TRIUMPHANT HAYDN MASS DESPITE DODGY DECISIONS

CBSO at Symphony Hall ★★★★
Sir Stephen Hough is a man of many talents: painter, poet, novelist, and author of books on music, religion and perfume, while still finding time to be a world-acclaimed pianist and a respected composer. Perhaps his biggest challenge was one made to him by the conductor Omer Meir Wellber's project, inviting composers to reimagine a classical work of their choice. Hough chose Beethoven's Piano Concerto No.3 in C minor, which he performed here with his own version of the second movement, possibly an act of musical hubris destined for an embarrassing fall. Hough was aware of the difficulties, "should I write something in his style? I felt it would have been pointless to write faux-Beethoven for this project, but I did want to use some of his original material as a starting point." The movement started intriguingly with a hushed wind chorale soon joined by other instruments with Hough ruminating moodily in a style once dubbed "wrong-note romanticism". Hough's catalogue of of piano recordings is wide-ranging and I kept hearing passages that reminded me of Hough's Chopin and Mompou, delicately nocturnal, an astringent smidgin of Schoenberg and, in the declamatory section justifying the 'Con gran espression' sobriquet, the spirit of Rachmaninov. There was also an ear-tickling Beethoven quotation played, Eric Morecambe style, with "all the right notes but not necessarily in the right order", and Hough engineered a clever segue into Beethoven's original third movement. An interesting experiment I thought but not one I'd want to return to often. The echt-Beethoven movements were fine as one would expect with Hough scrupulous and judicious in phrasing, happy to linger momentarily at an incidental shimmering beauty but driving on energetically for an exciting climax. He was helped by Wellber's decision to use a small string section - how good to hear the crucial bassoon interjections so clearly - and  with the violins divided left and right which allowed the finale's passages of canonic imitation into focus. Perhaps the joy and delight of that final movement's homecoming had been increased by Hough's excursion to more distant musical shores.
We should thank Wellber for his advocacy of Haydn's music - the most overlooked of the great composers - and the performance of the 'Nelson Mass' was a triumph. Haydn had the chorus sing in all six movements and the CBSO Chorus, under Chorus Master David Young, fulfilled all the composer's demands. The work's original title was 'Missa in Angustiis' ('Mass for Troubled Times') composed in 1798 when Europe was being ravaged by the Napoleonic Wars. The Nelson nickname came after the Admiral defeated Napoleon's fleet at the Battle of the Nile. While some of the music is suitably dark hued and ominous, the chorus hushed and trepidatious, Haydn's exuberance and optimism is always under the surface ready to burst into life and the CBSO Chorus responded with vigour and power. The final Agnus Dei movement made a satisfying musical and emotional journey from humble prayer to an exuberant expression of faith and hope. Wellber did make a couple of dubious musical decisions. The war had wrecked Austria's economy, including that of Haydn's patron Prince Esterhazy, who had dismissed his orchestra's wind section to cut costs. Haydn made a virtue of necessity and, with an orchestra of organ, strings, timpani and three trumpets, fashioned a work of dark and dramatic shades. That sharply limned profile was softened and cushioned by Wellber's decision to use an arrangement which added a full wind section which was not to the work's advantage. Instead of organ we had Wellber directing from the fortepiano which, in his programme notes, he wrote, "I find this one of the best ways  to communicate and have fun on stage". Fun he certainly had, bouncing up and down on the piano stool, hurling himself from side to side and throwing out his right leg until it was horizontal like a classical Jerry Lee Lewis. I fail to see how the music benefited from his self-indulgent display and, apart from a few notes, the instrument was inaudible. No reservations about the solo singing though. Haydn used a quartet of soloists but gave only supporting roles to the mezzo-soprano (Georgia Mae Ellis) and tenor (Luis Gome) who did all that was required, but Haydn gave the soprano and bass the majority of the music and a chance to shine.  American soprano Lauren Urquhart's soaring high notes and passages of coloratura, every note articulated clearly, were a delight to hear from the start of the opening Kyrie to the Agnus Die. Her fresh, almost soubrette tones brought a simple sincerity to her singing of the joyous Et resurrexit backed by the exuberant CBSO Chorus. The young Austrian bass-baritone Alexander Grassauer was a commanding voice and presence for the Qui tollis and the four singers combined well when required.
Norman Stinchcombe