Santtu, Dupree and the Philharmonia have fun with Kapustin and the Russians

The Philharmonia Orchestra’s concert was titled “Santtu and Frank Dupree in a Jazz Concerto”. No mention of the composer that conductor Santtu-Matias Rouvali and pianist Dupree would perform together, nor is that work called a jazz concerto, but Piano Concerto no. 5, Op.72 (1993). True, Ukrainian composer Nikolai Kapustin discovered jazz while still a student in Moscow, and his score, though fully written out for a standard orchestra, has some jazz harmony and an occasional improvisatory feeling, and according to the programme note will “groove and boogie-woogie… its way into your ears and heart”. 

Well hardly, and the reason is clear. Bringing jazz into classical compositions was passé by 1993, since from the 1930s Ravel, Stravinsky, Walton and American composers integrated it into works which still sound characteristic of them. But on this first encounter with Kapustin, it seemed that the Russian orchestral manner was invaded from time to time by sounds from Hollywood, even Gershwin (if hardly on his level of invention), without quite forming an integrated style. But it was attractive enough, and – justifying that concert title – superbly performed.

Encore preparation began soon after, with percussionists and a bass player leaving the platform to collect bongos and other instruments, while Dupree inexplicably leant into the piano to pluck some strings. They grouped around the keyboard to which Dupree returned (save for a brief switch to the bongos himself). Santtu, a former percussionist, joined in the ensuing lively jazz standard Dupree-style with crazy fun and flair. The concerto had been received warmly, though hardly enough to justify such a celebratory encore. But Dupree’s skilled advocacy of an obscure piece justified one, and it was greeted with a mighty roar, eclipsing the reception of Kapustin’s work.

Glinka’s Capriccio brillante on the Jota Aragonese (the Spanish Overture no. 1) opened the concert, and proved as valid in that role as his more usual overture to Ruslan and Lyudmila. Its slow introduction was imposing, and the dancing rhythms of the jota were captured well by woodwinds, harp and castanets, while the violins enjoyed themselves expertly imitating guitar sounds. The closing work, Rimsky-Korsakov’s Capriccio espagnol, made the ideal bookend, not least for the castanets and tambourine players. Leader Zsolt-Tihamér Visontay’s substantial violin solo set the seal on his many fine contributions to the evening. The final fandango was a riot of Iberian colour.

The substance of the programme came from Alexander Borodin’s Symphony no. 2 in B minor, as revised with some assistance from Rimsky-Korsakov. Less frequently heard than formerly, its four movements and half-hour length constitute a fine concert piece, its dramatic elements depicting Russian knights from ancient Kievan Rus. The heart is the Andante, opening with harp arpeggios leading to a fine lyrical horn solo from Principal Ben Hulme. When its theme returned later, Rouvali phrased it with great finesse, drawing intense playing from the Philharmonia’s superb violin section.