violas with the modern, highlighting the interweaving of multiple themes. Whether following the various themes around the orchestra, or allowing the overall sound to wash over, there was something to savour either way.
As the music drove forwards there were some lovely pared back moments, evoking bird calls, church bells, and of course some very snappy Scotch snaps! The themes continued to bounce off each other, grown in size and stature by the orchestra until the cellos emerged with a melody given richness and warmth, leading back to that minimalist-inspired territory.
A kettledrum tolling sounded a touch macabre for a birthday gift, threatening the start of a more funereal than celebratory ending of the piece. However, the orchestra never allowed it to become maudlin, maintaining a determined focus which allowed Runnicles to drive the music on to a triumphant climax, with the percussion enjoying a moment of ecstasy, before dying away gently.
Perhaps pairing a brand new work with something so entirely familiar in head and heart is unfair; the former has no previous interpretations to compare against, it carries no baggage with it to the audience. Alternatively, the orchestra’s familiarity with the former may risk complacency, a feeling that the “hard part” is over. It certainly felt like both these factors came into play in this performance of Mahler’s great Symphony no. 5 in C sharp minor.