Thomas Guggeis

Saturday, September 27, 2025

Berliner Philharmonie, Herbert-von-Karajan-Straße, Berlin

Philharmoniker debut week for conductor and cellist, the third evening for Thomas Guggeis (born 1993) to enter with Richard Strauss’s Zarathustra and its opening ‘Sonnenaufgang’, later exiting to a rejoicing bacchanal, and also embracing Maximilian Hornung (born 1986) essaying an elusive if complex Baudelaire-poetry-inspired cello concerto.

Nietzsche’s writings brought to the concert-hall by Strauss, and diverted to the cinema by Kubrick (2001: A Space Odyssey), Zarathustra‘s Sunrise, and partials from the philosopher’s tome translated into Straussian sonics, found Guggeis (formerly an assistant to Barenboim at Staatsoper Berlin and currently Generalmusikdirektor of Oper Frankfurt) spacious but not indulgent, the dawning of a new day slightly restrained (in a good-taste way), trumpets gleaming if not over-bright, timpani strokes commanding without crudeness, setting the standard for the whole, a reading that suggested the score is in continual development rather than a series of incidents, deeply contemplative for example in the orchestral depths found in ‘Of Science’; then, fuelled by learning, taking off with a mission to accomplish (unfortunately and surprisingly there was some unkempt playing, if not for long) and cometh the ‘Dance Song’ Noah Bendix-Balgley threw his violin into the ring with flamboyance leaving Guggeis to build to the climactic ‘Song of the Night Wanderer’ with power and passion, the Midnight Bell clanging loud and clear. The remaining measures of high and low frequencies suggest a wasteland, the Why? and What’s next? well-captured here.

The other Sunrise (‘Lever du jour’) introduced the Second Daphnis Suite, a little rushed, some details not as pristinely placed as they need, although along the way there was a magical flute solo, and the ‘Danse générale’ was exciting, ending unanimously, winning an ovation.

Following the interval, Maximilian Hornung played Henri Dutilleux’s Tout un monde lointain… (A whole different world…), completed in 1970 for Rostropovich. Whether expressing dreams or reality, or phasing between the two states, is perhaps down to the individual to decide. Certainly through five movements and half-an-hour the music suggests an enchanted landscape, an ethereal place to meditate, if sometimes under threat from an active orchestra when it breaks free of raptness. Hornung (David Geringas has been one of his mentors) gave a marvellous account of the solo writing, and Guggeis went part-time baton-less (he would remain so for the Ravel, reminding there of a puppeteer) without affecting the precision of the variegated scoring if allowing a certain expressive leeway. It’s not until the final section that the tempo increases and the dynamics stay louder for a while (something of Berg’s Lulu may now be discerned) before the music returns to its distant starting point. For an encore, Hornung gave a lively outing to the ‘Prelude’ from Bach’s G-major Suite, BWV1007.