This concert on March 10, 2026, featuring Tchaikovsky’s Symphony No 5, was part of a new concept, utilising a different format to the SSO’s usual concerts. This was the “Listen To This” series which, I understood, would be “part-performance, part-guided tour”, with the conductor chatting about the music throughout. When I first heard this I felt a tinge of alarm as, under normal circumstances, I like to immerse myself in an orchestral work and often resent my concentration being interrupted; it’s bad enough having to cope with the occasional advertisements which automatically appear on YouTube, which we have to skip over.
However, I needn’t have worried. This splendid presentation by the personable conductor Benjamin Northey was informative, educational and thoroughly enjoyable. He began his analysis of the symphony by having the orchestra play an excerpt from the fourth movement – the Finale – which ends on a note of triumph, apparently representing the composer’s journey from the suffering which had been expressed earlier in the work, to redemption. It suggested Tchaikovsky’s determination not to submit to fate.
Northey’s decision to present this music first was in my view a brilliant idea, as the music in that movement was powerful enough to remain in the mind, as a point of departure, in clear contrast to the music of the first movement, which was analysed next. The opening bars of the first movement have been described as a funeral march. Listening to the sombre colours of the clarinet and strings it’s difficult not to interpret the music as exemplifying inner anxiety and loneliness, or as Northey described it, Tchaikovsky’s “crippling uncertainty, his complete resignation before fate”.
Northey then went on to identify three themes from the first movement, which were played in turn by the SSO, with commentary on each by the conductor. I found this approach absolutely beneficial, as it clearly illustrated Tchaikovsky’s brilliance on two counts: his ability as a creator of orchestral colours; and his unsurpassed ability to create memorable melodies.
To listen to any Tchaikovsky orchestral work is to experience wave after wave of glorious music coming at you, an exquisite pleasure for the listener. In the case of this symphony there are several colours, particularly at the bottom of the orchestral sound which to my mind, emphasise the darkness that apparently is in Tchaikovsky’s mind. For example consider the last few bars of the first movement which end with a moving bassoon figure and very low notes on the double basses. In my view that sound anticipates some of the deeply emotional colours one finds in Tchaikovsky’s great masterpiece, Symphony No 6. Moreover I think one gets more out of the fifth symphony by watching out for the deep sound of the double basses throughout the whole work.
The other quality of Tchaikovsky’s modus operandi which the SSO’s excerpts clearly illustrated is his great gift for composing melodies that are memorable and hummable. This was illustrated in a practical way by Northey asking the audience to sing certain passages. I have never seen this before at a symphony concert. Who would have thought that this would work? This might have been a risky strategy, if the audience turned out to be unresponsive. On the contrary, however, the concert hall audience was surprisingly adept in singing these passages. Hats off to Northey for bringing this off.
Perhaps the highlight of the concert was Northey’s treatment of the themes in the second movement, particularly the famous French horn melody which is the supreme example of Tchaikovsky’s unsurpassed ability to create melody. On this occasion it was played by the SSO’s guest principal horn, Sydney Braunfeld. This lyrical melody, has been said to “sound like a yearning for fleeting love and comfort.” Tchaikovsky himself once described it as a “ray of light.” The friend who accompanied me to the concert was deeply impressed by Braunfeld’s playing. She wrote in a subsequent email “I was very moved by the soloist’s performance. The instrument was played to sound so soft, delicate, mellow – a really exceptional melody masterly executed, with exceptional sensitivity.”
All who are familiar with the music of the American country singer John Denver know that he famously borrowed the melody to compose his popular Annie’s Song in the mid-70s. Also, I’m old enough to remember the series of commercials on Australian TV in the late 70s and early 80s which borrowed themes from this movement to promote a cigarette brand called Winfield, which helped to make the Australian actor and comedian Paul Hogan a household name. So, in many ways, these elements of Tchaikovsky’s music can be said to be in the collective unconscious.
Of all the orchestral composers in the history of classical music it is perhaps Tchaikovsky who possessed the greatest melodic gift. This sort of gift has perhaps been best exemplified in the 20th century by composers of pop music, such as Paul McCartney, Brian Wilson and Benny Andersson & Björn Ulvaeus, who composed music for the Swedish band ABBA. But I feel it’s indisputable that Tchaikovsky had that sort of melodic gift in spades in the 19th Century.
Northey’s discussion of the third movement made a lot of sense in that he pointed out that this movement, which can be regarded as a relatively light waltz, should be considered in the light of Tchaikovsky’s experience as a ballet composer. Think of Tchaikovsky’s most famous ballet Swan Lake – his very first ballet, and his most popular – where he demonstrated his melodic gift for the first time, more than a decade before the fifth symphony.
To be honest, there’s not much more to be said about this performance except that it provided a great night which, by the way, emphasised what a superb orchestra the Sydney Symphony Orchestra is, with such a gorgeous sound that it’s thrilling to be in the concert hall of the SOH to hear it live. The friend who accompanied me on the night agreed with me that it was a memorable experience.
I read somewhere that Tchaikovsky’s Symphony No 5 is generally regarded as the weakest of his symphonies. I’m not in a position to agree or disagree with that judgement, if we’re talking about all six of Tchaikovsky’s symphonies. If however this applies to his three most mature works, symphonies 4,5 and 6, then that’s another matter. In my experience the fifth symphony is possibly eclipsed by the fourth. Certainly, in my view, the fifth does not come anywhere near the Pathetique Symphony No 6, Tchaikovsky’s greatest and final masterpiece. So perhaps the fifth is the weakest of the three identified, that is to say, numbers 4, 5 and 6. That would make sense to me, while I’d maintain that No 5 is still unquestionably a masterpiece.
Be this as it may, this presentation on March 10, 2026 by conductor Benjamin Northey was a stimulating prelude to the much-anticipated Scottish conductor Donald Runnicles’ forthcoming presentation of the same symphony on two nights in April. That’s something to look forward to.
This concert took place at the Sydney Opera House on March 10, 2026, and featured the Sydney Symphony Orchestra conducted by Benjamin Northey.
