Unexpected Brilliance: The Budapest Festival Orchestra in London
In the realm of classical music, surprises are often the most delightful occurrences, and this was certainly the case when the Budapest Festival Orchestra (BFO) graced London with its presence, led by the charismatic music director, Iván Fischer. For this particular visit, the orchestra dedicated the entire evening to the works of one composer: Sergei Prokofiev. Interestingly, this year does not mark a specific anniversary related to Prokofiev, but as the saying goes, no excuse is necessary when it comes to celebrating extraordinary music. The BFO is set to embark on a Prokofiev series back in their Budapest home next week, and one can’t help but wish that London could have experienced all three of those captivating programs.
Despite the Royal Festival Hall not being at full capacity—a sight the BFO usually commands—the performance maintained its high standards, although a few moments of slight ensemble dislocation did occur, which is atypical for this renowned orchestra. The evening commenced with the Overture on Hebrew Themes, featuring the BFO’s clarinetist stepping forward as an unofficial soloist. His nonchalant Klezmer phrasing added a unique flavor to the piece, although the numerous tempo changes indicated that the orchestra was still in the process of settling in.
The highlight of the evening was undoubtedly the Piano Concerto No. 2, renowned as the most challenging of Prokofiev’s five concertos. This piece demands a soloist who possesses not only technical prowess but also the emotional depth to navigate its turbulent waters. Igor Levit rose to the occasion, showcasing a remarkable blend of cool composure and passionate expression. Composed between 1912 and 1913, Prokofiev’s work emerged during a tumultuous period in his life, marked by the tragic suicide of a close friend, who left a note addressed to him. The concerto is thus dedicated to that friend’s memory.
Fischer and Levit crafted a performance that struck a delicate balance between the music’s underlying tragedy and its moments of abstract brilliance, reminiscent of a Kandinsky painting or even the grotesque humor of Picasso. The result was a 360-degree interpretation of the piece that was not just eloquent but also deeply insightful. As an encore, Levit chose to perform Der Dichter sprach from Schumann’s Kinderszenen, offering a pure and poetic contrast to the earlier intensity.
A Journey Through Cinderella
While ballet enthusiasts might be intimately familiar with the Cinderella score, its concert rendition remains a rare treat. Perhaps that was why Fischer, in selecting pieces from both suites, opted to narrate the story between the segments. However, this approach proved to be a double-edged sword: one of the episodes was delivered out of sequence, disrupting the flow, particularly during the climactic clock scene. The whirling waltz builds tension and should seamlessly transition into the striking of midnight, yet Fischer abruptly interrupted the music to explain the narrative. The audience, however, would have grasped the unfolding drama, as Prokofiev’s composition immerses us deeply within a fantastical clock filled with grinding, squealing mechanisms and spellbinding power. This very music is so haunting that choreographer Matthew Bourne, in his own interpretation set against the backdrop of the Blitz, transformed it into the bombing of the Café de Paris.
Regardless of these interruptions, the performance was enchanting. This Cinderella was adorned in the rich, satin sounds of the cello section, complemented by the fiery warmth of the violins during the waltz, which was executed with an authentic Viennese rhythm. The music sparkled with the golden threads of the trumpet, the intricate beading of percussion, the haute-couture artistry of the woodwinds, and the lively steps of the double basses. As the gentle sigh of the celesta concluded the evening, the audience collectively sighed in joy, fully appreciating the enchanting journey they had just experienced.
