London Symphony Orchestra, Harry Christophers (replacing Simon Rattle). Lucy Crowe soprano, Andrew Staples tenor, Roderick Williams baritone, LS0 Chorus. Haydn – The Creation (sung in English)

This Thursday performance was part of the Barbican’s  40th Anniversary celebrations, and there was a free glass of prosecco to greet everyone with a ticket, plus some young /local community performers. There seemed to be a number of people – at least in the Stalls – who sounded in their conversation like senior Arts admin / BBC types. On the stairs leaving, I was behind Nicholas Kenyon, ex-BBC and the administrator of the Barbican for 14 years until he fell on his sword, accused of institutional racism, who was being greeted by all and sundry. Inevitably there was a speech – several in fact- referencing the last 40 years, including somebody gushing about the presence of the LSO for that period, and having ‘one of the greatest orchestras in the world’ associated with the hall. This is faintly absurd when their music director has spent the last 5 years denigrating the place and trying to get somebody to build a new concert hall! And, indeed, the inadequacy of the hall is very apparent – no organ, cramped space for chorus, let alone the much-complained-about acoustics. There was also a speech and dedication of the concert to the people of Ukraine – while this is a very deserving cause and issue, I can’t help reminding myself that people in Afghanistan / Yemen / South Sudan have been as much impacted on by war and violence as, sadly, people in Ukraine and without quite the same UK solidarity or appeal for funds

Because of the Barbican junketing, the performance had a later start – 8pm – and played without a break. This was good – the third Adam and Eve section seems slighter than the other two sections and running at a lower level of inspiration, so playing it straight through gives that section less important in structural terms. I hadn’t realised till I read the programme notes that no-one knows who wrote the libretto. It’s clearly a contemporary or near contemporary piece of writing – one theory suggests it was put to Handel, who never got round to working on it. Whatever the origins of the work, I have found it increasingly a joy to listen to – always inventive, joyful, and radiating contentment without sounding complacent.

Maybe, perhaps, because of the space problems on the Barbican stage, maybe, perhaps, because of some effect Simon Rattle wanted to achieve, the chorus was interestingly placed – not behind the orchestra as per normal but in front of the orchestra in the first 3-4 rows of central Stalls. This meant they sat facing the orchestra when they weren’t singing, and then all stood up and turned clockwise to face the audience when it was their turn to sing. I was probably too near to them to be able to judge the impact – it didn’t seem to affect the accuracy and responsiveness of the singing, and they made a thrilling sound (perhaps sometimes blocking the sound of the orchestra from where I was).  Apparently Simon Halsey, their Chorus Director, stood at the back of the stalls to direct the singers he had prepared, so he rather than TV monitors showing the conductor was what was guiding the chorus. It must still have been quite disconcerting for Harry Christophers!

The soloists were all good but one of my favourite singers, Lucy Crowe, was much more than that  – she offered singing of a quite extraordinarily high standard: not just beauty of voice, but also her clarity of diction,  not just her coloratura and easy flowing top notes but also her way with words – the way in which words like ‘enchanted’ and ‘cooing’ were floated to give an extra sense of delight. The two big arias – the birds one (“On mighty pens uplifted”) and “With verdure clad” – were quite outstanding. The other two singers were good but less outstandingly distinctive, and maybe some of the lower notes were slightly uncomfortable for Roderick Williams

Simon Rattle had been booked to conduct this but he made another cancellation, recovering from a minor operation. Harry Christophers certainly achieved a rhythmically vital and energetic performance . Quite what Rattle would have done with it more than what Christophers achieved I am not sure. The LSO were excellent, with polished woodwind contributions, and the precision of the music-making at all times was impressive

I thought this was very good but somehow not quite as overwhelming as it should have been, given the line-up – I am not sure the chorus positioning quite worked for me, from where I was sitting.

String Quartet No. 1, “Kreutzer Sonata”, Janacek; String Quartet No 2, in D Minor, Smetana: Fibonacci Quartet

The Fibonacci String Quartet was formed in September 2019 and consists of students of David Takeno and Louise Hopkins at the Guildhall School of Music and Drama in London, UK. It is an international ensemble, bringing together Czech, Belgian, Swedish and Montenegrin nationalities. The quartet is coached and mentored by Krysia Osostowicz, a renowned violinist and chamber musician. They stepped in at short notice to replace another covid-struck quartet.

