Photo by Lili Emery
On a quiet, surprisingly dry Sunday evening in Oxford, students, parents, and Oxonians alike filled the steep pews of the Sheldonian Theatre for a debut performance by the Oxford Festival Choir (OFO) of Bruckner’s Fifth Symphony. Conducted by OFO founder Felix Kirkby, a student at Christ Church, the orchestra’s performance marked the “first ever Oxbridge student performance of a Bruckner symphony,” according to an interview with Kirkby published earlier. From the performance, it is hard to believe that this is the OFO’s first major undertaking, let alone that the orchestra itself is composed of students.
As I sit crouched in the tight stands of the Sheldonian, I overhear several whispers around me. Some members of the crowd are eager to see friends and family on stage, others are gathered for a rendition of the 19th century Austrian composer’s B-flat major symphony by an orchestra they had never seen—possibly never heard of—before. A symphony beginning in despair, and ending in triumph, Bruckner’s Fifth Symphony is a metaphor for the artist’s own life at the time, as he struggled financially and personally. Channeling this struggle into his music, Bruckner 5 is a piece that went largely unnoticed and overlooked…unfairly so.
The audience quiets as Kirkby calmly walks on stage to assume his position on the podium. With one swish of his conducting stick, the orchestra raises its instruments to playing position, waiting for Kirkby’s direction. The first movement of the piece begins with a steady and foreboding pizzicato from the cello and double bass sections, the only Bruckner symphony to begin with such a slow start. Then, in signature Bruckner style, the brass section joins with a bold and audacious entrance. The first movement is characterized by its Adagio-Allegro tempo, with a beautiful mix of backing strings, audacious brass, and the interconnecting calm of the wind section.
The second movement of Bruckner 5 continues to showcase the wind section, interspersed with beautiful and moving string sections. I found myself appreciating the string sections, which subtly swayed the energy between and within movements, all while helping to control tempo (ignore my bias as a violinist). The slower movement is made all the more special by the woodwind section, particularly the melodic sections led by oboe, clarinet, flute, and bassoon, and the beautiful conversations between instruments intended by Bruckner in the section and symphony at large. The movement slows to a stop with solos from the wind section — beautiful halfway point for the symphony and a testament to the strength of the individual musicians that compose the OFO.
The third movement speeds to a start from all sections, showcasing the brass, string, and wind sections all together. I am excited at the bold, heavy drums underlying the movement, and the opposing instrument sections that taper at softer parts of the movement. Moments from the string section meet the crescendos of the brass section, as both go back and forth between pianissimo and fortissimo. This movement foreshadows the final movement, with hints of the force capable of each section, just shy of the resolve to come.
The fourth movement has a slow and emotional start resembling much of the start of the first movement, with elements of the second movement’s showcase of soloists. It is also in this movement that the true range of the conductor is shown. Kirkby bounces throughout staccatos and pizzicato movements, widening his gestures throughout slurs and legatos. He crouches in pianissimo and jumps during crescendos that shake the sweat-filled hair his forehead. Kirkby’s understanding of tempo and tune have kept the orchestra on par with the score in a notoriously difficult movement, changing tones as I imagine Bruckner would have intended.
As for the orchestra, I am beyond impressed. Few moments, the occasional out of order bow movement or page-turn gone awry — both few and far between — distinguish this student orchestra from professional orchestras. Their composure, patience, and synchrony is a testament to their practice and talent, which, for many of the musicians on stage, has spanned years. This level of preparation and skill shows, and it is nothing short of incredible.
As I am distracted by the fact that the orchestra had only practiced for this performance part-time over the course of a few months (they are students after all), I barely notice that the orchestra itself has quieted. It is in this brief moment of quiet in the fourth movement that a Bruckner classic bold brass entry fills the auditorium. With quick crescendos and decrescendos, the string sections continue to play quickly and quietly, further showcasing the wind and brass sections, as well as the sheer control of the whole orchestra, in this final movement.
The end of the piece features the most climactic part of the entire symphony. As the dynamics grow louder amidst split sections, with the brass section leading the way, the final catharsis of this movement comes as Kirkby raises his hands to indicate the dynamics of the score, the loudest moments of the nearly one-and-a-half-hour symphony. He has barely looked at the score during this movement, appearing instead to know this ending — dynamics and all — by heart. A smile emerges as he conducts the final few notes, a loud and triumphant five notes shared by the entire orchestra that beautifully engulf the Sheldonian.
At the final note, Kirkby, whose glasses have nearly fallen from his nose, turns around towards the audience to lean on the podium. He is out of breath, taking a second to notice the audience in awe and applause before turning back towards the orchestra for the applause. As he hugs the principal violinist and leaves the stage, I see a wave of shock then gratitude wash over Kirkby. He struggles to decide whether to open his water bottle or return for his third (yes, third) applause. On his penultimate return, he offers a quick and humble speech, thanking the orchestra and drawing attention to the organization for which the event was held.
“I was 8 or 9 when I took my first music lesson, and 10 when I first heard my parents worry about how they would be able to afford it” he recalls. Organizations like the DYMA offer music education and support very similar to what Kirkby received as youth himself. One can see how much this cause means to Kirkby, who notes that the opportunity to conduct the OFO this evening was both an “honor and a privilege”. He leaves the stage swiftly, only to return, running his hands through his hair, to tell the audience politely that he thought “five times might be too much” and that we were welcome to leave as we wished.
I searched for Kirkby after the performance, only to find him chatting with members of the audience. In a brief conversation with him, I had a chance to meet Felix the third-year student—someone who was similarly in awe of the event of the evening.
“Standing up on the podium in front of an audience of four hundred or five hundred or whatever it was and an orchestra of seventy often feels like you’re standing in the center of the world”, he told me. “When it goes wrong, it goes really wrong. When it goes well, as I like to hope it did tonight, there is no better feeling.” When asked about the concert’s efforts to raise money for the DYMA, Kirkby smiled. “To put on a concert like this is one thing, to put on a concert like this for a charity is another thing. To be able to do all of it at the same time is an honor, really. That’s the word I keep coming back to”.
As I slowly shuffled out of the Sheldonian, I noted several players greeting their family and friends in warm embraces. Others have put on headphones, strapped their instrument cases to their backs, and begun their walks to college. I cannot help but wonder if the people they will encounter on their way will have any idea of what has just taken place at the Sheldonian. Similar to Kirkby, the word I too will keep returning to is “honor”, for what an honor it was to attend the OFO’s performance of Bruckner 5 this Sunday evening.