“A spectacular student-led symphony that delivers textbook excellence”
This production showcases the absolute best of Guildhall School of Music and Drama students. Handily next door to the school itself, the space of the Barbican Hall affords the young performers a sublime platform. The hall is a large airy modern stage visible from every seat in the house, complimented by geometric patterns in its vertical wooden panels adorning the back walls of the stage adding visual interest but never distraction. The huge orchestra was laid out in classical chamber style, replete with a cor anglais, timpani drums and a French horn section side-eyeing the brass section, as is tradition.
The show is opened up by a brief speech from composer Julian Anderson, himself a tutor at the school for nineteen years. He is clearly proud to work with and for these students. Unbeknownst to him, he was sat behind me in the audience afterward and I got to hear him occasionally mutter quiet compliments to the students throughout- a sweet hidden gesture in an otherwise intense program. The opening salvo is Anderson’s 2016 composition Incantesimi, apparently inspired by the quietness of the Quaker community; more sound and fewer notes. Five aural themes are woven throughout. The overall sound of the piece was astonishing. simultaneously anxiety-inducing and awesome. Strangely, it is described as and intended to be calming and “zen-like”. It rather sounded like the soundscape to a Hitchcock film. This is absolutely a compliment and a testament to the variety of interpretation. As shrieking strings merged with woodwind, the effect was of one of constant quiet dread building into smaller crescendos. It felt like an experimental score to a contemporary horror film, and became a clever counterpart to the two classical masterpieces that followed.
Prokofiev’s Romeo and Juliet, a ballet so famous you’ve probably heard the seminal “Montagues and Capulets” section over a million adverts, opening title sequences and the backdrop to many a TV drama. A selection from Suites 1 and 2 showcase the terrific skills of the string section here, alongside the percussion section, complimented by two harpists. A standout segment was the “Death of Tybalt” sequence. A piece so zealous it felt like a circle pit would open up. There is something so special about watching musicians create atmosphere in front of your very eyes in real time; it really did remind me of a metal concert.
The second act was devoted to the entirety of Stravinsky’s The Rite of Spring. A bassoon solo based on Lithuanian folk song opens up what is one of the greatest compositions of all time. In two parts- The Augurs of Spring and The Sacrifice, the whole piece feels galvanizing and magnetic. It is a melting pot of tonal shifts, rhythmically switching drumbeats and a wild melody. It was a visceral experience to watch the students emit such powerful sounds from their instruments in such a controlled way: each instrument a conduit for their enthusiasm and an extension of their individuality.
The Guildhall Symphony Orchestra has put together a fine programme showcasing exceptional talent from its students, enabled by Kerem Hasan’s impeccable conducting. An invocation to the God of Spring may just be the perfect March ticket, and a hefty reminder that classical ballet compositions are certainly not a dying art, as a certain actor recently quipped. On the contrary, the Guildhall Symphony Orchestra, itself full of literal youth and vigour revitalises the intent behind each note and the skill required to reverberate it around the auditorium, capturing sonic moments that cannot be replicated outside of a shared live experience.
This performance was for one night only, across multiple events throughout the Guildhall Symphony Orchestra’s Spring Programme.