Saturday 22 March 2025
Bridgewater Hall, Manchester
****
A stunning performance of Beethoven’s final piano concerto by Paul Lewis, bookended by two Nordic symphonies
Last Saturday’s concert by the BBC Philharmonic Orchestra was going to feature music by three Nordic composers: the Norwegian composer Edvard Grieg, the Danish composer Per Nørgård and the Finnish composer Jean Sibelius, all conducted by the Finnish conductor John Storgårds. In the event, Grieg’s Piano Concerto in A Minor was replaced by Beethoven’s Piano Concerto No. 5 in E-flat major, Op. 73, also known as the ‘Emperor’.
The concert began with Symphony No. 8 by the Danish composer Per Nørgård. It was commissioned by the Helsinki Philharmonic Orchestra and is dedicated to the Orchestra and to conductor John Storgårds. Another post on this Blog, a review of the Bass Communion album, Ghosts on Magnetic Tape, addresses what constitutes music. The symphony presented a similar challenge, which could defeat listeners hearing it for the first time, offering music that appears tonal but often slips away from the listener’s grasp. In his very helpful programme note, Stephen Johnson addressed this issue,
‘The profusion of sounds, all vying for attention, may seem bewildering. So too might the music’s tendency to invoke traditional tonal harmonies, then immediately throw them out of focus.’
Johnson also drew an astute connection with the symphonic works of Sibelius, which the composer described as flowing ‘like a river.’ Nørgård’s symphony has a constant flow of glittering themes, repeatedly fractured but driven by an inner momentum. Armed with this knowledge, rather than searching for conventional development of symphonic themes, the listener can make sense of the piece and enjoy a fascinating journey.
It helped that the BBC Philharmonic’s performance, conducted by the symphony’s dedicatee, John Storgårds, with ferocious concentration, was crystalline and magical, an invigorating investigation into orchestral timbre. The first movement began mysteriously, like a wood at night. Rasping brass led to Bernard Herrmann-like strings that shimmered with an evil glint. An endless piano tune was passed around the orchestra, including percussion. Storgårds stepped back in a ‘senza misura’ section, a free section without a regular beat, which felt like the chiming of demented clocks. A solo violin reverberated like a siren, and the music unravelled itself, bringing the movement to an uneasy end.
Genuine poetry can communicate before it is understood.
T.S. Eliot
The second movement felt as if it had been written in a fever dream, like film music where the page had been smudged. Nervous strings and strident brass headed towards an apotheosis but collapsed and fell away. There was a mass of sound, a dense adagio with filigree decoration. A slow theme was picked out by the strings but undermined by restless percussion, before a brief and uncertain resolution. The final movement began with the arid sound of the rim of a side drum being struck, and sarcastic military brass. The playing throughout was virtuosic, as rising themes that never resolved appeared from a turbulent miasma of sound. Yet, there were occasional moments of glittering joy and clarity. The strangely rhapsodic ending brought a moment of stasis with an unsettling cello solo. The performance brought to mind T.S. Eliot’s phrase, ‘genuine poetry can communicate before it is understood’ – Nørgård’s symphony had the same effect.
Beethoven’s Piano Concerto No. 5 brought no such epistemological agonies; it’s well enough known that the interest for the listener lies in the performance rather than trying to unravel the mysteries of the music itself. In his programme note, Barry Cooper referred to the concerto’s nickname, the ‘Emperor’, which describes the ‘grand, majestic character’ of the piece. The piano soloist, Paul Lewis, opened the first movement, following the initial orchestral chords, playing with mesmerising poise and grace, at a faster pace than some interpretations. While Lewis waited patiently, the orchestra played resolutely, fiercely rhythmic, then dancing elegantly. He picked up the theme with a shimmering upward piano run, decorating the theme, then providing a romantic variation. A more robust passage gave way to a stunning syncopated section with gentle rubato. The precision of Lewis’ left hand was revealed in a descending theme, with a bell-like, ringing touch in the right hand. An exuberant symphonic section was decorated by sparkling piano – a moment of lucid joy. The movement concluded with a virtuosic cadenza from Lewis, his hands chasing each other across the keyboard, producing a twinkling sound reminiscent of a glass harmonica.
