Mozart’s Requiem – Melbourne Symphony Orchestra

8th March, Hamer Hall, Melbourne

This was certainly a concert of grand ambitions, marrying Mozart’s epic Requiem mass with Bartok’s masterpiece, the Music for Strings, Percussion and Celeste. Though not immediately clear, it is possible to find common ground between these pieces; both deal with the juxtaposition of forces as an integral part of their sound palette. They tread a similar path in their exploration of a dark, dramatic soundscape, though musical language is of course incredibly varied. Not so with the opening piece – Wagner’s Prelude to the Mastersingers of Nuremberg – which felt rather out of place on the program despite beautifully rich sonorities from the brass.

Both in the Bartok and the Mozart, the conductor and orchestra seemed to take a little while to get into their stride. The opening Andante tranquillo of the Bartok, in particular, seemed rather angular and a little bereft of melodic direction. However, this was more than made up for as the piece progressed, with brisker movements displaying cheekily discursive playing from the strings. Edward Gardner demanded a wonderful range of dynamics, and both he and the orchestra fully embraced Bartok’s stereophonic vision. The wonderful thing about this music is an exploration of colour, and this was always the central focus. The third, Adagio movement was stunningly eerie, and on more that one occasion I found myself amazed at the sounds Bartok and Gardner achieved by the combination of instrumental timbres. Gardner’s verbal introduction to this piece was great – informative and passionate. I really hope that it encouraged some less-experienced listeners to really give Bartok’s music a go!

For most of the audience, of course, the Requiem was the big event (I have to admit, it was for the Bartok that this concert was so prominently marked in my diary), and the orchestra didn’t disappoint. Though taking the first few movements to really settle into a feeling of absolute cohesion of intention, both choir and orchestra performed with a sense of drama and gusto. Tempos seemed on the brisk side, but this only seemed to add to the urgency and foreboding in the choral movements. Soloists Elena Xanthoudakis, Sally-Anne Russell, Andrew Staples and Matthew Rose were many not quite as spectacular as I would have liked on their own, but more than made up for the when singing as a quartet. Particularly impressive were the Recordare and Benedictus, where the blend of voices was stunning.

A Spectacular Return – Act 1 – Melbourne Symphony Orchestra

Friday 10th August

The Melbourne Symphony Orchestra’s return to their newly refurbished home at Hamer Hall was grand to say the least. With a packed house and a sense of celebration, the opening night concert showcased the hall and its new acoustics through a diversity of music and creative ideas.

Rather unusual though it is for an orchestral concert to begin with a solo work, let alone one by a living Australian composer, Ross Edwards Water Spirit Song for solo cello was indeed an inspired choice to highlight Hamer Hall’s stunning acoustics. David Berlin played with sensitivity and flair, though possibly a little erratically at times, and each detail of the cello’s meandering line was clearly audible.

Thomas Ades’s Polaris which followed tested the hall at the other end of the sound spectrum, comprising a full orchestra with brass positioned strategically around the balconies. The effect was stunning, as orchestra and hall alike coped effortlessly with the timberal variety of this ambitious work. Conductor Markus Stenz’s understanding of Ades and his music was clear, and he demanded energy of the orchestra throughout. While the visuals created by video artist Tal Rosner were beautiful in their own right, they were a little superfluous to the music on such an occasion, adding an additional level of clutter when none was needed.

Finally, Gustav Mahler’s mighty Symphony No. 3, together with mezzo-soprano Petra Lang, solo posthorn and two choirs, took its place as showpiece of the evening. This is a stunning work, but also one on a colossal scale, and may have pushed the concert out a little too far for some audience members. Nevertheless, Mahler does save his most poignant until the end. While the opening movement would indeed be hard to surpass in terms of majesty and length, the fourth and fifth movements with choir and solo voice were at once stunningly dramatic and perfectly blended. The sixth and final movement, which could easily have dragged, instead lifted to a new level, with Stenz and the orchestra thoughtfully caressing each and every note.