They sounded mature and confident and this was an enjoyable 50 minutes or so. Neither work do I know well, though I have a recording of the two works. The Smetana I would want to come back to and listen again – Schoenberg apparently called it the ‘first piece of modern music’ ever created;  I am not sure on what grounds……But it is certainly a substantial interesting piece of music. So, is the Janacek of course, but – maybe the performance, maybe the fact that I was having to walk everywhere because of the train strike, I wasn’t as gripped by the Janacek, and, sadly, drifted off to sleep at one or two points. I am sure that’s my problem, not the players………..

Sir András Schiff, fortepiano; Erich Höbarth, violin,  and Christophe Coin, ‘cello. Joseph Haydn : Two piano sonatas and two trios

This was meant to be part of a Haydn chamber music festival going on at the Wigmore Hall throughout the week (I was just attending one of the performances) with an intended programme of 2 string quartets by Haydn plus one each of his piano trios and sonatas. Unfortunately, the violist of Quatuor Mosaïques, scheduled to perform with Sir Andras Schiff, tested positive for Covid a week or so ago, and so they were unable to leave Austria to join the concerts. This in turn necessitated a last-minute rethink and programme changes, in order for the festival to go ahead.

Sir András Schiff agreed to play additional Haydn Sonatas in order to save the festival. This concert, as with the others, ended up including two of the six Haydn Piano Trios previously advertised across the week. The Trios were performed by Sir András, Erich Höbarth and Christophe Coin. All this meant that there was a fair amount of uncertainty as to what was going to be played each evening. We learned, as there were no programme sheets, from Sir Andras Schiff’s introductions to the programmed works what we were hearing. So I can’t give chapter and verse on what I heard – the two piano sonatas I recall were dated to the 1770’s – so fairly early – and the two piano trios were from his London period or later. Sir Andras was playing a fortepiano made by Paul Mcnulty after Walter & Sohn from an original of 1805, so pretty contemporary to Haydn. Its thin, tinny and unresonant tone took a bit of getting used to, but, when the ear did adjust, it was remarkable how clear and transparent it made the music and how relevant the performing styles of musicians like Alfred Brendel and Paul Lewis, who emphasise clarity in their performances on ‘normal’ pianos, are to Mozart and Haydn. Sir Andras made the piano sonatas sound somehow more delicate, more nuanced in emotion. I thought all the performances were absorbing and left me constantly attentive to what was happening in the music. None of them were particularly conventional ‘jolly’ Haydn – they all had dark undercurrents, particularly the first sonata played, a product of Haydn’s Sturm und Drang period

The 85 minutes of this concert, without an interval, went astonishingly quickly. I thought this was a great evening – and so did the audience, who cheered loudly!

Mirga Gražinytė-Tyla – Conductor; Patricia Kopatchinskaja – Violin; Tchaikovsky Romeo and Juliet, Stravinsky Violin Concerto, Tchaikovsky Symphony No. 4

This was an incredibly powerful and exciting – but also stylish – concert. I am sure it will be one of my highlights of the year, when I look back in December.

It was a concert of course very much with the thought of the conflict in Ukraine in the minds of everyone in the hall. The conductor’s rostrum and the screen behind the orchestra were both covered with the blue and yellow colours of the Ukrainian flag. Stephen Maddocks, the Orchestra’s MD came on beforehand to say that the concert would be dedicated to the recognition of the suffering of Ukraine, that we must also remember the many ordinary Russians suffering as well, in addition to those who have bravely criticised Russia’s aggression, and that the CBSO was firmly against any ‘cancel’ culture for Russian music – music offered the opportunity for people to understand and be moved across cultures. There are indeed aspects of the current support for Ukraine that strike me as dubious – the mass cancellation of activities, events, performers, sports-people simply because they are Russian seems to be a distinctly wrong note and likely to do more harm than good (though fair enough if they have displayed unequivocal support for Putin now or in the past, as with Gergiev or Netrebko – but not many ordinary Russians would be demonstrating that).

Mirga then came on stage to deliver some quite outstanding Tchaikovsky performances. There were common features here:

• Using the acoustic properties of the hall to maximum effect to provide a lively detailed orchestral sound
• Relatively measured speeds, and a disinclination to speed up and slow down to deliver instant excitement (the Leningrad Phil Mravinsky recordings are very similar in this respect). This means that the conductor is letting the music, and the musicians breathe, and giving the orchestra have time to phrase effectively and sensitively. Another outcome of measured speeds is greater rhythmic vitality
• Very careful control of sound dynamics
• Excellent balance of the different elements in the orchestra – no braying brass or overwhelming percussion and timps
• But on the other hand, letting things rip when the roof really needs to be raised!

