Auckland Philharmonia at the Auckland Town Hall

By WILLIAM DART

I would imagine that, for a good proportion of the near-capacity Auckland Philharmonia audiences on both Thursday and Friday, the drawcard was Beethoven's Choral Symphony. Punters had little reason to be disappointed.

Conducting from memory, Miguel Harth-Bedoya galvanised his musicians. The opening bars hung in anticipation upon the air until the orchestra fell upon its fortissimo chord with the requisite fury. E.M. Forster singled out these bars, leading up to the "pounce" on D minor, as eternally fresh; the AP captured this to a T.

Although the second movement may have seemed a little over-deliberated to some, there were rewards in its crackling articulation and the taxing third, with its subtle shifts of tempos, was effortlessly laid out.

The quartet of soloists for the Finale (Jenny Wollerman, Zan McKendree-Wright, Simon O'Neill and David Griffiths) are among the most reliable we have although the blend was not always satisfactory, with a full-voiced O'Neill rather overshadowing his colleagues.

Full marks, though, to the Chapman Tripp Opera Chorus, Hamilton Civic Choir and Renaissance Singers whose strong, focused singing gave the fourth movement the exultancy needed.

We had heard Beethoven's opening bars earlier in the evening in Gillian Whitehead's Alice, their falling fifths recast as celebratory birdsong after a storm, one of many haunting moments in Whitehead's magnificent new commission.

Working from a Fleur Adcock libretto that adroitly bridged history and poetry, the composer gave us a moving portrait of an Edwardian woman striking out for herself in a new land.

Alice's challenges were many, and Whitehead's music caught them all, from the broad humour of shipboard lice infestations to the poignant deaths of her father and husband.

Making full use of the orchestral resources, there is all the spaciousness of a new country here, with bold, savage sounds alongside folk-like song that seems to encapsulate all the sorrows of the world. Have we any other singers who could equal Helen Medlyn in this piece? I think not.

For 35 minutes, the mezzo was the indomitable heroine.

It's a huge sing, soaring into the operatic one minute and spitting out viperish speech-song the next.

Medlyn delivered it all, with her inimitable theatrical flair.

Alice was experienced by upwards of 4000 people, lovingly played by the orchestra which brought it about. Around me, listeners were visibly moved by the emotions and, yes, they smiled at its humour.

All in all, these were two historic nights for New Zealand music and I suspect Beethoven himself would have been proud to have Whitehead sharing the programme with him.