Debussy Cello Sonata, Prokofiev Cello Sonata. Piazzola Le Grand Tango: Claudia Jablonski cello and Rustam Khanmurzin piano
Claudia Jablonski is a British-Swedish cellist and conductor from London. She was a scholarship holder at the Royal Academy of Music and has performed in various venues around Europe, though this was her first appearance at St Martin-in-the-Fields. Rustam Khanmurzin is a former Junior Fellow at Royal College of Music and he has appeared in a number of festivals with solo, chamber and concerto programmes all across Eurasia. He’s also made recordings.
The biggest work in this hour-long recital was the Prokofiev, not a work I know. I was reading a book about his first wife, who led a remarkable life – before meeting him she lived in Switzerland, Spain, the Crimea and USA, they finally married and she moved with him to Paris in the late 20’s, and then on to Moscow in the early 1930’s. They were divorced in the early 1940’s, she spent 8 years or so in a gulag, his children were estranged from him, and altogether Prokofiev comes across in the book as a self-absorbed, unsympathetic and insensitive individual. Somehow this comes across to me in this music – this was written just after the Union of Soviet Composers denunciation of him in 1948, his health was not good, and his first wife was just into her first year of the camps, yet the music moves blithely along in good humour, as though nothing had really happened. I found it difficult to like it and unmemorable. The Debussy cello sonata I found much more interesting – alert, alive, quirky. I’d like to hear it again. The Piazolla I think I have heard in other versions for different instruments – it’s always fun to listen to, with more changes of mood and colour than you might think beforehand
The musicians were very fine – everything as it should be.
Yi-Chen Lin, Conductor; Julia Burbach, Director; Herbert Murauer, Set Designer; Sussie Juhlin-Wallén, Costume Designer; Malcolm Rippeth, Lighting Designer. Deepa Johnny, Angelina; Simon Bailey, Don Magnifico; David Ireland, Alidoro; Grace Durham, Tisbe; Aaron Godfrey-Mayes, Don Ramiro; Charles Rice, Dandini; Isabelle Peters, Clorinda
It’s over 50 years since I last saw Cenerentola, and then it was also at the Coliseum but with a very different ENO – still a full company, training young singers, building up stars, running a 9 or 10 month season with operas night after night 6 days a week. The company approach is long gone everywhere in the UK and it is remarkable that the ENO still has the resources, in its emaciated state, to put on such a good-looking show with chorus, dancers and stylish sets. But……
When i think about this work in comparison to The Barber of Seville, you can’t help feeling that the latter has the right farcical dimensions in the original play that suits Rossini’s music perfectly. The Barber fizzes along from scene to scene – it is an absolute masterpiece of its kind. Cenerentola is not a farce and the work, by comparison to the Barber, seems rather laboured at times. There are no inherent laughs to be had in the plot itself, other than the behaviour of the Ugly Sisters, and so it is very much up to the director – and the translator – to do what they can with the work to keep the audience engaged. The director threw everything she could at it to keep it lively – the excellent -looking set, basically on two levels of a house – see first photo below – was 21st century contemporary in feel (as were the costumes) and had revolving outer stages on the ground floor at either side which could conjure up a lounge, a library, a kitchen, a living room, while in the centre there was a lift to the upper level and several other doors; there were doors too on the upper level. So plenty of room for movement and surprises…….Just in case we were getting bored with the basic stage concept, the last scene featured a long staircase down which Cinderella walked. Alidoro was in charge of a group of mice/children running around, in his fairy god-mother role, though what exactly they were up to was unclear. There were dancers at various points – again, with unclear intent, The ballroom scene at Ramiro’s palace featured a chorus dressed in 18th century and other eras’ costumes, a fancy -dress ball I suppose, themed in red and black, and looking uncommonly fine, but again to what point? – the sisters and Cinderella were just dressed in very fetching/bizarre ball gowns. There was a chorus of be-suited reporters in the final scene, flashing their cameras, while throughout there seemed to be a Mrs Alidoro, again to no great effect. The translator produced a script in contemporary English which wasn’t altogether cringe-worthy and did get some laughs. Nevertheless, despite all the manic activity, the performance felt slow moving at times, and the production a little too desperate to engage. I think this is a problem with the work, not the production – the second half in particular drags. I’ve never seen other productions than the ENO one 50 years ago, which I have completely forgotten, so I have no real sense of whether other directors have found more laughs and wit in the work,
The main reason for rating this an enjoyable evening was Rossini’s music, the orchestral playing and the quality of the singing and acting, the believability of the characters on stage. This was a first rate cast. Deepa Johnny, a new name to me, was very good indeed as Angelina/Cinderella. She has a wonderfully creamy contralto voice, combined with some really excellent command of coloratura singing, very good diction and an effective stage presence – her plea for clemency towards the sisters and Don Magnifico was very moving. Simon Bailey, a stalwart of German opera houses for many years and now performing some of the heavy bass-baritone Wagner roles in places like Frankfurt and Cologne, was an excellent Don Magnifico, not a traditional portly comic figure but angst-ridden, a drunk, and very tetchy. His voice easily managed the cavernous Coliseum (some of the other voices were slightly small for the space and it was unfortunate that the director didn’t let them come further downstage in their movements). Charles Rice as Dandini was another experienced artist and gave a confident performance, with an unstrained and easily flowing voice, managing the coloratura well. Aaron Godfrey-Mayes is another name entirely new to me, at the beginning of an international career and he was excellent as Ramiro, with a command of coloratura which sounded to me the equal of the American tenor I had heard singing the Barber on a Met screening earlier in the year – he seemed to move very easily on stage. All the principals were well-directed and their interplay seemed natural and clear. The two sisters and Alidoro were very good too, the former not hamming it up too much. The orchestral playing, though hard driven, was enjoyable and had plenty of excellent woodwind playing, and, from where I was sitting, was never over-dominant. And Rossini’s music is just great fun to listen to.
