I get a kick from listening to new compositions, and attending an orchestral concert of no less than seven new works by young composers performed by the Malta Philharmonic Orchestra at the Manoel Theatre is irresistible.
Sadly there were not too many people in the audience on February 18; maybe under the circumstances the seat prices should have been reduced.
All seven compositions performed under the baton of Andre Paul Huber and Michelle Castelletti had their merits and demerits, and of course, some were better than others; however, overall I was impressed at the high level.
I have my reservations about the conductors. First of all I belong to the school of thought that believes conductors should not direct their own compositions and leave it to others to bring out the best in them.
I also feel the direction of a more experienced conductor may have made a radical difference to the reading of some of the more unsatisfactory works on the night.
Of the two, Huber almost but not quite knocked both these theories to oblivion. His conducting was masterful and if it was just a trifle cold and analytical his particular composition entitled Meine Liebe was admirably suited to this particular temperament.
It was the soundest and most interesting composition performed that evening. Very daringly, Huber used the 12-tone scale, which with the advent of minimalism one could be forgiven into thinking had gone the way of the dodo. I am not over- fond of the 12-tone scale, however malgre moi I was entranced by Meine Liebe, a beautifully wrought nocturne that was full of orchestral quirkiness that downplayed a deep stratum of romanticism.
The other composition that was worth writing home about was Veronique Vella’s Ritratti for Piano and Orchestra, which was the only work wherein artistic conciseness was whittled down to an etching. All four movements were deftly orchestrated and elegantly fashioned.
However, what I found lacking was emotion, and as Vella played the piano part that could have been the cause. Unfortunately, although she is a gifted composer she is no concert pianist, and her interpretation was wooden and cold, and at times it wasn’t even inaudible, drowned out by the orchestra under Castelletti’s baton.
This could have been caused by three things; the dynamics demanded by the score, the conducting or the pianism, or a bit of all three. A more sensitive and mote balanced performance would have probably worked wonders.
What was common to all the other five compositions was their inordinate lengthiness. The tendency to overwork thematic material and to avoid following the time-honoured rules of harmony to boot is not a good combination.
The orchestration was also rendered unimaginative because of the amount of repeats.
Many times the music could have been a wannabe film score taken from some Cecil B de Mille or Star Wars.
I can understand these young composers falling in love with their work and not being able to leave well alone. I find that sometimes even more mature ones fall into the same trap. When music is overworked it becomes unpalatable.
There was on the other hand, plenty of excellent thematic material and some excellent work, however, overall the tendency to repeat unnecessarily and open up new thematic adventures before the last one had resolved created a Kyrie Eleison (Paul Portelli) that because of its inordinate length and obstinate refusal to resolve would have rendered an entire mass that would have outdone even Bach’s B Minor one in sheer length.
Mauro Farrugia’s Gaia, with its very pleasant orchestration and good development was caught in a 1950s time warp, while Marcos Fernandez’s Journey for Orchestra meandered rather aimlessly in a form that was too loose to be memorable, which however, was not without some very romantic moments.
Steven Joseph Psaila’s Whispering Winds were anything but and degenerated into a rather Darth Vader-ish conclusion, which was a very far cry from the susurrations one would have expected.
Alastair Attard’s Impressions had the occasional inspired moment, like the pizzicato ostinato passage reminiscent of Bartok’s Music for Strings Percussion and Celesta, but intellectually it seemed to start nowhere, went everywhere, and mostly gyrated around in different guises and dynamics full of sound and fury signifying nothing much.