I knew I had a ticket to a concert tonight; looking at the ticket, and what it was advertising, I realise I must have bought it in about July.
At work I checked on the South Bank website and groaned. Mozart, Mozart and Mozart. I am just about out-Mozarted. I looked at what CDs I had with me: three Mozarts, and an Arias compilation. I think I'll listen to the arias compilation. "Il mio tesoro..." No! Not more bloody Mozart, not when I'm not expecting it. But by La ci darem la mano, I'm thinking, I do like Mozart.
I wasn't really sure what the programme was. Just things with numbers. A Rondo, a Piano concerto, and a Symphony. I think I guessed which Symphony it was. a clue on the website about it being the one - along with Beethoven's Fifth - with the most familiar opening. "Ringtone!" I exclaim, being such a post-modernist Twenty First Century girl.
It was the Philharmonia, with Mikhail Pletnev directing from the piano. In the first half, anyway - he conducted the Symphony from the Podium.
All the pieces were familiar to me, the piano concerto and symphony extremely so, the Rondo more so than most pieces of non-vocal music by most composers.
Listening to the Rondo for piano and orchestra in D, K382 and Piano Concerto No 20 in D minor, I couldn't help thinking, this is nice music, pleasant little melody, but perhaps it's about time I got over Mozart and graduated onto more grown-up music. Perhaps those nay-saying experts are right. It's easy-listening salon music, nothing profound. As far as I could tell, the pieces were executed perfectly, technically speaking, and although the music drew me into concentration and contemplation, assisted by a wonderfully well-behaved audience, I didn't feel moved emotionally in any way.
Second half, Symphony No 40 in G minor K550. Come on, you know the one. The one that's on Ringtones. Hooked on Classics, hit the charts in '82. Dededuh dededuh dededuhdurr, Dededuh dededuh dededuhdurr, Dededuh dededuh dededuhdurr, dededuh duh duh Dur Dur...Clichéd and trite, I quickly concluded. I'm well Mozarted out, am I really looking forward to Le Nozze di Figaro on Saturday?*
And then something happened to me. I heard this extraordinarily familiar extraordinary piece of music in a way I have never heard it before. I had never previously noticed that it is not scored for timpani - and you'd think I'd notice something like that. But it doesn't need timpani, because of the way it's written, with low strings providing the backbone that any decent symphony needs.
Then I noticed some extraordinary things happening in the woodwind. I am not a great fan of the flute, and for two dozen years I have clung to the belief that Mozart didn't like the flute (except of the Zauber variety, of course). I read it in a book in the school library, and when you're fourteen and you've worked your way through a text book, you know everything in it is true. Even if does annoy the hell out of the flautists you know. And I knew a lot - "Influenced by James Galway and Atarah Ben-Tobin", that generation.
I have always adored Wolfie's clarinet writing, even though I don't like the clarinet as an instrument as much as I love the oboe and, especially, the cor anglais. But I have never really thought of this as a clarinet piece, certainly not in the same way as I think of the Clarinet Quintet and Concerto, and Cosi fan Tutte. But something very special was happening in the Philharmonic woodwind section this evening. Kudos to Paul Edmund-Davies, Principal Flautist, and my star of the evening. That was one Zauber Flote! What an amazing dialogue with the strings.
I was thinking that the strings were not at their best (or was this the acoustics of the Queen Elizabeth Hall, a venue I'm not overly familiar with?), sounding a bit like a vinyl record with fluff on it. And then they did something. It suddenly struck me, in Wagner's Tristan und Isolde there's a passage of manic violins that, surely,was directly influenced by the fiddles in this.
Overall, probably a 6/10 evening. I'm glad I went, but I might have looked back on it a bit dismally if it wasn't for the beauty of the woodwind and especially the flute. I know that when I listen to Mozart's Symphony No 40 in future, I shall do so with a more profound understanding of the music. Especially the gorgeous second movement.
Can I just say to the woman behind me, you seemed like a very nice person, so I desisted from saying anything, but please, dear, next time, a bit less perfume. I am not especially sensitive to perfume, but I did find that it was irritating my throat and nearly made me sneeze. I don't mind really, but if I had sneezed it may have ruined the music for other people. And, I'm afraid I would have had to explain that it was your perfume. I did check discretely with the man next to me. He used the word 'pungent'.
*Silly question, of course I am...
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