Open Writing

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“Land and Sea” - Northland Sinfonia Orchestra Concert
Capitaine Bougainville Theatre, Forum North
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It seems like ages since I last went to a Northland Sinfonia concert. That’s because it IS ages – a bit over a year, in fact. Not, you understand, that I’ve been deliberately steering clear. One concert was cancelled because of the unavoidable absence of several “key players”, and somehow or other I managed to miss another; the first I heard of it was the week after it had taken place! Unfortunately for me, that particular concert marked their move from their former Church venue into Forum North.

As I’ve said before, the desiccated acoustics of Forum North’s Capitaine Bougainville Theatre, whilst admirable for the intended purpose, do no favours whatsoever for natural – by which I mean "unamplified" – music. Since the acoustics of their former venue were far more sympathetic, I asked Nigel Harrison, the NSO’s conductor, about the reason behind the move. His opinion of the acoustics was as low as mine, but there was the question of whether more folk would prefer comfier seating to better sound.

Apparently, the bums win hands down! For, when I arrived, I was pleasantly surprised to find the place positively buzzing with milling crowds, and a long queue of last-minute customers snaking out of the booking office. I had to wonder: what if we had a PROPER concert hall, cosseting both rear-ends AND ear-holes? However, my musing was soon overtaken, by the realisation that it was more than just comfy seats for bums that was getting all these bums on comfy seats.

Seeing – and hearing – the orchestra again after my involuntary sabbatical, the change was striking. The Northland Sinfonia’s renaissance was pressing on apace. Over the last couple of years the NSO’s structure has improved a lot, with the ironing out of inequities, particularly within the woodwind and brass. On this current showing, the NSO is within a couple of French horns, a bassoon and a percussionist of being a nigh-on perfectly-poised chamber symphony orchestra.

That in itself improves sectional balance, which further encourages the players’ already evident will to succeed. The woodwind, in particular, have become a far better balanced section, and have graduated from erratic to eloquent. As the orchestra’s complement and shape continues – and assuming that it WILL continue! – to improve, so will its repertoire widen.

At the moment, they are in the “options” zone. Either they play only pieces for which they already have the full forces, or they fudge the forces to fit. I’m glad to say that the NSO has elected to do a bit of fudging. For example, a saxophone is made to masquerade as a horn (well, at least both instruments are “French”!), or an electronic keyboard to mimic a harp or a harpsichord.

Inevitably, such workarounds are less than ideal – but so what? This pragmatic approach allows the eager NSO to get its collective teeth into more enterprising repertoire NOW, rather than later. And, for audiences, this can only be good news. After all, it’s infinitely preferable to hear an approximation to a score than not to hear that score at all.

Generally, I’m no great fan of these “themed” concerts, which for me is a pity, since it seems that nowadays virtually every concert comes with some fanciful – and frequently pointless – title. Sometimes I miss half the concert, because I’m trying to figure out what the music has to do with the theme, and other times (basically, ALL the other times) the whole idea just seems so trite that it makes my lip quiver involuntarily, which does little to enhance my enjoyment of the music. How did I take to the NSO’s “Land and Sea” theme?

Well, maybe not like a duck to water, but at least my lip stayed still! That was partly because the point was actually fairly clear – “Land”, in the first half, being represented by MacCunn’s “Land of the Mountain and the Flood”, Delius’s “On Hearing the First Cuckoo in Spring” and “The Walk to the Paradise Garden”, plus Grainger’s “Country Gardens”. “Sea”, in the second half, came in the forms of Coates’s “By the Sleepy Lagoon” (a bit borderline, that one!), Elgar’s “Sea Pictures” and Wood’s “Fantasia on British Sea Songs”.

This was neat enough, but hardly Earth-shakingly ingenious. What lifted it in my estimation was the rather more imaginative idea of placing, as preludes to the halves, two contrasted yet complementary concertos, which had NOTHING whatsoever to do with the theme – other than, that is, they were both presumably conceived on terra firma!

With two trumpets, three trombones and a tuba arrayed at the rear, I’d have expected MacCunn’s tuneful Land of the Mountain and the Flood to have had a bit more oomph. All right, I know that many a Bruckner symphony performance (for instance) has been ruined by over-indulgence in the “heavy metal”. Moreover, the NSO’s string section is only half the size of a full symphony orchestra’s, so the conductor needs to be doubly careful that the brass don’t drown everybody out (even if that might be another angle on the theme). Nevertheless, care cuts both ways, and there were numerous occasions in this concert where the leash could usefully have been loosened a little.

