The Auckland Philharmonia Orchestra's second Thursday of Beethovenian splendour came sans prelude or overture, transporting us directly to the Olympian heights of the Emperor Concerto with pianist Bernd Glemser.
Glemser's authority was evident from his first sweep of E flat major; he rhapsodised on Beethoven's three primary chords,
noting espressivo directions as scrupulously as he would later leggiermente and sforzato moments.
Baldur Bronnimann took the same care with moulding orchestral contributions, especially in the exchanges of the Allegro's central section. Yet, for all the detail and finesse, there was never a lack of organic cohesion and dramatic momentum.
The sense of rapport in the Adagio un poco moto was palpable. Perhaps Glemser found inspiration in the rich, sensuous string introduction; the cascading triplets of his first statement dawned on our sensibilities just as Beethoven suggests they should.
The Finale also stole upon us. Glemser and Bronnimann took to its ebullient main theme with gusto, although dolce passages were as sweet as could be and orchestral repartee had wit and style.
"Ah! Perfido" is a strange beast, a concert aria that asks its distraught heroine to anguish on stage without the support of a larger theatrical context.
Morag Atchison levelled her opening accusations with fire, before finally giving in with an incandescent "Per pieta, non dirmi addio", marking her individual interpretation with a dying fall of notes on "moriro".
There were a few flurried moments when anger flared again in Allegro time, although Atchison's final plea for pity was most affecting. Baldur Bronnimann is convinced that, had the Eroica not preceded it, Beethoven's Fourth Symphony would have been an ear-opener for audiences in 1807. The truth is the latter score looks firmly forward to the world of Franz Schubert.
And so one detected a certain playfulness in Bronnimann's molto dramatico opening, until scampering woodwind and jaunty syncopations ignited the Allegro vivace.
The conductor seemed at pains to make us aware of the brusque, fanfare-like writing that sometimes competes with the Adagio's lingering song and, after the skipping Landler of the third movement, the Finale was unfettered joy.
