Prom 56: Kirill Petrenko conducts the Berlin Philharmoniker – Bruckner 5

Anton Bruckner
Os justi
Locus iste
Christus factus est
Symphony No. 5 in B flat

BBC Singers

Owain Park
conductor

Berliner Philharmoniker

Kirill Petrenko
conductor

It’s often remarked that there are echoes of Bruckner’s sacred a cappella motets in his Symphonies – those soaring ‘cathedrals of sound’ – in some of their chordal sequences (one of those compositions in this Prom, Christus factus est, even shares a motif with the Seventh). But it’s very rare (or never) that the two aspects of the composer’s art are juxtaposed in the same concert, as on this occasion – the first of two Proms in the week that marks the bicentenary of Bruckner’s birth.

With barely a break between the motets presented here, they formed almost a little, three-movement choral symphony of their own, with the 18-strong BBC Singers under Owain Park’s direction. Those small numbers couldn’t achieve the blazing edifices of sound in the Albert Hall that a full symphony orchestra would, and only in the last of the set, Christus factus est, was a dramatic array of dynamics essayed (though without pregnant pauses to mark off its sections). Os justi formed a contemplative, if not mystical or ecstatic, opening; Locus iste was flowing and tender.

The basic tempo of each of the Fifth Symphony’s four movements was relatively brisk in Kirill Petrenko’s hands with the Berliner Philharmoniker. But underlying that were some notable shifts in pace and mood along the way, and dramatic tension largely arose more from those contrasts, rather than from an overall long-term vision of the work perhaps, despite wonderful, seamless timbre from the orchestra throughout. A soft and mysterious introduction on strings with no vibrato gave way to a sudden explosion on the first tutti and an energetic first climax which then injected momentum in the first principal theme. But that didn’t quite carry across the whole movement, where the widely contrasting sections didn’t always feel as though they followed naturally, and so the movement lost its way. An impulsive speeding up in other sections didn’t solve that problem in terms of coherence in the total structure (though it’s true that the pauses are more difficult to mould in this Symphony than in most of Bruckner’s other symphonic movements). 

The Adagio took off with a pizzicato prelude which was more present than the gentle throb gasping into life at the beginning of the first movement, and that sustained the overall pace better, with an expressive oboe theme, a warm second subject by the strings, and emphatic brass chords near the end in the striking descents by sevenths. The Scherzo began feverishly, leading to a robust swagger for its principal Ländler-like theme – Petrenko enjoying its lilt with the antiphonal violins, given earthy good humour by powerful lower strings and timpani; the Trio sounded more spontaneous. 

The colossal contrapuntal working out of the Finale’s various sections fared better in their course than the first movement’s, delivered with a certain capriciousness and irony, even outright jest, as the thick, rotund presentation of the first fugal theme by the cellos and double basses seemed almost a parody after the sarcastic interjections by the clarinet. The full fugue later was theatrically articulated, each instrumental entry as though an independent character in some comical, blustering conversation. But following that approach with a conventionally grand, searing climax was problematic, as it didn’t feel earned as the sublimed summation of all that had gone before. It was as though this interpretation wanted to have its monumental Brucknerian cake and eat it.