Et brølende råb om frihed | Koncertanmeldelse - A roaring cry for freedom
klassisk.org
Andrew Mellor
28.08.2017
[scroll down for the english version]
Vi får ofte fortalt, at de bedste orkestre i verden bygger på erfaring og tradition, der strækker sig over mange år. Så er det overhovedet muligt at sætte en gruppe musikere sammen og skabe et overbevisende og måske endda særligt orkesterudtryk i løbet af få dage?
Det er forsøgt før. Claudio Abbado skabte Lucerne Festival Orchestra ved at håndplukke de bedste orkestermusikere i Europa, som øvede sammen nogle få uger hver sommer. Seiji Ozawa etablerede Saito Kinen Orchestra i Japan ud fra en lignende model, og orkestret udviklede hurtigt en særegen lyd og udtryk.
Men det nyeste forsøg stammer fra Estland. Paavo Järvi grundlagde det estiske festivalorkester i 2011 for at sammenstykke topmusikere fra orkestre i Europa og Amerika med talentfulde unge kolleger fra Estland. Formålet var tosidet: at give estiske musikere mulighed for at skabe kontakter ude i orkesterverden og samtidig skabe nogle rammer for musikere, som kunne føre til magiske koncerter, ligesom dem Abbado førhen førte an med i Lucerne.
Järvis orkester fik gode anmeldelser i årene efter grundlæggelsen, men musikerne fortsætter med at variere meget fra år til år. Estlands Festivalorkester var forbi Tivoli den 22. august, og nu skal jeg nok komme til sagen: Fungerer 2017-udgaven af hans eksperiment? Det gør det helt bestemt.
Der er mange risici forbundet med projektet: at ensemblets instrumenter ikke vil blende, når man tænker på de mange egoers sammenstød (der er mindst otte koncertmestre eller sektionsledere fra orkestre i hele Europa blandt Järvis strygere), og at musikernes manglende kendskab til hinanden vil sabotere det instinktive samspil, som orkestermusikere normalt kan læne sig op ad. Men festivalorkestret byder også på en række muligheder: At fraværet af rutine rent faktisk kan fremkalde en ny fleksibilitet og spontanitet i ensemblet, og at stemningen fra “sommerlejrens øvelokale” i den estiske ferieby Pärnu kan give koncerterne en fornemmelse af kammeratskab, som man sjældent oplever hos etablerede orkestre.
Kammeratskabet strømmede ud af Järvis orkester, såvel som koncentration og glæde i spandevis. Opførelsen af Carl Nielsens ‘Aladdin Suite’ denne torsdag i Pärnu var lidt for entusiastisk, men fuld af charme og Nielsens rytmiske sjov og spil sprudlede. Derefter var det forfriskende at høre Tjajkovskijs violinkoncert fremført med stilhed og delikatesse. Solisten Lisa Batiashvili (foto) brøler sig ikke igennem denne koncert, som visse andre, men foretrækker en ydmyg og bekendende tilgang. Under hendes solospil viste Estlands Festivalorkesters strygere, at de kunne spille svagt og føre melodilinjerne frem til sidste node. Blæserne var ligeledes fleksible. Klarinettist Matthew Hunts samspil med Batiashvili i 2. sats havde lethed som en soufflé, og det var en ligeværdig dialog. Alle lyttede intenst – det var de nødt til.
Efter pausen var det tid til Sibelius Symfoni nr. 2, og det var her at Järvis eksperiment for alvor viste potentialet. Mange i orkestret, heriblandt erfarne fagfolk fra Tyskland og Frankrig, hvor Sibelius er et musikalsk fyord, havde aldrig spillet værket før. Der var friskhed og opdagelse i luften, og i perioder virkede det som om, at musikerne var som fortryllet af Sibelius’ mærkelige nye teksturer. De mange violintriller, der dukker op halvvejs i den første sats, glinsede som lyset der skinner i skovbrynet. Magisk.
Udover at byde på isolerede øjeblikke med intens skønhed, var dette en præstation når det angår form, dybde, kraft, koncentration, sammenspil og vildskab. Der var en energi, der gennemsyrede musikken fra første node, og som blev fastholdt til sidste side. Musikken blev trukket ud af Järvi for at understrege Sibelius’ hjerteskærende følelse af dødvægt. Det mindede om et brølende råb om frihed. Få kunne være gået glip af symbolikken, som om de snesevis af unge estiske musikere i ensemblet fik mulighed for at introducere sig selv til verden. Publikum gik amok i lige så høj grad af stolthed som af glæde.
