Anna Rakitina conducts a disturbing, glorious Shostakovich Fifth Symphony

On Bedřich Smetana's 200th anniversary, what could be a better start to a concert than Vltava? One might wish that some of his less-frequently played works got an airing from time to time, but the BBC Philharmonic’s performance, conducted by Anna Rakitina, reminded us why this tone poem is a perennial favourite. The orchestra led us from the gentle streams that join to form the Czech Republic’s largest river to the grandeur of Prague and ultimately its disappearance into the Elbe, taking in various scenes along the way. The episode evoking turbulent rapids was particularly vivid; we really felt that this was a dangerous stretch of water! 

The second piece on the programme marked a much less prominent anniversary. March 1924 saw the birth of American composer Julia Perry, whose works are little performed. In 1951, she wrote a setting of the Stabat Mater, a 13th-century devotional poem in Latin which has attracted many composers, Rossini and Dvořák being perhaps the best known. It tells of Mary’s grief at the foot the cross and then becomes a prayer to her from a devoted believer. The Stabat Mater marked a transition in Perry’s style from one rooted in the past to a more experimental one, under the influence of her teacher Luigi Dallapiccola, noted for his serial music. Her Stabat Mater is for solo contralto and string orchestra. This evening we were fortunate to have the rare opportunity to hear a true contralto: Jess Dandy’s beautiful, rich voice was captivating. She conveyed the intensity of the prayer to Virgin with deep feeling. Just occasionally in the louder passages the strings overpowered her but mostly the accompaniment was restrained, pointing and amplifying some of the sung text which allowed the soloist to communicate directly to the audience.

The second half of the concert consisted of Shostakovich’s Symphony no 5 in D minor. Rakitina and the BBC Philharmonic delivered a powerful, stirring performance. Shostakovich had withdrawn his Fourth Symphony following attacks on his opera Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk in Pravda by – or instigated by – Stalin. Famously, Shostakovich new symphony was described as “an artist’s response to just criticism” and ever since commentators and audiences have been arguing about what that means. Is it really a return to something that would be more palatable to the cultural arbiters of 1937 and more easily appreciated by “the people”? Or is it full of irony? Or defiance? There is no doubt that it can be disturbing and powerful, but also ravishingly beautiful.

Rakitina ratcheted up the tension from the intense string contributions at the very beginning and, throughout the symphony, emphasised the astonishing contrasts in Shostakovich's music which constantly challenges our expectations. The humour of the second movement was particularly savage; the reflective Largo was the melancholy heart of the piece, only to be supplanted by a fiery finale. The BBC Philharmonic were on top form, the crucial solos all taken superbly. The ending of the symphony was as challenging as ever. Did it represent a positive resolution of conflict or an expression of a forced rejoicing? This involving performance made us consider all the possibilities.