Forgive the cliché, but listening to and watching a great symphony orchestra at its best is like admiring a well-oiled machine. Everything comes together perfectly, and the results are sublime. Or perhaps it’s the proverbial swan, whose serene progress above water disguises the busy paddling below.
But let’s not forget that these smooth machines and gliding swans are made up of real people. For every performance that we as listeners enjoy, we can only guess at the range of emotions going on in those producing it: from sheer delight to shredded nerves, from adrenalin rush to repetition-induced ennui. Below, we ask the players themselves about the works they love seeing appear on the programme, and those they approach with all the relish of a trip to the dentist for root canal surgery. What are their dream pieces, and what are their orchestral nightmares?
Dream work, nightmare work: the violin
Chosen by Lyn Fletcher
Violinist and leader, Hallé Orchestra
Dream: Mahler: Symphony No. 9
'Mahler’s Ninth Symphony contains fabulous string writing. The first movement in particular has an amazing second violin part, which always makes me jealous! However, for the leader, that same movement also has a beautiful solo at the end, with really soft glissandos – I always enjoy playing it, even if it is fairly lonely.
'And then, after the crazy third movement, we arrive utterly exhausted at the final Adagio. Here, if you have a string section that makes a very expressive, blended sound, it makes you feel part of something very special. It is very soft, but an incredibly reassuring feeling.'
- Mahler's Ninth finished strongly in our list of the greatest symphonies of all time
Nightmare: Dvořák: Cello Concerto
At one point in the last movement of Dvořák’s Cello Concerto, there are key changes every four bars. With every one of those key changes, I feel the tension increasing and have to really concentrate and try and keep calm. It all builds up to a violin solo that has the main theme – it is beautiful, but is marked piano and tranquillo, while the cello soloist at the time simply has trills that are marked fortissimo. As a result, I have to really tank it out to have any chance of being heard, and I always find myself asking ‘Oh, why did Dvořák write this?’.
- Dvořák's Cello Concerto made it onto our list of the ten greatest cello concertos of all time
Dream work, nightmare work: the viola
Dream: Richard Strauss: Also sprach Zarathustra
In general, I much prefer the pieces where the violas have a lot to do and are kept particularly busy. Richard Strauss writes parts for the violas that are technically quite demanding and also often has moments where our line is picked out or we are given solo passages. Of his orchestral works, Don Quixote has the most famous solo viola part, but for a collective viola part, I would probably go for Also sprach Zarathustra, while his opera Daphne is also a very rewarding piece to play.
Nightmare: Philip Glass: the symphonies
If I’m being honest, I don’t have nightmares about the really difficult works – I enjoy them! However, in the same way that I love the pieces that challenge the violas, I’m not so keen on the ones in which we just repeat the same thing over and over again, and all you’re really doing is counting how often you have to do it. A lot of the more contemporary, minimalist pieces spring to mind – for the violas, any of Philip Glass’s Symphonies, for instance, tend to sound very similar.
Dream work, nightmare work: the cello
Chosen by Peter Dixon
Principal cello, BBC Philharmonic
Dream: Richard Strauss: Don Quixote
Richard Strauss writes superbly for the cello, and it’s a great privilege for a principal cellist to be able to play the part of the mad Don Quixote as he tilts at windmills, has imaginary lovers and dies an imaginary death. There are two variations in it where you think that life can’t get any better than this.
The fifth variation, where the Don is guarding his armour and dreaming of his imaginary Dulcinea, is exquisite. Then, the death scene at the end has one of the most beautiful melodies ever written, with these opulent, luscious harmonies moving underneath you. In fact, I love the work so much I have two cats who, named after the Don’s sidekick, are called Sancho and Panza!
Nightmare: Elgar: Enigma Variations
Elgar’s Enigma Variations are about as perfect as a piece could be. However, the twelfth variation begins and ends with eight notes of solo cello. It is incredibly exposed and lonely. It’s also rather like the frame to a very beautiful picture, and so I always feel this awesome sense of responsibility when I’m about to play it – nobody wants to look at this Mona Lisa surrounded by a tatty, grotty frame. It’s the one piece that, when I see it on the schedule, I think ‘Oh no!’. I love the piece so much, but there’s that wretched solo…
‘I love Elgar’s Enigma Variations, but there’s that wretched solo…'
Dream work, nightmare work: the double bass
Chosen by David Daly
Principal double bass, Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra
Dream: Beethoven: Symphony No. 5
Beethoven’s Fifth is marvellous to play, from its very first ‘fate’ blows to the tremendous finale. At the start of the third movement trio, Beethoven gives the basses and cellos the job of suddenly kicking the orchestra into life with a low fast passage played fortissimo. This passage will be on every audition excerpt list in the world, so every professional bassist will have played it thousands of times. However, it never fails to thrill in performance when this moment comes and the whole section springs into life, leading the way musically with all bassists thundering away as one.
