INKPOT#86 CLASSICAL MUSIC REVIEWS: Singapore Symphony Orchestra

Friday & Saturday 5-6th November, 1999 Victoria Concert Hall	Subscription Series Last Thoughts...
	Sergei RACHMANINOV Piano Concerto No.2 in C minor, op.18 Jean SIBELIUS Selections from The Tempest Suites Jean SIBELIUS Symphony No.7 in C, op.105 Roger MURARO piano Okko KAMU conductor

OVERALL NOISE RATING: 2/5 (coughing during the symphony on Friday; bloody pager reminder beeps on Saturday.)

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.

This review has been kindly sponsored by the Singapore Symphonia Co. Ltd

by the Inkpot Sibelius Nutcase

Some thoughts on the Rachmaninov first :). I attended both nights of the concert (of course), which demonstrated some interesting differences. Roger Muraro, whose name looks Japanese, proved quite to be the Frenchman that he is - the style of musicianship is "loose", overflowing with confidence and forwardness, not caring so much for note accuracy (which le Française might "attribute" to le Anglais) but more for expressive display backed by that haughty French aristocratic style. What this produced was not just the multitude of wrong notes, very often at the most exposed and moderately paced parts (even some of the slow phrases), but more importantly a very open-hearted, sincere (in the dark way Rachmaninov looks at you in his photos) way towards the music.

(The haughty French aristocratic style also caused Mr Muraro to, while watching the orchestra playing, turn slowly and almost menacingly at a certain section of the audience when a pager beeped its reminder. Bravo.)

Muraro played with all this, and his dedication to the music was undeniable as he thundered away following each and every phrase with corresponding body language, mouthing the music as he played, even buzzing it out audibly. Very often, Muraro will turn to look proudly upon the orchestral accompaniment like a mounted generale watching his army. His lyric touch was beautiful, producing the Rachmaninovian sentimentalism admirably, particularly on the second night.

Elsewhere, the fiery pianist would throw everything he had into the trashing cascades of notes, which proved to be quiet exciting to watch. On the first night, the momentum generated for the first movement was not recreated the day after; though conversely, on the second night, the finale greatly impressed with its volcanic beauty, powerful and impassioned. These were thoroughly Romantic performances, admirable (rather than fallible) for Muraro's willingness to sacrifice technical accuracy for musical, emotional and lyrical response. It was evident from his rock solid confidence that this was exactly what he cared for. Even the SSO seemed to show their approval, as did the audience.

Okko Kamu For years now, I have dreamt - wished - that the SSO would perform Sibelius' Seventh Symphony 'live'. It is my favourite symphony, bar none, for its supreme human intelligence and its awesome beauty. At the same time, I was not confident that our home team was ready to perform this work. I felt that with its rather metallic tone and inconsistent ensemble, the SSO was not likely to achieve the transparency and integration so crucial to this 20-minute piece.

But then, luck was on our side - we got Okko Kamu (right), a fellow Finn no less and the SSO's most consistently best conductor. For the three months since getting my first copy of the SSO season booklet, I kept my fingers crossed. The last thing I wanted was to experience my first 'live' Seventh as a bad one.

On Friday night, the SSO became something completely different from the pervious nights of heavyweight Russian repertoire. The orchestra seemed to approach the symphony with a kind of gentle religiosity - there was something extremely graceful, light and perhaps even meek. A Finnish conductor once said that to them (Finnish conductors), Sibelius' Fourth Symphony is a sacred work; sacred in the sense that when one played it, one did it with great respect. It is not something to be fooled about with. It was this sense of respect that I detected in the SSO here in the Seventh - inspired, no doubt, also by Kamu's direction. I wonder if he said anything about this symphony to the orchestra during rehearsal, about its unique place in the history of the symphony.

To my great admiration, the SSO produced an integrated sound from which no single instrument stuck out, not even the majestic trombone solo - this equilibrium is precisely what makes the Seventh difficult to pull off under 'live' conditions. In the studios you can play with balance and equalisation gadgets, but in the concert hall, the orchestra must listen to itself very very carefully. Considering how even the brass were toned down, I suspect Kamu must really have had the SSO's attention, and credit to the musicians' concentration as well.

Albeit, sometimes it might have been too much - the trombone solo(s) was rather underpowered, particularly in its second and third manifestations. On the other hand, this does not necessarily mean it doesn't work - for this "solo" is not a true "solo" meant for display, but merely one part of the symphony's total being, one strand from the symphonic whole. There is a point to be made in "equalising" every solo-like part such that the symphony asserts its orchestrational unity.

This is also generally speaking a stylistic typical of Finnish conductors, who have always had a more subtle way with Sibelius, naturally, than conductors of other nationalities. Kamu's brand of conducting Sibelius symphonies (judging by his performance of the Second in 1995 with the SSO, or in his recordings) has always been light, even lithe. He tends to avoid gushing or generating a great sense of weight (a la Karajan) - so it was here.

