LPO soloists at the Cambridge Union

Soloists of the London Philharmonic Orchestra

Sunday 15 May, Cambridge Union Society Debating Chamber

[rating:4.5/5]

It was in this historic chamber only a few days ago that, with the help of Stephen Fry, classical music was proven relevant by theory. Whatever that actually means, the soloists of the London Philharmonic Orchestra demonstrated the sheer wonder this old music can still incite in practice.

Fry’s pearls of wisdom last Thursday included the observation that listening to a concerto mirrors the struggle between the individual and society. Mozart’s Horn Quintet in E flat major, as a kind of ‘mini-concerto’, took this analogy into the playground. John Ryan’s pure horn tone stood out against the scratchy texture of bowed strings and shone as the protagonist in this extra-musical folly. The strings supported and imitated our young hero but, as if in a childhood game, he was teased and tripped (in the best of humour, of course). The horn finally triumphed with an outstanding cadenza. Ryan’s impressive dynamic control and range easily made up for some blaring moments in the lower register. The slight tendency for languishing in the slower sections was discarded as the excitement of the last movement took hold of the ensemble in an arresting way.

The sextet that followed is taken from Richard Strauss’s opera Capriccio. The piece espouses music’s dominance against words in a battle which the opera concerns itself with, a battle lent irony by our location; between walls soaked with the words and arguments of almost two hundred years of debates. The music was brimming with expression and, although the beginning became mushy in the acoustic, proceeding sections avoided this with exact and virtuosic playing. Kristina Blaumane’s silky smooth tone persuasively floated above the rest of the ensemble. Whatever the dichotomy between words and music, as the last chord died out, no words were possible.

Schubert’s C major Quintet was the centre piece of the concert and its quality attested to this fact. The ensemble’s tight rhythm, perfect intonation and dynamic control left the audience basking in Schubert’s lyrical landscapes. The players created excellent dialogue, but also got stuck into the exciting moments, from stormy C minor passages to the Hungarian darkness of the last movement. The stately rhythms of the violins kept a check on the potential slushiness of a beautiful cello duet, adding a dose of necessary humility to the otherwise self-indulgent proceedings. The accuracy of the playing was formidable and, after the coda’s dash to the finish, the players were called back several times to rapturous applause.

With a programme spanning the last three centuries, perhaps this was a vindication for classical music. Yet, whatever I, or Stephen Fry, say, we will never match up to this music. I looked around at the famous speakers on the walls and saw nothing. The audience was wowed with sound and we responded with equal volume using our percussive appendages: words had no place here.