This Friday morning Tea and Symphony concert transported its audience to Middle Europe, Bohemia and the Balkans in the form of György Ligeti’s Romanian Concerto and Dvořák’s Eighth Symphony.

Ligeti’s Romanian Concerto is a world away from his more avant-garde scores like Atmosphères and Lontano. The piece, in four short movements, is not really a conventional concerto in that there is no solo instrument, but it occasionally breathes the same Magyar paprika tang as Bartók’s Concerto for Orchestra (especially in the whirlwind finale). Ligeti was born in an ethnic Hungarian enclave of Romania’s Transylvania.

Umberto Clerici and the Sydney Symphony Orchestra Photo © Cassandra Hannagan

It had been a while since I’d heard the SSO live and, from the first note of this concert, conducted by their former principal cellist and now chief conductor of the Queensland Symphony Orchestra, Umberto Clerici, I was impressed with their fine fettle.

If ever there were a symphony which almost entirely occupied the ‘sunlit uplands’, it’s surely Dvořák’s Eighth, and this performance captured perfectly its meadow-scented, alfresco charm, especially in the bucolic first two movements of what surely must be the composer’s most Czech symphony.

The introduction was not too portentous and the opening Allegro took flight beautifully. The gorgeous woodwind filigree later in the movement was just one showcase of what a fine instrument the SSO has become.

The second movement was equally beautifully poised, with the cloud-across-the-sun effect before the ravishing second subject, another lovely woodwind dialogue, a couple of stylishly discreet portamenti and a mid-movement climax perfectly calibrated.

The third movement was a real break with the past: instead of a furious furiant-style scherzo, Dvořák composed a flowing dumka, with a delightfully pointed waltz trio and syncopated accompaniment – wistful rather than boisterous.

The variations of the final movement, which can often seem stop-and-go, were well integrated, especially in the last three so-called ‘lazy’ variations, which can often seem becalmed in the wrong hands. The SSO brass brayed in the magnificently raucous climax.

What really distinguished this performance was sheer excitement and a vital sense of flow, a function of rhythmically characterful phrasing allied to ideally transparent textures.

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