Nuremberg Symphony Orchestra
Jonathan Darlington (conductor)
Federico Colli (piano)
Cadogan Hall
14 November 2024
Part of Cadogan Hall’s Zurich International Orchestra Series, this concert presented three glorious nineteenth century masterpieces played by a German orchestra with a British conductor and Italian soloist so the spirit of European internationalism was alive and well.
And the atmosphere was festive. Nuremberg Symphony Orchestra favours a formal entrance and taking a bow before they sit down unlike most British Orchestras which tend to drift on piecemeal and then do last minute snippets of practice on stage while they wait. That party spirit was further enhanced by Colli’s witty choice of encore (Mozart’s delightful 12 Variations on Ah! Vous Dirai-je Maman aka Twinkle Twinkle Little Star) and the orchestra’s final end-of-concert bon-bon: an orchestral arrangement of Elgar’s Salut D’Amour with a gorgeously nostalgic solo from leader, Anna Reszniak. Marvellous, by the way, to hear a German orchestra affectionately playing Elgar. Sir Edward had many German friends and was heartbroken when war broke out in 1914.
The concert began with Weber’s Overture to Der Freischutz. It’s a jolly piece of many parts and moods and this performance was distinguished by some fine horn playing and lots of interestingly exaggerated dramatic contrasts. Darlington is an excitable conductor, often shaking all over in rhythm, his thick white hair bouncing but it gets him the results he wants.
Then came Grieg’s famous piano concerto played by Federico Colli, an exceptionally charismatic pianist to watch, on an instrument – sensibly – already in position from the start of the concert. It’s quite a challenge to make a hoary old warhorse of this sort sound fresh and arresting but this performance rose to it in spades. Colli played the first movement cadenza with sparkling originality including unusual stresses and very fluid rubato which created a stunned stillness, as everyone present (including the players) listened so actively you could feel it in the air. Colli is a visible listener too as we saw at the beautifully played opening to the adagio before his own melody cuts across the legato strings. The end of the adagio was lovely too – it leads ataca into the Allegro third movement but Colli and Darlington carefully let the sound linger in the air before the mood change. Colli played all those chirpy contrasts in the last movement with weight and colour too especially when we reached the grandiloquent conclusion.
And so to Brahms 4, arguably his finest symphony, which came after the interval. The opening allegro abounded with Brahmsian melodic warmth and some incisve pizzicato. Darlington is very good at coaxing exceptional richness from lower strings. He also did well with the delicate lyricism of the adagio making sure we heard the counterpoint in the strings which often slips past unnoticed.
The third movement, a scherzo in all but name, was delivered with all the lively joy it requires, with triangle and piccolo prominent. The principal bassoon (Jappe Dendievel), whose part is quite prominent was almost dancing. It’s infectiously uplifiting to see professional players evidently enjoying – really enjoying – their work.
I once heard the late Antony Hopkins (the musicologist, not the actor), a great educator, leading a concert hall full of children through this symphony. The opening chords in the final movement, he suggested with mild irreverence, might be saying B-R-A-H-M-S-Spells-Brahms. And I’ve never been able to listen to it since without thinking of that. (It works. Try it.) The Nuremberg Symphony Orchestra and Darlington probably weren’t intoning Hopkins in their heads but played it with verve.
