Scottish Chamber Orchestra

23 Jul 2012 in Highland, Music

Spa Pavilion, Strathpeffer, 20 July 2012

MORE than a couple of decades ago, a critic whose name escapes me commented on the Scottish Chamber Orchestra that “there is no finer Mozart orchestra this side of Vienna,” and that quote came to mind as the members of the orchestra took their seats last Friday evening in the Spa Pavilion in Strathpeffer.

THE thought was prompted by a fellow member of the audience asking me how many of the old SCO were still in the ranks, and a look at the orchestra list revealing fewer than ten of the 1987 players. So no pressure then to maintain the reputation!

Nicholas McGegan (photo Randy Beach)

Nicholas McGegan (photo Randy Beach)

Players come and players go, as do leaders and conductors, but the sound of the SCO remains distinctively superb, and never more so than when performing music from the late 18th century, a sound polished to perfection by a long association with the late Sir Charles Mackerras.

So the promise of a feast was fulfilled by a programme of Mozart, Haydn and Cimarosa conducted by Nicholas McGegan, no stranger to the SCO and hailed as “one of the finest baroque conductors of his generation” and “an expert in eighteenth century style,” with a guest leader Jan Bjøranger who is renowned for his affinity for ensembles as well as being professor of strings at the University of Stavanger. Was he being trialled to take over from Chris George?

There is no better opening to a concert than Mozart’s overture to The Marriage of Figaro, short and sweet, full of bustle to give the audience the feel of the Almaviva household and managed beautifully by McGegan and the SCO. A perfect start.

The guest artist for this 34th Highland Tour by the orchestra was the fast rising baritone William Berger, who is shortly to go into the recording studio with McGegan and the SCO to make an album of 18th century operatic arias. The two Haydn arias chosen for the “warm up” in Strathpeffer, ‘Il pensier sta negli oggetti’ from L’anima del filosofo, Haydn’s last opera, and ‘Chi nel cam min d’onore’ from L’isola disabitata. Berger’s warm voice was well suited to both arias, especially in the second, but earlier work that asked for slightly more emotion and performance.

Haydn’s G major Symphony, No 88, showed a departure from his earlier style of composing for the sophisticated audience of the Esterhazy court. Written in 1787, it was aimed at the public audience in pre-revolutionary Paris, opening with a short adagio before segueing into an allegro bursting with energy. By contrast, the second movement, a largo, was a sweet and gentle air dominated by a solo oboe with occasional bursts from the timpani and the SCO’s natural trumpets.

The menuetto was in the form of a rustic dance, even down to the simulated bagpipes, sure to be well received by a paying public but certainly not something that would be acceptable in a princely court. The finale, an allegro con spirito, was an oft repeated tune that was carefully woven between the various instruments of the orchestra, bringing the symphony to a rumbustious conclusion.

In the last years of the 18th century Domenico Cimarosa was somewhat overshadowed by Haydn and Mozart. These days he is best remembered for The Secret Marriage, hailed as another Figaro and recently performed by Scottish Opera to great acclaim; however, this is but one of more than eighty operas or cantatas, mostly humorous, for which he was responsible.

Il Maestro di Cappella is something of a party piece for orchestra and baritone, having a bit of fun at the expense of a pompous music director as the orchestra shows that they can play just as well, maybe, without a conductor. William Berger characterised the director delightfully, the SCO had a great time playing all the right notes, but not necessarily in the right order, and Nicolas McGegan joined in by being thrust from his podium to allow Il Maestro di Cappella to receive all the applause.

Mozart-lite it may have been, but it is a piece that benefits from an occasional outing in the hands of an accomplished baritone buffo such as William Berger and is an ideal element in a programme for first-time concert goers or for audiences who do not like their classical music too stuffy, such as the paying Parisian public at which Haydn aimed his G major symphony or Mozart’s Symphony No 31, which ended the concert, and was also inspired by the late 18th century public of the French capital. It is three movements of Mozart at his melodic finest, showing his mastery of orchestration and delivered by an ensemble of still the finest Mozart players this side of Vienna.

As the audience stood outside chatting after the concert in what was probably the first summer’s evening for several weeks, I had the chance to have a few words with Nicolas McGegan, especially about the Spa Pavilion and how it had been rescued from dereliction. He was effusive in his praise for the building, saying, “What a gem of a venue! And what a lovely audience. Thank goodness it has been saved; if anything were to happen to it a lot of musicians would be very disappointed.”

© James Munro, 2012

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