Natalie Clein
Natalie Clein

This (mostly) young orchestra returned to the Festival this year with a charming programme. Their first offering was Holst’s St. Paul’s Suite Op. 29 originally written for girls at this famous London school to play, although it sounded fiendishly difficult to me with its opening jaunty jig, strange, oriental Intermezzo and exciting Finale, the old English dance known as the Dargason with its series of whirling climaxes.

Next up was Mozart’s Adagio K411, originally written for wind instruments but here scored for strings. This brief piece is full of Mozartian tricks, by turns solemn, prayer-like and wordly, all in a too-brief space of time, performed here with charm and flair.

Natalie Clein
Natalie Clein

Haydn’s Cello Concerto in C was next featuring Natalie Clein. Her theatrical air and expression of intense suffering occasioned some comment in the rows around where I was sitting, but she gave full rein to the splendours of this piece once lost for two centuries and which displays all the virtuosity required by the Esterhazy court. The Moderato was majestic, dignified and baroque in feel with lovely violins and Ms Clein’s rich cello. In the Adagio this rich sound deepened until it throbbed with elegant melancholy before the Allegro molto which throbbed with melancholic elegance. After a brief Bach solo she was gone.

The second half featured the orchestra alone, and here Tchaikovsky’s Elegy in G major for strings was approached with the full range of this ensemble’s mature yet sensitive touch. As always Tchaikovsky’s sensitivity accessed deep feelings that catch the hearer out in surprising ways, matched here by playing which was delicate but perhaps a touch too genteel for the true depths of the music.

Mozart’s Serenade in C ended the evening, and here the orchestra took firm control from the stern opening notes of the dark-sounding Allegro with its disturbing pathos. The serene Andante and the Minuetto by turns were punctiliously performed as was the final Allegro. A stunning encore kept us (well, me) guessing as to its composer leaving the audience to give some well-deserved applause.

I enjoyed this concert on a rare, perfect Festival summer’s evening with everything in the cathedral close looking at its best, but for me its structure was all wrong. I know they’re a really nice orchestra, but why have your star, who you’ve sold the concert on quite heavily, quit at halftime – like she has to fly to Zurich or something? Is she really that busy? It may be that show business maxims don’t apply in the rarified world of classical music but I can’t help feeling many people had come to see the star and the whole evening should have been a build-up to that.

At a Sunday night concert in the late sixties the orchestra played for 45 minutes before the star appeared. I know, because Paul Gambaccini recently broadcast it in a series on great concerts, and the applause as the star eventually emerged was the roar of the Roman arena. I know Natalie Klein’s no Judy Garland, but it still seems strange to have the climax at half time. Charming, genteel, but I’m not convinced it’s always wise to leave ‘em wanting more.