Mutter reaches beyond music to stir the ghosts of her past
Anne-sophie Mutter and the Royal Scottish National Orchestra Usher Hall, Edinburgh
The Royal Scottish National Orchestra appeared to have pulled off quite a coup by securing the services of two of the world’s most eminent musicians for a single concert: the German violinist Anne-sophie Mutter and the Polish composer/conductor Krzysztof Penderecki. In the end, however, for undisclosed “personal reasons”, Penderecki couldn’t make it for what had been billed as a celebration of his 85th birthday. Well, as the 55-year-old Mutter quipped in an entertaining pre-concert interview, when you get past 50, you do tend to have off days.
Penderecki’s stand-in on the podium was, in fact, hardly a stand-in at all. Thomas Søndergård is the RSNO’S new Music Director, formalising his relationship with the orchestra after six years as Principal Guest Conductor. He clearly relished this opportunity to share the evening with such starry company.
Despite Penderecki’s absence, the advertised programme stayed the same. It was a bold decision for Mutter to show off her skills in the 40 minutes of uncompromisingly bleak introspection that make up Penderecki’s Second Violin Concerto,
Metamorphosen. Unapologetically demanding on soloist, orchestra and listeners, it proved a rewarding, deeply cathartic experience for all involved.
Mutter clearly knows the dark, troubled Concerto inside out; Penderecki wrote it for her in 1995 and she premiered it while her first husband, Detlef Wunderlich, was dying of cancer. Though it has its passages of flashy fireworks, it’s not an overly showy work, and Mutter played it as though reaching beyond the music to its underlying narrative: from the assertive heartbeats of its opening to the lamenting chorales slowly fading at its close.
Hers was a big-boned, confident account – distinguished by unshakeable self-belief – of what’s actually quite an episodic work. The Concerto’s restrained apotheosis, following a fearsomely fiery cadenza from Mutter, made for compelling listening, with its elusive tonalities and seemingly inexorable journey to silence. The violinist delivered it with touching restraint and nobility.
Søndergård and the RSNO could hardly be expected to match Mutter’s deep personal knowledge of the Concerto, and there were moments where the ensemble went slightly awry, or where she pushed them on to greater urgency. But they gave a splendidly detailed, spirited account none the less, and one of utter conviction. It’s only a shame that Mutter’s encore – a breathless, breakneck Gigue from Bach’s D minor Partita, driven rather than dancing – left a perplexingly sour taste in the mouth.
Søndergård’s sense of telling detail was back on display after the interval in a very fine Tchaikovsky Fifth Symphony, as strongly defined and expertly articulated as one could have hoped. The conductor’s fastidious phrasing felt natural and inevitable throughout. His clear-headed dissection of the Symphony’s constituent parts showed, paradoxically, how little there actually is to it – but how glorious Tchaikovsky’s invention is, all the same.
Søndergård’s slow movement was buoyant, brisk, even impetuous, with a fine horn solo from RSNO principal Christopher Gough, and there was terrific bounce and swagger to the closing perorations. An admirable warmth and trust has clearly developed between Søndergård and the RSNO players. His enthusiasm to lead the orchestra into more challenging, unfamiliar repertoire – even when serving as a stand-in – is further cause for applause.