Young Conductors’ Showcase
City Halls, Glasgow, 20/06/25
BBCSSO, Martyn Brabbins (presenter), Jacobus De Jager, Rhys Herbert, Jess Hoskins, Jasper Lecon, Sam Scheer, Kateryna Shvets (conductors), Rudi de Groote (cello)
Whilst the Thursday night City Halls 2024-25 series of concerts concluded in May, the BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra have had a few more baskets of goodies to offer, none more so than the afternoon of Friday 20th June, when long-time friend of the orchestra and Visiting Professor of Conducting at the Royal Conservatoire of Scotland, Martyn Brabbins, introduced a programme showcasing emerging conducting talent from the UK and beyond. He mentioned how this was the 4th year of the Conductors’ Showcase event, how no orchestra does more for nurturing conducting talent than the BBCSSO (going on to mention nonetheless the sterling work of the Orchestra of Scottish Opera, the Royal Scottish National Orchestra and the Scottish Chamber Orchestra), how he himself had learned so much from his time conducting them in the 1990s and considers them a remarkable group of musicians (at the risk of letting slip the façade of impartiality, I must agree). Despite very modest attendance, there was something of a holiday atmosphere in the hall, no doubt due in part to the fine summer weather of the day, but also this was the last engagement of the orchestra before their summer break and, for one of their number, his final concert pre-retirement with the band. A helium balloon bearing a well-wishing message floated tethered to the music stand of double-bassist Paul Speirs. Associate leader Kanako Ito led.
The concert opened with Jonathan Harvey’s 1999 piece, ‘Tranquil Abiding’, under the baton of the first of two London-based conductors, Jess Hoskins, currently completing their Masters in Orchestral Conducting at the Royal Academy of Music. In a first hearing for me, the piece conveyed a serenity of ebb-and-flow on different timescales from breathing to tidal movement, expressing the composer’s affinity with Buddhist sensibilities, also manifested materially in the use of gongs, bells, bowls and bamboo rattles in the scoring. Despite the illusion of seeking to attain simplicity, this is a score with complexities to be navigated (such as mood-shifting Sibelian harmonies), as well as beauties to be revealed (such as Messiaen-like emulation of birdsong). Jess awarded the piece the utmost advocacy, with the BBCSSO equally committed and fully “in the zone”. Jess’ movements combined fluidity with precision, with clarity always accessible in peripheral vision, essential when tackling a complex unfamiliar piece. Full marks from me – I was captivated by the piece and its realisation.
I first heard Saint-Saëns’ Cello Concerto No.1 in a live performance in the mid-1970s with Irish cellist Aisling Drury Byrne and the RTESO (as they were then called) in the unlikely venue of (granite-rebuilt after a disastrous fire) St Michael's Church, Dún Laoghaire, whose (then new) Rieger organ featured magnificently in the same composer’s Symphony No.3 after the interval. An unforgettable concert (as I have just demonstrated), while the concerto has remained a firm favourite ever since. I will neither confirm nor deny whether naming my eldest daughter Aisling has any relevance to the anecdote. I might add that Shostakovich, himself the composer of two fine cello concerti, considered the Saint-Saëns No.1 to be the greatest cello concerto in the repertoire. We heard the BBCSSO’s principal cellist Rudi de Groote, conducted by the other London-based young conductor, Sam Scheer, in his final post-graduate year at the Royal College of Music. An impressive list of master classes attended include Sir Andrew Davis, Martyn Brabbins, Vasily Petrenko and Sakari Oramo, while he has also been Assistant to Sir Antonio Pappano. That special magic, that can happen when an orchestral principal plays a concerto with their own orchestra, happened. Sam facilitated this at every turn, preserving flawless dynamic balance (credit where due also to Saint-Saëns’ writing), maintaining the impassioned urgency of the romantic passages but relaxing the tempo for tender dialogue and mutually responsive phrasing between the soloist and orchestral winds. A-minor tension in the outer movements contrasted beautifully with the sweet elegance of the B-flat major of the central minuet with its lyrical cadenza. Sunny A-major in the coda to remind us it was summer. Everything you could hope for in the concerto. It’s still a favourite, with one more perfect reading to add to the tally.
I have commented before on the irrepressible life-affirming good humour of this orchestra and the mischievous exchange of seemingly random quotations between wind and brass players in the moments before the conductor(s) emerge(s) for the second half of a concert, and on this occasion it went into overdrive. Phrases from Stravinsky’s ‘Petrushka’ and ‘Firebird’, Mahler 1 and 5, Brahms’ Hungarian Dance No.5 and Debussy’s ‘Syrinx’ were traded gleefully, ramping up the holiday atmosphere and reminding me (as if it were necessary) of why I love this orchestra.
