This fall I heard two very different conductors who put the stamp of their own personalities on their performances. Both concerts – one led by Valery Gergiev and the other by Michael Tilson Thomas – were generally successful in their own, distinctive ways, underscoring the remarkable versatility of this orchestra.

Last May, the LSO players bravely chose Gergiev as their Principal Conductor of the LSO, following the departure of Sir Colin Davis. (Gergiev is keeping his jobs with the Kirov, Rotterdam and the Met, of course.) In his first appearance since his appointment, he proved that he can make the LSO his orchestra, when he puts his mind to it.

However, a strong sense of leadership was not initially apparent. The opening work, Schumann’s Cello Concerto, heard in a rarely played arrangement by Shostakovich, featured Johannes Moser as soloist. Gergiev ceded much artistic control to the German cellist – a gracious but ill-advised gesture, as things turned out. Although a technically accomplished player, Moser failed to rise to the occasion, offering a superficially dramatic yet uninspired performance.

Things were different, though, for Shostakovich’s Symphony No. 8. From the work’s eerily unsettled opening, Gergiev was firmly in control, thoughtfully molding the music with his bare hands. The orchestra leapt to attention with a searing performance: the strings writhed like a living creature, the woodwinds were a riot of color, and the brass and percussion raged through climaxes that threatened to tear the roof off (no mean feat in the Barbican). Together, Gergiev and the LSO reveled in the dark grandeur of this monumental work – but the performance was also refined in its intimate moments, such as the haunting English horn in the first movement, or the ironic trumpet solo in the third.

Michael Tilson Thomas has had a long association with the LSO, serving as Principal Conductor from 1899 to 1995, and currently holding the title of Principal Guest Conductor. On November 10 he led the orchestra like a trusted old friend, in an all-Tchaikovsky program. Under his baton, things got off to a good start with an engaging reading of the Storm Overture Op. 76.

Vadim Repin was the evening’s guest soloist, and he and Thomas collaborated in a refreshing performance of the Violin Concerto in D Op. 85. Repin’s tone was as bright as the sun, and his cadenzas were astonishing. But there was also interpretive depth, especially in the second movement. He and Thomas were reading from the same page, and the conductor used his orchestra to highlight Repin’s wide-ranging ideas.

But it was in the Manfred Symphony that Thomas really shone. His was a full-blooded interpretation: the first and last movements were lively and powerful, and the inner movements were warm and introspective. Particularly impressive was the fugato in the finale, with its clear and decisive entries, and its relentless drive towards the movement’s conclusion.

It’s hardly "scientific" to draw broad conclusions about an orchestra when comparing one conductor’s Shostakovich with another’s Tchaikovsky. But a few points can, I think, be made. When Gergiev was in clearly charge of things, the LSO played with an exciting edge all the time. The Russian conductor’s intensity was clearly contagious, and the musicians reacted accordingly. Thomas could draw intensity from the band when he wanted to, but at other times he chose to take a more relaxed approach. Again, the LSO musicians responded to their leader’s wishes, luxuriating in their own warmth.

Some people think that a truly great orchestra must have a distinctive "sound." But there’s much to be said for the LSO’s virtuosic ability to support a variety of interpretative approaches. And in this age of musical specialization, it’s an increasingly rare trait.

© Copyright Colin Eatock 2006

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