But at the end of the day, it seemed odd that I didn’t laugh once during the performance, and nor really did the audience, apart from at a few bits of the translation. Odd – and perhaps, as I say, it is the work itself, though various splenetic media critics seemed to blame the director – I thought that was unfair
Kahchun Wong conductor, Anna Lapwood organ, Sopranos and altos of the Hallé Choir, Matthew Hamilton, choral director: Max Richter, Cosmology (Hallé co-commission / Manchester premiere); Olivia Belli, Limina Luminis; Elgar, Enigma Variations
This was another packed out Halle concert, though this time in their Rush Hour series -1 hour or so at 6pm, similar to the LSOs Six o’clock Fix, from whom they have obviously unashamedly nicked the concept. I was wondering what Kahchun Wong’s Enigma Variations would be like. He said before the concert that one of his most loved recordings when he was a high school student was the Halle’s recording of this work with Mark Elder. To what extent would he replicate the Elder approach. The audience was quite diverse age-wise and, in response to a question from Mr Wong, it was clear quite a few people had not heard the work. Clearly though for some people the reason for going to the concert was the presence of Anna Lapwood in the first two works – she is by all accounts a major Tik Tok and Instagram star and a very considerable ambassador, in the UK anyway, for classical music. She bounced on and off stage to very enthusiastic cheers.
First up though we had Max Richter’s Cosmology. People are very sniffy about Max Richter – ‘film music’, ‘mindfulness/well being sort of music with no substance’: ‘BBC Nightwaves sort of music’ – you can imagine the comments. I am not that fussed by how it sounds – it comes from the minimalist tradition, the music is very easy on the ear, it builds to enormous climaxes. Although it is seemingly all at the same speed, its 4 movements outlining various aspects of cosmology don’t outstay their welcome. It is glutinous in texture and, oddly, it is quite difficult to hear the organ which rumbles away in the background. Ms Lapwood was sitting in the orchestra, with a keyboard wired to the main and imposing Bridgewater Hall organ. The orchestral contribution is designed to be dark, monochrome and soft-edged, and the brightness in sound is provided by the upper voices of the Halle Chorus who sing wordlessly in several of the movement. All in all I quite enjoyed yhe experience though the lack of challenge would be wearing on repeated listening. Next was a short organ only piece called Limina Luminis by Olivia Belli, about an astronaut blasting off into space and seeing the earth for the first time from a new perspective. This was., as Anna Lapwood herself admitted, very similar in sound and texture to the Richter piece, but, again, it was easy on the ear and offered an opportunity to hear Ms Lapwood play and put the BH organ through its paces – the moment when the astronaut sees the earth from space, flagged up to us by Ms Lapwood beforehand is lovely…..
And so to the Elgar…. As I have mentioned in this blog I heard Elder and the Halle play this twice in the last 4 years – the second time being only 17 months ago. It was a relief to hear the flashing colours and the frequent changes of speed and mood of the Elgar after the slow sameness of Richter and Olivia Belli. The Halle sounded just as impressive in Elgar for Kahchun Wong as they had for Mark Elder. And in at least one aspect- the last 4 or 5 minutes of the work- Wong moved the music along more effectively than Elder and got more energy into the closing bars. There were some beautiful violas and cellos solos and sectional work, a whispered start to Nimrod and a noble ending to the same section, the horns being given their head but without their sounding vulgar. Perhaps Wong in general set slightly quicker tempi than Elder, but the performance always sounded spacious, never rushed, and, as with the Rachmaninov last Thursday. Wong and the orchestra brought out colours and textures in the orchestration you don’t always here. This was a very, very good performance.
I can’t wait to hear Kahchun Wong conducting the Elgar symphonies in a future season……
Director, Stefan Herheim; Set designer, Philipp Fürhofer; Costume designer, Gesine Völlm; Lighting designer, Anders Poll; Choreographer, André de Jong. Conductor, Speranza Scappucci; Hélène, Joyce El-Khoury; Henri, Vladymyr Dytiuk ; Jean Procida, Ildebrando D’Arcangelo; Guy de Montfort, Quinn Kelsey; Robert, Vartan Gabrielian; Thibault, Neal Cooper; Le Sire de Béthune, Blaise Malaba; Le Comte de Vaudemont, Thomas D Hopkinson; Ninetta, Jingwen Cai; Daniéli, Emmanuel Fonoti-Fuimaono; Mainfroid, Giorgi Guliashvili
I decided to continue my exploration of Verdi’s operas by going to the ROHCG revival of the 2013 Stefan Herheim production of The Sicilian Vespers, sung in its original French version. I had never heard or seen the whole opera before but I have known the overture from my teenage years. I had assumed before reading up about the work that it was an early opera, maybe around the time of Macbeth. In fact it post-dates Trovatore, Rigoletto and Traviata, and was Verdi’s second, and more substantial, attempt to break into the world of French opera – a 4 hour epic, with five acts and a long ballet section, designed for the Paris audience. This production cuts the ballet music reducing the evening to about 4 hours with two 20 minute intervals. It still felt a rather long evening. This was due to three reasons, one partly inherent in the work, one partly about this production, and then some of the musical elements of the performance.
