Simon Rattle at the Philharmonie de Paris in Schumann and Stravinsky

Schumann
Symphony No. 2 in C major, Op. 61

Stravinsky
L’Oiseau de feu, conte dansé en deux tableaux

Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra
Sir Simon Rattle

It’s surely not often we encounter Schumann and Stravinsky in the same concert. Strange bed fellows perhaps, but Sir Simon Rattle clearly believed in the pairing as the composers formed one of two programmes presented during his recent European tour with the Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra. I caught up with the Munich-based orchestra in the fourth leg of their 10-city traversal at the Philharmonie de Paris after performances in Liverpool, Birmingham and London, where at the Barbican they coupled Janáček’s Taras Bulba with Bruckner’s Seventh Symphony.

Schumann’s Second Symphony (the third in chronological order) has had its fair share of doubters, but this compelling performance swept aside Mosco Carner’s accusations of ‘mediocre thematic invention’. Conducting from memory, Rattle shaped the first movement with meticulous care, generating a stately opening paragraph, nothing too ponderous here, that gave way to a forthright and rhythmically taut main Allegro, brought to life by an unceasing momentum. A rigorously observed ma non troppo marking avoided any pre-empting of the Scherzo’s exhilaration (a Beethovenian movement filtered through Mendelssohn), where the strings of the BRSO were at their finest, combining discipline and a will-o’-the-wisp manner. Tempo changes were negotiated deftly with woodwind making their own distinctive contributions in its two Trio sections. Silky string playing and Stefaan Schilli’s gratifying oboe coloured the Adagio, along with an eerily quiet string fugato infused with an almost hallucinogenic quality. Earlier echoes of J.S. Bach resounded unambiguously in the triumphant finale, its life-affirming traversal surely silencing any naysayers of this youthfully ardent work.

Stravinsky’s original 1910 ballet score, L’Oiseau de feu, once prompted the assertion that it was the finest work Rimsky-Korsakov never wrote. It’s three suites (1911, 1919 and 1945) have ensured its continued presence in the concert hall, even if the original, as performed here, was an ambitious choice for an orchestra on tour, especially one fielding a hundred musicians. The platform was awash with a full complement of strings (some sixty players with antiphonal violins), offstage brass (trumpets high up in the galleries), triple woodwinds and a percussion section with three harps, piano and celesta.

Notwithstanding these generous forces, Rattle fashioned a detailed account (again from memory) variously conjuring mystery (the Introduction), fantasy (Kashchey’s Enchanted Garden), sensuousness (the apparition of the 13 princesses) and exquisite tenderness in the Berceuse with a wonderfully doleful bassoon. The infernal dance was suitably diabolic and floor-shaking in its intensity, and grandeur arrived in the work’s ‘Apotheosis’. It’s a score that needs some degree of coaxing where linking sections don’t come across as ‘fills’. Rattle’s sweeping account mostly avoided any longueurs (not present in the Suites) with a sustained traversal held together by a unwavering sense of line and an acute ear for timbre. No less impressive was his way of invigorating players without any excessive gestures, often communicating with a smile or raised eyebrow. In short, a performance revealing a remarkable bond between conductor and orchestra.