Estlands Festivalorkester / Dirigent Paavo Järvi / Solist Lisa Batiashvili
Pärnu Koncertsal, Estland, den 17.8.17
Foto: Kaupo Kikkas
[ENGLISH VERSION]
A roaring cry for freedom
We heard camaraderie from Järvi’s Estonian Festival Orchestra, as well as concentration and joy in spades.
****** (6 stars out of 6)
By Andrew Mellor
We are told that the best orchestras in the world are built on centuries of tradition. So is it possible to throw together a group of musicians and create a convincing, perhaps even a distinctive orchestral sound in a matter of days?
It has been attempted before. Claudio Abbado created the Lucerne Festival Orchestra from a handpicked team of the best orchestral players in Europe, who work together for just a few weeks every summer. Seiji Ozawa established the Saito Kinen Orchestra in Japan on a similar model, and the band quickly developed a distinctive sound and interpretative style.
But the latest such experiment hails from Estonia. Paavo Järvi founded the Estonian Festival Orchestra in 2011, to unite top orchestral musicians from orchestras in Europe and America with talented young counterparts from Estonia. The purpose was twofold: to give Estonian instrumentalists the chance to make contacts in the wider orchestral world, and to create special conditions for all the musicians which might give birth to the sort of magical performances Abbado used to preside over in Lucerne.
Järvi’s orchestra was getting good reviews a few years after its founding but the personnel continues to change very year. It comes to Tivoli next week, so you’ll want me to cut to the chase: has the 2017 vintage of his experiment worked? It certainly has.
There are many risks: that the ensemble won’t blend sonically given the clash of egos (there are at least eight concertmasters or section leaders from orchestras across Europe among Järvi’s strings); that the players’ lack of familiarity with one another will scupper the instinctiveness on which orchestras rely. But there are also possibilities: that the lack of routine will actually induce a new flexibility and spontaneity in the ensemble; that the ‘summer camp’ atmosphere of the rehearsal and performance base in the Estonian resort of Pärnu will give the performances a feeling of camaraderie that you rarely hear from ‘permanent’ orchestras.
We heard that from Järvi’s orchestra, as well as concentration and joy in spades. Its performance of Nielsen’s Aladdin Suite in Pärnu on Thursday was a little overenthusiastic but full of plain-speaking charm that relished Nielsen’s rhythmic fun and games. After that, it was refreshing to hear Tchaikovsky’s Violin Concerto resounding with quietness and delicacy. Soloist Lisa Batiashvili doesn’t roar through this concerto like some others, preferring a confessional approach that turned and twisted with the consistency of a slackened stretch of ribbon. Underneath her, the EFO strings showed they could balance on pinpoint pianissimos and shape phrases right to the last note. The winds were similarly flexible; clarinetist Matthew Hunt’s interaction with Batiashvili in the second movement had the lightness of a soufflé and the reactivity of a conversation. Everyone was listening hard – they had to.
It was Sibelius’s Symphony No 2 after the interval that really showed the potential of Järvi’s experiment. Many in the band, including seasoned professionals from Germany and France where ‘Sibelius’ is a musical swearword, had never played the piece before. Yes, there was freshness and discovery in the air, and some moments when the players appeared enchanted by Sibelius’s strange, new textures. The en masse violin trills that arrive halfway though the first movement glistened like light shining sideways through a forest. Magical.
But as well as providing isolated moments of intense beauty, this was a performance of shape, depth, power, concentration, reactivity and ferocity. It rose from first note to last, and by the final pages – drawn out by Järvi to underline Sibelius’s heart-rending sense of strain – it resembled roaring cry for freedom. Few could have missed the symbolism, as if the dozens of young Estonian musicians among the ensemble were seizing the opportunity to introduce themselves to the world. The audience went wild, with pride as much as with joy.