The work lacks the intensity, the good tunes, and the drive of the operas that preceded it. At times it seemed to be a progression of meditative slow arias as the characters muse on their fates. The third act has probably the most dramatic intensity, with Henri being told his father is Guy de Monfort, and the act ends with a big crowd scene, Henri seemingly betraying his Sicilian rebel friends, and the curtain falls on the shooting of a line of Sicilian conspirators. The 4th act in the prison drags a little, and the ending of the work – with everything going up in flames – seems peculiarly abrupt. Verdi took the big tunes for the overture and there is strikingly little beyond them that’s memorable.
The work is about a 13th century French-ruled Sicily (think Norman barons), and Sicilians rebelling against the dominant French. Occupation, a big country overwhelming a little one, military rule, treatment of civilians in war – these are issues being discussed and described every day at the moment in the media, and, even in 2013 were pretty hot topics. There are so many of these contemporary themes which could have been utilised to make a powerful and riveting production. I could think of other ways of directing it – Sicily at this time was famously multi-cultural, with Norman barons adopting elements of Muslim culture. You could envisage a situation where dogmatic political extremist rebels move against a tolerant multi-cultural society. Even build it around flags, and Verdi’s patriotism, which obviously is at the core of the whole work…..there are so many ways you could envisage a great production of this opera. Herheim in his wisdom chooses none of them. Instead, he sets the work at the time it was written (and OK, there was a year of revolutions in 1848) and envisages it (in ways never entirely clear) as a clash between Italians and French cultures at the time. The production sets the work in an opera house, and we see from time to time an audience in evening dress watching what’s going on from the stalls. There is an upper area which looks like a proscenium arch, and a (usually) two-sided set, sometimes with a mirrored wall, that are presumably meant to be some opulent public areas of the opera house. A team of ballerinas moves in and out of view at times, dancing impressively, but also intended to be slightly silly (they giggle a lot at times), presumably meant to be a comment on the French Grand Opera of the time. One of the many problems this approach causes is that French and Sicilians become rather undifferentiated. It does mean that there are some beautiful stage pictures – Degas-like, perhaps, at times. But on the whole, it is , frankly, a mess, which confuses rather than clarifies what’s going on on stage.
Musically and dramatically there were ups and downs. My general impression was that it looked as though some more rehearsals wouldn’t have come amiss. The most sustained ‘up’ was Quinn Kelsey’s performance as De Monfort. He has a powerful voice, resonating round the theatre, and one which has a warm tone. He gave us some beautiful singing and got the biggest cheers of the evening. Valentyn Dytiuk as Henri clearly has the vocal power needed, and some of the high notes – both loud and soft – were exceptionally well-done. Like Kelsey, he had a good sense of line and poetry in his voice. But his acting took one back 50 years to the days when Italian opera stars just had to stand and deliver and no real acting was required – his acting, in short, was abominable (apart from Kelsey, in fact none of the principals were particularly good in this area). He looked as though he needed a personal acting coach for a 2 day study session of the role. Ildebrando D’Arcangelo as Procida sounded rather muddy. Joyce El-Khoury, a late stand-in for the scheduled singer, was very good – some lovely high soft notes, a well-handled sense of legato, a good lower register – but not all her notes were precise enough. However on the whole she had a good stage presence. In general scenes were far too static, singers standing and delivering, and it looked as though the revival director needed more time to work with the singers to make these scenes come alive than they were given.. Speranza Scapuccio as conductor somehow didn’t give the music enough lift – it plodded along. Choral singing was ragged on occasion.
I don’t think I’ll be giving this production a return visit. It would be good to see this work in a more enlightening and engaging production
This was the Halle’s opening concert of the 25/26 season. The Halle, much more obviously than the BBC Phil in Manchester, has to balance innovation in concerts against the need to balance the books, and this was unashamedly a popular concert – and was responded to very warmly by a packed audience. I perhaps wouldn’t have bothered too much about missing this in other contexts, but I was interested to see what Kahchun Wong made of the Rachmaninov, which seemed to fit his interpretative gifts well.
There was a pre concert session with David Butcher CEO of the Halle interviewing Kahchun Wong. Mr Wong again impressed by his modesty and his gentle collaborative approach, as well as his enthusiasm for the orchestra’s sound, which he described as Germanic but flexible. He said in answer to a question that he hoped to do more Elgar but had kept away from it in his first year, out of respect for Mark Elder. He was similarly keen on doing some concert opera performances in the future – there was then an oddball question about whether he’ll be conducting Gilbert and Sullivan. I am not sure Mr Wong understood the question…..
