Hurling all into the ether, detonating every orchestral sound he could muster, William Walton achieved a feat of whirring ingenuity in his Symphony No 1 (1931-5). The giddy first movement, now sour, now tumultuous; the malicious presto; the melancholy respite of the third movement: each compels, but nothing matches the hair-raising abundance of the finale, from its first, eddying ascent to the assault of the six thunderous chords that bring it to a close. In last weekend’s Proms performance by the Sinfonia of London, in front of a capacity crowd, the music spat and hissed, sprinted and cajoled, counterpoint gleaming and clear, rhythmic detail bang on. Each player seemed to tug at a metaphorical leash, not to urge the speed but to push their own vigour to its limit.
This is as the Sinfonia’s founder (in its modern incarnation) and conductor, John Wilson, expects. Charisma is part of it: he wears it lightly. An incisive musical brain, a dedication to detail and an ability to instil loyalty count for more. All his hand-picked players are committed elsewhere, many as section principals in the London Symphony Orchestra, the Philharmonia, the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic, the Leipzig Gewandhaus, the Hallé, the Britten Sinfonia – to name randomly – or as chamber musicians, in quartets or wind, brass or percussion ensembles. From the middle section of the orchestra, second violins and violas shone, with sinewy tone and absolute confidence. The Sinfonia’s string sound now rivals the best.
