Review: Belshazzar's Feast at Philharmonic Hall ****1/2

The start of the season may have been delayed a month by work to the hall, but the Phil’s autumn schedule has certainly rip-roared into life since then.

Radio 3 had turned up to record this Saturday night stunner and if you missed it in person, you can catch it on the airwaves on December 2.

That may give you a broad sense of the night’s music-making, but while ostensibly an aural experience, this concert was visually arresting too, so one hopes the diligent BBC presenter (cans on and mic raised in box 11) will paint a colourful picture for her listeners.

First there were the headsets spotted scattered among the orchestra during Anna Meredith’s tantalising Nautilus which opened the evening (more of that anon).

Then the physical expressiveness of conductor Adam Hickox, a slight but powerful presence on the box, and violinist Ning Feng. More of that too.

And finally, after the interval, the vision of the massed ranks of the Philharmonic Choir ranged on a newly reordered stage, flanked by a pair of brass ensembles (three trumpets, three trombones and a tuba) in the closest four boxes, and birthday boy Sir Bryn Terfel out front for a richly vivid performance of Belshazzar’s Feast.

Above: The RLPO and Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Choir. Top: Bryn Terfel. Photos by Gareth Jones

It was during a moment of dramatic percussiveness in Walton’s cantata that the vision which led to Meredith’s brilliantly bold piece being programmed to complement it became clear.

Nautilus isn’t for the fainthearted – it’s a tricksy, textured concoction of contrapuntal syncopation (picture trying to pat your head and rub your stomach at the same time), layering pulsating patterns of melody and percussion which each threaten to pull the other into its insistent orbit. Hence the 'click track' headsets, particularly, although certainly not exclusively, among the horns.

A challenge to play, a mesmerising pleasure to listen to. Chapeau to Hickox for keeping the many varied plates spinning and the Phil for making it appear, if not effortless, then certainly nowhere as complicated as it evidently is.

On Thursday, Ning Feng played Barber. On Saturday night he pulled out another big favourite in the repertoire, infusing Mendelssohn’s Violin Concerto with a lovely lyrical and tender voice. Hopefully the chain reaction of consumptive coughing in the auditorium during the opening movement's winsome cadenza won't have been picked up by the BBC mics.

Above: Violinist Ning Feng and conductor Adam Hickox. Photo by Gareth Jones.

The delicate tone and thoughtful phrasing continued in a serene central andante, underpinned by the warmth of the orchestral accompaniment, while the violinist showcased the nimblest of virtuosic technique in a finale that was very speedy and certainly ‘molto vivace’ – ably abetted by a similarly fleetfooted Phil.

And so to Belshazzar’s Feast, with the massed orchestral and choral forces (underpinned in early passages by the deep visceral vibration of the hall’s organ) recounting the story of the fall of Babylon in epic and spirited fashion.

If the choir’s impressively crystalline enunciation became somewhat blurry and indistinct during the cantata’s more frenetic passages, it still sounded vital and majestic whether embodying pagan feasters or Jewish captives, while Terfel showed what a skilful storyteller he is as he wound a compelling and nuanced vocal narrative.

Mention also for BSL interpreter Paul Whittaker, sandwiched between the strings and one of the off-stage brass sections, who injected his own eye-catching drama into Osbert Sitwell’s libretto. And later signed ‘Happy Birthday to you’ to Terfel, although it would need a sign language reader to confirm whether in English or Welsh!