BY BEN NIELSEN
Sydney Philharmonia Choir, Festival Chorus and Sydney Youth Orchestra conducted by Brett Weymark
Belshazzar’s Feast by Walton, It is Better to be Feared than Loved (world premiere) by Hindson, Prince Igor: Polovtsian Dances by Borodin
Concert Hall, Sydney Opera House, 8 October 2014
Everyone knows that recognisable theme from Borodin’s Polovtsian Dances. It’s imposing, triumphant, haunting. Performed on Wednesday and Thursday by the joint Sydney Philharmonia and Festival Choirs and Sydney Philharmonia and Youth Orchestras, the audience clinged gratefully to the familiar Russian tune amidst the work’s lesser-known body. Even in this isolated context, the Dances still managed to evoke the full gravitas of Prince Igor Syvatoslavich’s campaign against the invading Polovtsian tribes – as told in Borodin’s opera, Prince Igor.
After Borodin’s sudden death in 1887, fellow composers Rimsky-Korsakov and Glazunov posthumously completed his abandoned scores, a version that has since been favoured for concert-style performances. Despite his death, Prince Igor is considered to be one of Borodin’s most significant contributions to the musical catalogue.
The ensemble gave a fine performance, cheated only by a visible lack of self-assurance. Perhaps if the players were more confident in displaying an enthusiastic response to the audience’s applause, attention would not have been drawn to the minute points of improvement, such as rhythm from the flutes during the concluding moments of the work.
While the main thematic pageantry was occasionally accompanied by more delicate passages, Borodin’s work is surprisingly harrowing. There was little aural relief for the audience, with the program moving to the similarly turbulent It Is Better To Be Feared Than Loved. This piece was commissioned by members of the Festival Chorus from Matthew Hindson, who is best known for his residency with the Sydney Symphony Orchestra and collaboration with the Sydney Dance Company.
Hindson’s piece is founded on several distinct rhythmic motives, which are passed throughout the orchestra and choir. This sense of driving syncopation and irregular meter are just two of several nuances that provide colour amidst a continuous wall of sound. The way Hindson utilises the orchestra creates a huge musical force, but even still, his setting of Machiavelli’s text seems simplistic and superficial. This is one of the Italian writer’s most famous statements, and yet the syllable-based passages and practically monophonic texture of the choir does not serve it justice.
The shortcomings of Hindson’s work were made even more apparent after the interval with the performance of Belshazzar’s Feast. Walton’s Feast (commissioned by the BBC, and first performed in 1931) tells the tale of the hedonistic Babylonian king, his acts of sacrilege, and eventual overthrow. The composition borrows text from the Bible, as selected by English writer Osbert Sitwell.
This is a richly orchestrated and mature choral interpretation – an almost visual recount of the plight of the oppressed Jewish people. In fact, the musical spectacle did not just appeal to the ears and eyes, but also the body. With a nearly-300 voice choir, combined orchestra and auxiliary brass (who performed some tricky, exposed motives with great ease), the work literally resonated within the audience. Victorian baritone Peter Coleman-Wright (who recorded the work with the London Symphony Orchestra in 2011) was a perfectly snarling Belshazzar.
Emotionally draining though this program was, the audience left the Concert Hall with the realisation of an orchestra’s full ability. What a disappointment, though, that the musicians played to a half-empty house.
Image supplied. Credit: Keith Saunders.
