SYDNEY SYMPHONY ORCEHSTRA: Turangalîla-Symphonie

November 21st 2019 – Sydney Opera House, Sydney NSW

★★★★☆
My first visit to the Sydney Opera House was one that had me shivering with excitement. After
witnessing the sheer glory of Olivier Messiaen’s immense Turangalîla-Symphonie at Melbourne’s Hamer
Hall with the Australian World Orchestra (2017) under the baton of Simone Young, who brought
powerful contrast to the colourful menagerie of music that lay before her, I was ecstatic to attend my
second viewing of the colossal work. This time, the Sydney Symphony Orchestra, led by David
Robertson, whose distinct style provided a nice point of difference for me as an audience member.
Having not even reached the age of 20 and now seen Turangalîla twice in two of Australia’s finest
venues, I had much to contemplate.

I would love to first acknowledge the two soloists; Tengku Irfan on piano and Jacob Abela on the ‘ondes
martenot’ – the latter of which I’ve now had the pleasure of seeing perform in this role twice, both times
with astonishing conviction and poise around the complexity of the ‘ondes’.

Irfan showed great virtuosity in tackling the fiendish solo piano part, delivering the passion and
intensity Messiaen desired in the music as well as the delicate contrasts. In my cynical ways, at times
there was a lack of contrast in certain cadenzas, however not to say that they were performed with any
less technical brilliance as the rest, but occasionally seemed a little too hurried, not allowing space for
contemplation of the vast palette of colours at hand.

Abela’s performance, as I recalled before, was incredibly stylish. Adorned in a fitting costume that
suited the unique quirk of his instrument and the symphony’s general state, the ‘ondes’ was certainly
in the hands of a well formed ‘ondist’. Capturing the mystic, yet somewhat voice-like character of the
instrument is no mean feat, and Jacob performed with flying colours, engaging the audience and
ensemble with the beauty of the ‘ondes’ varied sound capabilities.

The orchestra under Robertson’s baton, whilst powering through the extremes of Messiaen’s
convoluted and occasionally trivial writing with genuine composure and exceptional tenacity, seemed
to lack dimensions of dynamic and textural balance, as well as some choices of tempo that lacked
variety. Robertson quite fittingly captured in his opening remarks the ‘excessive’ nature of Turangalîla,
but I found I was generally underwhelmed with the extent of this ‘excess’ that was explored and
exploited throughout the entire performance – I longed to feel the polarising contrast of each section.

Though the acoustics of the Opera House are unforgiving; hence the elaborate entourage of
amplification – which sadly detracted from the orchestra’s presence – I still found that certain sections
of the orchestra were unconvincing in their delivery of certain parts, and occasionally were
unsynchronised with both Robertson, the soloists and/or the ensemble itself; on a micro scale. Not to
say that the music’s extremes are easily surmounted, but occasionally I was slightly unimpressed by
particular important sections that lacked presence or clarity. I also come back to the point of
hurriedness, where certain points – in particular the ‘Theme of Love’ that is first shown in the fourth
movement – was not held in suspense long enough, and felt glossed over. Not to say that the
performance was by any stretch unsatisfactory, far from it in fact, but occasionally displayed elements
of ham-fistedness.

Particular highlights would include the fiery Introduction, which started the evening with a bang. The
Piccolo and Bassoon duet at the beginning of the fourth movement; a particular favourite section of
mine, showcased a quaint and playful element amid the moodiness of the first half of the work. Though
the density of musical colour displayed throughout the first half did occasionally lack depth, as
previously discussed, from the sixth movement onwards, a sudden warmth and life was breathed back
into the orchestra, which allowed for the second half to soar. Robertson’s clear affinity with the Eighth
movement rose the mentality of the orchestra – and no matter my conflicting opinion on the movement,
it was performed with astonishing character on everyone’s behalf. And of course, the fifth and tenth
movements shone with the bright lights of American influence as well as representing the divinity and
latent eroticism of the symphony.

Overall, an iridescent display of the meeting-point of the traditional and avant-garde by one of the
greats of the 20th Century, performed with great calibre by all. It was worth the trip up from Melbourne,
and the experience of seeing the titanic Turangalîla live again. I await it’s return to Australian concert
halls in the, hopefully, near future.

Sean X. Quinn – 23rd of November, 2019 ©