review of concert on 28/10/01
Taken from Varsity, 01/11/2001
Isis
Isis, the new music society specialising in orchestral music from 1900 to 1950, launched its inaugural concert on Sunday night with an ambitious programme combining Stravinsky’s Danses Concertantes with Mahler 1. Isis are clearly trying to carve a niche for themselves in the Cambridge classical music scene, with an emphasis on inclusion and optional auditions yet a determination to conquer the masterpieces of the twentieth century. Twentieth century? Mahler 1? Despite aiming to break away from “the familiar ground of the nineteenth-century Germanic tradition”, Isis announced themselves with one of the most celebrated Teutonic symphonies. Steven Rajam, Isis’ conductor and founder, justifies his choice by making the frequently-cited link between Mahler and modernism. Although in the end, the capacity audience were probably more intrigued by the prospect of hearing such an immense symphonic work performed in Cambridge by a student orchestra than by Mahler’s influence on Lachenmann and Schnittke’s postmodernism. Which is no bad thing.
Stravinsky’s Danses concertantes, Isis’ curtain-raiser, is more in keeping with their aspiration to bring lesser-known early twentieth-century works to the fore. One of Stravinsky’s neo-classical works for chamber orchestra, it demands utter rhythmic clarity and assertion, yet a crystalline texture and subtle dynamics. Isis began rather hesitantly: the spiky, angular rhythms required more accents and clearer phrasing. The ensemble gathered confidence as the dances progressed, but I was hoping for more of Stravinsky’s characteristic wit and delicacy to shine through the performance. Nevertheless, the orchestra produced a fine tutti sound, and brought individual colour and mood to each variation. Special mention should go to the spectacular flute solos which resonated with remarkable clarity through the less-than-favourable acoustic of Jesus Chapel, and to the well-balanced ensemble of the principal oboist and clarinettist. A few uncomfortable moments in the fourth dance marred an otherwise assured performance, which needed more pzazz and charisma to convey Stravinsky’s balletic charm to the audience.
The haunting, mysterious introduction of the Mahler necessitates complete concentration and commitment from each orchestra member in order to create the chilling atmosphere signifying the dawn of time. Although they did generate a sense of stillness, the orchestra needed purer harmonics in the strings and more secure intonation in the woodwind. The main theme, however, had good direction and plenty of rustic buoyancy, and led to a rousing climax with triumphant trumpet fanfares. Steven Rajam’s rather conservative tempo occasionally meant that the momentum decreased in the slower passages, as well as towards the end. While he provides a good clear beat, Rajam would do well to indicate his interpretation of dynamics to the orchestra: only then can Mahler’s directions of ppp and pppp have their full effect.
Having chosen a cautious tempo for the first movement, Rajam took the scherzo much faster. A brave decision, which succeeded in bringing the dance-like element to life. The string sound here was fuller than in the first movement, especially in the violins, and Isis brought a genuine sense of fun and enjoyment to the music. It was a pity that the humour of the scherzo did not extend to the third movement, where the caricature of the Viennese organ-grinder needed even more of a drunken swagger to contrast effectively with the funeral march.
Isis obviously enjoy the big tutti outbursts, such as the stormy beginning of the fourth movement, and carry them off with force and bravado. They need now to work on the lyrical intimacy required in the D flat major section, and on the string and brass sound. Nevertheless, the finale certainly achieved its dramatic and rhetorical potential, as well as much well-deserved applause for the conductor.
Isis aim to present themselves as a music society with a difference, a credible contrast to the perceived elitism of existing orchestras. Their informality shows in their non-audition policy and their concert attire, an array of bright colours contrasting with the traditional yet somewhat funereal black. One must admire the impressive feat of assembling an orchestra of over eighty players, including nine horns, who seem to have suddenly appeared from the Cambridge woodwork to take part. Theirs may not have been a perfect rendition of Mahler 1, but it gave many fresh faces and some more familiar orchestral players the welcome opportunity to perform a symphonic masterpiece.