In his lifetime Alexander Zemlinsky never quite found the recognition he probably deserved. He lived through the first decade of the twentieth century in the shadow of Gustav Mahler, a man of unparalleled charisma and drive who not only diverted the musical limelight from the already insecure composer but also the love of a certain Alma Schindler, the object of Zemlinsky's lasting infatuation. On Wednesday evening it seemed that even a hundred years later, Zemlinsky is still fighting a losing battle for public acceptance. After a first half containing unexceptional performances of Brahms' Tragic Overture and Sibelius' Violin Concerto, a good quarter of the audience left, passing up a rare chance to hear one of the composer's most consummate works: his tone-poem Die Seejungfrau (1902-3), an immediate reaction to the loss of Alma.
The London Philharmonic Orchestra has been making a speciality of some less well known products of the early twentieth century, having featured heavily in the South Bank's Korngold celebration earlier in the season. Under the baton of Emmanuel Krivine they showed themselves to have become totally idiomatic in this repertoire, excelling themselves in this ripe, exquisitely orchestrated score. Loosely based on Hans Christian Andersen's The Little Mermard, Die Seejungfrau is cast in three movements. It doesn't follow a specific narrative but rather mixes elements of descriptive tone-painting with a concern for overarching form which works on symphonic terms.
The programme tells us that Zemlinsky had Strauss's Ein Heldenleben on his desk whilst at work on his own tone-poem but this performance forced one to see the composer as more than the simply an excellent imitator. The way Zemlinsky handles the orchestra, although not with the same irresistible swagger and flair of Strauss, is every bit as expert and, one might argue, more refined. There might not be quite the wealth of melody either but the motifs he does produce are explored and exploited with ingenuity. It's just a shame, in a way, that the most evocative and beautiful melodic idea in the work – a descending idea first heard on solo strings – only makes fleeting appearances, despite having a subtle harmonic and melodic influence throughout. The musical language itself is infused with all the richness of influence of fin-de-siècle Vienna yet there's a feeling of discipline and integrity that seems to have been inherited from his teacher, Brahms.
The crowning acheivement of the work is probably the sheer imagination of the orchestration. Zemlinsky evokes the ocean from its awesome depths to its glittering surface with a completely sure touch, the Mermaid herself is portrayed delicately in the strings. Throughout the LPO played out of their skins with a mixture of delicacy and power. The lyricism towards the end of the first movement was beautifully realised before they threw themselves, all guns blazing, into the thrills of the opening of the second movement – amongst the most visceral evocations of a ride through the mighty waves in all music – which itself was immediately contrasted with that yearning, swooning idea that I wish we'd heard more of. The augmented brass section was fantastic, the horns in particular.
The draw for a large part of the audience must have been the appearance in the first half of Latvian violinist Gidon Kremer in Sibelius' Violin Concerto. I was surprised to see him require the aid of a score in this – I'd heard him play the same work from memory in the same hall about ten years ago – and although the opening was phrased with a wonderfully improvisatory touch, I began quickly to feel that we weren't hearing him at his best. His tone – produced with a large amount of vibrato – sounded occasionally scrawny and his intonation was not pin-point in its accuracy. The Finale was taken at the kind of pace that takes no prisoners and Kremer just didn't seem comfortable; the runs and arpeggios which need to be tossed of with nonchalant ease sounded a little out of control, he was forced to snatch at the big interval jumps. Of course this was still some very good playing, with some moments of sublime lyrical beauty, but it just didn't sound as though we were hearing this great violinist at his best.
This performance and an efficient performance of Brahms' Tragic Overture formed a conventional first half which was blown out of the water by Zemlinsky's magnificent score in the second. Although some might argue that the work is a little long and does on occasion lose its way, it is surely a piece by this neglected master that should be heard more often. The LPO and Emanuel Krivine did all they could to bring it to our attention, it's just a shame so many decided not even to stay and give it a try.
By Hugo Shirley