The second and third movements merged to form a section that was as long as the entire first movement. Some audience members jumped as the piano suddenly transitioned from one movement to the next without warning. Again, the highlight was Lewis’ playing, ably supported by the orchestra, who began the second movement in contemplative mood, with deeply resonating basses and stunning ensemble. Lewis matched their tender playing with rapt contemplation, picking out each note with beautiful evenness. There was a heart-stopping extended section in which Lewis was accompanied by the woodwind. There were times when his playing exhibited a Mozartian lightness, as well as a Beethovenian robustness. Lewis made this colossus of a piece light and delicate, shot through with subtle joy. He was justly celebrated at the end with rapturous applause and ecstatic shouts.
The second half of the concert featured the second Nordic symphony of the evening, Sibelius’s third. An oft-quoted conversation between Sibelius and another great symphonist, Gustav Mahler, ended with the latter saying that the symphony should be like the world, ‘It must embrace everything.’ As Katy Hamilton pointed out in her programme note, it’s less often remembered that Mahler’s comment was in reply to Sibelius’ comment, made just after he completed his Third Symphony, that a symphony should be marked by its ‘severity of style and the profound logic that created an inner connection between all the motifs.’
Despite Sibelius’ avowed debt to the formal traditions of previous symphonists such as Mozart, Haydn and Mozart, the symphony demonstrates, according to Robert Philip, that,
Sibelius’s harmonic language is becoming more wayward, and his characteristic fragmentation of ideas makes large swathes of the symphony elusive until you get to know it – and even then, you have to accept that elusiveness is part of the point.
The symphony began with a robust bass tune, followed by a folky melody in the woodwinds, accompanied by swirling strings; we were immediately immersed in Sibelius’ distinctive sound world, rather than the sound of the earlier symphonists, although as Robert Philip points out the use of folk music is a feature of Mahler’s symphonies. Storgårds beautifully controlled the spiralling momentum of the opening. A moment of chromatic unease, marked by scurrying flutes, gave way to a surprising break in momentum. The orchestra played with a warm, generous sound as Storgårds urged them on to a climax. The folk tune returned, then the music dissolved into ambiguity. There was rich brass and perfect ensemble in the strings. The movement ended with its final noble statements and a pleasing plagal (‘amen’) cadence.
The second movement began with an open fifth on the horns, then a stately, lilting dance on woodwind, beautifully played with lovely poise. One of the themes was an intriguing pre-echo of the vocal section in the second movement of Jon Lord’s Concerto for Group and Orchestra (1969). A majestically sorrowful melody from the cellos was followed by playful pizzicato, passing through different keys and gradually broadening out into the earlier theme. The third movement passed from a scherzo-like opening to a grand finale. Again, there were pre-echoes of later Sibelius, and a hymn-like tune emerged that was strongly reminiscent of the melody from Finlandia (1899), which later became the Finlandia Hymn, an important anthem in Storgårds’ native country. At the end of the piece, there was lengthy applause, and Storgårds went into the orchestra to thank individual sections, including the double basses, who were slightly out of reach. Returning to the front of the stage, he bowed to thank the audience, his hand on his heart, as if to acknowledge the emotional impact that the symphony had on him.
Repertoire
Per Nørgård Symphony No. 8
Ludwig van Beethoven Piano Concerto No.5, ‘Emperor’
Jean Sibelius Symphony No 3 in C major
Performers
BBC Philharmonic Orchestra
John Storgårds conductor
Paul Lewis piano
Sources
BBC Philharmonic Orchestra Programme Notes
T.S. Eliot, Dante (Faber, 1929)
Robert Philip, The Classical Music Lover’s Companion to Orchestral Music (Yale University Press, Kindle Edition)
The concert will be broadcast on BBC Radio 3 on Tuesday 1 April at 19.30 and will be available on BBC Sounds for 30 days after that.