Amal Choucri Catta cheers performances of both Bruckner and Handel Cairo Symphony Orchestra, cond. Steven Lloyd, Main Hall, Cairo Opera House, 18 September 9pm & Gala Concert, Cairo Opera Orchestra, cond. Nader Abbassi, Main Hall, Cairo Opera House, 21 September 9pm Cairo Opera's symphonic season opened last week with two interesting concerts: the first, performed by Cairo Symphony Orchestra under the triumphant baton of Steven Lloyd, and the second by Cairo Opera Orchestra, superbly conducted by Nader Abbassi. On Monday night Cairo symphonists dedicated the entire concert to a single work: Anton Bruckner's sixth symphony in A-major, of over sixty minutes, a rare event. Born on 4 September 1824 in Ansfelden, Austria, Anton Bruckner died on 11 October 1896 in Vienna. His work includes nine symphonies, as well as church and chamber music, several masses and pieces for the organ and piano. The young composer, son of a school teacher who was also organist and choir master, early developed a reputation for his virtuosity at the organ, especially in the art of improvisation. Following the death of his father he moved to St Florian with his mother where he entered the choir. It was following his appointment as organist at Linz Cathedral in 1854 that he began work on his most celebrated sacred motets as well as masses and embarked on the writing of symphonic music. Bruckner's nine symphonies begin quietly enough, though it is from these often nebulous sounds that the main theme emerges, either in fragments or as a great arch of melody. Even his shortest works suggest vast space, stopping often in mid-flow to allow a single chord to resonate. His melodic range was immense, and the impression of huge blocks of sound is often based on the utilisation of boldly contrasting colours. The majesty of the first movement of his sixth symphony, as well as the sorrowful tune of the oboe in the second, the adagio, which will turn eventually into a happy melody, were superbly managed. Not that Bruckner's music is invariably slow. There is nothing of the pondering in his scherzos. Filled with the Austrian rhythms of his youth, replete with gemuetlichkeit, they echo the rustic dances we would associate with a picturesque little town. Bruckner was, reportedly, an excellent dancer and regularly took to the floor until well into his sixties. Yet such bursts of liveliness had long been offset by anxiety and it was in religion and music he looked for order, the result being the soaring architecture of his symphonies. Stephen Lloyd was in admirable control, making of the entire concert a glorious occasion. The second concert took place two days later with Nader Abbassi conducting the Cairo Opera Orchestra, presenting some excellent musicians among whom, however, were a number of chatting female instrumentalists in incongruous garb who stopped talking only when the maestro appeared on stage. The first part of the programme was dedicated to Beethoven, the second to Handel's Water Music. The concert opened with Beethoven's Egmont overture, Opus 84, a well-known piece, written for Goethe's drama Egmont performed many times in this house. The orchestra began with enthusiasm The solemn opening, an omen of dark events, evocative of Count Egmont's bitter fight for independence and freedom followed by his imprisonment and death, turned into something of an event with the orchestra soaring to heights of sound. The overture was followed by Beethoven's first piano Concerto in C- major, Opus 15, often performed on the opera's main stage by local and international virtuosi. This time the piano soloist was Korina Samourkasidou, who came on with a score and page turner. She would be well advised to brush up her knowledge of Beethoven concerti. The audience's reaction was eloquent: the applause was at best polite and the pianist was not called back on stage. Neither the maestro nor the musicians could save the situation and everyone breathed a sigh of relief when it was over and the audience could turn to the second part of the concert, Handel's Water Music. Legend has it that Handel wrote the instrumental suite for a royal water party in 1715, an attempt to get back into the good graces of King George I who was Elector of Hanover when Handel had left his post as Kapellmeister at Hanover to visit England, where he eventually settled. The story, however appealing, is alas unsubstantiated. Nor does a complete original manuscript survive, the earliest editions of the Water Music appearing as instrumental arrangements. Handel was a talented adapter of established musical styles, and while the opening F-major suite has a clear French accent the succeeding movements are inimitable Handel. The political intrigues couched in the score have been well-documented; at the time King George was keen to build bridges between Hanover and England and the two were basic string band, enhanced by oboes and bassoons, the horn players brought a rigaudons of the final G-major suite: despite their French labeling, they are basically English country dances. Handel's famous commission for King George I, who it is said to have liked the piece so much that he caused it to be played over three times going and returning between Whitehall and Chelsea, has become one of the most popular musical works worldwide. At the Main Hall the soloists on the oboe, bassoon, horn, trumpet, piano and harpsichord were particularly admired. The maestro was all smiles as he and his musicians were given a standing ovation.
