Berthold Goldschmidt Deux Nocturnes (1996) World premiere

Rosemary Hardy

Jiri Behlolavek, conductor
BBC Symphony Orchestra

Goldschmidt's Deux Nocturnes for soprano and orchestra was completed near
the end of his life, in a period in which he composed around French themes
and personal memories of events in France. The programme notes that he
titled his 1995 work for violin and orchestra Rondeau: Rue de Rocher after
the restaurant where he met the violinist Chantal Juillet the year before,
and where 65 years before that he had met the playwright Fernand
Crommelynck to discuss adapting the latter's play into Der gewaltigte
Hanhnerei.

Deux Nocturnes is a setting of two contrasting French poems, and seems to
take its name from the theme of darkness, with flashes of light, in both
texts, certainly not from the form of the piece.

Judith is baroque sonnet of 1647 depicting Judith as she approaches
Holofernes to kill him, in a manner remniscent of paintings of the same
scene. Holofernes lies in the darkness, with the last embers of a torch
alight; Judith's beauty is concealed in the darkness, but could flash out
at any moment, lit up by the sword she holds. Her good angel, her inner
monologue in this setting, steels her for the deed, reminding her that
Holofernes is already her captive, already as good as dead, from drink and
desire for her. The setting uses austere but striking orchestral colours,
and focusses on the words tu vas tuer un mort, which are worked out to a
fierce coloratura climax, like a demented version of the chief of secret
police, before a more measured conclusion as she becomes more assured
again. An opera in a sonnet.

Rondel, by Tristan Corbieres, was written in 1873. This really is a rondel,
and reads like a more whimsical example of the poems in Pierrot Lunaire. It
evokes the image of a child, thief of sparks, suggestive of though never
explicitly Eros, who darts about in the darkness tormenting love poets, and
lovers. The setting matches the oblique technique of the text, flashing and
tingling, ending in a vocal shower of sparks for the final repetition of
the words enfant, voleur d'etincelles.

Deux Nocturnes is a well-crafted, beautifully balanced work of a slightly
old-fashioned kind, similar in technique to Britten's earlier poetry
settings, but more immediately enjoyable and engaging, particular in this
fine performance by Rosemary Hardy. I can't help feeling angry that
Goldschmidt wasn't performed, and as a result stopped composing, at a time
when a work like this would have been on the cutting edge and would have
had the chance to contribute to his own development as a composer as well
as to the musical environment.

The other works in this concert also had pictorial aspects, which could
have made for a very conventional evening. But Jiri Behlolavek is the main
man for Martinu, and directed the BBC Symphony Orchestra in a gorgeously
coloured but disciplined performance of The frescoes of Piero della
Francesca. With violinist Frank Peter Zimmerman, they also delivered a rich
and ungushy Mendelssohn Violin Concerto which could have been one of
Korngold's swashbuckling film scores at times. This was such a pleasant
surprise that I didn't ship out for La Mer (as usual conveniently placed
last), but even Behlolavek couldn't rescue it for me.

The late-night prom included a performance of Pierrot Lunaire by Christine
Schaefer, with the Scharoun Ensemble, Berlin, conducted by Daniel Harding.
Schaefer and the Ensemble Scharoun delivered both the technical
explorations and the strange mood in style.

Both Harding and Schaefer are very small and looked like thirteen-year-olds
dressed up in miniature adult clothes, which I found oddly moving, and also
a little disconcerting. Schaefer was a bruised, opaque, clearly abused Lulu
in the Glyndebourne production three years ago. Here she could have been
Lulu (or Jodie Foster in Taxi Driver) having made it in the theatre, still
looking vulnerable but with a hard edge that might be Pierrot's madness or
complete detachment masked by detailed technical control.

The Ensemble Scharoun, with whom he also performed Schoenberg's Chamber
Symphony No. 1, seemed to love Harding, as did the audience.