The Shostakovich Festive Prelude (25th September is Shostakovich’s birthday) was a resounding example of the sound he gets from the orchestra – Kahchun Wong has the knack of choosing tempi that are just right, that allow clear articulation of fast passages. The violins were split to promote maximum clarity and he can somehow bring out some of the underlying accompaniment to the main theme to be clearly heard without over-balancing the overall performance
Rachel Helleur-Simcock has just been appointed as lead cello of the Halle (she’s coming from the Betlin Philharmonic after 16 years there) and 3 weeks before the concert, when the advertised soloist fell ill, she offered to take over. The Elgar concerto isn’t one I’ve heard live in a concert for a long time. This struck me as a quiet and poetic reading with a particularly moderately paced first movement. The third movement was full of poignant regret. Some of the performances I’ve heard have emphasised more the emotion. the loss, even the anger contained in this work and Ms. Helleur-Simcock consistently understated these dimensions – but it’s a perfectly valid way of playing it. I was struck by both the work’s concision and its waywardness – its constantly curving off in unexpected directions. It is a remarkable piece – the ‘cellist did that wonderful growl at the end superbly, where Elgar seemingly says, in his bluff mode, ‘enough of this introspection – I am off to the races’
Rachmaninov 2 is not, as I’ve said above, a particular favourite of mine – I’m not that sweet- toothed…… But this to my mind was as good a performance as I am ever likely to hear in the ultra-sweet-toothed mode (I would have loved to hear Gergiev and the LSO ‘perform it). Mr Wong chose the uncut version of the work to perform, though with no repeats in any movement. He gave an interesting ‘programme’ for the work in the talk beforehand, likening the Symphony to a depiction of the seasons – first movement, Autumn (and you can hear the whirl of dead leaves on occasion), the second, Winter (with perhaps a sleigh ride starting off the movement). Then a very Russian Spring with some cold spells, and fourthly a Summer finale. The Halle sounded, despite a few wobbles, gorgeous – a huge lush string sound, the split violins contributing to that sense of spaciousness, the woodwind deftly weaving around each other, and a strong horn and brass section. It was a homogenous sound, firmly grounded, without being smoothed out too much. Mr Wong lent into the music, and perhaps was a bit too free with some very large rallentandos, particularly at the end. But the strong emotion was tethered by the way in which the subordinate instruments and harmonies, the filigree of woodwind sounds, were brought out by Mr Wong, underpinning the big tunes, and also by the energy and spring he conveyed to the orchestra. A particular shout to the clarinet, horn and cor anglais principals. Maybe it was a bit too pulled-around, a bit too over-the-top, but then the work is so over-the-top anyway, it’s hard to be too bothered by this.
I am hearing Mr Wong perform the Enigma Variations with the Halle next week. That should be fascinating……..
Elisabeth Leonskaja, piano: Programme – Mozart, Fantasia in C minor K475; Shostakovich, Piano Sonata No. 2 in B minor Op. 61; Schubert, 3 Klavierstücke D946; Fantasy in C D760 ‘Wanderer’
After my three Proms in the Arena, my final Prom of the 25/26 season was going to be Bruckner 9 with the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra, and Franz Welser-Möst as conductor (it was also on my birthday!). Sadly Covid got in the way – I tested positive for Covid on the morning of the concert and spent my birthday in a hotel room with an Indian take-away listening to the VPO on my lap top. A pity…. (it was an interesting performance – jagged and faster than some, but good at revealing the darkness of the music, and, of course, gloriously played)
By the following Friday week I was full recovered and looking forward to this concert at the Wigmore Hall. I have never heard Leonskaja before live – and indeed had never heard of her at all until a few years ago when I started reading very enthusiastic reviews, particularly of her Schubert performances. She is nearly 80, of Polish Jewish parentage, and she was born in Georgia in the USSR. She studied at the Moscow Conservatoire, collaborating with Sviatoslav Richter on several projects and then emigrated to the West in 1978, living in Austria ever since. She has become a great favourite of the Wigmore Hall audiences, who were there in force to greet her this evening (it was a totally sold-out hall).
The programming theme was around fantasy/fantasia – that’s obviously the name of two of the big pieces in the programme, and the Shostakovich has something akin to a fantasy in the theme and variations of the third movement. I understand by the word something that is less structured, more fanciful and perhaps more episodic than a ‘theme and variations’, often using changes of key, and a recapitulation of the main theme at the end.
The revelation of the performance for me was the Wanderer Fantasy. I am, as I have said before in this blog, not a pianist and my ability to differentiate pianists’ playing is limited. But this was very clear. Leonskaja was Russian-trained as a pianist and it is startling to hear, in Schubert in particular, how different she sounds from players like Brendel and Lewis. This is a big piano sound, in the grand Russian tradition, with plenty of use of the pedals, strong bass notes and clear crisp articulation of themes. It’s definitely not a light sound – it’s heavy and serious, and Leonskaja gave the quasi-fugue theme towards the end a major pounding. What’s interesting about Leonskaja is how she combines this forceful power with the ability to ‘float’ melodies, in the slow movement of ‘the Wanderer’ for instance, to phrase beautifully and to offer a sense of inwardness in the quieter passages that is very compelling. She also made the logic of the piece’s structure very clear – I have always got a bit lost listening to this work, and Leonstaja’s is the first performance I have heard live which made this fantasy sound seamless, with one section following on somehow inevitably from another. This was a wonderful performance, and I loved too the Schubert smaller pieces – -the way she made them sound at times like something Schubert would have danced to with his friends. This mixture in her playing of grandeur and poetry is very appropriate and moving for Schubert’s music.
The Mozart is a difficult piece to listen to – quirky, going in different directions, sounding as though at times it is going to loosen up, and then returning to dark introversion. I have heard it before without warming to it and I didn’t feel Leonskaja encouraged any further enthusiasm on my part for the piece.
It’s a pity in a sense that Leonskaja played the Shostakovich 2nd piano sonata, when Yevgeny Kissin had played it in London less than 3 months earlier I really liked this piece when Kissin played it (and I was hearing it for the first time) and this performance was also very good. I thought the technical wizardry of Kissin in the first movement and aspects of the third were – from my indistinct memory – superior, but Leonskaja’s sense of inwardness in the last two movements was very moving. There were also 2 encores – one was a waltz by Tchaikovsky from Six morceaux Op. 51; the other I didn’t catch. Both were rapturously received as was ‘The Wanderer’
Altogether an excellent concert – I am glad I have finally heard this pianist
Gipps Death on the Pale Horse; Grieg Piano Concerto in A minor; Bliss The Beatitudes. Elizabeth Watts soprano, Laurence Kilsby tenor, Lukas Sternath piano, BBC Singers, BBC Symphony Chorus, BBC Symphony Orchestra, Sakari Oramo conductor
The programming intent with this concert was fairly obvious. Put down an evergreen favourite to draw the crowds with an up and coming young pianist, add a brief work by a neglected British female composer (but short so as not to frighten the horses) and hope that people will cope with the Bliss, or be interested to come along. For me, I saw it as an obligation to at least give it a try – and, I said to myself, it surely couldn’t be a more dismal experience than Delius’ Mass of Life (see blog from a few weeks back). And maybe it would be a sensational neglected masterpiece……..
