United Kingdom Mendelssohn, Brahms, Dvořák: Leonidas Kavakos (violin and conductor), Philharmonia Orchestra. Royal Festival Hall, London, 5.11.2023. (CSa)
Mendelssohn – Violin Concerto in E minor
Brahms – Variations on a Theme by Haydn
Dvořák – Symphony No.8 in G major
‘I can only say I shall be indebted to you all my life for having the best and noblest intentions towards me which are worthy of a truly great artist,’ wrote Antonin Dvořák to his mentor, close friend and hiking companion, Johannes Brahms. Brahms, who recognised the young Czech as a composer of extraordinary capacity, also held the work of Felix Mendelssohn in the highest regard. All of them stood amongst the greatest of nineteenth-century conservative Romantic composers, and each had an extraordinary gift for instrumental virtuosity, complex symphonic structures and sumptuous orchestral colour. The historical inter-connection and cultural cross currents linking these three men were on full display in a coherently programmed and delightful concert by the Philharmonia and the legendary violinist Leonidas Kavakos, who featured both as soloist and conductor.
The afternoon began with a beautifully measured, minimally conducted account of Mendelssohn’s Violin Concerto in E minor. The brilliance of the concerto was once described by the great Josef Joachim as ‘the most inward’ and ‘the heart’s jewel’. His metaphor was perfectly captured by Kavakos, his 1734 ‘Willemotte’ Stradivarius in hand, in an introspective performance of adamantine clarity. Turning only occasionally towards his well-seasoned and intuitive players to beat time, Kavakos’s performance was pitch perfect; emotionally expressive, but never over-sweetened. He found the perfect balance between virtuosity and simplicity of expression. From the hauntingly lyrical tune in the opening Allegro – molto appassionato to a gorgeous solo middle section which concludes in a tempestuous coda, the violin, eschewing excessive vibrato, sang soulfully but unsentimentally. A bewitching bassoon solo (principal bassoonist Paul Boyes on fine form) linked us to the second movement, an Andante of great tenderness. Kavakos played so quietly that at times one could have heard a pin drop. Then came a magical Allegretto – a delicate shawl of sound, the players and soloist weaving together in the elaborate countertheme. The ecstatic reception which greeted the end of the thrilling finale was well earned.
Kavakos took a modest bow and joined in applauding the orchestra before leaving the stage. By the time Kavakos returned, a rostrum had been wheeled on and stood in readiness for him to conduct Brahms’s mighty set of eight Variations on a Theme by Haydn. Baton free and without a score, the genial Kavakos used his expressive hands to guide his ensemble. The Philharmonia’s exposition of this series of rhapsodic developments and glorious embellishments on a theme (now known to have been wrongly attributed to Haydn) was all leanness, grace and lightness of touch. Modulation, pace and cohesion between the various sections demonstrated an orchestra at the top of its game. Yet, as good as the playing was – and it was very good – one felt that the deeply musical Kavakos was responding to rather than controlling the performance, and that the ultimate sound and shape of this interpretation was determined by musicians who knew every nuance within the score.
The second half was devoted to one work: Dvořák’s Eighth Symphony. Composed in 1889, some 17 years after the Variations on a Theme by Haydn, Brahms’s later symphonic works were clearly an underlying influence and inspiration. Yet, Dvořák, was a natural tunesmith, and the abundance of gorgeous melodies which proliferate coupled with the translucent orchestration in which they are set, make the essence of this work uniquely his own. At the time the symphony was written, Dvořák was living and working at his country residence Vysokà, deep in the Czech countryside, and each movement contains impressions of the natural world. The Philharmonia needed little guidance from the podium, and intuitively tapped into the bucolic qualities of the work in a performance of sparkling beauty. In the first movement Allegro sonorous, shimmering strings, vibrant woodwind and a birdlike arpeggiated flute (superbly played by Samuel Coles) sounded as fresh and energetic as a brisk walk through the fields surrounding Dvořák’s home. Different elements were at play in the Adagio. A contemplative and melancholy melody in the strings flowed through the movement like a river, while chirping flutes and languorous clarinets evoked teeming animal life along its banks. After a lilting Czech waltz in the Allegretto grazioso, came an uplifting finale, its great coda crowned by an exuberant fanfare by members of the Phiharmonia’s outstanding brass section.
An unashamedly populist programme to be sure, but a superbly executed concert of magnificent music which filled the Royal Festival Hall and gave the audience an afternoon of life-enhancing joy.
Chris Sallon