The remaining 4 young conductors took one movement each of Brahms’ Symphony No.4, in what Martyn Brabbins whimsically termed a ‘Baton Relay’. Rhys Herbert, cellist and conductor from South Wales and a graduate of the Royal Welsh College of Music, took the first movement. I last heard the BBCSSO in this symphony, probably my favourite of the 4, back in October under Elim Chan, and I can honestly say that Rhys’ reading of the first movement was just as compelling. His physical movements were subtle and sparing and I did wonder about the clarity of his beat, but the proof of the pudding is in the eating and, as I lost myself in the ingeniously-wrought development section of the first movement, I realised that the honing of the interpretation had been thorough in rehearsals and he was letting them play, and play they did. As with Chan, the leisurely tempo allowed unforced candour and precision in the expression, while the orchestra responded with playing that delivered an open texture perfectly matched to the acoustic of their City Halls home. The E-minor tension was recurringly gripping and dramatic, especially in the stormy anguished coda. The sense of mystery at the end of the development before the recapitulation was perfect. The cellos in particular played their hearts out for a fellow cellist. Super.
Kateryna Shvets, a graduate (in Choral Conducting) of the Odessa National Academy of Music in Ukraine, is currently studying Orchestral Conducting at the Vienna University of Music and Performing Arts (although she is already an international prize-winner in Orchestral Conducting – Caspi Art, Turkey 2019). Her considerable skillset was perfectly matched to the second movement, one of Brahms’ most lyrical and sensitive to voicing and juxtaposition of instrumental timbres, with horns, cellos, clarinets, violins and violas having particularly delicious opportunities to sing. After horns and winds sing a psalm, the strings turn it into a declaration of romantic devotion. A great cello melody follows, often mischievously lyricised by envious non-cellists as: “Little boy kneels at the foot of the stairs; Christopher Robin is saying his prayers”. The violins have no excuse: they get to play it sul-G later in the movement. Kateryna realised to the full the modal tenderness of the movement. It was magical.
Young German conductor Jasper Lecon, who studied conducting, music education and mathematics in Karlsruhe and Mannheim (as a mathematical physicist with a music obsession, I love the academic freedom of German universities), is currently continuing his studies at the Royal Northern College of Music in Manchester. He has an impressive CV of competition successes, guestships, assistantships and masterclasses as well as a growing reputation for artistic innovation. Although I suspect neither composer would thank me for the comparison, the Scherzo of Brahms 4 is like that of Tchaikovsky 6, an exuberant, jubilant holiday from the angst that will return with a vengeance in the finale. The holiday atmosphere was already in the hall and in the orchestra, ready to be captured and released with glee. It was not to be. Jasper’s reading was driven and way too fast. As a result, any rejoicing seemed forced and insincere, more like Mussorgsky at his most sardonic or Shostakovich at his most ironic than Brahms mischievously letting his hair down. There was no let-up, even for the playful second theme (“All things bright and beautiful”) or the false Trio. It wasn’t Brahms. It was brutal.
For the mighty Passacaglia finale, young South African conductor Jacobus De Jager took the podium, reasserting the gravitas, endowing each variation with individual character, while sustaining the E-minor dramatic tension and underlying melancholy, supported by phenomenal playing from the orchestra. Jacobus is currently completing his MMus in Conducting at the Royal Conservatoire of Scotland under Martyn Brabbins and Michael Bawtree. His CV is rich in international competition success, engagements with almost all the major Scottish orchestras and ensembles and masterclasses with Marin Alsop, Paavo, Neeme and Kristjan Järvi, Thomas Søndergård, John Wilson, Ryan Bancroft, Sian Edwards, Antony Hermus, Stuart Stratford, Michalis Economou, and Arjan Tien. Among the variations that stood out, Brontë Hudnotts’ sobbing flute was excellent, though a wee bit more help for the violins to tease out a hesitant tenuto or two would have intensified the pathos. The chorale of three trombones was heartstoppingly [CT1] lovely. When the storm returned, the sense of inexorability was built wonderfully, the hope of a ‘happy ending’ was snatched away and the drive to the grim conclusion was magnificent. A super conclusion.
With such a treasure trove of talent, not without some rough diamonds, coming into their prime, the future of live symphonic music is assured. Conductors’ Showcase remains a lovely way to spend a Friday afternoon.