Whenever I hear the BBC Symphony play, I am always struck by how good they sound nowadays – and all credit to Sakari Oramo for encouraging and guiding the players to be the best they can be. In fact this Sunday 7/9 I’ve heard two great orchestral trainers – Oramo and Petrenko – who have spent time with UK ‘provincial’ orchestras (RLPO and CBSO), honing their skills. The BBC Symphony played superbly in this concert.
First up was Ruth Gipps, whose Death on the Pale Horse (a drawing by William Blake) sounded much the same as other short works I have heard by her – pleasing on the ear, vaguely ‘English’ sounding, clearly very competently orchestrated and not very memorable. The young player (24) of the Grieg concerto, Lukas Sternath, is Austrian, a BBC New Generation artist, being taught currently by Igor Levit and Paul Lewis (a pretty fine bunch of teachers) and clearly an up-and-coming star pianist. I liked his performance of the Grieg very much – it was crisp and clear (perhaps a bit like Paul Lewis’ playing) and he chose tempi that didn’t focus so much on display as on articulation and poetry. There was also the heft to give the piano an almighty thumping in the closing bars. He played some of the quieter moments particularly well – the magical first appearance of the slow movement’s main theme, and the ‘big tune’ in the finale, for instance. Oramo and the orchestra never overwhelmed Sternath in what was a subtle performance.
And so, teeth grated, on to the Bliss. I saw Arthur Bliss conduct at least once at the Proms, in 1969, when he was in his late 70’s, with a rather epic programme that involved lots of British classics and which also featured Malcolm Arnold as a conductor. Bliss conducted his piano concerto for 3 hands. I have zero memory of the concerto and have never really sat down to listen to any of his other scores – the Colour Symphony, and the ballets – but I have a vague recollection of someone who seemed a nice old buffer, much more likeable on the podium than the austere almost regal Sir Adrian Boult. As an example of that amiability, and contrary to what I am sure I read somewhere, Bliss was (according to the programme notes) not upset particularly by the treatment of ‘The Beatitudes when it was premiered in 1962 (it was commissioned alongside Britten’s War Requiem for the reconsecration of Coventry Cathedral, but shunted off to a theatre for the first performance giving pride of place to the Britten in the Cathedral) – he knew Britten was the better composer and accepted the (apparently not very effective) first performance with equanimity. The work has been given one outing at the Proms before (1966) and then seemingly totally ignored (I had never heard of the piece before this year) by everyone.
So…….is it a neglected masterpiece? Not really – but much more enjoyable than the Mass of Life! I think I would describe it as workmanlike, with some beautiful moments. There are a couple of general problems: one is (and he must surely have realised that they would be compared) that Bliss sets some of the same George Herbert texts as Vaughan Williams does in the 5 Mystical Songs, which are simply much more memorable pieces of music. The other concerns structure – the piece contrasts statements in turn of the 9 Beatitudes from Matthew’s Gospel with various mainly 17th century poems/prose and a few Biblical texts. However, the poems/texts chosen don’t always seem to relate to the Beatitude in question – e.g. it’s not clear what ‘Blessed are the meek’ has to do with Herbert’s poem, The Call. But there are some lovely moments – all the statements of the Beatitudes are very moving, with a fine repeated melody beautifully introduced by the soprano. Despite the Vaughan William’s comparison, The Call is a memorable setting, more complex than RVW’s (but Herbert after all is a Metaphysical poet) but touching. A lot of the choral writing is in the very best English Cathedral/Choral tradition, and the Dylan Thomas setting ‘And Death Shall Have No Dominion’ stands well beside say Elgar’s choral devils in ‘Gerontius’. The BBC Chorus and Singers, and the orchestra, gave the work the best possible rendition. I am glad I went to hear it.
Respighi, Pines of Rome; Milhaud, Le boeuf sur le toit (version for violin and orchestra); Vaughan Williams Symphony No. 2 (A London Symphony). Arabella Steinbacher violin, Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, Vasily Petrenko conductor
Petrenko and the RPO represent an A1 team, and it was surprising to be hearing them on a Sunday morning rather than an evening slot. Maybe the RPO is deemed to have already had its evening slot in one of the earlier cross-over Proms……. Again, I wonder what the programmers were aiming for in putting this together. At first, I found no obvious connection between these three works, other than that they were all written in the first couple of decades of the 20th century. At £7 a go, I was disinclined to buy a programme to discover if clues are given there but I guess the other main connection may be that all three works are aiming to describe in sound aspects of cities, though that is a bit tentative with the Milhaud piece, and only superficially true of the Vaughan Williams work.
Anyway, all these pieces of music have their individual fascination and appeal and I was looking forward to this concert, with this group of musicians.
