THE RITE OF SPRING
I’ve said it before and I will say it again – we are so lucky here to have part time orchestras as good as the Cambridge Phil or the City of Cambridge Symphony Orchestra (CCSO). The latter came audibly blazing on to the West Road stage with three incredibly challenging works. Under the fluid and energetic baton of Robert Hodge (casually dressed in black) the evening kicked off with a rarity. The Polish composer Grazyna Bacewicz is little known here but on the evidence of the opening piece, ‘Overture’, we should all be scrambling for the CD catalogues (or 21st century equivalents). Written during the war in Nazi occupied Krakow, the lively piece crackles with life, restless energy, militaristic menace but even a dose of humour. Straight off, the CCSO sounded like they’d be playing her work for years. The strings were beautifully together which augured well for the programme to come.
Next up was Brahms’ mighty first piano concerto. The soloist was the young, nay boyish Russian, Alexander Doronin. Slight of build, hair in floppy Chopin mode but with hands seemingly made of Kryptonite. The first movement of the Brahms is more like a symphony than concerto with a long tantalising intro before the piano enters. Doronin immediately set the tone for a muscular reading of this dramatic but often beautiful piece. The dreamy slow movement with its rich romantic themes were mesmerising. The Mozartian finale light as a feather. This is a concerto that has everything and the CCSO gave it all they got.
You might think that after such a heavyweight piece, the second half would be a fluffy dessert. No. The band expanded for a gargantuan reading of Stravinsky’s 1913 modernist masterpiece, The Rite of Spring. Hodge should be awarded some kind of medal for keeping his orchestra in perfect time for this incredibly complex, rhythmically challenging, ear-splitting assault on the senses. The orchestra did itself proud with a huge brass section perfectly in synch, a percussion section that at times nearly burst my eardrums. They successfully conjured up Stravinsky’s magical sound world with its echoes of mysterious paganism and savage dances of death. It was a thrilling conclusion to a spine tingling evening. Lucky us.
