Prokofiev's Alexander Nevsky Cantata, culled from his score for Eisenstein's film, is one of his most unambiguous pieces of Stalinist propaganda, a celebration of the defiance of the Russian people in the face of Teutonic invaders. But whatever its problematic politics, it is a piece tailor-made for the cavernous acoustics of the Albert Hall, with its uninhibited use of a huge orchestra and chorus. It made a thrilling climax to Daniele Gatti's Prom with his Royal Philharmonic Orchestra.
There are no shades of grey in Prokofiev's musical depictions of the good people of Mother Russia and the evil scourge of the German enemy. The Russians are defined by wholesome, hymn-like patriotism, the invaders by crunching dissonance and warped plainchants, a musical image of corrupted, heretical beliefs. It may not be a profound insight into the psychology of warfare, but as a gripping sonic spectacular, Prokofiev's music does not miss a trick.
The climax of his orchestral virtuosity is The Battle on the Ice, in which Nevsky finally vanquishes the enemy. The vast forces of the Crouch End Festival Chorus and London Philharmonic Choir gleefully recreated the gory downfall of the Teutons, and Gatti and the RPO players relished the cinematic immediacy of Prokofiev's scoring, with its furious string writing and ominous, brassy fanfares.
But there was a moment of touching calm in the middle of this violent tumult. Mezzo-soprano Ekaterina Gubanova sang a heart-rending lament for the victims in her aria, The Field of the Dead. At just 24, Gubanova already possesses a voice of astonishing power and poise.
Her singing far eclipsed the other vocal newcomer in the concert, baritone Detlef Roth, who performed Mahler's Rückert-Lieder in the first half. He may have been singing with delicacy and sensitivity, but his small voice barely registered in the hall, and he was not helped by Gatti's indulgent accompaniment.
Opening the concert, Strauss's Death and Transfiguration fared little better. Gatti's slow speeds could have been his way of dramatising Strauss's intense love of life, but rarely has the work's climactic transfiguration seemed so long in arriving.