I don’t think I’ve heard the Pines of Rome live before. Critics are always in my experience a bit sniffy about the three Roman tone poems Respighi wrote. And yes, it’s true that they don’t transcend their subject and become something more universal in the way Vaughan Williams London Symphony does (and if this one does it veers rather darkly, given its geographical and historical origins, towards a celebration of fascism in the final March). But the Respighi work is gloriously orchestrated and huge fun to listen to. It’s also a perfect work for the Albert Hall, and Petrenko made the most of it, with at least 6 extra trumpets and trombones coming on stage for the final march, plus the RAH organ belting away. The orchestra was snappy and alert in the first movement, and there was subtle colouring in the gardens- plus a very chirpy sounding nightingale. It’s not a masterpiece but great to listen to. The German children near me were entranced by it all
The Milhaud piece again is something I’ve never heard live before (incidentally there is still a very pricey restaurant of that name in Paris). I like it a lot but have only heard it in its orchestra-only version. However, Milhaud made various arrangements of the piece, including one for violin and orchestra. For me, in the RAH context, it seemed not to be a terribly good idea – the violinist was often not heard over the orchestra, while at other moments the violin obscured the bonkers orchestration and some of the quirky notes. This could have been an issue of where I was standing or the violinist’s approach. But I would have preferred to hear the orchestra play this by itself. The added cadenza for the violinist didn’t do much for me either.
The Vaughan Williams piece received a very fine performance, though it was a pity the revised shorter version was used rather than the original which makes more sense of the finale. Courtesy of Wikipedia, this is a summary of what was excised from the score by the time the usually played version was completed in 1933 compared to the original. It shows the number of bars in each movement and the total for the whole symphony:
Version
Mvt I
Mvt II
Mvt III
Mvt IV
Epilogue
Total
1914
408
202
386
227
109
1322
1920
407
162
398
173
85
1225
1933
407
150
398
162
60
1177
The symphony seems to contrast the bustle and vulgarity of ‘external’ life with an inner melancholy and need for peace and reflection. The times of stillness and inner reflection draw on not just English folk song idiom, but also Tudor church music. It’s also of course an immeditaly-pre-WW1 piece, and has all the unease of that era. Petrenko and the RPO’s performance began splendidly with a very hushed prologue, immediately drawing us into that reflective world which is represented again in the 5th Symphony. The bustle after the Big Ben sounds was brisk but tight – some excellent percussion playing. The meditative moments in the middle of the movement, with solo violins and cello, was magically done. The slow movement seemed slower than some readings – gorgeous cor anglais and horn playing – again emphasising its reflective nature, and the elements that might disturb it seemingly sounding more threatening as a result. The scherzo was fast and breezy – the flickering woodwind sounds very effective. The playing of the final movement emphasised the cry of despair, or the lament, however you hear it, and the threatening march – it was unclear, from the version we heard, what the true resolution might be – the stillness and quiet was regained, but would it last?
Schreker Chamber Symphony; Stravinsky The Firebird – suite; and songs/arias from: Bernstein West Side Story, Gershwin Porgy and Bess, Korngold Die tote Stadt, Stravinsky The Rake’s Progress, Weill Lost in the Stars. Golda Schultz soprano, Chamber Orchestra of Europe, Robin Ticciati conductor
The next three Proms I’m going to are all ones where I’m standing in the Arena. As I have said before in this blog, this is the best place to hear the fully rounded sound of an orchestra and I have established a place where it’s fairly easy to haul myself up and down minimising the encumbrance of my arthritic legs. It’s a joy to be part of the Arena atmosphere, which I have loved since I was 16.
This was a varied and very enjoyable Prom, which I appreciated for two principal reasons – an absolutely fabulous rendition of ‘Marietta’s Lied’ from Korngold’s Die Tote Stadt, sung by Golda Schulz, and rather surprisingly – see below – the 1945 version of the Firebird suite.
The programming here was very interesting, though goodness knows how the Firebird Suite fits into a collection of music that encompasses the links between music of the Weimar Republic and American musicals. I guess the Firebird and the Schreker book-end the concert to show how new musical experiences were being developed in the early 20th century, but, again, the Rake’s Progress aria seems an oddity in this company.
The Schreker piece immediately established the classiness of the orchestra. The Chamber Orchestra of Europe has a limited number of strings – eg 5 cellos, 4 double basses – but they play for their lives, utterly committed, while the woodwind and brass are refined, sensitive and produced some beautiful sounds in this work and the Firebird. I bought the Schreker piece on MP3 a year or so and have listened to it a couple of times – it didn’t make a great impression on me then, and I can’t say I was overwhelmed by the work in this performance, beautifully as it was played. The shimmering opening is likened by the RAH programme booklet to a kind of aural version of Klimt’s paintings, and that does make sense. The work is sensuous and impressionistic – it is also fascinating to listen to the complex harmonies and the play of different orchestral colourings. But I did lose concentration a number of times. The four movement structure is clear but I couldn’t really establish a clear narrative for myself while listening to the work. I must listen to it again (I am sure with a lot of these works that I don’t appreciate, had I listened to them and got to know them as a teenager, I would hear them as old friends and love them)
Golda Schulz, who I heard in Cosi Fan Tutte last year at ROHCG, was a great soloist, showing her range of accomplishment in Gershwin, Bernstein, Weill, Stravinsky and Korngold. To my ears, she was excellent in the musicals’ excerpts – she had the diction and the pizazz to deal with them, and she also excelled in the more operatic pieces – the Stravinsky and the Korngold. There was all the vocal flexibility needed in the Stravinsky, plus a splendid top note. The Korngold was beyond praise – beautifully floated high notes, a lovely rich and warm tone. When I heard this opera for the first time in 2023, I couldn’t stop playing this aria on my laptop……..
