Enchanting evening with Royal Swedish Chamber Orchestra

Enchanting evening with Royal Swedish Chamber Orchestra

By Laksmi Pamuntjak

JAKARTA (JP): It's that time of the year again. A Toyota
Classics concert is a moment of prestige, a sublime gathering of
the highbrowed, and a noble precedent to reach deep into the
pocket.

Rising to the occasion on Nov. 14 was the Shangri-La Hotel,
which played host to prickly perfection. By 7 p.m., the
ballroom's lobby was filled to overflowing as charity bigwigs
mingled over wine and dim sum, awaiting the Royal Swedish Chamber
Orchestra's performance at 8 p.m.

As expected, there was pomp and circumstance, and a lot of
unfamiliar faces. These are faces that you don't see in regular
musical events and concert halls.

But that's just the way it is. A Toyota Classics concert is
perhaps one of Jakarta's biggest annual charity events. It is
renowned for bringing world-class orchestras not only to Jakarta,
but also different parts of Asia. As part of the "giving back"
motto of Toyota Astra Foundation and Toyota Motor Corporation,
the concerts' proceeds are all donated to local charities.

For this year's event, the seventh since 1990, the main
benefactor was the Jakarta branch of Yayasan Pembinaan Anak Cacat
(YPAC), the Foundation of Handicapped Children, which received Rp
60 million. The rest was donated to music schools in Jakarta.

Let us step around the issue of expensive tickets, which were
sold at prices between Rp 35,000 and 150,000 each.

The 1997 concert surpassed all the hype. That evening, under
conductor Mats Liljefors' sure-handed direction, the Royal
Swedish Chamber Orchestra proved it reputation as one of the
world's best chamber orchestras. It showed, with astounding
panache, just why classical music has survived the test of time.

Not that there was no challenge. The program was heavily
mainstream: it had both Mozart and Haydn, Brahms and Rossini, and
prominent Swedish baroque composer Johan Helmich Roman (which was
not much of a foray). It was the kind of program that, in the
hands of a lesser orchestra, could fall flat on its face.

But it's amazing how the stoic Swedes could reap so much
enchantment out of the seemingly mundane. The first note of
Roman's Drottningholm Suite -- a sunny work composed for a
Swedish royal wedding -- rang with the seasoned authority of
those who have lived and breathed the tradition. It moved not
only forward but also around us, encapsulating the entire hall
with breathtaking roundness of sound.

All the elements of baroque music came into play here in a
stunning show of balance and harmony.

Following each movement was like sitting in music class and
analyzing a superior CD interpretation, except that this time the
performance was in-the-flesh. All the compartmentalized segments
-- clarinet solo, flute, violin, cello and bass quartet, and
brass -- displayed superior technique and solid teamwork with the
rest of the orchestra.

Anna Norberg

Just when you thought you had heard it all, a statuesque
blonde stepped onto the stage, dressed in soft gold, flute in
hand. For a while, mouths were agape, jaws dropped. The 26-year-
old Anna Norberg was a vision to behold: think a young Anita
Ekberg crossed with Pamela Anderson Lee of Baywatch fame.

But when her flute started dancing to Mozart's Second Flute
Concerto, she was more the reincarnation of Pan than the
spokeswoman of classical hip. The sound that came out of her
flute was as luminous as her attire: smooth, velvety, passionate.
That she is a virtuoso goes without saying, and her technique was
of the highest order. But it was her soul which spoke up that
evening.

There was so much color and motion in her phrasing, a kind of
diaphanous flow that made her Mozart intriguingly
impressionistic. She also took licenses with her rubato,
especially during those highly-lyrical cadenzas, but they never
intruded with the classical spirit. She sang along with every
note and brought tears to our eyes.

Finesse

Anna Norberg's lavish exit did nothing to dampen the spirit of
the evening. First-rate orchestras are supposed to transcend
their soloists, and Mats Liljefors, artistic director and
conductor of numerous prestigious orchestras and navigator of
world-famous tenor Luciano Pavarotti and pianist Sviatoslav
Richter, is accustomed to making every interpretation sound
inevitable.

The orchestra's rousing rendition of Brahms' Hungarian Dances
nos. 5 and 6 had the depth, breadth and cosmic passion of a full
orchestra. As it ascended and plummeted with the works' volatile
gypsy nuances, it overtook the sparse acoustics, filled the hall,
enveloped and consumed us. The violin section was a special joy
to watch.

As expected, the torch was still aloft and blazing in the
second half. There were fewer surprises, but much of the same
haunting finesse. While Rossini's Overture to "The Barber of
Seville" was flawlessly rendered, it was Haydn's Symphony no. 92
that left a resonance. Every splinter of wit, spontaneity, humor
and emotional depth in the composer's dramatic palette was
projected here.

Oddly, none of these masterpieces affected this critic as much
as the first encore, described plainly by the astute Liljefors as
"a popular Swedish tune". Its vein was unmistakably patriotic,
but its melodies seemed drawn from an endless fount of loss and
longing. The effect, as is the norm with the Royal Swedish
Chamber Orchestra, was almost ethereal.

If only the unfortunate children, the same ones to benefit
from the concert, could have been there that evening.