Wednesday, August 5th was a special musical day. Not only was there an evening concert by the Orchestra of the Zhejiang Conservatory of Music from China on the program of Young Euro Classic, but there was also plenty of music to be heard during the day. Under the columned gallery of the Konzerthaus, different chamber music ensembles from the orchestra performed alternating works in the afternoon. Despite the scorching heat, quite a few people stopped to watch these young musicians at work and listen to their heartwarming way of making music. It was a first encounter that immediately sparked curiosity about what this orchestra would present on the big stage in the evening.
The Orchestra of the Zhejiang Conservatory of Music is a still young ensemble. The orchestra academy was only founded in 2020 and brings together students from China and abroad. Through the conservatory and the Zhejiang Symphony Orchestra, they receive a strongly practice-oriented education. In the five years since its founding, they have built a remarkable repertoire, including all nine symphonies of Beethoven. Their performance in Berlin is therefore much more than a visit to a European festival: it is a conscious preparation for international orchestral life.
After the performances under the columned gallery, I had the opportunity to speak with trombonist Yu Fan and concertmaster Danfeng Shen about the orchestra and the program. Pianist Sun Yutong also gave me an illuminating perspective on the piano concerto he would perform that evening. Yu Fan pointed out that Chinese composers and musicians increasingly want their music to be heard outside of China: alongside Bruckner, the orchestra brings two Chinese compositions to Berlin to showcase contemporary Chinese musical culture and at the same time engage in dialogue with the Western tradition. Danfeng Shen emphasized that the stay in Europe means more to the young musicians than just performing: they also take home the encounter with European colleagues, the experience of the Konzerthaus, and making music within an international festival.
But especially the subsequent rehearsal provided a special insight into the way work is conducted here. Immediately after the chamber music performances, the orchestra rehearsal began, and for the first time I really got acquainted with the two Chinese works on the program. The first impression was one of a rich and intense sound experience. Conductor Zhang Yi knew very precisely what color he had in mind and consulted carefully with composer Zhang Ying on the Akademische Festouvertüre. Passages were played over and over again until the desired balance was achieved. Yu Fan compared that interplay to a puzzle: "We have to keep making it bigger and eventually bring the whole work together." What I observed during the rehearsal was therefore not a casual preparation for the concert, but a disciplined search for the right musical result.
A Colorful Overture
That commitment paid off immediately in the evening performance of the Akademische Festouvertüre by Zhang Ying (°1983). The work was written to commemorate the tenth anniversary of the Zhejiang Conservatory of Music and had its German premiere during this concert. The title obviously alludes to Brahms, but musically Zhang Ying chooses an entirely different path. Her score is built from different interwoven layers and draws, among other sources, from Chinese musical sources.
The result is easy on the ear, but far from simple. Behind the apparent naturalness of the melodic lines lies a carefully constructed score in which the different orchestra groups constantly respond to one another. There are moments that recall the rich orchestral worlds of Carl Orff or John Williams, but Zhang Ying clearly writes her own language. Under the direction of Zhang Yi, the orchestra achieves a clear profile and the different instrumental groups sound particularly well-balanced against each other.
The orchestra commits itself with great conviction to the new work: you can hear this not only in the massive passages but also in the many solo moments. The instrumental mastery is remarkably great here, and the music sounds fresh, self-assured, and is played with visible pleasure. What was still a work in progress during the rehearsal proves to be a score during the concert in which the young musicians clearly feel at home.
An Encounter Between Two Musical Worlds
With Er Huang by Chen Qigang (°1951), who celebrates his 75th birthday on August 8th, this encounter between traditions then takes on a much more intimate and at the same time deeper form. The composer was educated in China and moved to Paris in 1983, where he became the last student of Olivier Messiaen. Since then, his musical life has moved between China and Europe. In Er Huang, both worlds come together audibly: melodic memories of classical Peking Opera are connected with an idiom in which the influence of Messiaen is never far away. "Chinese music comes from our blood," Yu Fan told me earlier that day. A simple formulation, but it immediately explains why this music feels so natural during the performance.
It is a fascinating score, and to be honest, this was my first encounter with music by Chen Qigang – a discovery that immediately leaves you wanting more. In particular, the way piano and orchestra find each other is remarkable. Sun Yutong begins with a soft, refined touch, with every note carefully weighed. Then a dialogue emerges with the double basses, later other strings take up the conversation. The pianistic passages do not have an accompanying orchestra sound next to them, but a reflecting answer – it is as if the different orchestra groups each respond in their own way to what the pianist is telling.
