United Kingdom Stravinsky, Tüür: Nicolas Altstaedt (cello), Philharmonia / Paavo Järvi (conductor). Royal Festival Hall, London, 27.2.2025. (JR)
Stravinsky – Petrushka (1947 version); The Firebird Suite
Tüür – Cello Concerto No.2 Labyrinths of Life (UK première)
Petrushka should be a bundle of spiky fun, but I am afraid that this performance stopped well short, due – I suspect – to a lack of sufficient rehearsal time. The Philharmonia played it through but there were frequent lapses in timing and a lack of balance, so that the work did not gel as it can and should. Paavo Järvi had to keep strict time in an attempt to keep his players together. Praise should however go to the golden, silky flute of Samuel Coles. Järvi did manage to bring out the humour of the piece and exposed all the layers very cleanly, and his positioning of the piano centre stage was judicious. Whilst the orchestra principals were able to demonstrate their virtuosity, the performance as a whole was rather a damp squib.
Estonian composer Erkki-Sven Tüür is a very old friend of Järvi’s (I believe they went to school together) and Järvi is one of Tüür’s champions. Tüür’s First Cello Concerto was recorded in 2012 by Nicolas Altstaedt; composer and cellist then agreed on a second concerto and this performance was its UK première. It was premiered in Bamberg last year, having been commissioned by the Bamberg Symphoniker, the Estonian National Symphony Orchestra and the Philharmonia. The work is based on a short poem by Federico Garcia Lorca (‘I know there is no straight road…in this world, only a giant labyrinth of intersecting crossroads’). The work has three movements continued without a pause; they are not straight and intersect. The first movement entitled ‘Dark’ is indeed dark and gloomy, exploring the growling low register of the cello. Despite much energetic percussion towards the movement’s end, it did not do enough to dispel this listener’s ennui. The second movement (‘Deep’) was reflective; Tüür’s compositional style is polystylistic, in other words he uses multiple styles, consequently his music can seem without recognisable line. Tüür was a leading rock musician (with a group called ‘Spe’) in Estonia until perestroika allowed him to seek an audience in the West. There was no doubting Nicolas Altstaedt’s technical prowess on his instrument, the work providing significant challenges. The third movement ‘Light’ was the most accessible, with the soloist strumming on his instrument to the accompaniment of bongo drums in the orchestra and a tutti explosion before the work’s calm ending. The composer was present, given a big hug by Järvi but only a polite reception from the audience, the work having rather outstayed its welcome.
Rehearsal time had clearly been spent on The Firebird, allowing Järvi to relax his left hand and let the orchestra loose. Järvi controlled dynamics, keeping the orchestra’s tinder dry until needed. The final brass peroration was spine-tingling, though at times I yearned for some more bloom from the strings. Principal bassoon Francesco Bossone, cellist Louisa Tuck, trumpeter Jason Evans and oboe Timothy Rundle all stood out.
John Rhodes