So far, watching a Sibelius symphony being played has always revealed very interesting things one cannot see when listening to a CD. In this case, I was amazed at how visually remarkably simple the work seems like. No one seems to struggle at all. Even for the conductor - Kamu did not seem to conduct the work (how do you conduct a living force so natural, so powerfully self-propelling?), but instead seemed more to urge the orchestra along using grand, graceful strokes, rousing the music to flow.

However, I do feel that the basses did not realise how crucial their parts were. It is common for audience and musician alike to underplay the importance of the role of basses in an orchestra - but this is something that can't be afforded in Sibelius' Seventh. It was evident that on both nights, the basses were not playing out enough, hence literally undermining the performance by underplaying the absolutely vital bass pedals of the symphony. For Sibelius (left), vertical orchestral transparency is of utmost importance - every part from top to bottom, from sky to earth, must exert its role clearly in the symphonic ecological system.

What the SSO excelled in, especially on Saturday, was horizontal transparency. The "meekness" had turned more confident. This time, the SSO was considerably more forward in tone, the lines uttered with greater momentum (but not necessarily speed). The vivacissimo section showcased excellent integration in the orchestra as it articulated the woodwind and string interchanges with startling clarity, like the sparkle of rippling water. The "peaks" of this alpine symphony were thrust with greater strength, a greater sense of magnificence. To put it another way, there was more sign of internal contrast, as the lines weaved with, around and against each other in celebration of symphonic thought.

(Incidently, I am loathe to talk about individual "sections" in the Seventh, which is insulting to its entire concept. I was especially chagrined to find that the programme notes talked about how the symphony "is so integrated in its construction that a simple analysis is almost impossible" - and proceeded to divide the whole into seven sections! And each with pathetic attempts at annotating the music).

I was anxious to see how Kamu would do the final pages of the score. First, the ascent of the violins after the storm of the third climax - breathtaking were... the silences. The two momentary rests around molto Affettuoso were held on for just the right amount of time, creating deafening anticipation towards the resolution in the trombones before the flute solo. In the last four bars, the lack of bass power reveals itself - the bottom C pedal was simply not enough to affirm the foundation of the giant hymn in C which concludes the symphony. Come on SSO basses - play out!

But overall, these were organic performances - my heartfelt congratulations to Kamu and the SSO for achieving this, for proving my doubts wrong. I suppose it would be more OOMPH-ful if the brass and the basses would generate more power, but that is easy compared to achieving organic unity. So organic... that this simply was the shortest 20 minutes of my musical life, so utterly unbroken was the symphonic flow. My fellow reviewer Adrian, who was with me, said the same thing without my prompting. It did not feel like 20 minutes at all.

In fact, many members of the audience commented on how short this concert was - ending at around 9.45/9.50pm. Before the symphony, we were treated to another rarity: selections from Sibelius' incidental music to Shakespeare's The Tempest, two last works from two great masters. To be precise, these were selections from the two suites the composer compiled from the complete incidental music.

I wondered how the audience would react to the stark contrasts provided, first a powerfully dramatic opening with the introduction to the Berceuse, followed by the actual berceuse (accompanying the scene where Prospero lulls Miranda to sleep), a lullaby on strings which the SSO delivered beautifully and tenderly. Woodwinds were nice and shrill in Caliban's Song, though I suppose the strings could probably impart a bit more swing into the drunken swirls.

Okko Kamu Kamu chose two of the happiest things Sibelius ever wrote for orchestra, the Dance of the Nymphs and The Naiads. For the first, a concise portrait of sylvan delight, again the SSO could afford to swing a bit more in this swaying music, but I was most impressed with the clarity and delicacy of playing. The happy Naiads were played with sunshine brilliance, the dark contrasting punctuations stamped with dramatic fervour.

Dr John Sharpley writes with great admiration for the composer and music in the programme notes, for which I shamelessly approve :). But one thing which I don't agree is his note that "reference to Shakespeare's play is superfluous". On the contrary, the relationship between Shakespeare, his final and most enigmatic play The Tempest, Prospero and his struggle with his art, and Sibelius at the end of his "publicly visible" creative period - is a startling one, as I have laid out in my essay on The Tempest. If you agree with me, you will realise that the solemn-heroic music for Prospero means much more than theatre music. The SSO played well, with feeling, but I don't think with enough weight.

But weight was not lacking in The Storm - on Friday night, the hushed opening was magic, creating much anticipation. I don't really care for technical accuracy here too much - a storm is ordered chaos! - the performance was focussed and loud(!), which is fine! Perhaps more could be made of the gruesome chromatics, and the snare drum was conspicuously either missing or too quiet. The heavy brass (and cymbals!) had much fun with their simple sea swells, and the final climax was pounded with gusto. Orchestra and conductor were quite amused, as was the audience. Too bad they only played this second storm - the first storm, the overture to the play, is the real monster!

Even as I type this, the situation is that Okko Kamu has indicated that he may not be renewing his contract with the SSO as he wants to spend more time with his family. This came as a big disappointment to us Inkpotters - it will be a severe severe loss. But negotiations are going on now at the SSC, and we hope for the best. As far as the Flying Inkpot is concerned, the combination of SSO and Okko Kamu has (always had) our full support.

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