Estonian Festival Orchestra / Paavo Järvi
Pärnu Concert Hall, 17.8.17
Andrew Mellor
28.08.2017
[scroll down for the english version]
Kammeratskabet strømmede ud af Paavo Järvis festivalorkester, såvel som koncentration og spilleglæde i spandevis.
6 ud af 6 stjernerVi får ofte fortalt, at de bedste orkestre i verden bygger på erfaring og tradition, der strækker sig over mange år. Så er det overhovedet muligt at sætte en gruppe musikere sammen og skabe et overbevisende og måske endda særligt orkesterudtryk i løbet af få dage?
Det er forsøgt før. Claudio Abbado skabte Lucerne Festival Orchestra ved at håndplukke de bedste orkestermusikere i Europa, som øvede sammen nogle få uger hver sommer. Seiji Ozawa etablerede Saito Kinen Orchestra i Japan ud fra en lignende model, og orkestret udviklede hurtigt en særegen lyd og udtryk.
Men det nyeste forsøg stammer fra Estland. Paavo Järvi grundlagde det estiske festivalorkester i 2011 for at sammenstykke topmusikere fra orkestre i Europa og Amerika med talentfulde unge kolleger fra Estland. Formålet var tosidet: at give estiske musikere mulighed for at skabe kontakter ude i orkesterverden og samtidig skabe nogle rammer for musikere, som kunne føre til magiske koncerter, ligesom dem Abbado førhen førte an med i Lucerne.
Järvis orkester fik gode anmeldelser i årene efter grundlæggelsen, men musikerne fortsætter med at variere meget fra år til år. Estlands Festivalorkester var forbi Tivoli den 22. august, og nu skal jeg nok komme til sagen: Fungerer 2017-udgaven af hans eksperiment? Det gør det helt bestemt.
Der er mange risici forbundet med projektet: at ensemblets instrumenter ikke vil blende, når man tænker på de mange egoers sammenstød (der er mindst otte koncertmestre eller sektionsledere fra orkestre i hele Europa blandt Järvis strygere), og at musikernes manglende kendskab til hinanden vil sabotere det instinktive samspil, som orkestermusikere normalt kan læne sig op ad. Men festivalorkestret byder også på en række muligheder: At fraværet af rutine rent faktisk kan fremkalde en ny fleksibilitet og spontanitet i ensemblet, og at stemningen fra “sommerlejrens øvelokale” i den estiske ferieby Pärnu kan give koncerterne en fornemmelse af kammeratskab, som man sjældent oplever hos etablerede orkestre.
Kammeratskabet strømmede ud af Järvis orkester, såvel som koncentration og glæde i spandevis. Opførelsen af Carl Nielsens ‘Aladdin Suite’ denne torsdag i Pärnu var lidt for entusiastisk, men fuld af charme og Nielsens rytmiske sjov og spil sprudlede. Derefter var det forfriskende at høre Tjajkovskijs violinkoncert fremført med stilhed og delikatesse. Solisten Lisa Batiashvili (foto) brøler sig ikke igennem denne koncert, som visse andre, men foretrækker en ydmyg og bekendende tilgang. Under hendes solospil viste Estlands Festivalorkesters strygere, at de kunne spille svagt og føre melodilinjerne frem til sidste node. Blæserne var ligeledes fleksible. Klarinettist Matthew Hunts samspil med Batiashvili i 2. sats havde lethed som en soufflé, og det var en ligeværdig dialog. Alle lyttede intenst – det var de nødt til.
Efter pausen var det tid til Sibelius Symfoni nr. 2, og det var her at Järvis eksperiment for alvor viste potentialet. Mange i orkestret, heriblandt erfarne fagfolk fra Tyskland og Frankrig, hvor Sibelius er et musikalsk fyord, havde aldrig spillet værket før. Der var friskhed og opdagelse i luften, og i perioder virkede det som om, at musikerne var som fortryllet af Sibelius’ mærkelige nye teksturer. De mange violintriller, der dukker op halvvejs i den første sats, glinsede som lyset der skinner i skovbrynet. Magisk.
