At the Helsinki Music Center, Friday evening marked the world premiere of Cecilia Damström’s formidable orchestral monolith Extinctions, op. 86 (2023), performed with inspiriting dedication by the Finnish Radio Symphony orchestra under their marvelous guest conductor Chloé Dufresne. Scored for full symphonic line-up of triple winds, including piccolo, English horn, e-flat clarinet, bass clarinet and contrabassoon, four horns, piccolo trumpet, two trumpets, two trombones, bass trombone, tuba, timpani, three percussion, piano, celesta and strings, the twenty-minute score is in one movement, subdivided into twelve interconnected sections, referring to the geological periods of the Earth.
“As we stand on the verge of the sixth mass extinction, the Holocene Extinction, I find myself reflecting on the profound history of our planet and the earlier five major extinction events that have shaped life on Earth. The piece explores the creation of life on earth, it’s evolutions and extinctions through different sound worlds.
According to the species-area theory, the present rate of extinction may be up to 140,000 species per year. On the time scale of this piece, the Holocene Epoch is approximately 0,02 seconds, hence the piece ends where we stand today: at a peak of biodiversity and an open question to all of us: where will we go from here?”, the composer writes in her note.
The music opens with a primordial introduction heralded by gradual crescendo build-up on timpani, bass drum and tam-tam, joined by piano left-hand, double basses and bass clarinet. Following the rumbling preamble, oscillations on contrabassoon, tuba, trombones and celli are heard. Amongst the sonorous tectonic plates, single-cell musical organisms appear on col legno battuto strings, as Damström weaves her characteristically splendid aural narratives into the fabric. Picked up by woodwinds, the sonic kernels begin to develop into more complex figurations, leading into The Cambrian and Ordovician Periods. Scored for winds and brass, the ever-quickening fabric resolves into its first extinction, out of which flutes, oboes clarinets, bassoons and divisi strings survive, as life carries on into The Silurian Period.
In the midst of scalar patterns and arpeggios, first actual motifs appear in the winds, as the orchestral ecosystem flourishes until being swept away by The Late Devonian Extinction of sustained fortissimo tidal waves on the strings. A flute ostinato endures, echoed by the piano, providing seed-bed for new musical material, out of which the lively sounding realms of The Carboniferous and Permian Periods are drawn.
Halfway into the musical arch, timpani, bass drum, tam-tam and rainstick announce The Great Dying. However, a viola line survives, and new life and new extinctions come to pass. Dinosaurs enter the scene on low brass, as the orchestra celebrates the majesty of The Jurassic Period with scalar strings, rippling winds and solo marimba. As The Cretaceous Period begins, piccolo, bass clarinet and piano lead the way, shining through the fabric, until upheavals from bass drum, tam-tam, piano and glissando timpani and strings mark and end of an era.
Solo violin and whistletone flutes introduce The Cenozoic Era – the final orchestral build-up zenithing with a triple-forte question mark for full ensemble.
A gorgeous rendition from the orchestra and Dufresne, Extinctions was given a flying start upon its premiere. Regarding the overall organic form, Damström’s orchestral designs bear some family relationships with those by Anna Thorvaldsdottir – without imitation – whereas her way of leading each instrument their own sonic narratives is something quite unique. Figurative without resorting to mere Mickey Mousing, Damström’s scoring serves as story-teller par excellence, as resoundingly demonstrated by the inspired accounts of the FRSO players. Shaped and balanced with keen attention and organic sensitivity by Dufresne, Extinctions was received with rousing enthusiasm by the sold-out hall.
Concluding the second half, Igor Stravinsky’s The Firebird Suite (1909-10/1945) was heard, clad in marvelous aural garments. Following its resplendent world premiere at Palais Garnier on 25 June 1910, Stravinsky’s technicolor ballet score became a dearly loved item of stage repertoire, yearning for concert performances. For that purpose, the composer went on to produce no less than three suites: the lesser-known 1911 version in five movements retaining the original expansive orchestration and concluding with The Infernal Dance, the popular 1919 version in six movements for reduced ensemble and the final 1945 version in ten movements for duple winds, four horns, two trumpets, three trombones, tuba, timpani, bass drum, cymbals, snare drum, tambourine, triangle, xylophone, piano, harp and strings.