I hadn’t sat near to Mirga before at a concert – she is fascinating to watch, particularly the use of her hands to sculpt what she wants from the orchestra, and clearly a great orchestral communicator

It must be nearly 57 years since I first heard Romeo and Juliet on record. I remember going to a live concert  – one of those Tchaikovsky Victor Hochhauser spectaculars with 1812 guns – in the Albert Hall in about 1966 where it was played. Mirga/CBSO’s performance must be the best I have ever heard – the strings soared, beautiful woodwind playing in the opening, brass and percussion thrilling in the fights.

The Tchaikovsky 4 was, similarly, one of the best I have heard live. There was, again, some beautiful playing (particularly oboe and bassoon), thrilling sounds (timpanist making a most exciting noise), and luscious strings. I have never heard the final downward cascade of strings at the end of the first movement (slowed down, a la Mravinsky) sound so powerful, so charged with emotion. in any other live performance, or the central part of the slow movement so drenched with emotion as the strings welled up. I also enjoyed the rhythmic punch of the third movement

In a very different tradition, I also hugely enjoyed Patricia Kopatchinskaja (the Moldovan-Austrian-Swiss violinist)’s performance of the Stravinsky concerto. It’s not a work I’ve heard much live and I really enjoyed focusing on it – it goes much beyond Stravinsky’s more tedious neo-classical works, and has much of the bite of the earlier rhythmically focused pre WW1 pieces, as well as the grace and poise of Pulcinella and other similar pieces. Ms Kopatchinskaya radiated physical and instrumental energy and focus – her physical presence, barefoot!, helped you to follow the forward momentum of the piece. She gave her imagined cadenza for the work as an encore.

The orchestra as a whole concluded the concert with a moving melancholy piece called, I think, ‘“Melody from the High Pass” by Ukrainian composer Myroslav Skoryk (1938-2020)  

BBC Philharmonic, conducted by Mark Wigglesworth. Vaughan Williams: Symphony No 3 (Pastoral); On Wenlock Edge; Symphony No 5. Tenor soloist: Alessandro Fisher

Sadly, the underlying theme of this concert (two war-based symphonies) was only too relevant to the 26 February 2022, 4 days after the Russian invasion of Ukraine. I was pleased there were no speeches – the music said all that was necessary, and was appreciated by a pretty full Bridgewater Hall.

This was the first of a series of celebratory concerts for VW’s 150th birth anniversary – I think I am going to a few other concerts in this series. Compared to the Halle in recent months, the BBC Philharmonic seemed a bit under-strength (6 double-basses, 8 cellos) and scratchy – sounding. The strings had a less full sound than the Halle, possibly because of size or playing style, or positioning, the wind players were not very characterful, and the brass sounded occasionally tentative. What did come across very well in these readings was a sense of transparency in the orchestral sound – different contrapuntal layers were very clear, and also the Ravel influence could be very clearly be heard through that clarity of approach. There was no sense of warm mushiness or complacency – a coldness whistled through all the bars. But sometimes the playing did seem a little rhythmically fuzzy – whether this was Mark Wiggleworth’s or the players’ responsibility I am not sure

The VW3 I found a bit nondescript as a reading – the first two movements seemed rather much of a muchness and too unvaried (maybe that is just how the work is). The bugle playing was fine and haunting though……The scherzo went well and there were impassioned climaxes in the last movement. I always think having a male voice for the last movement is more appropriate – the link with WW1 better made and Mr Fisher made a fine contribution. Somehow this was much less moving than the performance I remember given by Martyn Brabbins and the BBCSO in July 2018

The VW5 went well in the first three movements, and the third, slow, one was very moving. I though Mark Wigglesworth took the last movement too fast, until slowing down for the peaceful conclusion. This is one of my favourite works, and I still remember the performance of it I heard first, in 1973 with Sir Adrian Boult at the Proms. I didn’t think at the time, but think now, how wonderful to hear this work performed by someone who had, if he had not been the conductor of its premiere, had known it, and the composer, intimately for all of its 30 years. How strange to hear it nearly 50 years later………But this was not as effective a performance as the LSO Rattle one given at the virtual Proms in 2020, a beautifully nuanced and subtle performance.

I enjoyed Mr Fisher’s singing of On Wenlock Edge very much but I did think – this was the 1920’s full orchestra version, a fruit of VW’s sessions with Ravel – that I would have preferred to hear the chamber music version; the snap and crackle of the string quartet in the first song would have much better conveyed the howling violent wind….

