Amicus Orchestra
Amicus Orchestra
Meesun Hong Coleman violin/conductor), William Coleman viola
Glasgow Royal Concert Hall New Auditorium 10/11/24
The 600-seat New Auditorium of the Glasgow Royal Concert Hall was the venue for an attractive programme of three masterworks on the late afternoon of Sunday 10th November. The Amicus Orchestra, founded in 2008 by former members of Camerata Scotland and consisting of a mix of experienced amateurs, music students and professionals, was conducted by Meesun Hong Coleman in Bartók’s ‘Romanian Folk Dances’, Martinů’s ‘Rhapsody Concerto for Viola’ (with Meesun’s husband William Coleman as soloist), and Dvořák’s Symphony No 9 ‘From the New World’.
Korean-American violinist, educator, chamber musician, and conductor Meesun Hong Coleman is a professor of violin and chamber music at the Bruckner University in Linz, as well as a guest professor of violin at the Mozarteum in Salzburg. She serves as the concertmaster of the Potsdam Chamber Academy and the Haydn Philharmonic and is a member of the Camerata Bern, where she also acts as a guest conductor and regular soloist. Scottish audiences may be familiar with her directing and playing with the Scottish Chamber Orchestra.
The original 1915 version of Bartók’s ‘Romanian Folk Dances’ was a short set of piano pieces based on Roma melodies gathered by Bartók in Transylvania as part of his ethnomusicological work, at a time before the region ceased to be part of Hungary. Bartók himself made an arrangement for small orchestra; there is a version for string orchestra by Arthur Willner and a virtuosic version for violin and piano by Zoltán Székely. What we heard was a version for solo violin and string orchestra, which I imagine is a hybrid of the Willner and Székely versions. Meesun Hong Coleman played the solo part while directing the Amicus Orchestra. With 6 cellos and 5 double basses, there is a fullness to the bass string sound of the orchestra, supported by the surprisingly good acoustic of the barnlike New Auditorium. With the audience in the tiered bleachers and the orchestra at floor level, there was a sense of being close to the musicians and surrounded by the sound, nourishing hopes for the big orchestral sound of the Dvořák. The Bartók, a favourite of mine, received a characterful and convincing performance. I have a particular fondness for the Middle-Eastern sound of the third dance and it was pretty well perfect.
Winds, horns and trumpets joined the strings, and Meesun returned sans violin, but with baton and violist husband. William Coleman is professor of viola and chamber music at the Universität Mozarteum Salzburg and violist of the Kuss Quartet, with many other roles. This was a first hearing for me of the Martinů 1952 ‘Rhapsody Concerto’ and it is a gem. There are two movements, the second the longer of the two. Both are rhapsodic and episodic, eschewing sonata form, with a wealth of folklike melodies and that unique Martinů phenomenon of a lyrical phrase ending in an unexpected yet heartwarming cadence. Metre also was flexible, triple time giving way to cut common and march tempo, amongst other transitions. The contrasts broadened with the multi-section second movement, a slow tread becoming richly contrapuntal and more con moto and expressive, before a bold cadenza for the soloist. An unmistakable 20th-century brisk and rhythmically adventurous firedance followed, the side drum joining the texture. After a big climax, the timpani and side drum together tried to force the pace, but the solo viola dragged it back for a lovely conversation with the clarinets. Taps on the side drum and glowing major chords closed the piece. This performance convinced me that there is a gap in my CD collection – and I have a lot of Martinů, but definitely room for one more.
Husband and wife returned with their instruments for a surprise encore; more Martinů: the third of the 1947 ‘3 Madrigals for Violin and Viola’. Hints of Bohemian melody, but very 20th-century, rapid thrilling crosstalk, with a slower central section and a syncopated race to the finish. Absolutely superb. And yes, another gap in my collection.
In 1984, I had joined the second violins of the Dublin Orchestral Players and was rehearsing a programme which included Dvořák’s Symphony No.8, so I know what a thrill it is to play in a Dvořák symphony, though a job offer in Wiltshire meant that I never played it in the concert. It was abundantly clear that the musicians of the Amicus Orchestra were experiencing that same thrill and, as I had anticipated, the proximity of the audience to the players and the acoustic of the New Auditorium contributed to drawing the audience into the shared experience. One particularly nice touch worthy of mention in the first movement was the significant relaxation of the tempo for the lovely G-major flute solo that introduces the third theme (reminiscent of ‘Swing Low, Sweet Chariot’), honouring the exposition repeat (so that we hear it again) and giving it to the other flautist in the recapitulation, sharing the joy democratically. In the slow movement, everybody’s favourite cor anglais solo was nicely introduced by warm brass chording, the oboe melody in the agitated minor-key central section no less touching. The string pianissimi towards the end were exquisite. Another lovely relaxation of tempo for the trio of the third movement allowed the clarinets to coo like the pigeons in Spillville, Iowa, hinting at the composer’s joy at finding a Czech community there, and his homesickness for Bohemia in the middle of a scherzo that paints an otherwise admiring picture of a boldly thrusting industrial democracy. The finale was not played attacca, as it often is, but it was characterful with that same brash boldness at first, a nice clarinet solo to introduce the second theme, reminiscences quoting the previous movements and the bittersweet wistfulness of the final moments before the final declamatory passage and the glowing but enigmatic diminuendo that concludes the work. As a performance, it wasn’t ‘perfect’. More than one reed instrument struggled with a recalcitrant squeaky reed, a horn failed to ‘speak’ (as the instrument is wont to do) and the start of the scherzo was not fully together, for example. None of this mattered. The performance was involving and committed and gave pleasure in huge measure.
That acknowledged, the highlight of the afternoon for this reviewer was the Martinů ‘madrigal’ violin/viola duo, bursting with persuasive musicality.