Udover at byde på isolerede øjeblikke med intens skønhed, var dette en præstation når det angår form, dybde, kraft, koncentration, sammenspil og vildskab. Der var en energi, der gennemsyrede musikken fra første node, og som blev fastholdt til sidste side. Musikken blev trukket ud af Järvi for at understrege Sibelius’ hjerteskærende følelse af dødvægt. Det mindede om et brølende råb om frihed. Få kunne være gået glip af symbolikken, som om de snesevis af unge estiske musikere i ensemblet fik mulighed for at introducere sig selv til verden. Publikum gik amok i lige så høj grad af stolthed som af glæde.
Estlands Festivalorkester / Dirigent Paavo Järvi / Solist Lisa Batiashvili
Pärnu Koncertsal, Estland, den 17.8.17
Foto: Kaupo Kikkas
[ENGLISH VERSION]
A roaring cry for freedom
We heard camaraderie from Järvi’s Estonian Festival Orchestra, as well as concentration and joy in spades.
****** (6 stars out of 6)
By Andrew Mellor
We are told that the best orchestras in the world are built on centuries of tradition. So is it possible to throw together a group of musicians and create a convincing, perhaps even a distinctive orchestral sound in a matter of days?
It has been attempted before. Claudio Abbado created the Lucerne Festival Orchestra from a handpicked team of the best orchestral players in Europe, who work together for just a few weeks every summer. Seiji Ozawa established the Saito Kinen Orchestra in Japan on a similar model, and the band quickly developed a distinctive sound and interpretative style.
But the latest such experiment hails from Estonia. Paavo Järvi founded the Estonian Festival Orchestra in 2011, to unite top orchestral musicians from orchestras in Europe and America with talented young counterparts from Estonia. The purpose was twofold: to give Estonian instrumentalists the chance to make contacts in the wider orchestral world, and to create special conditions for all the musicians which might give birth to the sort of magical performances Abbado used to preside over in Lucerne.
Järvi’s orchestra was getting good reviews a few years after its founding but the personnel continues to change very year. It comes to Tivoli next week, so you’ll want me to cut to the chase: has the 2017 vintage of his experiment worked? It certainly has.
There are many risks: that the ensemble won’t blend sonically given the clash of egos (there are at least eight concertmasters or section leaders from orchestras across Europe among Järvi’s strings); that the players’ lack of familiarity with one another will scupper the instinctiveness on which orchestras rely. But there are also possibilities: that the lack of routine will actually induce a new flexibility and spontaneity in the ensemble; that the ‘summer camp’ atmosphere of the rehearsal and performance base in the Estonian resort of Pärnu will give the performances a feeling of camaraderie that you rarely hear from ‘permanent’ orchestras.
We heard that from Järvi’s orchestra, as well as concentration and joy in spades. Its performance of Nielsen’s Aladdin Suite in Pärnu on Thursday was a little overenthusiastic but full of plain-speaking charm that relished Nielsen’s rhythmic fun and games. After that, it was refreshing to hear Tchaikovsky’s Violin Concerto resounding with quietness and delicacy. Soloist Lisa Batiashvili doesn’t roar through this concerto like some others, preferring a confessional approach that turned and twisted with the consistency of a slackened stretch of ribbon. Underneath her, the EFO strings showed they could balance on pinpoint pianissimos and shape phrases right to the last note. The winds were similarly flexible; clarinetist Matthew Hunt’s interaction with Batiashvili in the second movement had the lightness of a soufflé and the reactivity of a conversation. Everyone was listening hard – they had to.
It was Sibelius’s Symphony No 2 after the interval that really showed the potential of Järvi’s experiment. Many in the band, including seasoned professionals from Germany and France where ‘Sibelius’ is a musical swearword, had never played the piece before. Yes, there was freshness and discovery in the air, and some moments when the players appeared enchanted by Sibelius’s strange, new textures. The en masse violin trills that arrive halfway though the first movement glistened like light shining sideways through a forest. Magical.
But as well as providing isolated moments of intense beauty, this was a performance of shape, depth, power, concentration, reactivity and ferocity. It rose from first note to last, and by the final pages – drawn out by Järvi to underline Sibelius’s heart-rending sense of strain – it resembled roaring cry for freedom. Few could have missed the symbolism, as if the dozens of young Estonian musicians among the ensemble were seizing the opportunity to introduce themselves to the world. The audience went wild, with pride as much as with joy.
Estonian Festival Orchestra / Paavo Järvi
Pärnu Concert Hall, 17.8.17
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