Vingt regards sur l’Enfant-Jésus,  Olivier Messiaen: Reinis Zariņš piano

This was the second of two concerts unexpectedly heard when my Welsh holiday was cancelled. I have a recording of this work (indeed two of them!) and therefore I know it to some extent. However, I have never been to a live performance, and probably another won’t come my way again….Messiaen’s vast cycle (1944) is a meditation on the infancy of Jesus. The first thing that struck me is how long the work is, listened to at one sitting – this performance was well over two hours. The second is, alongside that point, how little this performance felt like that. I was staggered after the concert when I looked at my watch and it said 21:46! That suggests that the performance had been exceptional in its concentration and communication. I very rarely lost focus. I think focus was helped by the decision (by the Hall? the pianist?) to do a surtitle sequence for each of the ‘Regards’, giving the number, name and the relevant Biblical quotation attached to it. The other, to my mind, rather staggering aspect of this performance is that Mr Zariņš was playing the work from memory –certainly (while not necessarily an indicator of musical quality) a considerable technical achievement and surely allowing him more mental space to focus on expression and timing. A previous UK performance a few years ago by Mr Zariņš, who comes from Latvia, had a very good review from The Guardian: his ‘embrace of the music’s monumentality and its intimacy was remarkable. Taking the 20-piece cycle in a single sweep and playing from memory, he riveted the attention: two hours … flew by, transcending time.’ My thoughts, exactly!  I really enjoyed re-listening to this work – it must be 3-4 years since I put my CD of it on, and I loved listening to the Turangalila Symphony-like splodgy sounds in some of the grander Regards. Mr Zariņš could both summon up extraordinary power for something like the Tenth Regard, and quiet stillness for some of the other movements. I thought this was an absorbing and impressive performance. The only spoiler was the gentleman in the audience who, after more than 2 hours of rapt silence, could not help himself, in the reverberating seconds of silence after the final chord, delivering an epic and very loud sneeze. I am sure people should be able to stifle their sneezes! There might be an audible grunt annoying a few people around you, if you stifled it, but this was a veritable explosion!

I should also say something about the acoustics of the Wigmore Hall – I was sitting fairly near to the back for both these concerts, but never experienced this as being distant and always felt engaged. The piano sound was resonant but not cloudy – just right for this work. What a great place to hear chamber and solo music, as many have said before……

Dmitry Shostakovich: Suite on Verses of Michelangelo Buonarroti Op. 145; Viola Sonata Op. 147: Ignat Solzhenitsyn, piano; Simon Barrad, baritone; Timothy Ridout, viola

Tuesday 22 February started with my assumption that I would be spending the next three days with an old friend of mine in Wales, half way up a valley without wifi, electricity and phone signal, a very agreeable prospect.  I set off on the train in relatively calm – even sunny – weather but became completely stuck at Shrewsbury – the trains to Machynlleth (where I was meant to be meeting my friend) weren’t running, and no taxis or rail replacement bus services could get through flooded roads in the aftermath of Storms Dudley, Eunice and Franklin. After 4 hours of hanging around Shrewsbury Station, seeing if any element of the situation was going to change (it wasn’t!), I gave up and decided to head for London to spend a couple of nights there and go to two Wigmore Hall programmes. This was the first of the two – and very good it was! Neither concert would have normally quite provoked me into the cost of a trip to London, but, as I was in holiday mode anyway, and given that I would in all probability never hear any of these works again live in my lifetime, it was definitely worth going!

The Shostakovich Michelangelo verses were written in the last years of his life – a kind of equivalent to Das Lied von der Erde. They are stark, spare, and definitely not full of lightness and humour….. not even much saracasm! Some of them deal with exile (in Shostakovich’s life, internal, though there were many whom he knew who were or became actual exiles – Rostropovich, for instance, or Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn, and indeed the pianist at this performance, Ignat Solzhenitsyn, is the middle son of the author). Some of the songs expressed the difficulties of speaking truth to power and, for me, the two best, most immediate, ones were those entitled Death and Immortality. The latter used a piece of music which Shostakovitch had written when he was 9, thus giving that last song a sense of what he had achieved creatively over a span of 60 years of composing. It was sad to reflect on this distinguished contribution to Russian culture, and the beautiful sound of the Russian language, on the day when Putin recognised parts of the Ukraine as independent states, and two days before Ukraine as invaded. Simon Barrad, an American singer I’ve not come across before,  produced what sounded to me like idiomatic Russian singing, often with some beautiful sounds though occasionally a bit strained. I have never heard this work before. The spareness of gesture is impressive, and it is gripping throughout, even though at first there is seemingly little variation in tone