Grainger’s Country Garden started tentatively, but warmed up nicely as the alcohol – doubtless a fermentation product of the turnips that Grainger recommended we think of while we listen! – worked its way through. With Delius’s characteristic tonal haziness oozing from their pores, the NSO brought a charming lilt to On Hearing the First Cuckoo in Spring. Although The Walk to the Paradise Garden’s desperate climax lacked the necessary tragic weight (more of the brass, please!), elsewhere there were touches of real magic – in the opening’s hushed strings, the centre’s luminous flutes, and the concluding heartache.

The excerpts from Wood’s Fantasia on British Sea Songs were (as ever) lots of fun – though I did wonder, with a vocal soloist on hand, why Britannia couldn’t be persuaded to put in an appearance. Coates’s By the Sleepy Lagoon, however, was exceptional. At the very start, we were regaled with a rarely-realised, gorgeously reedy sound. Again, where many conductors are wont to milk the melody for every last drop of dreaminess, Nigel Harrison, by sensibly setting the tempo at a relatively upbeat andante, instead milked it for every last drop of laid-back charm.

Amateur orchestras seem to have the knack of raising their game for a soloist, whether visiting or “merely” in-house. The NSO is no exception: the three works featuring soloists were, without exception, the highlights of the programme. Two section principals stepped forward to play the concertos.

Vivaldi’s concertos can often sound mechanical in “virtuoso” hands. This performance of the Oboe Concerto (R454) was anything but. By simply giving the music room to breathe, Regine Hagg rendered the fast movements felicitously perky and piquant, admirable foils to a slow movement presented with all due gravity.

Eva Harris, playing with liquid cantabile and ample agility, gave us a real eye-opener in Cécile Chaminade’s uncommon – and uncommonly enchanting – Flute Concertino (op. 107). These were two thoroughly captivating efforts – as far as I was concerned, both as pleasurable as any top-notch professionals could have managed.

The third soloist, Marion Hammond, sang Elgar’s Sea Pictures. I’ve heard a fair few views of this song-cycle – I even recorded two live performances, by different singers, within the space of a single month. Marion had unusual credentials – her normal stamping-ground is not the concert platform or opera stage, but the rather more popular arena of musical theatre. It made not the slightest jot of difference.

Admittedly her voice – pure, clear and commendably free from the dreaded gratuitous vibrato – is perhaps a little light for this music (Janet Baker casts a long shadow!), but apart from a finale slightly shy of the red-eyed rage of both words and music, there was nothing at all “light” about her understanding or expressive capabilities.

Over-caution in the deployment of “heavy metal” was not limited to the brass. In the finale of “Sea Pictures” Elgar calls for a tam-tam, for him a rare move indeed, so surely he intended it to create a particular dramatic impact. With just such an effect still resonating in my memory, I felt a wee tingle of anticipation when I spotted that very instrument nestling amongst the NSO’s percussion. Unfortunately, if I hadn’t SEEN it being struck, I probably wouldn’t have known it was being played.

Of course, it may not be so much over-caution as misjudgement of the theatre’s acoustic. I recall that, when the Auckland Youth Symphony Orchestra played there last October, I blamed the acoustic for much the same thing. Possibly, then, the NSO’s rehearsal-room is much livelier, and all that’s needed is a firmer foot on the compensation pedal!

However, don’t go thinking that, because it took a lot of words to describe, this is a Big Problem. In actuality, it’s small beer when measured on the scale of the orchestra’s revival, the key to which is the unassuming Nigel Harrison. According to NSO’s President, Nigel is “an inspiration”, to which I’d add that Nigel, in turn, is fortunate to command a platoon of such responsive troops.

The question is, what’s next? Good as it is to play nicely, great musical works are more than just nice – they are, or should be, electrifying. I’ve learnt from long experience what an amateur orchestra is capable of, given a good right hand on the helm. Well, Nigel seems to have a right hand made of the right stuff, so I have a feeling that, as the man says, “You ain’t heard nuthin’ yet!”