Back from a couple of rainy days in Vienna, the English Baroque Soloists presented an amended programme of bookended Mozart symphonies and his Double Piano Concerto earlier this week at St Martin in the Fields.
Knowing that Mozart’s Symphony No. 1 (or what is widely believed to be his first) was written at 180 Ebury Street, London, leant this English Baroque Soloists performance at St Martin-in-the-Fields an appealing sense of place. Composed during the grand tour undertaken by Leopold Mozart and his young prodigy son Wolfgang, there’s a frisson about the idea that what we were listening to was a holiday project to keep an incalcitrant youngster occupied during an overseas trip.
The symphony is a light, spirited, and short work. For some, it might risk sounding twee or underdeveloped: this evidently isn’t the Mozart we hear in the later symphonies some might be more familiar with. Yet the hints at the mature musical language is tantalising, regardless of the questions that arise regarding how the work was subject to Daddy’s help. In this performance such detail hardly mattered. The performance under Marc Minkowski was vibrant and full of bite. The opening Allegro was delivered at an energetic pace, with gritty, bold strings and brass that punctuated phrases with commanding staples of sound.
The second movement’s slow burn found expressive depth in its central section, thanks to Minkowski’s sometimes brutal use of dynamic contrast. Here, an unexpected moment of vulnerability that seemed to stop time. The final movement brought a joyous barrage of fireworks, ricocheting from one side of the orchestra to the other, ebouilliant chords ringing out like bells. Once more, dynamic variety added variety and, in places, a playful kind of jeopardy and all-round schzuzz.
If Leopold did help with the homework, he clearly knew what he was doing. Still, a question lingers: where is the line between fatherly pride and the haunting reminder your kids of your own limitations?
Glistening string legatos opened the concerto for two pianos in a performance from the Labeque sisters which saw an imbalance between the two piano lines that was at times unsatisfying. In the first movement there was a sense both instrumentalists were sparring, though this shifted as the collective ensemble became more accustomed to the acoustic in the second movement. Here, the oboes relatively modest contribution added spectacular colour that jarred in all the right ways, though whoever it was who was humming along might want to not to do that in future. The lower powered second piano line worked well in the spirited third movement where the echoes make for a delight for the ears in an ambient space.
The post-interval Idomeneo Chaconne was executed with consistent rip-roaring virtuosity. English Baroque Soloists should come with a warning: they are a fierce proposition and an Olympian watch. The very foundations of the church seemed to shake, rattling the crockery and the cutlery in the crypt. There were moments when the ensemble slipped momentarily (between first violin and wind) but this arguably more to do with Minowski’s reluctance to sub-divide the beat than anything else.
As is customary in concert programmes, it was the concluding symphony – Mozart’s ‘Prague’, number thirty eight – that delivered with sparkle. After a graceful introduction the main event shone with beautifully crafted musical hesitations, the gentle placing of chords demonstrating deft team work and the kind of coordination the EBS are renowned for. The allegro was executed at a rivetingly breakneck speed; in moments it sometimes felt on the brink. Cellos and basses contributed with grit, growls, and big smiles throughout the first movement that sometimes saw transitions reminiscent of the Idomeneo before. The third movement andante provided exquisite contrast: calm, still prompt and delightfully whispy, but prone to similar challenges with the beat. The concluding presto was executed in a characteristically prompt fashion, with detail sometimes lost, but an epic muscular sound where it was called for. Props to the bassoons for their considerable contribution chuntering away, providing a vital lead. Where the intensity sometimes felt as though we were on a precipice, the virtuosity, smiles and nods in the final push provided a cushion of reassurance.
