Clive Paget 

LPO/Edusei review – devastating Wijeratne and Martinů meet zany fun with Zappa

London Philharmonic programme brought together aching music of exile and displacement with kooky excursions by the pop fusion guru
  
  

Kevin John Edusei.
Sure-footed … Kevin John Edusei. Photograph: MarcoBorggreve/Marco Borggreve

The London Philharmonic went out on an artistic limb in this unconventional concert on themes of cross-fertilization and exile, and to their credit they reaped substantial rewards. German conductor Kevin John Edusei was at the helm for an eclectic programme that included classical noodling by pop fusion guru Frank Zappa and that relative rarity, in this country at least, a symphony by the Czech composer Bohuslav Martinů.

At its heart was the European premiere of a concerto for clarinet and string orchestra by Sri Lankan-born Canadian composer Dinuk Wijeratne. Written for clarinettist Kinan Azmeh, it reflects on the devastating displacement of more than five million Syrians from their homeland since 2011, not to mention the 400,000 dead. In six impactful movements, the soloist takes the audience on an emotional journey from carefree childhood, represented by the stamping Dance of Ancestral Ties, through nocturnal desolation in Exile: The Salt of Bread and Rhythm, and ending with hopeful resignation in Home in Motion.

Azmeh gave a sinuous, idiomatic performance full of expressive intensity, with the composer himself lending support on piano, delving beneath the lid at times to stroke or strike the strings. Edusei and the orchestra were comfortably in the zone throughout.

By way of contrast, the Zappa, drawing on pop music written in the 1960s, was a riot, with kooky titles such as Uncle Meat complemented by quirky orchestrations. The Dog Breath Variations, for example, featured wah-wah trombones, banjo and electric bass, while the mournful Outrage at Valdez incorporated vibraphone, tubular bells and mandolin. Fast-paced, funky, and with an earworm of a theme, G-spot Tornado did what it said on the can.

By 1953 Martinů was an exile, struggling to earn a living far from his native land. Appropriately, his sixth and final symphony marries a nostalgic ache for the Bohemian countryside with the repeated threats of a doom-laden motif borrowed from Dvořák’s Requiem. That duality was palpable as the polished warmth of the LPO strings was swept away by violent interjections from brass and percussion. Edusei delivered a sure-footed account of this enthralling work, though with a wider dynamic range he might have plumbed greater depths.

 

Leave a Comment

Required fields are marked *

*

*