Three big bangs of full orchestral force form the opening salvo to Caroline Shaw’s 2021 piece The Observatory, given its UK premiere by the BBC National Orchestra of Wales under Giancarlo Guerrero. Conceived for performance at the Hollywood Bowl, it was inspired by a visit to another Los Angeles landmark, the Griffith Observatory. There Shaw contemplated the vast infinity of the cosmos, relating it to the vista of the city below and the smallness of everyday lives, and the unfathomable nature of these extremes led her to the world of sci-fi.
It’s a complex mix in which the echoes of those initial chords resonate periodically, notably in the brass, as an aural guide; constellations of woodwind glint and flicker, patterns and orbits appear and fade. In her programme note, Shaw mentions her nods to Richard Strauss, Bach, Brahms and Sibelius, but it is the arpeggio figure of Beethoven’s Sonata Op 27 No 2 – the Moonlight – which emerges most obviously. While there is an element of material being somewhat overworked, it is the flair with which Shaw uses the sonorities of the orchestra to rich effect that overall sustains the interest.
Sergio Tiempo was the soloist in Ravel’s Piano Concerto in G, a work many approach with a refined playfulness. Not Tiempo. He brought a nonchalantly elegant languidness to the quiet passages, but such dynamic bravura to the jazz elements as might have made the composer smile. In his encore, Chopin’s Nocturne No 4 in F, Op 15, it was the understated beauty of the slow cantilena contrasting with the fire of the central section that held the audience in thrall.
There’s nothing understated about the conducting of the Grammy award-winning Guerrero, as pugnacious as his surname might suggest, but also given to a bit of dancefloor shimmying on the podium. A showpiece like Bartók’s Concerto for Orchestra suited him well, with the virtuoso playing from the BBCNOW in every department – sounding brilliantly in the Brangwyn Hall acoustic – allowing him to bring a raw, rhythmic bite to the music.
Yet it was the slow Elegia at the heart of the concerto that stood apart. Bartók was no cosmologist, but the poignant sense of mystery and awe of this final utterance in his celebrated “night music” vein spoke volumes.
