10 January
FRIDAY SERIES 8
Helsinki Music Centre at 19.00
Hannu Lintu, conductor
Alice Sara Ott, piano
Magnus Lindberg: Era (fp in Finland)
18 min
Felix Mendelssohn:
Piano Concerto No. 1 in G Minor, Op. 25
18 min
I Molto allegro con fuoco
II Andante
III Presto – Molto allegro e vivace
INTERVAL 20 min
Jean Sibelius: Symphony No. 6 in D minor, Op. 104
30 min
I Allegro molto moderato
II Allegretto moderato
III Poco vivace
IV Allegro molto
Jean Sibelius:
Symphony No. 7 in C Major, Op. 105 (in 1 movement)
21 min
Adagio – Un pochettino meno adagio – Vivacissimo – Adagio –
Allegro molto moderato – Allegro moderato – Vivace – Presto –
Adagio – Largamente molto – Affettuoso
Interval at about 19.45. The concert ends at about 21.05.
Broadcast live on Yle Radio 1 and the Internet (yle.fi/klassinen).
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The LATE-NIGHT CHAMBER MUSIC will begin in the main Concert
Hall after an interval of about 10 minutes. Those attending are asked to take
(unnumbered) seats in the stalls.
Magnus Lindberg, piano
Magnus Lindberg: Jubilees
15 min
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build-up which should be suited to the
Concertgebouw and its cathedral-like
resonance, creating a strong dramatic
impression overall.”
The Dutch and British reviews likened
Lindberg’s treatment to that of Richard
Strauss and Scriabin, and if we think of
the tension between these two very
different composers, we may catch a
hint of the depth of Lindberg’s expression in Era. And like Berg, Schönberg,
Stravinsky and Sibelius, these two were
truly in their prime exactly a hundred
years ago, in the enchanting early days
of modern music.
Magnus Lindberg
(b. 1958): Era
Magnus Lindberg composed Era,
now to be heard for the first time in
Finland, as a commission to celebrate the 125th anniversary of the Royal
Concertgebouw Orchestra. The world
premiere was conducted last January by
David Robertson. Also on the programme for that night’s concert were three
works all a century old: Berg’s Altenberg
Lieder, Zemlinsky’s Maeterlinck Songs
and Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring.
Lindberg says of the work’s characteristically pithy title: “Though my
creative personality and early works
were formed from the music of
Zimmermann and Xenakis, and a certain anarchy related to rock music of
that period, I eventually realised that
everything goes back to the foundations of Schönberg and Stravinsky –
how could music ever have taken another road? I see my music now as a
synthesis of these elements, combined
with what I learned from Grisey and the
spectralists, and I detect from Kraft to
my latest pieces the same underlying
tastes and sense of drama.
“In Era I have built the piece from a
powerful underpinning in the bass register.--- I was thinking particularly of
Sibelius’s Fourth Symphony and the
way the music evolves from the bass
line, rising from low to high register.
--- There is a single tempo throughout
but, as with other pieces like Al largo, a
relatively fast tempo in the foreground
is related to a much slower underlying
pace. This allows a strong monolithic
Felix Mendelssohn
(1809–1847): Piano
Concerto No. 1
in G Minor
Felix Mendelssohn composed three
piano concertos, the first when he was
only 12. That in G minor dates from
1831, by which time he had become a
keyboard virtuoso of 22 greatly in need
of a solo number of his own composition to play on his concert tours. In a
letter home he wrote that he was working feverishly on a new piece, and he
appears to have done so at an exceptional pace. He composed most of it in
Italy, together with the first version of
his Italian Symphony.
The quick outer movements are in
many senses a veritable showcase of
early Romantic keyboard virtuosity.
The solo part – brilliant yet infinitely
fluent – sits unusually well under the
hands of a dexterous pianist, yet at the
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same time it tends to draw on the devices developed by Mozart, Beethoven,
Weber and Hummel rather than launching anything new. The young composer seems to have observed the models
of his predecessors while remaining in
thrall to his own nimble fingers.
Mendelssohn wastes no time at all
in this concerto. It is a recognised fact
that his tempos are always faster than
average, and in this concerto, too, the
listener is left breathless by the opening
attack. For the first-movement Allegro
of concertos of that era is usually more
moderate. Mendelssohn leaps into
the fray without any cautious introduction. This is in line with the form
of the whole concerto, which has less
of Mozart and Beethoven and more of
the “Konzertstück” favoured by Weber
and Spohr. As a result, the whole concerto takes only about 18 minutes to
perform. A restrained trumpet fanfare
leads without more ado from the fairly
slight first movement to a slow, idyllic
Andante in E flat major that could at
first almost be by Chopin but later evokes associations with Mendelssohn’s
own Songs Without Words. A fanfare
also heralds in the rollicking finale in G
major. The tempo is even more furious
than at the start of the concerto, and
not even the brief flashback to the serene second theme of the first movement is sufficient to check the unbridled flow.
Jean Sibelius
(1865–1957):
Symphony No. 6
His publisher was all for trashing
Sibelius’s proposal to compose a second “lyrical” Violin Concerto, and
what is more in the same key, D minor.
