Prom 51: Lucerne Festival Orchestra/Abbado - Royal Albert Hall, 22 August 2007
Could this be the world's most exclusive part-time orchestra? The Lucerne Festival Orchestra was created by maestro Claudio Abbado in 2003 and its members remain handpicked by him. To the nucleus of his Mahler Chamber Orchestra, he adds soloists, chamber musicians and others who have caught his eye over the years. Every August they come together to perform at the Lucerne Festival and a select handful of dates elsewhere before going back to their regular jobs.
Last week they performed Mahler's 3rd Symphony to the Lucerne Festival audience. Tonight it was the Proms' turn, to, unsurprisingly, a capacity audience, many of whom I spoke to had been queuing outside in the wind and rain for four hours or more to secure a spot near the front of the arena (ahhh, these are the times I enjoy being tall.....)
The orchestra inevitably can't spend enough time together to mould their sound into the liquid caramel gloss of the great traditional orchestras. But this doesn't count against them. Their individual skill and experience ensure fastidious technical precision, and the granular texture they've found gives them a sound all their own.
The gigantic ensemble looked impressive before they even played a note. At the rear of the large orchestra was raised a battery of percussion. Alongside were the smartly turned-out Trinity Boys' Choir, and up in the choir section, the ladies of the London Symphony Chorus. 
The statuesque soloist Anna Larsson (left) in a gorgeously architectural scarlet gown led in the purposeful and immaculately fracked-out maestro, and it was straight down to business.
From the trombone solo which grew into the resolute brass-laden marches, through to the satiny strings at the end, Abbado gave the first movement gravity without ponderousness, and drama without brash contrasts. It was a considered reading, and anything it lacked in spontaneity it made up for in spades in considered elegance.
The Albert Hall's billowing acoustic for once worked in its favour. The sound, already spread across the full width of the stage, reverberated from the high dome at the other end, and enveloped us in a way the radio recording of course can't emulate.
The second to fifth movements mark the ascent of being, from vegetation, to animals, to humans and a higher life. Every detail was meticulously presented but Abbado never lost sight of the overall structure, and always allowed the music space to breathe. The graceful minuet of the second movement weaving around the sweeps of playfully chaotic strings and the exquisite wind solos of the third brought the sunshine which had been sadly lacking outside all day.
In the fourth movement, Anna Larsson, who'd been sitting there patiently for an hour, finally got to unleash her dusky, burnished contralto in Mahler's darkly spare setting of Nietzsche's O Mensch. The two choirs balanced each other perfectly in the spirited fifth movement.
Everything in this symphony leads inexorably to the final movement, where the human voice is silent again and only the instruments sing. Growing from a bravely restrained pianissimo, the music gracefully blossomed into the white light of the climax.
The performance was accompanied throughout by significantly less coughing, fidgeting and general bad behaviour than usual, a sure sign of the spell it cast. A standing ovation was inevitable, and was received by Abbado with the same grace and modesty that characterised his conduct throughout.
It appeared almost miraculous that the seemingly frail Abbado, looking every one of his 74 years, could even stand up there for the full hundred minutes or so, let alone conjure up an interpretation of such magisterial power. This recent interview throws some light on his process and on what keeps him going -his passion for music.
*Update - and there's another new interview here (conducted from the splendour of the maestro's private jet, no less).
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