Philharmonia/Rovali Review – Fazil Say’s Concerto Sounds Like an Urgent Wake-up Call | Philharmonia Orchestra

TThe Philharmonia closed its 80th anniversary season in style with a pair of late Romantic hitters and the UK premiere of Turkish composer Fazil Say’s seven-movement piano concerto. With nature at its heart, the program has moved from the frozen lands of Finland to the sunny forests of Bohemia and beyond.

En Saga, a last-minute replacement for Falla’s Love the Magician, was Sibelius’s first tone poem, poorly received in 1893 but successfully revised nine years later. The composer declined to offer any specific literary interpretations, yet the colorful score is full of images, from national festivals to dark forests and midnight sleigh rides. He proved to be both meat and drink for fellow Finn Santo Mattias Rovalli. Indulging in ambiguous dramas, the conductor effortlessly maintained the musical momentum across its grand arc while striking some imaginative platform positions of his own to further evoke its theatrical effects.

According to the composer, Say’s “Mother Earth” was conceived as “a dramatic wake-up call in the fight to avert the climate crisis.” It is framed by an introduction and introduction, including an interlude in the middle, and the remaining four movements are named Land, Forest, Sea, and River. Where he invokes Sibelius, he says he prefers to depict him. The thundering rhythm depicts earthquakes and landslides. Mobile devices imitate bird sounds. Peas wrapped on a drum indicate wind and waves. At its best, as in Earthquake, or In the Jungle, with its Latin-infused tropical rhythms, the music was cheerful, if trivial.

The piano part, played by Sy himself, moved from calm and slightly sad to anxious and charged, the last thing calling for some virtuoso playing. Particularly interesting were the zither-like passages that required the soloist to play with only his left hand while extending his right hand inside the piano to manipulate the strings.

If Say’s work serves as a warning, Dvořák’s Eighth Symphony is almost entirely optimistic. The Philharmonia gave it a big but fluidly phrased workout, with a meaty string tone – especially the cello – and secure, full-bodied trumpets. Balancing Brahminical classicism with acerbic folk expressions, Rouvalli’s unflinching interpretation is gentle and urgent. He is often cheerful, but always elegant.