Concert Review: Cellist takes concerto out of this world

German conductor Eckehard Stier. Photo / Supplied

What: Auckland Philharmonia Orchestra
Where: Auckland Town Hall
Reviewer: William Dart

The title of Auckland Philharmonia Orchestra's concert, Out of This World, hinted at Dutilleux's Tout un monde lointain that was on the bill; but it also nailed, in just four words, the APO's trademark programming savvy.

It was back to the 18th century for openers, with Baroque flourishings courtesy of the Overture to Bach's third orchestral suite. Conductor Eckehard Stier ensured everything was idiomatic and zesty, oboes and trumpets standing behind the strings, adding pungency and brilliance to the occasion.

German cellist Nicolas Altstaedt told us later that the Dutilleux Concerto was a premiere for all concerned, as it must have been for many in the audience, and perhaps this brought freshness and adrenalin to the performance.

We were taken on an exquisitely charted voyage into the French composer's dreamworld of dreams. The concert-hall perspective put Dutilleux's orchestral palette into sharp register, from whispering percussion to the unbridled fervour of its Finale.

The finesse and finishing astounded; Altstaedt's poignant sky-high melodies remained with me on my own more mundane voyage home, as did memories of the kinetic energy and unerring accuracy of his double-stopping.

Alongside him, the players caught the subtle merge-and-share that this score encourages, particularly in the spare textures introducing its third movement.

As an encore, Altstaedt coaxed concertmaster Andrew Beer to join him in plucking the fragile minute of Sibelius' Opus 1.

The cellist's evening was not over, joining the orchestra after interval for Stier's blistering account of Shostakovich's Fifth Symphony.

This, along with Beethoven and Mahler, is one of the great Fifths, deeply charged with the political pressures that would turn Shostakovich into the premier tightrope-artist of his time.

Emotional tension was visible when Stier raised his baton and fuelled gnarly rhetoric, radiant and unsettling tunefulness along with a caustic march.

The Scherzo dealt out heavy, rustic ironies, tongue firmly in cheek for the wry Stravinsky-like interlude; the brutal landmine of a Finale left more questions unanswered than it answered, as it should.

In between, Shostakovich's Largo, permitted to bloom without self-indulgence, achieved the blend of reflection and passion that is the mark of his greatness.