Mäkelä embraces tradition and modernity at the Concertgebouw

If ever a programme encapsulated the essence of the Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra, tonight’s would top the list. Pairing the Dutch premiere of Andrew Norman’s Play alongside two Strauss symphonic poems, Don Juan and Der Rosenkavalier – music at the very the core of the orchestra’s DNA – was not only a masterstroke of programming, but a very real measure of the orchestra’s future direction under their Chief Conductor Designate, Klaus Mäkelä.

The RCO’s commitment to performing the classics of tomorrow is undisputed. As is their continued commitment to the classics of yesteryear. Notwithstanding tonight’s contribution, in the past twelve months alone, Strauss’ Don Quixote under Han-Na Chang, Death and Transfiguration with Barbara Hannigan and Ein Heldenleben at the 2024 Christmas Matinee have all found their way onto the podium.

Strauss’s writing is not for the faint-hearted. And rather like the test set in Norman’s Play, a conductor must navigate his intensely complex and dense orchestral textures whilst creating a convincing narrative which lives long in an audience’s mind. Where would Mäkelä’s interpretation sit amongst the greats like Mariss Jansons’ legendary live recording?

The programme

The Dutch premiere of Andrew Norman’s Play

Huge percussion lists are par of the course for many contemporary commissions, often including everything bar the kitchen sink. Norman’s 2016 revised version of Play, lasting a rather lengthy 47 minutes and deemed by Klaus Mäkelä to be the ‘must hear’ of the season, takes this mantra to heart by adding a washboard to the already extensive array of antique cymbals, log drums and opera gongs which help guide the musicians through his complex labyrinth. As a swarming whirlwind descended, the hugely versatile RCO found that funky groove. This was a detailed, colourful and meticulously rehearsed offering, with Mäkelä indeed navigating a convincing path en route to a higher level of mortality, free from traditional constraint?

Play is first and foremost a highly visual work and striking choreography especially in the second slower movement was a visual feast. Cello and double bass hands simply moved in unison up and down the fingerboards. No bow touched the strings; no fingers plucked the strings. Just the sound of hands moving together as one. With the addition of a prepared piano and brass blowing down their instruments producing no discernible pitch, Norman was having fun. Sound: just not as we know it.

Playing with sound

In a similar vein, Norman ‘played’ with the concept of melody which was frequently shared across instruments and often reduced to just one note. Mäkelä again found the musical line while creating a distinctive colour palette guiding the listener around the orchestra. The piercing muted trumpet’s single repeated note cleverly enhanced by a bowed vibraphone became not only a still calm amidst the surrounding snarling tumult, but the musical equivalent of Groundhog Day. The wood block, scary slapsticks and the infamous washboard were left to articulate phrasing and mood, and propel the action forward.

Man taking a bow — Composer Andrew Norman taking a bow © Eduardus Lee

Melodies and fragments lurched backwards and forward while walls of sonic white noise, channelling a club dance vibe and enough to send a newly-born child into the deepest of sleeps, seemed unable to break free of the loop. In the distance, a lonesome oboe beckoned as the reconstruction of melody commenced. ‘Tunes’ oscillating between just two notes and harmony with chords of more than one note gradually increased. Gradually losing steam, a glimmer of hope beckoned. The second violin’s tender note signalling that perhaps the baby would sleep well tonight.

Mäkelä embraces tradition

As Strauss’s Don Juan burst forth, lush romanticism, generous strings, exquisite woodwind solos, mesmerizing basslines, and nimble percussion were the order of the day. Strauss’ intrepid heroic explorer, courtesy of the RCO horns, took centre-stage – at times darkly ominous but always curious. Donning a smart new haircut, Mäkelä’s intricate knowledge of the score shone brightly and he seemed completely at ease.

Strauss’ depiction of love between a lady and her young lover in his suite from Der Rosenkavalier similarly impressed. Classy Viennese waltzes relishing the swing and sway mixed restraint and coy naivety. Violin solos kept all on their toes, trembling tambourines displayed real panache, and the oboe melted hearts. Strauss’ music really is in the RCO’s bones. Mäkelä commitment to the orchestra’s heritage, bringing a fresh face to Strauss’s stunning oeuvre by introducing it to a young audience, was never in doubt.