OVERALL NOISE RATING: 2 (not enough audience to make much noise)

The Noise Rating Index is a partially-objective measurement of pager and handphone blasts, 9pm and 10pm watch beeps, coughing-during-the-pianissimo-bits, intra-audience conversation and other mind-bogglingly inept noises emitted in the concert hall during actual performance of music. It is measured on a scale of 0 to 5, in increasing annoyance.

"Another visiting foreign orchestra from Europe again", I thought.

Walking towards the Esplanade Concert Hall, I was reminded of last year's act by the Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra, which in the words of Straits Times journalist Tan Shzr Ee, "hauled in its tradition-weighted glory for a predictable account of Beethoven and Strauss." (The Straits Times, 'Life!' p. 6, 18 June 2003) Europe being the birthplace of the Western Canon, notions of tradition invariably resurface. However, tradition is more than a thoughtless recapitulation of established practices; it is an evolutionary process that actively involves the hearts and minds of the performer and the audience, as aptly proven by the Budapest Festival Orchestra.

Founded 21 years ago, the Budapest Festival Orchestra under the direction of Iván Fischer has proven itself to be a masterful interpreter of repertoire that includes insightful interpretations of classics composed during the height of the historical Habsburg Empire, as well as compositions of the 19 th century European Nationalist tradition and other contemporary works. Soloist Christian Tetzlaff is also described as being "equally at home with the classical/romantic repertoire as with contemporary music." Given such high expectations, I was taken aback by the turnout.

About half of the stall and circle seats remained empty. Attendance further dwindled during the second half of the programme, which usually happens during many concerts in Singapore whenever the soloist performs before the intermission. Although it was a poor show of etiquette on the part of a minority of the audience, for those who did stayed till the end, the rapturous standing ovation showed that the audience was for the most part appreciative and enthusiastic.

The passionate delivery of the orchestra was apparent in the Hungarian Peasant Songs , the insistent rhythms juxtaposed carefully against the swirling folk melodies. While the work itself was far from being a warhorse for virtuosic display, it was evident that the orchestra had a distinctive sound of its own. Under Fischer's direction, I was greeted with a kaleidoscope of tonal colours that showed much sculptured refinement, providing a very enclosed sound reminiscent of a chamber orchestra rather than a full symphony orchestra. It was obvious that every individual orchestra member had a strong foundation in chamber music playing, no doubt also complimented by the orchestra's seating arrangement: Cellists in the middle, double bassists right at the back with the percussion section, first and second violinists to the left, violists to the right, horn players, trumpeters seated behind the violins, trombonists and tuba player next to the double bassists, the woodwind section behind the cellists, and last but not least, one harpist to the left, and another harpist to the right. I felt that such a seating arrangement ensured a more collected sound without any one section overpowering the other. Although one would like to think of the symphony orchestra as a standardized and established musical ensemble, there is still very much more room for experimentation. No doubt, the present seating arrangement of the Budapest Festival Orchestra must have been established after much experimentation, taking into account the acoustics of the concert hall and the individual sections of the orchestra. Obviously, careful consideration was given to the needs of the audience and the performers themselves, a gesture which I very much appreciated.

After showcasing the rich ethnic musical traditions of Hungary, the next item on the programme featured Beethoven's Violin Concerto in D major, Op. 61 , a work which is nonetheless still pretty much part of the Hungarian musical heritage, since the nation had been part of the Habsburg Empire which then included much of present day Hungary, Austria and the Balkans.

With the timpani player seated right next to the podium, the typical problem of having a time lapse between the tremolo figuration of the first violins and the timpani during the opening of the first movement was solved, another testimony to the musical vision of Fischer. The experience of watching soloist Christian Tetzlaff perform felt more like standing behind the shoulders of a craftsman at work, rather than a vaudevillian display of bravura extravagance. Soloist and orchestra strode hand in hand amidst the Beethovenesque pastoral landscape, always complimenting one another, engaging in a playful musical dialogue that were at times punctuated by a joyful, childlike innocence, bringing the spirit of Beethoven alive. Tetzlaff's performance of the cadenza adapted from Beethoven's own piano arrangement of the work itself showed a fidelity to the musical language of the composer, giving this classic from the standard violin repertory a feel that is both contemporary and traditional. The second movement felt more like a journey into a reverie that showed Tetzlaff's sensitivity and lyricism at its best. However, with the third movement, Tetzlaff was able to let go of some of the restrain in the earlier two movements, drawing his performance to a passionate conclusion.

It is a pity that attendance for this performance was so poor. But listening to the sound of the applause, I could close my eyes and easily fool myself into believing that I was attending a concert playing to full house. Tetzlaff obliged us by giving a heartfelt rendition of the Grave from J.S. Bach's Sonata No. 2 for Solo Violin in A minor, BWV 1003 . His playing would be forever etched in my memory.

The second half of the programme offered more virtuosic display for the orchestra. The three works by Maurice Ravel, La Valse , Pavane pour une infante défante and Boléro , were all performed without any breaks in between, but nonetheless still felt like a coherent whole. The haunting beauty of La Valse conjured up feelings of pessimism, a steady destruction of a beautiful dream. The Pavane brought forth some semblance of hope and optimism. Kudos to horn principal Zempléni Szabolcs, the horn solo at the opening was really impressive. However, what left behind the most impression for me was the Boléro. If performed by orchestras of poorer standing, this work would have been little more than a clichéd exercise. But under the direction of Fischer, the Budapest Festival Orchestra was able to conjure up a curious sense of mystery and drama that gives this work its unique character.

When the last notes of Boléro finally faded away, the whole concert hall was flooded by a festive mood. After repeated curtain calls, the evening concluded with two encore pieces, the Slavonic Dance No. 2 in E minor by Antonin Dvorák and the Hungarian Dance No. 1 in G minor by Johannes Brahms.

It was in all a wonderful evening that deserved much more publicity. I would love to see the Budapest Festival Orchestra return to Singapore in the years to come.

Brandon Voo loves cello, cello, cello.

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