& MAHLER’S FIFTH
Yong Siew Toh Conservatory Orchestra
Esplanade Concert Hall
17 April 2014)
This review was published in The Straits Times on 19 April 2014 with the title "Young orchestra sets stage ablaze".
Two popular works, a million-dollar-trio and low-priced tickets were what completely sold out a concert by the Conservatory Orchestra on the eve of a public holiday. The sense of occasion was also heightened when the music began some forty minutes late, due to the stringent security checks leading to the appearance by no less than the Prime Minister himself.
Beethoven wrote no cello concerto, and so his Triple Concerto in C major (Op.56), for violin, cello and piano (the quintessential piano trio), is the closest thing to comes to one. So it was no accident that cellist Qin Li-Wei was positioned right smack in the centre on the forestage, with both the piano and conductor displaced right of centre.
The first solo entry naturally fell to Qin, whose statement was clear in voice and intent. He would be the leader, while violinist Qian Zhou his consort, offering countermelodies and an intricate veil of harmony. Their chemistry, as previously demonstrated in Brahms’s Double Concerto, was immediate and palpable, with the duo casting frequent glances at each other as the music rolled on.
The orchestra led by Jason Lai and Albert Tiu’s piano provided more than textural and rhythmic support in the engaging 35-minute-long work. True to form in this taut and highly-strung performance, there were several heart-stopping moments involving the pianist.
There was a flub early in the first movement, quickly corrected, and deep into the Polonaise-influenced finale, one of Tiu’s high G strings snapped on sudden impact. All this made for an eventful outing, which also witnessed arch-lyricism in the all-too-short slow movement and a going-for-broke with all guns blazing in the coda.
Mahler’s Fifth Symphony provided an outright demo for the young orchestra’s breadth and depth of ensemble playing and solo prowess. Wang Jingyuan’s opening trumpet solo was more confident than pristine but rightly set the mood for the first movement’s funeral march. The pacing was well-judged by conductor Lai, stately but not too ponderous, which made the second movement’s violent upheavals all the more acutely felt.
French horn principal Tan Chai Suang literally stood out in the Scherzo, where her whooping solo entries were delivered with an outsized bravura and imperious sweep. Alongside her, the entire horn section of seven shone in this paradox of a movement which also incorporated a gentle Austrian country-dance within its rollicking pages.
The famous Adagietto, scored for only strings and harp, was beautifully delivered. Played without sentimentality and pathos seemed the right path to take, and one does not need to be reminded of dead dignitaries or expiring in
Venice. The music is too good for that kind of
narrowness of interpretation.
The finale, based on a satirical Mahler song about a singing contest between a cuckoo and nightingale, saw all stops being pulled. The solo entries to begin were all excellent, and soon the competing counterpoint converged into a log jam of overflowing ideas. Trust Lai and his charges to unravel these with a coherence and clarity that was staggering.
At high speed, the hectic but triumphant finale no longer seemed implausible but a reality. The well-behaved (no misplaced clapping between movements) and appreciative audience seemed to whole-heartedly agree.