Tetzlaff’s Herculean Widmann concerto helps Robertson look forward and back.

Concert Hall, Sydney Opera House
February 16, 2015

The highly regarded, yet infinitely challenging, composer (and clarinettist) Jörg Widmann might not be the obvious choice to pair with Robert Schumann but, as David Robertson cannily demonstrates, the two share some common traits that place them firmly in the same unbroken line of German musical development. And with the Sydney Symphony Orchestra on top form plus Christian Tetzlaff the soloist (and dedicatee) of the Widmann, here was an evening of thought-provoking pleasures.

Schumann’s Third and Fourth symphonies are something of a misnomer, mostly because the fourth should have been the second, so playing them in reverse order allowed us to properly witness the composer’s development as a symphonist. The first observation worth making about the Fourth is how extraordinarily forward looking it is. Time and again one is reminded of Brahms, and in particular the Third Symphony, a work still 43 years away (the second movement of the latter is surely inspired by the second moment of the former). Schumann was 31 when he penned it, substantially revising it 10 years later, but there’s no disguising that this is young man’s music. Thrusting and passionate, the work is an outpouring of romantic themes, not always perfectly worked out (the finale isn’t so much as a development of the first movement but a continuation of it), but its sheer invention and melodic appeal more than compensate for what a structuralist might feel is lacking.

In David Robertson’s hands, that emotional impulse was fully realised. The SSO’s Chief Conductor is an expert at handling the ebb and flow of the Romantics – witness his superb Brahms last year. His Schumann benefitted from that same organic approach, with intimately detailed phrase shaping and a sense of urgent advocacy that convinced this listener at least that Schumann’s symphonies are every bit as important as Brahms – and in many ways far more revolutionary. Off like a rocket, Robertson still found room to dig deep into the SSO’s bass sound, and giving it all a sense of joyous spontaneity (the symphony is in D Minor but you’d never think it melancholy for a moment).

Those who like to knock Schumann’s orchestrations shouldn’t have had much to grumble about here. With divided violins to realise Schumann’s antiphonal effects and some lovely gestures towards HIP (historically informed practice) – the trumpets and timps were distinctly ‘period’ – it all felt perfectly balanced. Solos were discreet yet telling (Diana Doherty and Umberto Clerici’s lovely duet at the opening of the second movement was a special moment). At times the symphony looks backwards – the Scherzo is distinctly Beethovian and was given due weight with some lovely diminuendos on upward phrases – and yet the Finale has a Brucknerian feel about it and benefitted from some excellent brass playing. The fugal build and race for the finish was fleet of foot with Robertson a dancing delight on the podium.

Jörg Widmann’s 2007 Violin Concerto is a real discovery. And since it was specifically written for the SSO’s guest soloist, Christian Tetzlaff, we were in ideal hands to be guided through Widmann’s dark landscape, the fearless violinist leading the way like a spirit guide through the realm of the dead. In Widmann, moments of frenetic energy rub up against passages of intense, joyous lyricism. If one were looking for parallels or (odious) comparisons, one would have to say Berg, certainly, was an influence, thus placing the work firmly in the long line of Germanic romantic concertos. But there were echoes too of Britten, and in its depths, Sibelius.

Scored for large orchestra (but no brass except four horns who play muted a great deal), the piece benefits from icy harp and celeste plus some carefully chosen daubs of specialist percussion. The solo line is fiendishly difficult, virtually unbroken, and requiring strength and stamina across the full gamut. Super powers are specially called for at the very top – a fabulous extended section in the slow central movement really showed the soloist at his best.

As performer, Tetzlaff took it all in his stride, imbuing the line with a romanticism that made you yearn to follow where he led. Watching him physicalize it all – knees bent here, up on the toes there, almost waltzing off into the third section – was part of the experience. The SSO supported him superbly – not a single solo note was buried nor blurred. Tetzlaff talks of the work’s fulfilling power and, especially towards the end, there are moments of intense ecstasy with a romantic edge that made the coupling with Schumann feel singularly appropriate. The naysayers at interval may have joked about confusing Tetzlaff’s upper harmonics with feedback in their hearing loops, but I gather the sales desk did a good trade in the excellent Ondine recording of the work so yah boo sucks to them.

The second half performance of Schumann’s Rhenish brought us back to the 19th century with a jolt. Easily the most popular of the composer’s four symphonies, it too benefitted from the strengths that Robertson brought to the Fourth, plus his opera conductor’s instinct for the dramatic. Following the precedent of Beethoven’s Pastoral, Schumann’s Third can be read as a painting of life in the Rhineland, to which Robert and Clara had recently repaired in order for the former to take up a conducting post. Cast in the key of E Flat, it also owes a debt to Beethoven’s Eroica, especially in its heroically optimistic opening movement, which in the SSO’s hands surged and leapt along (David Robertson is one of those conductors who really knows how to enjoy a good 6/8).

The second movement ländler had a relaxed feel – more Bohemian woods than Viennese waltz – reflecting perhaps a day in the country rather than a night on the razzle. Terrific wind and brass here, with the big horn phrases at the end rich and sonorous. The third movement, almost a Victorian gavotte, was dispatched with characteristic grace before the ‘processional’ fourth movement with its polyphonic brass ( and three added trombones – for Schumann, apparently, always an omen of death). After that, the good-natured Finale came as a suitable release, Robertson giving it a sense of enormous jollity, and teasing us with his cheeky phrasing until the final onslaught.

Imaginative programming as ever, then, from an orchestra and its inspirational Chief. The days ahead see more intriguing juxtapositions – Debussy with Boulez and a new work by George Lentz, and then Beethoven Nine coupled with Act Three of Wozzeck (!?). Personally I can’t wait.