When did you last hear the music of Louis Spohr (1784-1859) in an orchestral concert? According to Bachtrack’s database, the last time review of one of his violin concertos (no. 2) was back in February 2020 in London. Three years later at Tokyo’s Suntory Hall, Dutch-based Japanese violinist, Shunske Sato made a compelling case for Spohr’s Violin Concerto no. 8 in A minor, “in modo di scena cantante”, together with the Tokyo Symphony Orchestra. Sato, currently the Artistic Director of the Netherlands Bach Society, is a powerful advocate of historically informed performance practice not only in the music of Baroque and Classical eras, but increasingly in the 19th century, and he has recently been exploring the performance practice of this period with Concerto Köln.
The programme, which consisted of early 19th-century works by Spohr, Beethoven and the young Mendelssohn, was all directed by Sato: the first half from the violin, and the second half from the podium without his instrument. In keeping with Sato’s historical approach, the string players used vibrato sparingly throughout, and the horns, trumpets and timpani were period instruments.
The concert opened with the Spohr concerto without preamble. After a short orchestral introduction (in which Sato also joined in, as was customary in Spohr’s time), the solo violin burst into a recitative-like song, reminding one of a scene in a bel canto opera – the concerto was premiered at Milan’s La Scala in 1816. Sato’s playing was remarkably flexible and fluid not only in the recitative-style sections but throughout the one-movement work. His phrasing always had a strong sense of direction, and he created a pleasant ebb and flow within the phrase too, rather than sticking rigidly to the beat. Moreover, he brought the whole orchestra on board in this approach. It’s true that Spohr’s orchestral writing, especially in the accompanying sections, is not particularly imaginative, but when the players are in total harmony with the soloist and breathing together, the music becomes wonderfully alive and of the moment.
Another prominent feature of Sato’s solo playing was the use of portamento, a practice that was “freely employed as an expressive device in the 19th century”, according to the musicologist Clive Brown. It was tastefully and charmingly applied, and especially apt in this opera-inspired piece, although audience members not used to this practice may have been a bit surprised. Meanwhile, his virtuosic display in the rapid technical passages was spectacular, yet never losing lyrical flow.
In Beethoven’s First Symphony, Sato led the orchestra from the violin, standing in the conductor’s position. There was a similar momentum and fluidity here, with every player taking a proactive approach and creating an energetic and spontaneous performance that brought out the youthful vigour as well as the work's lightness – after all, Beethoven had just turned 30 in 1800. Despite the overall brisk tempi, the conductor-less approach worked surprisingly well and the ensemble was pretty tight except for a couple moments in the third movement where the strings and winds strayed out of sync.
The second half featured Felix Mendelssohn’s String Symphony no. 8 in D major in his own arrangement for full orchestra. Although modelled on a classical symphony, one can only marvel at the assuredness of Mendelssohn’s orchestral writing at the age of 13; for example the unique timbre of three-part violas and bass in the second movement, charming woodwind writing in the Menuetto and Trio, and the solemn fugato in the finale. As conductor too, Sato focused on inspiring the players to feel and express the music in long phrases rather than in bars and beats. The rapport and warmth was evident, bringing the programme to a lively close.
