At BOZAR on Friday, April 24, an evening unfolded that initially presented itself as a classically constructed program, but gradually revealed a much more layered field of tension between ambition, discipline, and interpretive coherence. The Belgian National Orchestra (BNO) under the direction of Antony Hermus, with Nemanja Radulović as soloist, did not opt for ease, but for contrast – and it was precisely there that both the strength and the friction of this concert were situated.
The evening opened with the Overture to Ruslan and Ludmila by Mikhail Glinka (1804-1857), a work that in its apparent lightness immediately sets the tone. What should have sounded sparkling and energetic received here a hurried and poorly coherent interpretation. The high tempo and the many musical ideas did not naturally find each other: entrances were uneven, phrases lacked direction, and the line unfolded laboriously. The result was unrest rather than elegance.
Next, Radulović took the stage for Sergei Prokofiev (1891-1953) – and the evening shifted noticeably. His interpretation of the Second Violin Concerto was not a demonstration of virtuosity for virtuosity's sake, but a musically thoughtful and intensely felt reading. What particularly stood out was the close bond between soloist, conductor, and orchestra: from the first note, a shared focus emerged in which technique was entirely in service of expression.
Radulović played with pronounced physical presence. His phrasing was flexible, sometimes angular, then again surprisingly fluid, and always charged with intention. In the slow movement, he revealed a restrained lyricism that never became sentimental, but rather convinced precisely through its fragility. The finale sharpened the dialogue further: the orchestra remained taut, the soloist pushed and pulled, and it was precisely in that tension that an interpretation emerged that truly lingered – musically coherent, communicatively strong, and convincing in its entirety.
Already weeks in advance, a signing session and meeting with Radulović had been announced, which was unexpectedly cancelled hours before the concert due to the unavailability of the announced CDs. This left part of the audience with a sense of disappointment, though the musical impact of the concert itself remained, of course, unaffected.
After the intermission came Prokofiev's Fifth Symphony, and there it became apparent how fragile the built-up arc of tension actually was. The fault lay least with the orchestra's entry: the musicians of the BNO played with impressive power and technical assurance, and sonically there was undoubtedly something there. But therein lay precisely the problem: what was audible was primarily volume, energy, and precision, rather than a sustained musical narrative.
Important context for this work: the Fifth Symphony was created in 1944, in a Soviet Union still completely in the grip of war. Officially, Prokofiev spoke of a "hymn to the free and happy human being," but that formulation inevitably carries a double bottom. Behind the monumentality lies tension, behind the triumph a certain ambiguity. Under Hermus, the symphony remained stuck in a succession of well-played passages that rarely developed into a convincing whole – all the more regrettable for a work with all the ingredients for a compelling reading. The notes were there, often sharp and emphatic, but the underlying arc of tension and emotional layering remained strikingly absent. Where Prokofiev sketched an ambiguous world – between heroism and bitterness, between façade and underlying tension – this reading remained too one-dimensional. The music was not so much built as produced: loud, emphatic, and at times exhausting in its directness.
This also carried through into the listening experience. Where the violin concerto seemed to stop time, the symphony dragged at moments without truly gripping the throat. The intensity turned into listening fatigue, and the accumulation of sound masses suggested effect rather than meaning. What was missing from this performance was precisely what this symphony needs to convince: a sense of direction, of necessity, of inner tension.
Thus the impression lingers of an evening with sharp contrasts. A strong and musically felt violin concerto formed the clear highlight, while the symphony – despite all commitment and technical qualities – ultimately disappointed through a lack of vision and significance. It was not an evening that leaves one indifferent, but one that clearly demonstrates how essential interpretation is: without depth, even the loudest sound remains empty.