Discouraged by this reaction, Sibelius
abandoned his plan and instead used
some of the material for what later became his Sixth Symphony (1923).
The concerto element is not the only
odd thing in the symphony’s genesis.
The position of the Sixth in the set
of Sibelius symphonies is interesting
to say the least: spiritually, it is most
clearly akin to the Seventh (they even
have consecutive numbers), but as Erik
Tawaststjerna pointed out, the Sixth is,
genetically, related far more closely to
the Fifth – which is radically different
in character!
The quality most often noted in the
symphony is its modality, referring
to the dominance of modes (archaic
ways of ordering the notes in a scale)
in the tonal structure. Sibelius claimed
that modes came to him more naturally than they did to most of his contemporaries because his roots lay in
the Eastern component of Finnish folk
music. The melodies of poetry such as
that in the Finnish national epic, the
Kalevala, are widely modal, and the
Dorian mode, especially, is claimed to
be particularly “Finnish”. It was also
Sibelius’s favourite mode, colouring the
works of his nationalist period just as
much as such later ones as the Violin
Concerto (the beginning) and the
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at its premiere and a few subsequent
performances. The idea of calling his
work a Symphony had evidently passed through his mind some time before, but discouraged by the prevailing
critical climate, he was not yet quite
bold enough to put it into practice. For
some, the Zeitgeist brought confidence, for others the fear that the very concept “symphony” was an anachronism.
This threat must have greatly unsettled
Sibelius, a composer whose reputation
rested so strongly on the genre.
The premiere in Stockholm on March
24, 1924 was conducted by Sibelius
himself. His misbehaviour at the concert in Gothenburg the previous year,
high on champagne, had so traumatised his wife, Aino, that she no longer
accompanied him on his concert tours.
Her refusal sobered him to such an extent that he gradually gave up conducting, first at home in Finland and later
elsewhere. The fact that the tremor in
his hand was getting increasingly worse did not, of course, help matters. He
finished the Symphony only a couple
of weeks before the first performance,
and since he was the only person with
a copy of the score and refused to travel by plane, little time was left for rehearsal and the performance must in
many respects have left something to
be desired. Even so, it was a great success, and despite its avant-garde structural features, the Seventh has never
been shunned in the way the Fourth
has. This, surely, just goes to prove that
so long as a piece of music is easy on
the ear, the audience will usually accept
any anomalies without more ado.
Fourth Symphony (the cello solo). That
it would occupy a sovereign position
in his Sixth Symphony went without
saying, and although Sibelius had fully
adopted his pan-European, non-nationalist style by the time he wrote this
Symphony, it is still described as his
“most Finnish” one.
“The shadows grow longer” is a phrase often quoted in connection with
Sibelius Six. While I well understand
this expression, I would like to stress
that this most sensitive, explicit and
enigmatic of the Sibelius Symphonies
is not all shadow, for it also projects a
landscape bathed in sunlight.
Jean Sibelius:
(1865–1957):
Symphony No. 7
If the Sixth was a Symphony with a
Finnish take on the modal soundscape of the Renaissance and a Classicist
ideal, the Seventh adopts an ancient
Hellenic perspective. The reason for
this interpretation was supplied by
Sibelius himself in describing the sunny central Allegro as a “Hellenic rondo”.
In structure, the Symphony is equally unique, being cast in a single movement. Sibelius is known to have long
been entertaining dreams of a onemovement Symphony. He nearly made
them come true in his Fifth, but luckily he soon made the right decision
to set aside his plan for a one-movement “symphonic fantasia” for the time
being. Fantasia sinfonica was indeed
the title of the Seventh Symphony
Jouni Kaipainen (abridged)
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child-like, romantic world is mirrored
against Finnish music of the present
day.
The lack of depth should not be
taken as a problem, because that’s
how music was at that time. The great emotions of the full Romantic era
were only just coming in, even though
Beethoven had already touched the
border. Composers like Mendelssohn
and Weber did not see the upheavals
taking place in Europe or the revised
concept of culture as a particularly great artistic challenge. They kept cheerfully chirping along amid the ruins of
the old Rococo Europe.
For us Finns, this style is possibly the
most alien part of the German repertoire. To our minds, German music must
always be profound, serious and noisy.
Of course we happily thump out our
Beethoven, and then Brahms, but these Mendelssohns, Webers and Spohrs
too often go unplayed.
An interview with
Hannu Lintu
Hannu Lintu, what is it about the music
of Magnus Lindberg that appeals to you?
It’s the musicianly approach: the combination of pragmatism and vision
that is so rewarding for the performer.
Magnus’s music also has features with
which I personally, as a musician, feel
a keen affinity: great, dramatic masses
and colourful, varied surface structures. You have to build both a good, firm
base and a lively surface.
Orchestras like playing Lindberg and
the FRSO knows his music like the back
of its own hand. The right way to approach a work always becomes clear at
the first rehearsal, and nothing needs
explaining. Everything just evolves as
you play.
