A Proms kerfuffle: The Melbourne SO triumphs over adversity
PROMS 2025: Sutherland, Dvořäk Tchaikovsky. Khatia Buniatishvili (piano); Melbourne Symphony Orchestra / Jaime Martín (conductor).
Margaret Sutherland Haunted Hills
Dvořäk Symphony No. 6 in D, Op. 60
Tchaikovsky Piano Concerto No. 1 in B flat minor, Op. 23
“This programme has been edited since it was first broadcast”.
Not half: there were very vocal protests via the pro-Palestine protest group Jewish Artists for Palestine; the catalyst seems to have been the Melbourne Symphony Orchestra’s cancellation of a performance by Jess Gillam last year in Sydney in response to comments he made that were said to be pro-Gazan. Shouting started a few minutes in, with banners hung from the Gallery promenade space reading, ‘BBC and MSO Complicit In Genocide’. That’s the one I could see, anyway – there may have been more. Eventually, Jaime Martín stopped the performance and exited the stage; after an hiatus, the concert began from the beginning again. None of which is audible on the BBC Sounds casting.
And there was me thinking Melbourne was just the setting for Neighbours.
The obvious effects any disruption such as this would have been understandably audible in performance, and were at least in the upward, trumpet-led gesture of the opening, so confident on first incarnation, a little more ragged on the second; in both of them, Martín had clearly decided on the brass colour (the Melbourne SO’s recording, conducted by John Hopkins in an Australian Broadcasting Corporation release blends trumpet more with upper strings). Whichever way one hears it, it is an arresting opening, and listening live in the hall the dedication of the Australian orchestra was remarkable. Concentration was palpable; an attempt to restart the disturbance at a hushed moment led to an extended pause but no cessation of performance; nerves of steel from Martín. In a sense, then, while this was the piece’s first performance at the Proms, there remains space for a ‘first complete performance at the Proms,’ one in which players and audience were not so on edge, where the music could flow uninterrupted from end to end.
Margaret Sutherland was a real proponent of taking the native landscapes of Australia as inspiration: craggy but grand. The tone-poem Haunted Hills takes the Dandenong Ranges as starting point, the result of colliding tectonic plates and volcanic eruptions (they are near Melbourne). But there was more, and perhaps Sutherland’s social protest took on a particular poignancy this evening: she keenly felt the pain of the Indigenous tribes who were displaced by white settlers. She said that Haunted Hills was a ‘contemplation for the first people who roamed the hills, their bewilderment and their betrayal .... its seeming gaiety born of despair’.
The ABC performance finds Wagnerian echoes towards the end; less so here in the Albert Hall, where the emphasis was on Sutherland’s individuality of utterance. The piece is interesting structurally; a trumpet/violin ‘echo’ recurs as an aural place-maker. Melodies are relatively traditional, but harmonies are not always. Despite the use of recurring material, Sutherland keeps the listener guessing as to where the music will go. She also seems to separate the brass into horns and trombones in dialogue – which worked brilliantly.
Long-lived Margaret Sutherland was born in Adelaide, attaining her Bachelor’s degree at Melbourne University in 1896. She set sail for England in 1923, ballsily approaching Arnold Bax, no less, for lessons: sheer grit and determination got them. She returned back to Australia in 1925; lateron in life, she was awarded a doctorate by her alma mater (1969), an OBE in 1970, and the Order of Australia in 1981.
Here's that ABC performance:
Sutherland: Haunted Hills. Melbourne SO / John Hopkins
Then to the next change: instead of Tchaikovsky First Concerto, the piano was removed (Batiashvili’s performance was apparently hanging in the balance at this point, according to the BBC commentary). But in the end, despite the length of the first half of the concert, it was a good move. The music is pastoral at heart, the first movement’s themes often gently skipping, the opening softly wafting (how it wafted quite so ainly I’ll never know, but it did). Pairs of woodwind in dialogue were positively delicious, and Martín ensured the music flowed perfectly. The Adagio that followed could have benefitted from more depth from the strings, but was touching and heartfelt, the many wind contributions balm to the ear.
Martín brought the Scherzo, a Furiant, firmly into the realms of the Slavonic Dance; there were moments of what I can only describe as 'fizz'. Woodwind and horn call and responses was absolutely perfectly balanced; to play at this level in adversity is so impressive. While the first violins struggled a touch in the finale with some of the composer’s writing, the sense of lush expansiveness was balm to the soul, healing, I imagine, for both players and audience. Accents were beautifully ‘nudged’; a real feeling of the composer’s Czech roots exuded.
And so to Tchaikovsky, no in post-interval space. I have despaired, previously, of Buniatishvili’s waywardness, so much so that she can appear, as I said then, ‘misaligned’ with the music (review). But with orchestra reining in too much rubato, things are on firmer soil. And Martïn is a simply wonderful collaborator, attentive at every turn. Speeds were fast here, coupled, though, with a delicate approach from Buniatishvili. She does have superb bass-end clarity (and very clean double octaves, for that matter), while he trills are to die for. There was space where space was needed; yes, occasionally it felt too indulgent so that it might grind to a halt, but those moments were few and far between.
How nice to hear the sing pizzicato at the beginning of the slow movement so clearly; representative of the care Martín, and his players lavished on their contribution. Buniatishvili’s prestidigitation has never been in doubt, and the faster section here positively sparkled. Some lovely solo contributions here from the orchestra, too, particularly the oboe and the principal cello.
The finale was I think the fastest I have heard it, ever. This was extraordinary playing, and great on-their-toes plying form the MSO. Woodwind curlicues could not really be honoured at such velocity, but his was breathtaking stuff.
To get an idea of the sheer velocity of that finale, here's a complete performance with Klaus Mäkelä at the helm (the finale starts a 28"19):
An encore, amazingly: J. S. Bach’s arrangement of a movement from an Alessandro Marcello Oboe Concerto which ended in complete silence (from BWV 974); she has recorded it as part of her Sony Classical release Labyrinth (Musicweb International review here), a typically intimate performance. Even more introspective here at the RAH, Buniatishvili moved Marcello some way further forwards than Bach had taken him, perhaps, but it certainly was calming after the fireworks of that Tchaikovsky finale. Here's the Labyrinth version.
It is difficult to know how to round off a report on a concert such as this. Musically, the revelation was the Margaret Sutherland piece, for sure; but the professionalism of all performers concerned has to be saluted.
Labyrinth is available from Amazon here; and you can download the Sutherland album from Amazon here.
