Concert review: Laura Fleur, mezzo / Guildhall Symphony Orchestra / Roberto Gonzalez-Monjas (Barbican Centre)

The concert, which took place on 17 March, featured three twentieth century works which are renowned as orchestral showpieces. They are, in short, perfect vehicles for any orchestra to show what it is made of. More so, if the orchestra is comprised of precious and developing talents of the future, as the Guildhall Symphony Orchestra undoubtedly is.

[Image credit: Guildhall School of Music & Drama]

Lutosławski’s Concerto for Orchestra, written between 1950 and 1954, was given an assured performance under the baton of Guildhall alumnus and faculty member Roberto Gonzalez-Monjas. The first movement impressed immediately with the imposing and purposeful opening chords that united the harps and timpani. The dance rhythms that dominate the movement were realised with a surety of purpose and deftness of touch throughout the instrumental ranges. If one quality stood out, it was the naturalistic blending and contrasting of instrumental sonorities, which surely resulted from careful preparation that went into the performance as a whole. Witness, for example, how the horns played off against the almost bickering oboes and clarinets with the appearance of the second theme. The middle movement gave a further opportunity for the orchestra’s instrumental sections to showcase their quality. Whilst the speed required by the capriccio was delivered by Roberto Gonzalez-Monjas’ aptly chosen tempo, other qualities delivered a performance that emphasised the textural aspects of Lutosławski’s score. Whereas some music relies on volume to impress, Lutosławski calls for nuanced playing and delicate layering of individual lines to achieve his intended aims. These qualities were delivered in abundance. The closing movement’s complex tri-partite structure presents challenges of contrast and integration to achieve a performance that satisfies. Roberto Gonzalez-Monjas was fully alert to these challenges, as were the orchestra. The Guildhall Symphony Orchestra drew out the drama and playfulness within individual parts delightfully to realise a score that calls for tour-de-force performance qualities.

Ravel’s Shéhérazade transported the audience away from Eastern Europe and towards the Middle East through evocations tales from One Thousand and One Nights. Ravel freely admitted Debussy was the inspiration for the work and was intent on setting difficult verse and in the opening Asie the normally restrained Ravel reaches heights of near Wagnerian ecstasy as he reaches the words “Je voudrais voir mourir d’amour ou bien dela haine”, penned aptly under A.J. Léon Leclère’s pseudonym Tristan Klingsor. Singer and orchestra are packed off on this journey supplied with all imaginable richness to deliver the listener as they recount a virtual Baedeker account of Middle Eastern sights to the delight of ear and eye. The mezzo soprano Laura Fleur proved a sensitive guide to such rich desires, her tone creamy, secure of pitch and with occasionally veiled annunciation, whilst Gonzalez-Monjas provided reassuring guidance for the orchestra. The contrasts of tone, with brightness to the fore, in the harps, celesta and piccolo accented the second song, to which Laura Fleur brought a sense of wonder through her use of the text. Then inferences of danger roused singer and orchestra alike to a conclusion of some impact in the final song.  

Scriabin’s Poem of Ecstasy rounded out this involving programme. Originally conceived of a four movement symphony, in its final form it became a condensed single movement written in sonata form. Therefore, on one level there is an aspect formal structure. In almost every other respect though Scriabin forged his own path: there are no themes and no development of material in the traditional sense. Whilst writing the Poem of Ecstasy Scriabin spoke of a “great joy”. This sense of uplifting passion was realised by the Guildhall Symphony Orchestra: their performance was fully alert to the iconoclasm of Scriabin’s score. Many sequences of blazing instrumental colour and textural splashes would have clearly delighted the Barbican Hall audience. None more so than the work’s music-shattering finale, which was galvanised by playing of ferocious energy.
 
Reviewed from a streamed recording