The Viola Sonata is work I know a little – I have a recording and have listened to it a few times. I really like it – the beautiful slow-moving last movement, based around a few phrases of the Moonlight Sonata, the very last of Shostakovich’s sardonic scherzos, with a hint of kletzmer, and the long dark opening movement. It is very affecting to hear that last movement as the final work Shostakovich ever completed. Timothy Ridout made a stunningly beautiful and mellow sound. I thought this was an outstanding performance – well worth missing a cold night in a remote Welsh cottage for…..

Martyn Brabbins, conductor; Jamie Manton, director; Tom Scutt, set & costumes;  Lucy Carter, lighting. Cast: Sally Matthews, Vixen; Pumeza Matshikiza, Fox; Lester Lynch, Forester; Madeleine Shaw, Forester’s Wife / Owl; Alan Oke, Schoolmaster / Mosquito; Clive Bayley, Priest / Badger; Ossian Huskinson, a Poacher; John Findon, Innkeeper / Cock; Gweneth Ann Rand, Innkeeper’s Wife / Hen; Claire Barnett Jones, Dog 

I braved storms and dodgy rail connections to get to this show, starting out from home near Sheffield at 0810, getting soaking wet on the way to the station in 50 mph winds, and getting to the Coliseum at 2.45pm. I was rewarded with a moving and lively new production, in fact having its opening performance (the original first night on Friday having been cancelled by Storm Eunice). The production handled the how-to-play-the-animals issue well – the vixen and fox were relatable to the audience but clearly different in lighting and costumes from the humans. Somehow the production gave far more emphasis to the animals than the humans. The schoolmaster and priest were much more cyphers than in some of the other productions I’ve seen – literally grey figures in dark costumes. Very effective community engagement work had led to a lot of extra children as animals too, emphasising this point, the centrality of the life of the animals. We saw or sensed little of the Forester’s inner life, his relationship with his wife, and there was none of the sexual tension you sometimes find in productions between the Vixen and Forester (though there was a splendid bit where the Forester and his wife plonked down on the sofa to see the telly, bewildering the Vixen….)

The set seemed to be a logging station in a forest, which emphasised the intersection of the lives of humans and animals. Colour and variety were given by vertical banners that streamed downward with fascinatingly different images of the natural world, though several sheds didn’t seem to be adding much. The human desolation and sadness for times passed and lost in the human world through climate change in the prelude to Act 3 was mirrored by the vertical banners representing the forest collapsing. A textile carpet of flowers appeared for the Forester’s final, moving reflections on nature. The animals for the most part were colourfully costumed and lit – I loved the frogs, and a special mention for the toadstools! I got a bit confused by the hens who seemed to turn up in the forest as part of the Vixen’s wedding…! On a couple of occasions, a door opened out to a blazing white at the back of the stage, I’m not sure what this was about- some sense of divine unity beyond the different worlds? There’s nothing in the text to suggest that, really……the opera celebrates the cyclic returns and transient beauty of Nature rather than anything transcendent. Sometimes I felt the design team had just been a bit defeated by the size of the Coliseum stage…on the other hand the starkness of the sets really threw you into the drama at the beginning which felt good – it took a while for me to remember what was supposed to be going on!

Musically the star of the show was the orchestra and Martyn Brabbins – some wonderfully sharp rhythmic and sensitive playing and the warmth of the Coliseum acoustic is ideally suited to Janacek’s orchestral sound. The sound at the end was glorious…. The chorus went astray once or twice in the wedding scene and weren’t fully as one with the orchestra but no doubt that’ll sort itself out in later performances. All the singers were strong – Lester Lynch was excellent in the Forester’s final soliloquy and Sally Matthews clear and lyrical throughout as the Vixen. There were some distinguished senior figures in some of the cameo roles – Clive Bayley and Alan Oke as priest and schoolmaster (whose diction was the best – some of the other singers required the audience to constantly refer to the surtitles. What, I wonder, did I do 50 years ago at the Coliseum if singers were unintelligible? I suspect the lack of surtitles impelled them to communicate more through clarity of diction, something that singers now don’t need to bother about…..)

Anyway, thoroughly recommended!!! (though I just received an email today saying that I have a ticket for the Barrie Kosky / Mirga Munich production of this work in July – will very much be looking forward to that!!)

