41: Concert Three
For reasons I will explain in post 43 I was not able to attend the final concert. Robert Gay, very kindly, has written the following for this blog.
Third performance – 11 September 2009, 11am
It is perhaps not a surprise to say that the last performance of a new work is likely to be the best. This was the case at the third performance of Christopher’s new work, which I had commissioned with three friends about eighteen months ago. Lightfall sounded relaxed and confident, and almost like a familiar and established piece from the contemporary repertoire. It was also the fifth time I had heard the work – two rehearsals and three performances – so I am beginning to know it, and to look forward to certain sections and certain effects in this very original ‘concerto for horn and orchestra’. I should also say that I was sitting in a great seat in the centre of the stalls – arguably ‘the best seat in the house’ – much better than the seat I had for the premiere in the front Dress Circle (or whatever it’s called in the Concert Hall), where the sound was generally poor and the subtleties and beauties of the work were less than well served by the hall’s very problematic acoustics.
At this Friday morning ‘Tea and Symphony’ concert the new work was played first instead of last, and I found this to be to the work’s advantage in that Lightfall was heard freshly, not in the aftermath of the massive and hugely familiar Cello Concerto by Dvorak. Robert Johnson played as beautifully as he always does, and had a near perfect ‘score’ when it came to delivering the difficult and taxing – as in length – solo part. He plays almost non-stop throughout the two movements, with only a couple of short breaks where he only just has time to empty the condensation from his instrument. I found myself wondering whether Lightfall might perhaps be the longest work ever written for solo horn and orchestra? I think it would be if one counted the number of actual notes played by the horn, by which I don’t mean that there are ‘too many notes’!
Richard Gill and the Sydney Symphony provided the many and various accompanying effects with spine-tingling accuracy – the skittish dancing rhythms towards the end being particularly infectious! I especially love the way the work pays homage to the musical past and present – the touches of Britten in the rather depressed but haunting opening section (particularly the ‘Elegy’ from the Serenade for tenor, horn and strings [my emphasis]) – and the nod to John Adams in the joyfully exuberant concluding sections of the work.
I hope we will hear Lightfall again in the not-too-distant future, and indeed we will because we have the delayed broadcast to look forward to. That will probably be of the excellent second performance, as this final performance was not recorded.
I certainly feel immensely proud to have had something to do with this fine new work seeing the light of day.
- Robert Gay






