Thursday, August 30, 2025
Royal Albert Hall, London
The first of the two L’Arlésienne Suites, with an expanded ensemble from Bizet’s original theatre score, was delivered with affection and dynamism, very smart, an expressive saxophone solo (Martin Robertson) at the heart of the first movement, soul-baring, too. The ‘Minuetto’ was given time to be crisply rhythmic without being literal, the ‘Adagietto’ intimate, and the ‘Carillon’ bounced with vitality, the middle section heartfelt. It seems that the young Marie Jacquot, born 1990, had designs on being a professional tennis-player until music redefined her life, aged ten, in an instance (for me, too, life-changing in a few seconds, a demon let loose). And then further Bizet, from Carmen, Pablo de Sarasate’s showpiece compilation for virtuoso violinists, here competition-winner Inmo Yang (a little younger than Marie, born 1995), not rushing the technical hurdles, or intimidated by them, displaying poise in one hit operatic tune after the other, musicianship before showmanship, and collegiately accompanied. It was a brief appearance, supplemented by an unaccompanied Kreisler encore, but an impressive one.
Andromède (1883) by Augusta Holmès (1847-1903) opened part two, sea-monsters and winged-horses, Andromeda rescued from Poseidon’s punishment by Perseus – a Greek tale translated into orchestral terms (including two harps and two sets of timpani) with imagination, if falling away towards the end, by Irish-French Holmès. Wagner is cited as a general influence on her music, no doubt true, but in the case of Andromède it had me thinking of the Overture to Chabrier’s Gwendoline.
Introducing his two-movement C-minor Third Symphony (in fact his fifth and final such work), Saint-Saëns simply advised that the opus is “with organ” – it is not a concerto for it, merely one instrument out of many, and anyway the organ is heard in only the final stages of both parts, collectively a masterpiece of transforming just a couple of ideas, superbly orchestrated. Jacquot’s approach was a little breathless in the first section, if played gamely, the second part spaciously shaped and rarefied, religioso, the now-heard organ (Rachel Mahon, Coventry Cathedral) quietly supportive. The other movement introduces a piano (two hands, four later) in scherzo-like material and a spectral ‘trio’ deftly articulated here. The transition to the stately ultimate section was well-managed, and once arrived there the ten-thousand-minus-one pipes of the RAH organ blazed majestically, just avoiding being too loud, and so it remained until the end, effectively broadened by Jacquot, if Mahon threatening then to be over-dominant to dwarf the timpani. Nevertheless, worst decibel fears didn’t materialise, close though.
https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/m002hc46