Edinburgh’s International Festival hosts Bamberg Symphony and celebrated soprano Elizabeth Llewellyn
Bamberg Symphony Orchestra’s Edinburgh residency at the International Festival this year was the impetus for heading to Scotland this week. Whilst there, a chance to see one of the UK’s much-admired sopranos, Elizabeth Llewellyn.
The chamber music series at the Queen’s Hall on Clerk Street saw a strong turnout for Elizabeth Llewellyn and Simon Lepper’s satisfyingly varied programme of song including Finzi’s setting of poetry by Thomas Hardy in Till Earth Outwears, selected works by Chausson, Strauss, and Puccini.
Throughout Elizabeth Llewellyn’s Edinburgh recital her musical and beguiling calling card was evident. Her deft and reliable ability to leap from lower to higher registers, matching colours, textures and dynamics in such a way that it evokes an intense emotional reaction in the listener is something once experienced, subsequently sought out. A magical thing.
So too, as demonstrated in Strauss’ Nachtgang her ability to hit the note ‘bang in the centre’ – pleasingly reassuring for those of us who struggle with the negative consequences of perfectionism.
Finzi’s setting of Hardy’s poetry is far from the sentimentality sometimes assumed of the English composer. In this collection of songs, Finzi’s score reflects Hardy’s existential despair by combining pastoral lyricism with a complex mix of melancholy and nostalgia.
Elizabeth Llewellyn navigated the short intense expressions with aplomb drawing on both her technical mastery and innate storytelling. Her subtle shifts in physicality at the beginning of each song made for a captivating performance.
Six Sorrow Songs from Coleridge-Taylor aren’t performed enough, so the duo’s album release from 2021 is a good destination for exploring the composer’s considerable legacy. Hearing a handful of these songs showed Elizabeth Llewellyn at her most supple vocally, especially in Oh, Roses for the Flush of Youth.
Dvorak’s Love Songs gave more opportunity for Llewellyn’s operatic voice to take centre stage, with more octave leaps to set the heart racing and the smoothest of smooth legatos to caress and console. Here her versatility and adaptability were clearly displayed and a joy to watch.
The other draw for this trip to Edinburgh was the Bamberg Symphony residency. Three dates featuring repertoire that contributes to the German band’s considerable reputation (Dvorak and Mahler), plus some rarer heard stuff (Hans Rott), and music by Suk. The Hans Rott Symphony No.1 (his only symphony) comes laden with a tragic tale.
Student composer berated by the composer-tutor he admired later wields a gun on a train carriage full of passengers, is ‘sectioned’, suffers from depression and eventually dies of pneumonia in 1884.
Hrůša’s baton technique, his detail, and his nuance are graceful, wide-ranging and compelling. What he brings out from the players is remarkable.
Thoroughly Good
Expectations were high given the life story. And whilst the anticipation was rewarded in the first two movements, the final considerably longer two felt as though they might have benefitted from a bit of an edit. It’s all grand but, I think its fair to say this: it felt a bit ‘meh’ as a complete work.
This in stark contrast to a surprisingly upbeat and celebratory Bruckner C minor – a real surprise and nothing like some of the symphonies. Nor, Mahler’s Lieder eines fahrenden Gesellen – exquisitely executed by mezzo Catriona Morison whose tender and detailed interpretation was met with enthusiastic applause.
Isabelle Faust and Sol Gabetta were the perfect pairing for Brahms’ Double, far better suited than Pablo Ferrandez and Anne Sophie Mutter with the LA Phil and Dudamel I saw at the Walt Disney Concert Hall in January this year). Brahms’s score is the soundtrack to a seemingly never-ending summer of the kind I recall as a kid, and theirs a musical connection that just aches best friends forever.
The high point of my Bamberg/Edinburgh experience was unquestionably their performance of Dvorak’s 9th Symphony. Hrusa’s baton technique, his detail, and his nuance are graceful, wide-ranging and compelling. What he brings out from the players is remarkable. Muscular string playing, nimble responses, and the tautest and most solid of woodwind ensemble. The famed cor anglais solo in the second movement was breathtaking, each note placed assertively forming an unassailable musical line. Tears followed. This was the best I’d ever heard it.
Edinburgh International Festival continues to play its programming straight down the line, unapologetically putting core repertoire along the unfamiliar with confidence and pride. It is reassuring to know that there is at the present time somewhere I feel at home – somewhere, like Aldeburgh, that knows how to pique interest and satisfy curiosity. More, please.