It’s good to hear Mendelssohn’s G minor
Concerto in the same concert. Because
am I right in thinking that Mendelssohn
still has a reputation for being something
of a superficial composer?
You are conducting both the Sixth and
the Seventh Sibelius Symphonies at this
concert. Why two Sibelius works, and how
do they stand in relation to each other?
Mendelssohn’s not considered very profound, that’s true. His reputation has
not always benefited from the fact that
composing was easy for him even as a
child. He composed his Octet when he
was a teenager, and at about the time
of this Concerto he was in his twenties. The orchestration of this Piano
Concerto and the first Symphonies is
indeed sometimes a little clumsy, as regards the use of woodwinds and timpani, but the melodic inspiration is
unique, and in tonight’s concert this
Sibelius created a new world in each
of his Symphonies. Though he continued logically developing his symphonic tools in all of them, they differ greatly in character. Often, what interests
me more is the contrast between them
than their continuity. The Sibelius
Symphonies are not part of a symphonic continuum in quite the same way
as those of Beethoven or Brahms.
It’s nowadays the custom to play these two Symphonies one after the other,
with no break or applause. But for me,
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the worlds of the Sixth and Seventh
differ so greatly that I need a little
mental pause between them. And the
harp and bass clarinet need a chance
to leave the platform.
Then again, I often have the feeling that something is till wanting after the Sixth Symphony. To me, there
could be nothing more beautiful than
to end with the Sixth, but it often leaves me with the feeling that somehow
something’s left hanging in the air.
The Seventh has lots of profound, strong shades, whereas the Sixth glides
along very lightly and ultimately vanishes into thin air. So you have to choose
what state of mind you want your audience to go home in.
These Symphonies were going round
in Sibelius’s head at more or less the
same time, but they differ greatly in
character and form. The Sixth in principle has a classical four-movement
structure, but its movements are more
like character pieces than parts of a
coherent symphonic entity. Its world
is very similar to the music of The
Tempest: it has a similar transparency.
When I’m conducting the Sixth, I often
have the feeling I’m conducting not
a Symphony but a vast cavalcade of
fleeting moments or dreams. Whereas
the form of the Seventh is so crystallised that everyone can sense its sturdy
structure.
Alice Sara Ott
Twenty-five year old German-Japanese
pianist Alice Sara Ott has, in less
than five years, established herself as
one of the most exciting musical talents of today. Recent concerts have
seen her perform with the Munich
Philharmonic in Munich and the NHK
Symphony Orchestra in Tokyo, both
under Lorin Maazel, and on a very
successful European tour with the
Czech Philharmonic Orchestra under
Krzysztof Urbański. She has also been
heard in recital in London, Chicago,
New York, Hamburg and Berlin.
Highlights of the 2013/14 season
include
appearances
with
the Philharmonia Orchestra and
Washington’s
National
Symphony
Orchestra, and tours with the FRSO, the
Oslo Philharmonic and the Orchestre
Philharmonique de Radio France.
Recordings by Alice Sara Ott for
Deutsche Grammophon, including
music by Liszt, Chopin, Tchaikovsky
and Mussorgsky, have won numerous
awards and distinctions.
Lotta Emanuelsson
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in which year the New York Times chose
the other Lindberg disc as its Record of
the Year.
The FRSO regularly tours to all parts
of the world. During the 2013/2014 season it will be visiting Central Europe under the baton of Hannu Lintu.
All the FRSO concerts both in Finland
and abroad are broadcast, usually live,
on Yle Radio 1. They can also be heard
and watched with excellent stream quality on yle.fi/klassinen.
THE FINNISH
RADIO SYMPHONY
ORCHESTRA
The Finnish Radio Symphony Orchestra
(FRSO) is the orchestra of the Finnish
Broadcasting Company (Yle). Its mission is to produce and promote Finnish
musical culture and its Chief Conductor
as of autumn 2013 is Hannu Lintu.
The Radio Orchestra of ten players
founded in 1927 grew to symphony orchestra strength in the 1960s. Its previous Chief Conductors have been Toivo
Haapanen, Nils-Eric Fougstedt, Paavo
Berglund, Okko Kamu, Leif Segerstam,
Jukka-Pekka
Saraste
and
Sakari
Oramo. The FRSO has two Honorary
Conductors: Jukka-Pekka Saraste and
Sakari Oramo.
The latest contemporary music is
a major item in the repertoire of the
FRSO, which each year premieres a
number of Yle commissions. Another
of the orchestra’s tasks is to record all
Finnish orchestral music for the Yle archive. During the 2013/2014 season it
will premiere six Finnish works commissioned by Yle.
The FRSO has recorded works by
Eötvös, Nielsen, Hakola, Lindberg,
Saariaho, Sallinen, Kaipainen, Kokkonen
and others, and the debut disc of the
opera Aslak Hetta by Armas Launis. Its
discs have reaped some major distinctions, such as the BBC Music Magazine
Award and the Académie Charles Cros
Award. The disc of the Sibelius and
Lindberg violin concertos (Sony BMG)
with Lisa Batiashvili as the soloist received the MIDEM Classical Award in 2008,
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