When I first started going to the Royal Scottish National Orchestra about 15 years ago, their Valentine’s Concert, an annual fixture, was mostly a potpourri of hits strung together around a loosely romantic theme – a few operatic arias, Boléro, something by Mozart – with the assistant conductor always in charge. Not any more. Those lollipop programmes would struggle to recognise a Valentine’s concert like this one that featured a UK premiere, an unfamiliar piano concerto, a top-notch international pianist, all conducted by the Music Director himself.
The love music came in the form of selections from Prokofiev’s Romeo and Juliet, a score the orchestra has played so frequently that it’s now part of their bloodstream, so there were no surprises that it sounded so good. The strings, in particular, sounded sensational in a throbbing, surging Balcony Scene and a Romeo at Juliet's Tomb as full as desperation as despair. They also made sparks fly in a white-hot performance of The Death of Tybalt, while the whole orchestra sparkled in the lighter dance movements.
But the most interesting things came in the first half, not least a sparkling performance of Saint-Saëns’ Piano Concerto no. 2 in G minor from Simon Trpčeski. Every time I hear one of Saint-Saëns’ orchestral works I’m baffled as to why they’re not more widely played, they’re so full of excitement, drama and terrific melodies. Trpčeski and conductor Thomas Søndergård recognised this concerto as the musical feast that it is. Trpčeski made the opening solo feel like an organ improvisation by Reger or Rheinberger, so rich and resonant did it sound, and the piano played the first movement’s main themes with operatic levels of intensity. He then played the Scherzando with terrific lightness of touch so that the whole movement had the consistency of candy floss until the orchestra weighed in with the gently lolloping counter-theme.
Trpčeski milked some post-movement applause from the audience before launching into the high-octane finale, a whirling tarantella that didn’t stop for breath, even in the central passage with long-held wind chords. Søndergård and the orchestra matched him phrase-for-phrase with playing of colour and energy, though I was slightly sorry that Trpčeski chose Saint-Saëns’ Swan for his encore. It sounded focused and lovely, as did the playing of principal cellist Betsy Taylor, but it rather sapped the energy after the boisterous concerto.
And the premiere? That came in the form of Iain Farrington’s Symphonic Fantasy based on Szymanowski’s King Roger, aptly given this concert was supported by the Adam Mickiewicz Institute. I struggle with much of Szymanowski’s highly perfumed sound world and, try as I might, I find King Roger impenetrable. So I guess I owe Farrington a debt of gratitude for reducing it to only 20 minutes, and for doing it in a steadily chronological manner that makes it easy to follow for anyone who knows the opera. Only in the opening did I miss the impact of the voices. Otherwise it’s a conventional condensation of the opera’s highlights, and the RSNO played it so that the ripples and shimmers floated above a solidly grounded bass-line. Interesting rather than gripping, but that’s more Szymanowski’s fault than Farrington’s, and this performance contained woodwind solos so full of sensual allure that even a Szymanowski sceptic like me came close to being converted.