Sun Yutong is highly convincing in this: his involvement with the work is audible and palpable in every note. He does not limit himself to virtuosically realizing what the score demands, but seems constantly to engage with the musical development. Interspersed are memories of the Chinese musical tradition, which are taken up by the strings and sometimes develop into compelling dialogues. The orchestral palette is also impressive. At certain moments the sound bursts open with cymbals, bells, xylophone and celesta, while the piano remains fully audible in the midst of it all. The great eruptions then receive a counterweight in passages where the music gradually becomes thinner and eventually seems almost to fade away.
It is precisely in this that the great strength of Er Huang lies: nothing sounds accidental. The transparency of the score, the carefully balanced orchestration and the tension between the Chinese melodic memory and the Messiaen-influenced idiom make it a particularly fascinating work. You are even moved by it. It is music that does not try to place two cultures in opposition to each other, but simply lets them sound together. That the performers also fully embrace this makes the experience all the more powerful. Sun Yutong proves himself here as a committed soloist and the orchestra shows that it can approach a contemporary score with great intensity and refinement. I can only hope that Er Huang will also appear on a concert programme with us one day.
A different musical landscape
After the intermission comes the big leap: from contemporary Chinese music to Anton Bruckner's Second Symphony (1824-1896). A bold choice for the debut at Young Euro Classic, as the Second is not among Bruckner's most performed symphonies. The young musicians take on the challenge convincingly: virtually every detail is audible, the woodwinds deliver particularly strong work and the double basses also get a fine role. Even the second violins, which fade somewhat into the background in many performances, remain strikingly present. The dedication with which the orchestra plays this music deserves admiration without question.
Yet a certain reservation remains afterwards. Not because the notes would be missing – on the contrary, virtually everything is there – but because the great musical breath of Bruckner comes less naturally to life. To paraphrase Gustav Mahler: the essence of music does not lie solely in the notes. Zhang Yi keeps the whole tightly in hand, but his interpretation remains too controlled. The first movement, Moderato, is taken noticeably fast and the Andante also gets little room for the meditative, almost sacred qualities that can lie in this music. Bruckner certainly does not need to be played heavily or slowly, but his music must be able to breathe.
This becomes especially apparent in the conclusion of the first movement and in the finale, where the music sometimes almost takes on the character of a march driven towards a too effective end. Bruckner was an organist and his symphonies have, even when they become exuberant and monumental, a very own relationship to space, resonance and silence. It is precisely this quality that should be sought even more strongly in a future encounter with his music.
The chosen chamber orchestra instrumentation does not always help here: at some moments the strings are relatively limited in the face of the wind force, making the balance less straightforward. The choice of the 1877 version also does not simplify the task. I myself prefer the original version, the Erstfassung from 1872, which strikes me as richer and more exciting and offers more possibilities for contrast and development. The later version performed here therefore requires all the more a strong interpretive vision that knows how to carry the great arcs of tension from one clear musical idea. It is precisely here that this performance remained somewhat too much on the surface.
It would, however, be unfair to view this Bruckner performance primarily through that criticism. For a young orchestra that has mastered a large part of the classical and romantic repertoire in barely a few years, it remains an impressive achievement to present this Second Symphony so accurately. The difference with the Chinese works was mainly that a strong artistic commitment and a natural affinity with the idiom were palpable there. With Bruckner, it was above all the careful control of the musical material that was convincing; the next step is to connect an even more personal interpretative vision to that.
The audience responded with particular enthusiasm. The hall of the Konzerthaus was filled to the rafters and once again the strikingly young composition stood out, with quite a few children even present. After individual movements, applause already rang out, which is not customary with Bruckner. Perhaps that too is a sign of what Young Euro Classic wants to achieve: music that is not approached as a museum piece, but as a living experience.
On the way to its own voice
And that is precisely where the value of this concert ultimately lies. The most interesting contrast was not that between China and Europe, but that between music that still has to fully conquer its place in the international concert hall and a repertoire that has been part of the European tradition for centuries. In the Akademische Festouvertüre by Zhang Ying and especially in Er Huang by Chen Qigang, it became clear how rich contemporary Chinese music can be when performed by musicians who clearly understand it from within.
"We must bring them together," Yu Fan told me about the two musical worlds that this programme brought together, because "ultimately we live in the same world." Perhaps that is the finest summary of this evening: the Orchestra of the Zhejiang Conservatory of Music came to Berlin to make Chinese music heard, but also to measure itself against a repertoire that originated outside its own cultural tradition.
This concert was a snapshot of a young generation in full transition. The technical baggage is there, as is the discipline, the curiosity and the enthusiasm to discover new musical worlds. What already convinced today was the quality of these young musicians. From that quality, an increasingly personal musical voice can emerge. And that is precisely why this concert leaves us wanting more.