As December arrives in Montréal, so begins the descent into the long, dark nights of winter. If any culture understands this season as Canadians do, it is the people of Scandinavia, whose classical music tradition is known for its depiction of the vast and barren landscapes of their native land. That said, this music also contains the hope and warmth of a people resilient in the face of howling winds and whirling walls of snow; dark, desolate passages rise to glorious heights. The Orchestre Métropolitain’s concert, “Scandinavian Escape”, brought to mind the warmth and familiarity of home. The orchestra holds a special place in Montréal, with many of its musicians born and trained in the province and a mission to make the joy of classical music accessible to everyone in Quebec. On this Sunday concert, we shared in an afternoon of rich harmonies, soaring melodies and traditions of a strong, defiant people.
The wave of nationalism that swept through Europe in the 19th century brought the rise of early Scandinavian composers, many of whom drew from the folk music of their people as inspiration. Edvard Grieg of Norway, the father of Scandinavian music, was an early pioneer who paved the way for many other composers to follow. His Holberg Suite, the first work on the program, is comprised of Baroque dances, a contrast from much of Grieg’s characteristically romantic output. Grieg added a lyrical touch to Baroque writing in this suite; there is a delicate Prelude, a refined Sarabande and an idiomatic Gavotte et Musette. The Air, marked andante religioso, contrasts the preceding dances with its minor key and particularly expressive melodies while the energetic Rigaudon is like a fiddle tune – fast, fun and virtuosic. The string orchestra executed the first four movements with romantic restraint, articulating each line with care. The final dance provided a glimpse of a less formal music, a music of the people.
Following this work was the famous Grøndahl Concerto for Trombone and Orchestra in F minor, a favourite among trombonists. This is a work of many contrasts, demanding both soft, legato lines and great agility. Soloist Patrice Richer met both conditions; after giving a thumbs up to the first violin, he set off to a dramatic opening of the first movement with great energy. From defiant statements over trembling strings to floating, fantasy-like melodies, Richer projected each line with expressivity. The second movement, marked Quasi una leggenda (In the manner of a tall tale), demanded sensitive playing from both soloist and the orchestra; the descending bass line and initial jazzy feel gave way to delicate piano clusters descending like gently falling snowflakes. Over this, Richer’s playing was soft and graceful, as if it were the floating voice of a tenor. The third and final movement featured the virtuosic passage work of the piece. Riding the energy of the orchestra’s rhythmic staccatos, Richer’s rapid playing was precise and impressive, almost effortless. Richer received an enthusiastic standing ovation from the audience and his young son, who came on stage to present his father with flowers.