Canada Various: Victor Julien-Laferrière (cello), Vancouver Symphony Orchestra / Antony Hermus (conductor). Orpheum Theatre, Vancouver, 22.11.2024. (GN)
Wagenaar – Overture to The Taming of the Shrew
Tchaikovsky – Variations on a Rococo Theme (ed. Fitzenhagen)
Bruckner – Symphony No.6 in A major, WAB106
This was a refreshing Vancouver Symphony Orchestra ‘mystery’ concert: a young cellist and a conductor we had never seen before, plus an historical composer we had not previously heard. The cellist was Victor Julien-Laferrière, winner of the first prize in the Queen Elisabeth Competition in 2017, collaborating with Antony Hermus, Chief Conductor of the Belgian National Orchestra. Julien-Laferrière is an estimable French cellist who has a beautifully burnished tone, obvious virtuosity and a natural sensitivity. His performance of Tchaikovsky’s Variations on a Rococo Theme certainly showed a questing spirit, but he seemed to push the work in too many directions, leaving the overall result unsettled. An overture by the forgotten Dutch composer Johannes Wagenaar (1862-1941) was the mystery work, and it intrigued with its energy and idiosyncratic mix of styles. The crowning glory was Hermus’s Bruckner No.6 which, though not perfect in its execution, built with true spirit and radiant cumulative strength.
Wagenaar’s Taming of the Shrew overture was written in 1909, though one would never think that when hearing the opening. The bustling strings and bubbling woodwinds place it as an opera overture of the nineteenth century, not the twentieth. Interestingly, the feeling is not Germanic, it is lighter, perhaps French (the composer apparently was influenced by Berlioz), or even Swedish/Danish. Its ‘play of the elves’ quality took me somewhere on the path from Berwald to Alfvén. Long, luxuriant string lines eventually make their entrance, and in stunning contrast, one is convinced that these could never have been written in the nineteenth century. For me, they are pure 1930s Hollywood and perfect for a film score, though critics have sometimes mentioned the influence of Richard Strauss. After a few more of these juxtapositions, the work gallops through a few false endings before closing with great flourish. Indeed, it is lots of fun, and the energy is contagious. Hermus has recorded this overture, along with a few of the composer’s other pieces, for CPO, and Riccardo Chailly recorded it for Decca in the late 1980s just after he took over the Concertgebouw. Wagenaar is now regarded as a Dutch ‘founder’.
Julien-Laferrière’s Tchaikovsky started well, with beautifully clean lines at the opening and in the first few variations, though more lean than sweet. There is often a nice touch of whimsy in his playing, and a good sense of architecture too. Nonetheless, I felt he was somewhat reluctant to fully savour the sensual cantabile cello lines that dominate the work. It was in the long cadenza, which was treated very darkly and dirge-like, that I thought we might be in for a rather different interpretation, perhaps starker and more modernist. The darkness was reinforced by the way the cellist selectively extended pianissimo passages and dropped them to a whisper in the variations immediately following. Unfortunately, this perspective was not pursued: the last variations were rattled off rather cavalierly, serving more as vehicles for virtuoso display. I had to conclude that the cellist was treating each variation separately and, ultimately, this made the reading lack balance and feel skittish. The charm, warmth and lyrical unity normally felt at the work’s close were not present, and the cumulative feeling was neither dark nor sweet.
The coordination of soloist and orchestra was fair. The wonderful little interchanges between the cellist and the first violins were pretty good, though they could have been even more whiplash. At points, I found the orchestra marginally behind the soloist but, overall, I enjoyed seeing this young cellist’s range of talents. Critics have noted that Julien-Laferrière’s recent recordings often have a probing dimension to them, so we may have been witnessing some of that here, albeit in unfinished and slightly self-conscious form.
Bruckner is a composer with whom the VSO has not had much experience, and performances over the last decade have too often displayed a lack of style. Probably the most insightful was Michael Sanderling’s performance of Symphony No.3, though the (late) Bramwell Tovey’s reading of No.4 was good too. Antony Hermus is a Bruckner/Mahler specialist, and the current performance of No.6 certainly ranked with the best, demonstrating keen Brucknerian instincts throughout. The work might be regarded as the ‘ugly duckling’ of his later symphonies, played less often than the others and posing some interpretative difficulties, but I have found it inspired since first hearing Otto Klemperer’s mid-sixties recording long ago.
This performance started less than confidently, very small scale, with strings rather vague and winds occasionally out of sync, but the maestro’s rhythmic certainty and the strong, noble brass righted the ship fairly quickly. Hermus balanced the quiet lyrical passages against the more extrovert expression with a sure hand, and the brass sequences felt like powerful universal utterances rather than garish march music. I also admired the conductor’s consistent efforts to control dynamics, especially in ensuring softer volumes. His tendency to strongly damp the strings and winds just before brass forays might have been a little severe, but it did allow the climaxes to have real elemental thrust.
The chief difficulties for the orchestra were getting the winds to be expressive enough (the oboe is especially important); and getting the articulation of the string counterpoint at soft volumes well-enough defined. The latter problem was not fully conquered, but the wind contribution improved markedly as the work progressed. The brass were generally excellent, although the horns could have been louder at times. In any case, a nice pulse was established by the middle of the opening movement, and Bruckner’s characteristic alternation between the dramatic and the lyrical was negotiated convincingly.
The Adagio was just about perfect, starting from warm and rich string textures and then moving into a beautiful lyricism where the movement’s sadness, gravity and nobility were communicated with both feeling and the right sense of timelessness. The Scherzo had a cunning, rustic gait, and the Trio, with its innovative pizzicato, was perfectly judged. The treatment of the tricky Finale was judicious too, setting a tempo that allowed the faster motion of the opening theme to be integrated more successfully than usual with its more expansive lyrical episodes. At the close, where the brass theme from the beginning of the work is restated triumphantly, the symphony resolved with all the unity and resplendent power that it should. A very fine experience and one where the conductor’s love of the music shone through!
Geoffrey Newman