The organ designed by Ralph Downes for St David's Hall is a fine instrument, but it is usually somewhat sidelined, getting recognition mostly in lunchtime recitals and occasional appearances in Saint-Saëns's Third Symphony. But in three of the four items in this concert with the BBCNational Orchestra of Wales, the appearance of Olivier Latry, organist titulaire of Notre Dame in Paris, brought the organ into the spotlight for the evening in acknowledgement of the 20th anniversary of its building.
Much of Latry's vast repertoire reflects an ecclesiastical context, so it must have made a change of pace for him to play in Bela Bartok's orchestral suite The Miraculous Mandarin, whose scenario involves thuggery and prostitution, and, following that, to do a little solo improvisation on themes from the suite. And yet, in the full ballet-pantomime, the mandarin who is the prostitute's last client offers a message about the redemptive power of love.
The suite, consisting as it does of only the first two-thirds of the ballet, is denied this final spiritual resolution. From the outset, the atmosphere conjured by the snakily insinuating melodic lines was one of manic instability and seething tensions, with conductor David Atherton underlining the violently explosive moments with a raucous and shocking force.
Bartok's musical themes are neither catchy nor an obvious basis for an improvisation, but Latry is clearly a man eager for a challenge. This performance was a dazzling feat of intellect, at once rational and creative. It upheld the essential histrionics of the original and showed the virtuosity that makes Latry one of the most formidable exponents of this art.
Marcel Dupré was one of the 20th century's great organ virtuosi and improvisers, and his gigantic G minor Symphony for organ and orchestra (written nine years later than the Bartok) belongs very much in the great French tradition. The organist does not have a concertante role, but adds immensely to the range of sounds at the composer's command. The work's modal inflections, the almost diabolical Scherzo and the lugubrious slow movement all contributed to its gothic effect. But by the end of the animated finale, its splendid grandeur had transformed the hall into a cathedral of sound.
Rimsky-Korsakov's Capriccio Espagnol was the implausible opener to the evening. It boasted a wonderfully sultry cor anglais solo, and Atherton whipped up a frenzy in the last strait. In retrospect, however, the work was rather a misfit.