Nightmare: Mahler: Symphony No. 1
In this fine symphony, Mahler gifted principal bassists with one of the most famous solos in the repertoire. After the second movement comes to a boisterous end, the conductor waits for the hall to go silent. The lone bassist then has to break this deathly silence by starting to play ‘Frère Jacques’ in a minor key, pianissimo in the most awkward range on the instrument.
It’s reckoned that Mahler wanted an ungainly sounding melody, but bassists have now learned to play it quite beautifully. However, recently I was asked by a conductor not to do so, as it rather spoiled the intended effect!
Dream work, nightmare work: the flute
Chose by Flute Gareth Davies
Principal flute, London Sympony Orchestra
Dream: Ravel: Daphnis et Chloé
Flute students are all forced to learn the big solo from Daphnis et Chloé for exams and auditions. It’s a traumatic experience but, when you finally get to play it in the complete ballet, it is pure joy. The piece is littered with sumptuous solos, from the opening shivers of dawn to the erotically charged pantomime until the abandon of the final dance.
As principal flute, it’s a wonderful experience, but everyone in the section has their moment to shine; it’s a real team piece. When you have an incredible group of musicians, nothing comes close to the exhilaration of a performance.
Nightmare: Saint-Saëns: Carnival of the Animals – Volière (The Aviary)
Flute players have to accept that, from Vivaldi through to Messiaen, they are typecast as birds. It gets terribly tedious. ‘Volière’, however, is a particular nightmare. Not only did Saint-Saëns pick a really awkward series of notes with which to imitate a bird, he also made it a gymnastic challenge that has us looking enviously over at the cellist’s Swan.
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Apart from the obvious difficulty, the moment in the spotlight comes well into the piece following many, many tacet (silent) bars. There is no chance to prepare yourself. You wait in silence whilst your colleagues play around you, then jump and pray you can fly.
Dream work, nightmare work: the oboe
Chosen by John Roberts
Principal oboe, Royal Philharmonic Orchestra
Dream: Brahms: Symphony No. 1
Brahms’s writing for the woodwinds is amazing, as he writes this wonderful counterpoint where every voice feels important and you can really find a great blend within the section. And he writes superb solo lines. One moment a couple of minutes into the opening of the First Symphony is really full of pathos.
It’s a figure that corkscrews from the bottom of the register to the top and back down again, and because the oboe is the only moving line, you can take as much time as you like. Similarly, in the second movement, the most memorable tune is introduced by solo oboe, on its own at first then accompanied by soft woodwind, again with a lot of freedom for expression. It’s really generous writing.
Nightmare: Ravel: Piano Concerto
Ravel’s Piano Concerto is a wonderful piece, but it also always keeps me awake at night. There’s this particularly thankless moment where, in a slight let up in the tempo, there’s a very atmospheric passage with all sorts of splashy effects and a precariously high horn solo. Emerging out of this texture, the oboe has a technically very difficult scale that goes chromatically upwards very rapidly. It’s on the edge of playability, and takes weeks of practice.
- Ravel's Piano Concerto features in our list of the greatest piano concertos
Dream work, nightmare work: the clarinet
Chosen by Richard Hosford
Principal clarinet, BBC Symphony Orchestra
Dream: Rachmaninov: Symphony No. 2
This is probably an obvious choice, though I know some dread playing it. The symphony as a whole is one of the most romantic pieces I can think of, with a beautifully written clarinet part throughout. The clarinet has a long melody at the beginning of the slow movement that unfolds slowly, circling and soaring for several minutes. It is gorgeously written for the instrument and, on a good day, with a good reed and a sympathetic and charismatic conductor, the whole performance can be a real joy.
Nightmare: Prokofiev: Peter and the Wolf
There are quite a few pieces I could list that I don’t really enjoy playing. I love Peter and the Wolf as a work and think it is the supreme example of musical storytelling. If only the cat didn’t have to go up the tree in such a terrible hurry, I would always look forward to it.
Many years ago I played it on tour with a famous conductor who seemed to chase me (and the cat!) faster on each successive evening. Prokofiev writes very awkwardly here (probably intentionally) and, when chased by a crazy baton-wielding Italian, it is easy to stumble on a few branches. It’s only a few seconds, but it has given me some cold sweats over the years.
Dream work, nightmare work: the bassoon
Chosen by Amy Harman
Principal bassoon, Philharmonia
Dream: Stravinsky: The Rite of Spring
When I first played the Rite of Spring, I was absolutely floored by it – it is the most exciting piece ever written for symphony orchestra. The colours Stravinsky makes, such as having the alto flute and E flat clarinet together, are like nothing else you hear.
There are small sections of great writing for the five bassoons in the piece, and we’re not that exposed. That’s great because, after my famously terrifying solo at the beginning, I can enjoy the rest of the piece. And even with that solo, it’s great to have the starring role – I get a lot of glory for about a minute’s playing!
