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Bright
Sheng:
The Song and
Dance of Tears
Cello
Yo-Yo Ma
Pipa
Wu Man
Sheng
Wu Tong
Piano
Joel Fan
(members of the Silk Road Ensemble)
Olivier
Messiaen:
Turangalila
Symphony
Piano
Paul Crossley
Ondes
Martenot
Cynthia
Millar
London
Sinfonietta
Conductor
David Robertson
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The Royal Albert Hall
13 August 2004 |
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The
lasting impression from this
exotic Prom, apart from the
vivid sound-worlds created
in both pieces, is of the
intelligence of the programming:
the two works illuminated
one another (both in terms
of similarity and difference)
in an unusually revealing
way.
Both pieces seek to articulate
in ecstatic terms the lyrical
and energetic extremes of
existence, symbolised by the
title of Sheng's piece, receiving
its UK Premiere: tender song,
exultant dance and the closing
'Tears' section succeeded
one another without a break
in this 25 minute work.
Messiaen makes an altogether
more riotous and expansive
song and dance about the business
of existence in 'Turangalila',
10 movements filling nearly
an hour and a half. The title
(a composite of two Sanskrit
words) embodies the same duality:
according to the composer's
explanation, 'Turanga' represents
the energetic movement and
rhythm of time, whilst 'Lila'
is about the more lyrical
play of love, creation and
death.
Both pieces have a strong
concerto character: soloists
are grouped near the conductor
and set against the full orchestra,
each composer taking the opportunity
to introduce exotic colour
by means of unusual instruments.
Sheng teams piano and cello
with two Chinese instruments.
The (coincidentally-named)
sheng is a portable organ
blown by the player through
a mouthpiece and consisting
of a little tower of pipes
held on the knee, with finger
keys on each side. It has
a harmonica/accordion-like
sound and lends a folklike,
street-music tone. The pipa
is a traditional Chinese lute
with a characteristic Far-Eastern
timbre.
In 'Turangalila', ranged around
the conductor like a kind
of Western gamelan, were piano,
glockenspiel, celesta and
the pine boxes of the Ondes
Martenot, the electronic instrument
which as well as a keyboard
has a strip control allowing
for joyous whooping glissandos
and vibrato gurglings.
In this context, the solo
writing for piano is perhaps
the least successful element
in both pieces: florid cadenza-like
passages seem rooted in the
idiom of the 19th century
virtuoso concerto, and come
across as oddly conventional
and incongruous when set amongst
the glittering Eastern richness
of much of the rest of the
music (to which the piano
itself contributes when used
as a percussive accompaniment
to the other solo instruments).
It was the Eastern influence
that provided possibly the
most creative link between
the two pieces in this concert,
and emphasised the interest
of the East-West theme of
this year's Proms season.
The explicitly Chinese character
of the sonorities, harmonies
and melodies in 'Song and
Dance of Tears' lingered in
the mind and highlighted those
same elements embedded in
the orchestral texture of
'Turangalila', allowing them
to come across as never before
amid the aural dazzlement
of the piece.
The transitions and contrasts
in 'Song and Dance of Tear'
held the attention from beginning
to end. The first two sections
contained elements reminiscent
of earlier composers' styles,
but then the piece underwent
a kind of distillation, shedding
those derivative elements
and ending serenely in a style
all its own. The initial song
section saw the interplay
of the soloists above a bed
of string sound which had
some of the piquant sweetness
of Prokofiev's or Britten's
slow music, and the dance
section mounted to a climax
in an irregular 3+4 metre
recalling pounding rhythmic
music by Bartok or Stravinsky.
But then a lament for solo
cello (heartstoppingly played
by Yo-Yo Ma) took the work
into a new region, and it
ended with a long diminuendo,
the different sonorities of
the solo instruments combining
ethereally to a point of virtual
inaudibility. It was a gripping
conclusion.
'Turangalila' comes to an
utterly contrasting but equally
gripping conclusion: following
whole-hearted and full-throated
meditations on the joys and
fears and difficulties of
life, an exhilarating, dancing
crescendo is how this piece
ends, with blazing restatements
of the themes and chord sequences
which have recurred throughout
the symphony and (with sublime
silliness) wobbly electronic
shakes on the Ondes Martenot
rising though the texture
like great bubbles of laughing
gas.
The performance by an enlarged
London Sinfonietta under David
Robertson was very good. Robertson's
rapport with pianist Paul
Crossley was signalised by
the exchange of lots of grins.
It is possible to play the
piece with a few more degrees
of abandon, virtuosity and
sonic splendour (e.g. the
orgiastic romp of the 5th
movement, Joy of the Blood
of the Stars) - but maybe
the Albert Hall acoustic made
a slightly more measured approach
necessary. Nevertheless this
brought its own benefits in
terms of the structure of
the symphony and the sense
that this is much more than
an orchestral showpiece: 'Turangalila'
played with integrity and
skill, as here, is overwhelming
spiritually as well as aurally.
Its exuberant joys seem hard-won,
and were all the more convincing
for that. Its culminating
message - ultimate enlightenment
is great fun - is a thoroughly
intoxicating one, and Messiaen
and these performers took
the audience well beyond the
limit.
Nicholas Armstrong
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