From the late 1940s onwards, Stravinsky revised most of his key works, partly to re-establish his copyright, but for musical reasons as well. When revising The Firebird, the composer was keen to reshape the musical narrative into more coherent whole, with more practicable scoring in mind. Hence, the third wind parts were incorporated into the remaining instrumental pairings and out went the offstage brass. The end result was a thirty-minute hybrid between the ballet original and a concertante item, subsequently choreographed by George Balanchine in 1949.
Although the 1945 version is no match for the original score – as Stravinsky himself realized while conducting the complete 1910 ballet worldwide on this 80th birthday year – the Fassung letzter Hand is not without merit, as attested by Dufresne and the FRSO on Friday. Given in radiant colors and vivid kinetic tableaux, The Firebird Suite conveyed the musical fairy-tale in cohesive manner, with apt orchestral dramaturgy and virtuosity embedded. A translucent reading with fine-tuned articulation and balancing – save for one or two brief passages one rehearsal away from immaculate – the performance was a splendid one indeed.
The evening’s first half item, Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky’s Piano Concerto No. 1 in B minor, op. 23 (1874-75/1879-90) is one of those best-loved items in the repertoire, cherished by generations of performers and audiences alike. From a personal standpoint, the many charms of the concerto have eluded this writer, in whose ears the score has always sounded rather banal. However, given all the unanimous praise for the music, the problem must be in the eye of the beholder.
Tastes aside, the reading by pianist Alexander Malofeev, Dufresne and the FRSO proved that it is indeed possible to enjoy a performance apart from the musical work itself, for the playing was absolutely enjoyable. The opening Allegro non troppo e molto maestoso fanfare was sounded out with glow and magnificence, answered by Malofeev’s buoyant treatment of the musical material, leading to invigorating instrumental discussions between the soloist and the orchestral players. The tutti sections were beautifully shaped by the orchestra under Dufresne, who guided the ensemble through the movement ever attuned to Malofeev’s lyrical dexterity.
Since the installation of the new organ, the in-hall acoustics have become more favorable to the piano soloist, save for the loudest orchestral passages, where the keyboard player was still turned into a mime on a couple of occasions.
Performed with finesse, the solo flute introduction into the Andantino semplice second movement set the stage for the lovely interplay between Malofeev and the FRSO winds, extending beyond the coffee house ambiance of most performances. Similarly, the central Prestissimo was swiftly handled by the soloist and the Dufresne-led FRSO, as the musicians made the most of Tchaikovsky’s writing.
The finale rondo was given a marvelous workout, full of melodic glow and polished detail, as and Malofeev, Dufresne and orchestra embraced the music with wholehearted commitment and impeccable craft, forcing even the most reluctant listener to admit that Tchaikovsky had his moments while conceiving the music.
In his subtle encore, Malofeev resorted to the Handelian sphere, treating the audience with an utmost intimate take on the Minuet G minor, HWV 434/4 (1733).
Heard after the concert proper, Dora Pejačević’s wonderful String Quartet in C major, op. 58 (1922) received an extraordinary performance from the FRSO string players Paula Sundqvist and Laura Vikman, violins, Martta Wahlberg, viola, and Tomas Nuñez, cello. Clocking at circa thirty three minutes, the four-movement quartet is a substantial piece, marking the composer departure from her late-romantic style towards more advanced idioms. Had she not died of puerperal sepsis after childbirth some months after completing the quartet, who knows what stylistic paths Pejačević might have followed.
Framed by fast – and slightly oversized – outer movements, at the core of the quartet lies the central pairing of a riveting Adagio of remarkable charm and expressivity as well as a brilliant Minuet of refinement and buoyancy. Rounding off with insistent Rondo, the quartet is a notable affair.
Finnish Radio Symphony Orchestra
Chloé Dufresne, conductor
Alexander Malofeev, piano
Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky: Piano Concerto No. 1 in B minor, op. 23 (1874-75/1879-90)
Cecilia Damström: Extinctions, op. 86 (2023) for symphony orchestra
Igor Stravinsky: The Firebird Suite (1909-10/1945) for orchestra
Music Center, Helsinki, Finland
Friday 27 January 2024
© Jari Kallio
AIM - Adventures in Music 
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