The Firebird suite has assumed in my mind the status of a instant turn off. I am not quite sure why – maybe because it is so often featured in concert programming playing it safe. If I see it on a concert listing, automatically I usually decide not to go to that concert (I have much the same reaction to the Daphnis and Chloe Suite…….). On this occasion because of the other elements in the programme I went along and thoroughly enjoyed the piece. Much of this was due to the orchestra and Ticciati. The 1945 suite is the pared back version, and the orchestra played the earlier part of the piece exquisitely. Maybe because of the orchestra, maybe because of the pared down orchestration, many different strand of the music were highlighted in ways I haven’t normally heard so clearly, and there was some most beautiful woodwind playing from, particularly, the oboe and the flute. At the same time, the Infernal Dance had all the energy and bite you could want, and Ticciati’s smallish orchestra built up to a tremendous climax at the end. There was much cheering by the (yet another) packed audience and an encore of an orchestration of Satie’s Gymnopedie no 3. Ticciati impresses me whenever I hear him conduct –Pelleas and this at the Proms, and Parsifal and Rusalka at Glyndebourne. His meticulous signalling and careful control was an important element in the evening’s success
I recently spent several days visiting the Mendelssohn on Mull Festival, which is an annual residency where the Artistic Directors – this year the Maxwell Quartet – ‘invite eight young artists on the brink of a professional career for an immersive week of rehearsals and performances on the island of Mull’, to quote the publicity blurb. Previous Artistic Directors have included the Chillingrian and Doric Quartets. I thought I hadn’t come across the Maxwell Quartet before – to quote the Festival publicity material they were “1st Prize-winner and Audience Prize-winner at the 9th Trondheim International Chamber Music Competition in 2017, with performances hailed as “superb storytelling by four great communicators” by the Strad Magazine . The quartet performs regularly across the UK and abroad, at venues including London’s Wigmore Hall, Purcell Room, Queen’s Hall Edinburgh, and Perth Concert Hall. The quartet has toured widely across Europe, with performances in France, Italy, Germany, the Netherlands, Belgium, Denmark, Norway, and Portugal…….” However – in fact I discovered this evening that I had a record of some Haydn quartets played by them, coupled with some Scottish folk fiddle music. Alex Ross, the New York Times music critic, went to this Festival in Mull last year, and subsequently gave it considerable publicity in an enthusiastic article, but it has been going in one form or another since 1988 (the date comes from Ross’ article).
The first of the concerts I was due to go unfortunately I couldn’t make….I arrived by train in Oban to find all ferries for the day to Mull cancelled due to strong winds (particularly problematic when berthing and southerly, apparently). A pity – the concert was of works by Haydn and Beethoven (the latter’s being Op 132, which I have never heard live – I’ve had to miss it, though booked to go, on two previous occasions!) I wandered rather aimlessly around Oban for the rest of the day, had a night in the Premier Inn on the harbour, and then set off to Mull at 1000 the next morning (see picture of a stormy Sunday in Mull below, and the Mull coastline).
The concerts take place in various community halls and churches around the island. Only the concert I missed had the Maxwell Quartet playing on its own, as it were. In all the other concerts, the Maxwell Quartet was working with one or more young musicians who joined members of the quartet to play this year’s repertory – pieces by Beethoven, Mozart, Haydn, Brahms, Shostakovich and Mendelssohn. The atmosphere of the concerts is very relaxed – there’s no ticketing, you just pay what you feel you want to give; the artists mill around outside with the audience afterwards, and you see them wandering around in the street
Craignure Village Hall, 1/9/25. Maxwell Quartet (with Finn Mannion): Mozart – String Quartet in E flat, K428; Schubert – String Quintet in C, D. 956
The first concert I went to was in Craignure, to hear the Mozart Quartet K428 and the Schubert String Quintet, in the beautiful wooden new hall there. These works were prefaced by an excellent performance of various Scottish fiddle tunes by young musicians – say 8-18 – from Mull who had been coached by tutors from Mull Music Makers, allied to the Festival, with the Quartet playing with them in the performance. There was also an arrangement of ‘Eleanor Rigby’. Mums and Dads were there, cheering their children on, and staying for the Mozart and the first movement of the Schubert afterwards. The audience was quite an eclectic one – in addition to Mums and Dads there were people clearly locally based, others from the mainland, and I heard just around me American and German voices as well, maybe 150 people or so in all.
The Maxwell Quartet played the Mozart by themselves and then brought in one of the students as the 2nd cellist for the Schubert. I was impressed straight away by the quartet’s sound in the Mozart. Immediate impressions were
A light flexible sound, balanced, and with a wonderfully sweet tone
The skill of the quartet in creating a uniform sound which enabled individual lines to be clearly heard, which didn’t allow one player to dominate, but gave a clear sense of much hard work by the Quartet listening to each other carefully
There was a great emphasis on rhythmic spring and punch in their performance
While still being part of the team, the first violin had an extraordinary ability to ‘sing’ his music and to support the rhythmic propulsion of the whole group.
The Mozart gave me a clear sense of how the Quartet in its normal configuration would play, and I realised how interesting it would then be to see how that configuration and the Quartet’s sound would be affected by the various students joining the group .
The careful balancing of parts in the Mozart K428 paid dividends in the slow movement, where the harmonies so important in Mozart were very clearly presented, and a beautifully dream-like feel established. I also very much enjoyed the third movement, played with great energy, but also with deftness and humour.
The Schubert of course is one of the great Everests of the chamber music repertoire, and one I first got to know when I was 13 or 14, listening to it on a transistor radio in London’s Finsbury Park. I marvelled then and I marvel now at the second theme of the first movement – haunting, poignant, full of regret for a world and life about to be given up. As I have grown older, I have appreciated the numbness, the gravity and the resignation, and the contrasting violent fury, of the slow movement, and the energetic joy, coupled with the sad sense of abandonment, in the third movement. I have never quite known what to make of the 4th movement…..The Maxwells were joined by a young Scottish cellist currently studying in Basel.