Nightmare: Bruckner: the symphonies
Bruckner must not have liked the bassoon section in the orchestra he was writing for. In his symphonies, we play for one bar about every 20 minutes and no one hears us – normally we are playing largely semibreves, with around 12 horns playing right behind us. Let’s just say that Bruckner doesn’t really use us to our full potential. Admittedly, listening to the music when we’re in the thick of it in a concert is fantastic, but during a rehearsal, I just want to take a nap!
Dream work, nightmare work: the French horn
Chosem by Sarah Willis
French horn, Berlin Philharmonic
Dream: Richard Strauss: Ein Heldenleben
Strauss’s Ein Heldenleben (‘A hero’s life’) is full of horns, and horns are heroes – they can make or break a concert! Strauss’s father was a horn player, and so Strauss himself knew how to use the horns. He used them for the romantic moments, for the heroic moments, and knew just how to get it right.
And what’s particularly great is that he didn’t just write for the principal horn. In all of his works, the principal does get his showy moments, but there’s plenty for us all to practise and enjoy. There are some juicy tunes, and it’s great fun to play.
Nightmare: Bruckner: Symphony No. 4
Sometimes when I am asleep and have nightmares, I dream that I have to play the beginning of Bruckner’s Fourth. It is so scary, as all you have is tremolo strings around you and a conductor glaring at you. With the danger of playing split notes, the horn is difficult enough as it is, and here you have the added burden of the exposure and the responsibility of starting the piece – the whole mood of the performance is up to you. Thankfully, though, as I am not currently a principal, I always wake up from this nightmare and never have to play it!
Dream work, nightmare work: the trumpet
Chosen by Joakim Agnas
Principal trumpet, Royal Stockholm Philharmonic Orchestra
Dream: Richard Strauss: An Alpine Symphony
Strauss’s An Alpine Symphony is a big work to play for all the orchestra, and as a solo trumpet player I like having a challenge – it’s like a solo piece for the whole orchestra. For the trumpet there are lots of solos throughout the work: it’s so soft, so high, so strong and so lyrical. It goes very high. We can’t play it too often because it needs so many extra players, but I was once lucky enough to play it twice in one week.
Nightmare: Kraus: Symphonie funèbre
I hate this piece by the Swedish/German composer Joseph Martin Kraus. It’s not because it’s ugly or bad; it is just so extremely boring to play. Written after the death of King Gustav III, it is a slow, long funeral march – they must have walked around the whole of Stockholm for the procession.
In the trumpet section we are used to waiting around a lot, but usually when we play a piece, after half an hour or so there is at least something to look forward to. Not here. It is also extremely easy, even on a Baroque trumpet. You just find yourself waiting, waiting… and waiting.
Dream work, nightmare work: the trombone
Chosen by Aline Nistad
Principal trombone, Oslo Philharmonic
Dream: Mahler: Symphony No. 3
I think most trombone players would agree that Mahler is the best composer for our instrument. He writes really big tunes for us, which very few other composers do. In the first movement of his Third Symphony, there are three big trombone solos.
Two of them are loud and fun to play, but it’s the soft one that is particularly enjoyable as it’s so unusual. It’s all in the middle register, so there’s no real danger – every brass player’s nightmare is playing high notes which are so easy to miss – and it is very expressive.
Nightmare: Ravel: Boléro
Any week in which we play Boléro is always a bad week! In it, I have to sit there for eight long minutes and a few seconds doing absolutely nothing other than hearing everybody else in the orchestra playing the tune that I am going to play. But while they all play their solos in their normal register and have fun with it, I come in on one of the trombone’s top notes, and then keep going up from there. And it’s a long solo too, so if you start off badly, it’s almost impossible to get back on track.
Dream work, nightmare work: the timpani
Chose by Tom Greenleaves
Principal timpani, Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra
Dream: Wagner: the Ring cycle
Within his Ring cycle, and particularly Götterdämmerung, Wagner incorporates everything that a timpanist can possibly contribute to music and to an orchestra – the part is incomparably dramatic, pushing one to play to the utmost extremes of beauty, lyricism, pain, nobility, bombast, love… the lot.
The less grandiose moments in Die Walküre are exceptionally heart-stopping, not least at the Annunciation of Death in the second act where the drama just stops and, out of nowhere, the most mysterious, distant, portentous timpani solo just floats in the distance. It could barely be simpler, but it
is breathtakingly dramatic and quite unique to Wagner.
Nightmare: Beethoven: Violin Concerto
In general, I don’t get the biggest kick from works in which the timpani are predominantly there to provide fireworks. More specifically, though, the one moment I do dread a little is the first beat of the second bar of Beethoven’s Violin Concerto.
The first bar of the work consists of four solo crotchet Ds in the timpani, and then the rest of the orchestra comes in in D major – it’s only at that moment that you discover whether or not you tuned the instrument well… or not. It’s either sizeable relief or that grim sinking feeling. But even if it’s the latter, there is at least another 45 minutes of the concerto to enjoy!