A dramatic tour de force, showcasing some of the most outstanding talent in classical music today.
If the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic’s recent Rachmaninov concert was a romantic musical journey, this was an exercise in pure dramatics, and an excellent example of the sheer versatility of both individual pieces and musical artists. I’ve already given my thoughts on the incredible piece of music that is Nautilus by Anna Meredith – and I have also sung the praises of Adam Hickox and Ning Feng recently (in the same review, no less!), so it was with high expectations and a touch of excitement that I went into this performance; adding Welsh bass-baritone, Sir Bryn Terfel, to the mix (alongside the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Choir), and it feels like something that can only be described as decadent.
The first time I heard Nautilus live I was so taken by the music that I was transported to some other plane of existence entirely, so it was incredibly gratifying to be able to enjoy both the music and Adam Hickox’s conducting this time. The orchestra undulates like the sea, Hickox pushing and pulling the tides with effortless charm. I will say that it didn’t escape my attention that the older members of the audience weren’t quite so keen on the modernity of Meredith’s work, but you can’t win them all.
Mendelssohn’s Violin Concerto is everything that I didn’t realise I needed from a piece of music, and it suits Ning Feng’s playing to a T. There were no holds barred with this performance, and my genuine excitement to witness Feng perform again was met with immediate gratification; soaring, crystal clear high notes, speed and precision you wouldn’t believe… It doesn’t matter how bold or delicate the music calls to be played, the execution was exquisite. Feng dances and weaves through the orchestral accompaniment with undeniable grace, and, again it was hard to tear my eyes away to fully appreciate Hickox’s fluid conducting and the orchestra’s incredible performance. Technical brilliance is nothing without the joy, passion, and pure love it is clear Feng and Hickox have for their craft. Hearing fellow audience members gushing with adoration for the performance they had just seen during the interval did not come as a surprise in the slightest.
William Walton’s Belshazzar’s Feast is a biblical story that pulls no punches. It tells the tale of the Babylonian King Belshazzar, his enslavement and dire mistreatment of the Isralites, and his death and the subsequent collapse of Babylon. Both orchestra and choir cultivate a suitably eerie and fantastical atmosphere throughout the performance, and Sir Bryn Terfel cuts an imposing figure on stage; you can practically hear him before he even opens his mouth, such is the gravitas with which he holds himself. His ability to do so, with the orchestra and choir at his back, is indicative of why Sir Bryn is held in such high regard, and his characterisation of King Belshazzar brings a wry humour to the unadulterated drama of Walton’s piece. Further to this, throughout Hickox exudes that boyish charm, and, even with his back to the audience and focus on the orchestra, you can feel his joy as he conducts, practically see his smile as he throws himself into the swell of musicians at his command. The precision of timing each person on that stage displays is enthralling.
The evening culminated not in Balshazzar’s Feast, but in a Welsh choral rendition of Happy Birthday, dedicated to Sir Bryn – a lovely, human touch, and the cherry on the cake after a concert chock full of emotive, dramatic performances.
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