REVIEW: Lights Flash, Waves Break, Sparks Fly

From Süddeutsche Zeitung (translated)

Sir Donald Runnicles and the Dresden Philharmonic Orchestra fascinate with music by Debussy, Scriabin, and Ravel.

By Jens-Uwe Sommerschuh

The Dresden Philharmonic concert on Friday evening was a special one. This was due in part to the dazzling program of works by Debussy, Ravel, and Scriabin, but above all to the appearance of Sir Donald Runnicles—his first since signing on as chief conductor. It is now officially confirmed that he will lead the orchestra starting in the season after next. Over the next 18 months, he will return to Dresden multiple times. With his alert, expansive conducting, he delivered a stirring performance on Friday.

The audience at the Kulturpalast was equally captivated by the eloquence with which the Scottish conductor spoke—in fluent German—about the character of the exquisite dances on the program: music depends on the emotions it evokes, and those can vary greatly.

Claude Debussy’s La mer (1905) combines symphonic form with an open structure, ranging from the sensitive dawn in B minor to the thunderous D major dialogue between sea and wind. The middle section’s play of waves contains some of the most complex passages. Sir Donald conjured lights flashing, waves breaking, sprays flying—and, with the brilliant Philharmonic Orchestra, offered a deeply organic interpretation of oceanic power and beauty.

Music Bathed in Color
Alexander Scriabin’s Poem of Fire (1910), dedicated to the Titan Prometheus, was accompanied by colored lighting in the hall. The Russian mystic always associated music with specific color moods: burnt red shifted to warm yellow, pale opal blue to deep emerald green. The organ—subtly embedded in the orchestral sound—revealed its charismatic voice. Pianist Steven Osborne, together with the Philharmonic Choir and the University Choir, contributed significantly to this visionary tone poem, which celebrates mystery and wonder over clarity or resolution.

In Maurice Ravel’s Miroirs (“Mirrors”), five pieces for solo piano composed in 1905, the composer approached the musical impressionism of Debussy, who was thirteen years his senior. Osborne performed two of these gems.

In Oiseaux tristes (“Sad Birds”), described by Ravel as “lost in the torpor of a gloomy forest during the hottest hours of a summer day,” the birds were portrayed here as delicate, vulnerable beings pausing in the shadows. In Une barque sur l’océan (“A Boat on the Ocean”), more than just an illustrative seascape, Osborne dazzled with nuance and shimmering tone—a masterclass in sound, full of delicate refracted light and flowing arpeggios. It was great art.

The evening concluded magnificently with Suite No. 2 from Ravel’s ballet Daphnis et Chloé, in the version for orchestra and choir. The Philharmonic painted the “Daybreak” in transparent watercolor tones, evoked by Kathrin Bäz’s exquisitely isolated flute solos. Pan’s love for the nymph Syrinx led to a vital bacchanal that left not a single eye dry. The performance ended with thunderous applause and visible joy from the Maestro and the orchestra alike.