Tag: Benjamin Britten

Thursday November 21, 2013 – The New York Philharmonic‘s celebration of the 100th anniversary of the birth of Benjamin Britten was a lovely fête which brought forth the composer’s familiar Serenade for Tenor, Horn and Strings and the less-frequently-performed Spring Symphony.

The performance took on added drama when the scheduled tenor was forced to withdraw for health reasons literally on the eve of the concert. This caused the Philharmonic to launch a desparate search for tenors who could 1) sing this demanding music and 2) were available on such short notice. Things turned out very well indeed, with a disarmingly attractive performance of the Serenade by Michael Slattery and a thoroughly impressive rendering of the Spring Symphony by Dominic Armstrong who, as Maestro Alan Gilbert told us, had never so much as looked at the score til the morning of the performance.

The richly emotional Serenade for Tenor, Horn and Strings opens and closes with solo passages for horn which are played without use of the valves that stabilize pitch. The instrument is difficult enough to play as it is – I know: I played horn in high school – but Britten throws in this extra complication to render the sound with a ‘hunting horn’ ambiance. Thus the Philharmonic’s formidable principal horn, Philip Myers, appeared onstage with two horns – one for the Prologue and Epilogue, and the second ‘normal’ horn for the remaining movements of the work.

Britten sets the Serenade’s poems, which span five centuries of English verse, in the upper range of the tenor voice; this gives the music an air of rather eerie innocence, yet the singer must also show great maturity in terms of both technique and sensitivity to the texts. The vocal movements are: “Pastoral” (with text by Charles Cotton), a hymn to sunset which sounds like a lilting lullabye; “Nocturne” (to words by Alfred, Lord Tennyson), where the horn calls echo as evening falls over the land; William Blake’s “Elegy”, which addresses a dying rose and is tinged with plaintive melancholy. In the Serenade‘s most unsettling passage, to an anonymous 15th-century text, the “Dirge” is a fugue of relentless, creeping madness evoking the fires of Hell which will ‘burn thee to the bare bone…and Christ receive thy soul’ (this song haunts me for days everafter whenever I hear it). In sharp contrast, Ben Jonson’s “Hymn” is light-hearted and upbeat, bringing the singer’s task to an ‘excellently bright’ conclusion. As the voice falls silent, the offstage horn closes the Serenade on a benedictive note.

I had heard tenor Michael Slattery (above) often during his time at Juilliard, and was pleased to be present at his impromptu Philharmonic debut tonight. Slender and boyish in his elegant tux, Michael took the high tessitura in stride, with many felicitous passages of vocal color and inflection: his diction was clear and touchingly expressive. Philip Myers played with gleaming, burnished tone and exceptional power in the phrases that serve as a counter-poise to the voice. Maestro Gilbert drew evocative playing from the string ensemble, and the entire performance had a nocturnal incandescence that was truly pleasing. Michael Slattery reacted with disarming sincerity to the audience’s warm applause, being called out with Mr. Myers and the conductor for extra bows.

The Spring Symphony was commissioned by the Koussevitzky Music Foundation and is dedicated to Serge Koussevitzky and the Boston Symphony Orchestra though it was actually premiered at the Conncertgebouw in Amsterdam during July 1949 before its American premiere the following month at Tanglewood by Koussevitzky and the BSO. Britten calls for a huge orchestra, adult and children’s choruses, and three vocal soloists. The score is dazzling in its range of instrumental colours and textures, and the texts include both hymns of praise to the coming of Spring and some charming moments of levity in depicting day-to-day happenings. This work is quintessentially British: the poems invoke English pastoral imagery and the deftly ‘sudden’ ending – “And now, my friends, I cease” – is punctuated by a  plump C-major chord.

Maestro Gilbert marshalled his forces for a thoroughly impressive and enjoyable performance: a special “hurrah” for the Brooklyn Youth Chorus who are called upon to both sing and whistle. The ‘save the day’ performance by tenor Dominic Armstrong revealed an attractive voice with mastery of dynamics and colours as well as of textual incisiveness that belied his unfamiliarity with the work. The slender and very pretty soprano Kate Royal has a feather-light lyric soprano and sang charmingly while the distinctive voice of Sasha Cooke – heard only two days earlier at Chamber Music Society – stood out for glowing tone and poetic resonance.

This was my first time experiencing the Spring Symphony – I’d never even heard it on a recording – and it was a very good idea of Maetro Gilbert’s to choose it as a birthday salutation for the composer, for it is not often performed.

I must register one tiny complaint – nothing to do with the music or the musicians – but I do wish that plastic water bottles could be banned from the concert stages. In the ‘old days’ small tables were set next to the soloists’ chairs with glasses of water which the singers could sip decorously between numbers. Now we have a distracting ritual of bending over, uncapping the bottle and gulping away like basketball players on the bench. The ‘old way’ of hydrating is much more elegant, and far less conspicuous.