The Philippine Philharmonic Orchestra’s homecoming reprise

There was a familiar stir leading up the Samsung Performing Arts Theater Auditorium. From the escalators to the elevators, the air was thick with curious anticipation. The Philippine Philharmonic Orchestra (PPO) was back from a triumphant nine-city United Kingdom tour, where they performed in venues of note and earned deserving standing ovations. The homecoming concert, Le Retour, is the second of many for the PPO’s Versatile, its 41st concert series.

At the auditorium, the nation’s premier orchestra members were busy fine tuning their instruments — fingers warming up methodically, bows gliding over strings, brass sending out short bursts. The musicians were lost in their own world of concentration, oblivious to the growing crowd. The gentlemen in suits, the ladies in long gowns — all attired in full gala regalia — were laser-focused. I had the nagging sense they certainly wished to impress the home crowd in every possible aspect that they could.

With a full house, I noticed several full groups of students in attendance. Maestro Grzegorz Nowak, the current music director and principal conductor of the PPO, showed up in an all-set, all-ready appearance, which ushered in utter silence. Nowak, who also serves as the permanent associate conductor of London’s Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, carried with him the authority of decades of international acclaim. His recordings have ranged from Brahms to Mendelssohn, from Shostakovich to Tchaikovsky, earning glowing praise from critics worldwide and coveted awards from sterling music institutions. Tonight, however, he was not in London or Vienna — he was primed to lead the PPO back to their home stage.

The evening opened with Goerges Bizet’s Carmen Suite No. 1, a piece bursting with color and brimming with drama. The bold Prélude foreshadowed tragedy, while the jubilant Aragonaise swept the audience into the bustling streets of Seville in Spain. The Intermezzo slowed the pace with its haunting flute and harp, and the Séguedille teased with flirtatious charm. The orchestra moved from mood to mood with ease, carrying us from seduction to danger, celebration to fate. By the end, it was impossible to sit still — Carmen’s fire had everyone on edge. It was clear to me why Carmen had become one of the best-selling operas in history.

Then came a moment of stillness. Diomedes Saraza Jr., the PPO’s concertmaster and artist-in-residence, stepped forward for Ralph Vaughan Williams’ The Lark Ascending. Hailed by the elite Edinburgh Music Review as “a violinist with a flawless intonation, expressive vibrato, and sweetest tone,” Saraza proved every word true. True to the critics’ reviews, his violin sang — believe it or not — like the bird itself. It was delicate and pure, climbing ever higher above the orchestra’s accompaniment. The audience sat in hushed silence. A seatmate — I suspect like so many others, held their breath, terrified to break the spell. When the final note faded into air, I imagined the hall exhaled in unison before breaking into applause.

The familiar fanciful strains of Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky’s Waltz from Swan Lake followed, lifting the mood once again. Though its premiere in Moscow in 1877 was deemed a failure, the classical tune has since become ballet’s crown jewel. The orchestra brought out both its elegance and grandeur — the sweeping lines, the lilting rhythms, and the soaring melodies: timeless. One could almost see Odette and Siegfried glide, caught in an epic of magic and betrayal, their love sealed in the genius-of-a-composer Tchaikovsky’s renowned music.

After intermission, we were all set for a flurry of music: Ludwig van Beethoven’s Symphony No. 5. Those four opening notes — fate knocking at the door — jolted the hall with raw energy: a journey through struggle and triumph. The strings attacked with urgency, the brass thundered, the woodwinds offered fleeting moments of hope. The house broke loose with cheers and applause. During our standing ovations, the conductor faced the audience and took several bows of his own.

The ovations at the end were thunderous. The audience rose again and again, drawing the orchestra back for repeated bows. When it seemed the evening had come to a close, Maestro Nowak and Saraza offered one final gift — an encore which reignited the hall’s energy: Niccolo Paganini’s 24 Caprices.

I wondered if the piece was even composed to be performed, or was simply a challenging exercise for the fingers, to showcase the upper limits of the human body. By the final chords, I realized — only the best, under immense pressure, can perform the obra.

All throughout the evening, the audience’s energy was unmistakable. Many were young students — perhaps from several international schools — trying to form their impressions. Their curiosity was infectious, a reminder of how this music continues to inspire fresh ears.

The Philippine reprise of their United Kingdom repertoire has left the audience in absolute, mouth-agape awe and bewilderment. On my way home, I wondered: If this is how they played abroad, then no one could question why applause thundered at every venue!

Bravo, Saraza! Bravo, Maestro Nowak! ¡Enhorabuena, The Philippine Philharmonic Ochestra!