A Sibelius evening that defied expectations, delivered by Osmo Vänskä's masterful baton. In a program that ranged from frosty mythologies to the gnomic utterances of Shostakovich's final symphony, the Finnish conductor drew out the composer's groundbreaking qualities in both familiar and lesser-known works.
In the Karelia Suite, for instance, Vänskä coaxed an unorthodox harmony out of the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra, tempering warmth with folk-inflected pungency. Conversely, intricate counterpoint that often goes unnoticed was revealed to great effect, particularly in outer movements where the orchestra's string section proved more than equal to the challenge.
Sibelius's occasional forays into vocal music also yielded dividends, as soprano Helena Juntunen's performances in several of the composer's most celebrated songs left little room for doubt. Her dramatic commitment was absolute, throwing herself wholeheartedly into each character study. Baron Magnus, a ballad with an unusually upbeat conclusion, stood out, thanks to Juntunen's evocative and expressive singing.
Vänskä also brought a compelling narrative drive to the tone poem Luonnotar, rooted in the Kalevala, Finland's national epic. This innovative masterpiece from 1913 continues to defy interpretation, yet Vänskä seemed fully attuned to its weird brilliance. He coaxed an air of mysticism and cosmic scope from the music, a sense of creation that felt both thrilling and unsettling.
Shostakovich's enigmatic final symphony proved a worthy foil to Sibelius, with Vänskä adopting a brisk, mischievous approach to the first half. Here, he revelled in the symphony's neurotic tics and percussive textures, coaxing an almost frantic energy from the orchestra. Conversely, in the slower movements, Vänskä calmed the music down, allowing diaphanous textures and a sustained tension to create a haunting, Chekhovian ache. In the end, it was as if the music itself was gasping for air, its dying breath a mixture of sorrow and mockery.
In the Karelia Suite, for instance, Vänskä coaxed an unorthodox harmony out of the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra, tempering warmth with folk-inflected pungency. Conversely, intricate counterpoint that often goes unnoticed was revealed to great effect, particularly in outer movements where the orchestra's string section proved more than equal to the challenge.
Sibelius's occasional forays into vocal music also yielded dividends, as soprano Helena Juntunen's performances in several of the composer's most celebrated songs left little room for doubt. Her dramatic commitment was absolute, throwing herself wholeheartedly into each character study. Baron Magnus, a ballad with an unusually upbeat conclusion, stood out, thanks to Juntunen's evocative and expressive singing.
Vänskä also brought a compelling narrative drive to the tone poem Luonnotar, rooted in the Kalevala, Finland's national epic. This innovative masterpiece from 1913 continues to defy interpretation, yet Vänskä seemed fully attuned to its weird brilliance. He coaxed an air of mysticism and cosmic scope from the music, a sense of creation that felt both thrilling and unsettling.
Shostakovich's enigmatic final symphony proved a worthy foil to Sibelius, with Vänskä adopting a brisk, mischievous approach to the first half. Here, he revelled in the symphony's neurotic tics and percussive textures, coaxing an almost frantic energy from the orchestra. Conversely, in the slower movements, Vänskä calmed the music down, allowing diaphanous textures and a sustained tension to create a haunting, Chekhovian ache. In the end, it was as if the music itself was gasping for air, its dying breath a mixture of sorrow and mockery.