Christchurch Symphony Orchestra - Review

Conductor: Benjamin Northey
Anna Leese – Soprano

​Lili Boulanger – D'un soir triste (Of a Sad Evening)
Barber – Knoxville: Summer of 1915
Mahler – Symphony No. 4 in G Major

Performances to admire rather than to rejoice in
‘Restraint’ was the overall approach to this programme and despite the care over detail and the refined attention to balance, dynamics, phrasing and timbre, I longed for more abandon, more expressive freedom and . . .  well – more risk. But with RNZ microphones very much in evidence, I suppose risk was off the table.

Although the programme notes talk about Lili Boulanger’s originality and depth of expressive feeling, tonight’s performance of her D'un soir triste conveyed more self-contained tastefulness than anything more deeply emotional. The composer uses an exceptionally large orchestra, and the use of low brass and wind sometimes communicated an element of introspective brooding, if not quite with the individuality and personality that can be found in her contemporaries such as Debussy or Fauré.

D'un soir triste is certainly an appealing work; its harmonic exoticism (including hints of orientalism) and variety of orchestral colour made it an enticing and innovative opening to tonight’s concert.

Samuel Barber’s wonderfully nostalgic Knoxville: Summer of 1915 of 1948, using a text by American poet James Agee, is among the greatest of American masterpieces and, in my view, among the finest works of the twentieth century. There’s something quintessentially and indefinably American about its evocative opening on wind instruments and its lilting, rocking-chair, rhythm. But the airy freedom of expression this music needs seemed too contained and careful. There was a notable lack of contrasting drama in the orchestral transition to the ‘Streetcar’ section, which was then reflected in soprano, Anna Leese’s restrained projection.

What is it about solo voices in this acoustic? Well, at least some voices. Anna Leese’s projection tended to be swallowed by the vastness of the space, resulting in a certain lack of focus, especially in her many expressive softer dynamics. A quiet flute or cor anglais solo seemed able to cut through the texture in a way the voice could not.

One of my favourite passages in this glorious work is the return to sentiments of nostalgia when the singer describes lying on quilts “on the rough wet grass”, but contrasts between the more dramatic moments and the homesick wistfulness of other sections tended to be smoothed out rather than highlighted.

The singer’s involvement in the musical expression and responsive engagement with the text were always in evidence, but I missed the open-hearted childlike rapture that the composer surely intended at lines such as “One is my mother who is good to me”; and then, the following dramatic climax at “By some chance, here they are, all on this earth” went for too little.

The final movement of Gustav Mahler’s Symphony No. 4 requires the same childlike wonder from the singer. And here Anna Leese’s expressive projection bloomed. Her flowing legato and full-bodied vocal tone remained intact even in the most intimate episodes. And the rapture that I missed in the Barber was fully and ecstatically evident when “Saint Ursula laughs” [to see eleven thousand maidens dancing] near the end of the movement.

In that final movement, at last conductor Benjamin Northey allowed the orchestra a slightly longer leash, although his focus was otherwise on subtlety and refinement and, to both his and the orchestra’s credit, those qualities were present in abundance. In fact, the detail was astonishing with every minute gradation of dynamics and balance fully realised. String portamenti and articulation were judged to an impressive nicety, while the huge variety of range and timbre that Mahler asks of the horns in the unusual (for Mahler) absence of trombones and tuba, was simply phenomenal. Fearlessly led by Emma Eden, the whole horn section added tremendous colour and drama to the performance. Wind and percussion also played with considerable finesse with Ashleigh Mowbray’s cor anglais solos standing out with genuine personality.

But, while this was a performance of superb technical accomplishment, it was a one to admire rather than to rejoice in. The deliberately paced opening movement failed to sparkle and, while ‘Deliberate’ is the composer’s own instruction, I feel that he means it in its purposeful sense rather than its ponderous connotation.

In the same way, the second movement seemed to resist wanting to dance, so that even Justine Cormack’s finely played scordatura violin solo failed to fully express the country-dance effect that Mahler wanted. And, if the great adagio movement that followed exhibited similar care and control, its final overwhelming climax brought an emotional charge that justified the restraint that preceded it.

So, if these performances didn’t always excite and elevate in the way they ideally should, there was much to admire, and Benjamin Northey certainly achieved some finely-honed playing from his orchestra.

See also abridged version in The Press 

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