Stravinsky – Funeral Song; Shostakovich – Concerto for Piano, Trumpet and Strings; Mahler – Symphony No.1. Conductor, Carlo Rizzi;  Sofya Gulyak, piano; Gareth Small, trumpet

This was a very enjoyable concert, based around the early works of three great masters. I think I heard the Stravinsky a few years ago at the Proms – it had been stuffed behind a cupboard at the St Petersburg Conservatoire at some point after its first performance in 1909 and lost for a century till rediscovered in 2015. Stravinsky’s tribute to his teacher Rimsky-Korsakov is a sombre affair, and, given how near it is in timing to the Firebird Suite, remarkably unlike the early ballets – far less flashy, far less folk-Russian, far less of a focus on rhythm. It sounded more like Scriabin or the Rachmaninov of the ‘Isle of the Dead’, and, I guess, indicates a ‘road not taken’ by Stravinsky.

I thought I knew the Shostakovich piece, but I think I was confusing it with the second concerto, and apart from the final riotous gallop, I hadn’t remembered much about it. I enjoyed this performance very much, though maybe it missed the last degree of mordant humour or crazy lack of restraint – maybe Ms Gulyak might have provided slightly more characterisation at points….But it was very good – the bite of the ‘romantic’ tunes, the underlying sardonic humour was well conveyed.

The Mahler symphony is one I have known since I was a teenager. Curiously I haven’t been to live performances of it very often – the best I can remember was by Simon Rattle and the Berlin Phil at the Proms in about 2016. This performance wasn’t in that league but was very good – the Halle brass again sounding very fine, as they did in the Mahler 3 a few weeks earlier, the woodwind providing very effective contributions in the first and third movements and the strings sounding deep and rich in the slow theme in the finale. It is in many ways an odd, lop-sided work – the frenzy of the two huge climaxes in the finale, the blast of brass, the triumphant sweep of the ending isn’t quite justified by what we’ve heard in the first three movements. However the performance swept away the doubts and I just accepted it for what it was – a great old friend from whom I have received much comfort and solace. Mr Rizzi’s conducting seemed to me to set excellent tempi for the first, third and fourth movements, but I thought the scherzo was too fast – it didn’t quite have the clod-hopping tendencies it should have, and just sounded busy. On the other hand, the gradation of climaxes in the finale, so that the first announcement of triumphal brass leaves sufficient extra volume for the second to be as powerful as it needs to be, was extremely well-handled. by Mr Rizzi and the orchestra A gratifyingly full (and this was the last of 3 performances) hall was very happy with the performance, as was I……..

STRAVINSKY ‘A Soldiers Tale’ Suite; BRAHMS Clarinet Sonata in E flat Op.120 No.2; MOZART Violin Sonata in G K301; BARTÓK Contrasts.  Ensemble 360 (Benjamin Nabarro, violin, plus Tim Horton, piano and clarinettist Matthew Hunt

This was an interesting and eclectic programme – unfortunately, the Ensemble 360 cellist who had originally been part of the mix, allowing the more substantial Brahms and Mozart Clarinet/Piano Trios to be performed, couldn’t make the performance, and so these were replaced by the pieces above, and the Bartok replaced a piece by Ades. This was a pity….although it was played very well, the Mozart Violin Sonata is a much less substantial piece than the Piano Trio it replaced. However, in an 18^th century, young Mozart, elegant, kind of way, it was very clearly and stylish played. I was particularly taken by Tim Horton’s piano playing which in its precision and crispness seemed exactly right for this piece. I loved the Stravinsky as well – the 3-instrument arrangement seemed a very good way in to the work, and indeed I enjoyed this set of excerpts much more than I’ve done hearing the real thing. The filling in of the story was also very well-narrated by Matthew Hunt

The Brahms I found a bit disappointing – I’ve really enjoyed over the last year exploring on disc some of the late works by Brahms I hadn’t really heard before – late piano music, clarinet works, viola sonatas, posthumous organ works. The Clarinet Sonata performance seemed to suffer a bit from a lack of melancholy/slowness/shading/ atmosphere; it all sounded a bit too precise and un-reflective, and definitely didn’t feel like an old man thinking about his life in a very soulful way (compared to say the classic recording of Gervase de Peyer and Daniel Barenboim).

I enjoyed the Bartok up to a point, but it didn’t really speak to me

Matthew’s encore was a hilarious late 19^th century piece – I didn’t catch the name of the composer – where the clarinet player stage by stage dismantles his instrument,  getting higher and squeakier in the process……..