Majestic Norrington bows out with a mix of wit and style
Royal Northern
Sinfonia/Norrington
Sage Gateshead
The last appearance on the conductor’s podium of the 87-year-old Roger Norrington might have been an occasion for melancholy. For more than half a century, he’s been an inspiring figure on the classical music scene, delving into forgotten performing traditions, scraping the grime of centuries off music from Monteverdi to Bruckner. For lovers of classical music, it will be like losing an old friend.
But Norrington doesn’t do melancholy, a fact he made abundantly clear by devoting his last ever concert to the most cheerful of the great composers, Joseph Haydn. It was a wonderfully generous evening of music connected to Haydn’s two London visits in the 1790s, by which time he was an international celebrity.
In the spirit of that age, the concert was a miscellany, with two of Haydn’s great “London” symphonies mingled with songs and one of his final string quartets. You felt that the ripe goodhumour of the elderly Viennese composer was perfectly matched by that of the conductor. And both were honoured by the Royal Northern Sinfonia, who played their hearts out.
It has to be said Norrington’s humour doesn’t tickle everybody. “Outrageous self-indulgence!” fumed one patron as he stormed out at the end. I imagine he was annoyed by the way Norrington glances roguishly at the audience at especially witty moments, or his way of spinning round on his conductor’s stool with an “Owzat?” gesture at the end of every movement.
However, the concert wasn’t just a parade of his so-called “period performance” mannerisms such as pert, airy phrasing, a pungent, sharp orchestral sound with no gloss (clattering kettle-drums to the fore), and a brisk, dancing feel. There were plenty of those things, to be sure, and sometimes the speeds were amazingly fast, as in the “ticking clock” movement of Symphony no 101. But the grand, spacious introductions were genuinely grand, and the minuets stately – though Norrington is aware of the visionary, almost Romantic moments hidden inside the good humour, and made sure we noticed them too.
Interspersed with the symphonies were eight of Haydn’s English songs or “canzonettas” performed with a welcome tender sentiment by soprano Susan Gritton, with Steven Devine playing the “authentic”, delicate-sounding fortepiano. Even more striking was Haydn’s late D major string quartet, rendered with beautiful wit and style by the orchestra’s principal players.
But really this was Norrington’s evening. He may be one of the great (if controversial) scholar-performers, but in the end what makes him treasurable isn’t his book-learning; it’s his generosity and irrepressible curiosity, qualities that aren’t going to desert him. Sir Roger may be headed for well-earned retirement, but I suspect we haven’t heard the last of him.