The hall itself is showing its age, but it had been decked out for the occasion: the casework of the organ formed the imposing backdrop and floral pillows decorated the boxes, with a kingsize floral duvet in front of the royal box. A fanfare specially commissioned for the occasion from Harrison Birtwistle launched things - a miniature of piercing intensity ushered in and closed by the sound of a tam-tam, and building to a typically gritty, hard-won climax that was more than simply celebratory.
Pierre-Andre Valade conducted that premiere, but Gergiev was in charge for the rest of the evening. If you want a conductor to raise a storm on occasions like this, then Gergiev is definitely your man. The theatrical charge that he brought to Beethoven's third Leonora Overture was electrifying, compressing a whole opera's worth of drama into its 15 minutes; the Philharmonia provided razor-sharp responses to his batonless flutterings. The accompaniment to Schumann's Piano Concerto was similarly sculpted in bold, passionate gestures, though Murray Perahia's performance was less emphatic: beautifully finished and poetic, but lacking in excitement.
The second half was given over almost entirely to Verdi. Gergiev topped and tailed the sequence of arias with the overtures to La Forza del Destino and I Vespri Siciliani, performances of such overwhelming physicality that the vocal numbers in between almost paled by comparison. Angela Gheorghiu sang numbers from Forza and, for no obvious reason, from Catalani's La Wally; the tenor Marcello Giordani chipped in with chunks of Luisa Miller and I Lombardi; Dmitri Hvorostovsky contributed Rigoletto's great outburst and a heartstopping presentation of Rodrigo's death scene from Don Carlo. High-octane, high-calibre singing, even if it was not quite what the Festival Hall is famous for.
A version of this review appeared in later editions of yesterday's paper.
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