Bruce Hodges hears the performance of Guillaume Connesson, Saint-Saëns, Augusta Holmès and Berlioz at Philadelphia’s Marian Anderson Hall on 22 November 2024

Gautier

Gautier Capuçon. Photo: Anoush Abrar

Why has it taken 16 years for Guillaume Connesson’s Cello Concerto (2008) to receive its American premiere? Thankfully the great Gautier Capuçon rectified that omission, with laudatory finesse from conductor Stéphane Denève and the Philadelphia Orchestra, as part of an all-French programme.

In the realm of concertos, it’s always interesting to see how the composer approaches the solo instrument in relation to the orchestra. Connesson’s vision opts for non-traditional instrumental pairings, including prominent percussion: the opening is punctuated with whip-cracks from a wooden slapstick and, later, the cello engages with xylophone and bass drum.

The penultimate movement (of five) is a cadenza in which the solo cello has to dispatch vivid arpeggios and glissandos running the full length of each string. Throughout the mesmerising ride, Capuçon showed poise and notably plangent tone, using a Stradivari cello – a departure from his usual 1701 Gofriller – coupled with a gorgeous bow by François Xavier Tourte.

An encore seemed mandatory and, as the stage lights lowered, Capuçon offered a chestnut, Saint-Saëns’s The Swan, with principal harpist Elizabeth Hainen spotlighted at the rear. The result was a tender shard of understatement – quiet and intimate, in contrast to the audience uproar that followed.

In the concluding Berlioz Symphonie fantastique, the strings’ spidery col legno strokes were among the most notable of many striking orchestral effects. And the evening began with a genuine rarity: ‘La nuit et l’amour’ from Ludus pro patria (1888) by Augusta Holmès – six minutes of string-drenched splendour.

BRUCE HODGES