In summary, I thought this must probably be the best performance I have heard live of the Quintet, though I remember with affection an Ensemble 360 Lindsay Quartet performance in Sheffield with Peter Ceopper about 2010 or so. The Maxwells:
Gave the repeat of the first movement exposition – always important in my view
Throughout played with that sharp sense of rhythm I’ve noted above, particularly of course in the 3rd movement
At the same time, gave a darker and more violent reading than many others. I thought this was particularly the case in the finale, which sounded angry and bitter, sardonic in the way the sweet-toothed Vienese dance music was played. The final moments of the finale sounded very much like the Commendatore’s knocking on the door repeated notes you hear at the end of the 9th Symphony, a summons to death
Helped me to hear how the original theme of the slow movement turns into something less austere, more real, and more consoling in its repeat after the violent middle section.
The way the Maxwells and their young colleague played offered a real sense of acceptance, and reconciliation, with our inevitable mortality
Aros Hall, Tobermory, 2/9/25. Maxwell Quartet and young Scottish players. Brahms: String Quartet in C minor, Op. 51 No. 1.Shostakovich: String Quartet No. 3 in F major, Op. 73
The second concert I went to was in the Aros Hall in Tobermory, programme as above. This was the full concept of Mendelssohn in Mull on display – one member of the Maxwell Quartet and three young professionals. In the case of the Brahms the Maxwells leader was the first violin. The Aros Hall is well equipped and has a good lighting system but is an older building, the stage having a curious Jack and the Beanstalk surround frame as though from some long gone Tobermory Pantomime (see photo). The workshop and tutoring had clearly been very effective – the playing and sound was that of a well established quartet, all the players utterly confident in what they were doing.
The Brahms piece – not one I’ve ever heard before – made a less positive impression on me than the Shostakovich quartet. Perhaps, in this, the first quartet he allowed to be published, Brahms was trying too hard to be Beethoven. Interestingly I am just starting to read An Equal Music by Vikram Seth, about a player in a string quartet; in its opening pages the string quartet which the principal character is part of is struggling with precisely this Brahms quartet – “It sort of lacks tunes….Not melody exactly but melodicity. …Melodiousness said Helen” . It does indeed lack melodiousness. The first movement was perhaps the most enjoyable – with driving energy and that denseness of Brahms’ music from which rich harmonies emerge. Surprisingly after the first movement , Brahms’ normal fertility for memorable melodies seems to desert him. The slow movement is on the dull side, the third movement seems too long and not in balance with the other movements, and the last movement, fiery and serious. isn’t as memorable as the first. The dexterity and sweetness of the Maxwell leader was again in evidence
The Shostakovich quartet was a much more memorable experience, I felt. This time the leader of the four musicians was one of the young professionals and the Maxwell input came from the 2nd violin. I realised it was one of the Shostakovich quartets I have heard before and this helped maybe with my reception of it. It was written in the uneasy period between the end of WW2 and Shostakovich’s denunciation in 1948 as a formalist and insufficiently Soviet composer, and bears some resemblance, thematically and in mood, to the 9th symphony. It starts off like the Symphony in light hearted mood. The 2nd violin in an introduction likened it to the weather on Mull – plenty of sunshine but dark clouds often in evidence, and with sudden flurries of violent rain. The second movement begins darkly and turns into a subdued muted waltz. The third movements is violent, the beginning not unlike the scherzo of the 10th symphony. The fourth was one of those slow moving despairing pieces, a lament for the dead, which Shostakovich does so well. And, perhaps predictably, the last movement was ambiguous, light hearted but with veiled threats, and fading into silence. The Russian born young professional leader and the other performers gave a driven, exciting performance that just seemed to speak to me so much more directly than the sometimes academic-seeming Brahms piece.
Iona Village Hall, 3/9/25Maxwell Quartet and young Scottish players. Mendelssohn: String Quartet in E flat, Op. 12; Brahms: String Quartet in C minor, Op. 51 No. 1
The last performance I went to was at the Iona community hall, involving an hour and three quarters’ drive from Tobermory, and a ferry journey. The hall is new and beautiful – full of light high ceilings and large windows overlooking the coast and sea. As you can see in the photo, the musicians were placed in a corner of the building, with the sea behind them.
It was particularly appropriate to be listening to Mendelssohn so near to the island of Staffa, where Fingal’s Cave is. The hall was crowded, with the Iona and Bunessan primary schools there en masse. (I think they were having a session with the Quartet after the performance). Again, I heard Germans, American and ?Dutch voices around me. It’s always the case that I approach Mendelssohn with low expectations, and I am pleasantly surprised when those expectations are surpassed – which they were with this work. It’s from Mendelssohn’s early 20’s, is tuneful and direct, but not facile. In this performance, the Maxwell tutor was the cello player. The first movement was bright, melodious and elegant – it somehow to me expressed a joy in life which was lovely to hear. The second, as the cellist reminded us, sounds a bit like the fairies in Mendelssohn’s Midsummer Night’s Dream music . The third has a solemn rather beautiful hymn-like melody and the last movement is more complex – questing, and ending with a repetition of the opening movement’s first theme. Sometimes Mendelssohn can just sound rather easy on the ear, almost too easy at times, but this was life enhancing in its unaffected simplicity.
I was interested to see if a second hearing of the Brahms piece made any more impact on me. I am afraid it didn’t……though the performance in retrospect seemed tighter and more focused than the one the previous day
Altogether a very impressive and enjoyable set of concerts. I’ll be looking out for the Maxwells if they visit Manchester, Sheffield or London…….
John's musical journey 