RSNO / Widmann / Eberle
Glasgow Royal Concert Hall
If any single memory is destined to linger from this RSNO programme it will surely be Jörg Widmann’s extraordinary cadenzas for Beethoven’s Violin Concerto. To say the composer/conductor has gone full tonto in his mission to subvert the stylistic equilibrium of such a substantial Classical masterpiece is no exaggeration.
Nor is that necessarily a criticism, given that for every listener addled by Widmann’s dissonant anarchy, manic deviation, eccentric theatre and unharnessed prolixity, there were undoubtedly others intoxicated by the sheer bravado of his off-the-wall confections, not least the time-travelling transitions that bridge Beethoven’s 18th century to Widmann’s 21st.
Widmann wrote the cadenzas during Covid for the German violinist Veronika Eberle, who subsequently performed and recorded her novel version of the concerto with Simon Rattle and the LSO. She was, once again, the protagonist on Saturday, this time with Widmann on the podium and an RSNO eager to champion such a mind-bending curiosity.
It began as Beethoven intended, the opening timpani strokes presenting an enticing challenge for an orchestra whose strings were pared down to classical proportions, thus enabling the woodwind to explore infinite subtleties. Eberle’s playing was similarly clean, an unaffected precision that lent lyrical purity and finesse to the musical discourse. So far so good.
Yet even in these moments there was a sense that she and Widmann were not always on the same wavelength. Whereas Eberle seemed intent on pushing the momentum onwards, Widmann favoured a more mannered approach, holding tempi back and creating repetitive hiatuses through his tendency to overextend silences. The habit became irksome and led to audible uncertainties in attack. The ultimate outcome was one of the longest Beethoven Violin Concerto performances I’ve heard in a long time.
The extensive cadenzas didn’t help. Sure, they were entertaining as well as radical. That of the opening movement – the soloist joined by timpani and double bass – hurtled us into a world of weird pizzicatos, crepuscular ponticellos, violent incursions, even stabs at jazz, before winding ingeniously back to Beethoven. In the slow movement Eberle left us gasping with a moment of fantasy that soared to unimaginable heights before connecting tortuously, but magically, with the finale. For the final movement cadenza, Widmann went for bust with an explosion of pastiche and parody that had the soloists foot-stamping, bassist Nikita Naumov now in full jazz mode. All good fun, but a sense that Beethoven was being taken for a ride, at times going AWOL.
In light of all that, an encore might have proved too much had it not been such a snappy, pizzicato caprice for which Eberle enlisted the expert duo partnership of RSNO leader Maya Iwabuchi.
The second half opened with one of Widmann’s own short works, Con brio. It also revelled in Beethoven connections, using the latter’s themes to create something between a skit and a serious attempt, as the composer himself puts it, “to combine tradition with innovation”. The same musical psychedelia as the earlier cadenzas applied – a sea of cacophonous explosions, rapid cartoonesque mania, amorphous clusters and hard-edged quotes – yet this time with a self-contained purpose.
The programme ended with Mendelssohn’s Reformation Symphony, interesting in the sense that Widmann heavily inflicted his own personality on its tempi, shadings and rhetoric. Where that offered rare insights into the innermost details of the scoring – the contrapuntal writing was strikingly revealing – the momentum of the performance was frequently stalled by overindulgence. As with the Beethoven concerto, this was more about Widmann than Mendelssohn.
Ken Walton
(Picture credit: RSNO/Clara Cohen)
