The Sinfonia of London, re-established by John Wilson, has already been hailed as one of the leading orchestras in the UK. This was its Aldeburgh Festival debut, entitled “Orchestral Showpieces”. Works by Dukas, Respighi and Rachmaninov fitted that description to differing degrees, but as Stravinsky observed it is not a good sign if the main attribute remarked of any piece is its instrumentation. So at times it proved here. Dukas’ The Sorcerer’s Apprentice fits that “showpiece” bill. It is not so often programmed now, perhaps because players will tell you is it is a lot easier to listen to than it is to play well. Played immaculately like this, it still makes an ideal curtain-raiser.
Sally Beamish’s 2007 Four Songs from Hafez are settings of the 14th-century Persian Sufi poet, each using a bird (and one fish) to describe longing for a human or divine beloved. They were inspired by the translations (and calligraphy) of Jila Peacock. This world premiere of Beamish’s orchestral version, commissioned by Britten Pears Arts, was sung by baritone Roderick Williams, Aldeburgh Festival's 2023 featured artist. These impressive songs, lyrical, understated, with their evocative birdsong effects, were beautifully sung. Hardly a “showpiece”, the orchestration, exquisitely played, coloured and enhanced the vocal line, sounding integral rather than suggesting a piano and voice original. Beamish has added a valuable orchestral song cycle to the repertory.
Respighi’s tone poem The Fountains of Rome evokes four fountains at different times of the day. From the opening dawn scene of the Valle Giulia, via the Triton and Trevi Fountains, the playing glowed and glittered, until the Villa Medici Fountain at Sunset provided yet more avian twittering. Each section of this orchestra had a contribution to make, and did so with impressive accomplishment.
The programme concluded with Rachmaninov’s terrific Symphonic Dances. This orchestra and conductor have made recent highly acclaimed Rachmaninov recordings, but here did not sound especially responsive to the shifting moods of this score. The first movement’s middle section alto saxophone solo foregrounds the composer’s nostalgia for his homeland – except that same mood dominated his early days in Russia, when he had no knowledge of his future exile. Perhaps the brisk and perfunctory playing here was making that point – no need to evoke a lost homeland, even though it was real enough for the composer in 1940.
The waltz rhythms of the second movement suffered similarly, and did not recall a forgotten ballroom haunted by ghostly dancers. The finale’s trademark reference is the Dies irae, and that idée fixe made its mark when needed. But for all the note-perfect presentation, the effect often was too loud, too fast and sensational in the wrong sense, resurrecting old doubts about the great composer’s calibre, which he hardly needs in his anniversary year. In fairness, this is a small hall with bare brick walls and a very lively acoustic indeed, and the orchestra was using it for the first time. But somehow a great score was diminished.
