(5 / 5)

The most wonderful concert occurred at St Martin’s in London. German baritone Benjamin Appl wowed with a fine evening of songs that will remain an unforgettable vision.

Starting with the UK premiere of David Lang’s ‘flower, forget me’, we had a ghostly atmosphere that was heavily inspired by the Schubert we would hear after. Its floral ambiance from all the poems by Wilhelm Müller that Schubert did not use for the latter cycle. It’s all very subtle and typical Lang. Both Appl and Lepper quite subdued for most of it, strange feelings of pain and disappointment predominate. Few notes are played by Lepper, what appears to be over thirty of Schubert songs in quotation form. Appl is soft and smooth here, his English showing very little of an accent. This new work should find it’s place with the now popular Lang party.

Straight into the Schubert with his Die schöne Müllerin, the bulk of the evening. These twenty songs prove the composers mastery over the lieder. The evocative sights are of nature, love and loss remain almost unbearable in their intensity. I was amazed at how brilliant Appl made things, he seems to eat and sleep these songs. I spent little time with the English translation, I simply wanted to watch him and his fine acting as well. It was his adorable little smile, his snarling, his teary turns that got to me. The song Pause, The Huntsman and the finale The Brook’s Lullaby remained as highlights, though numerous passages did also stand out.

This was the real deal in many respects, Appl seemingly taking the baton from singers like Dietrich Fischer Dieskau amongst others. Simon Lepper remains a staggering pianist, who impresses in everything he does. Even a moment lost between the sheets, he was able to find his footing, as Benjamin held a note patiently. The chilly air of the church would give Benjamin his own brief phase of coughing though nothing intruding upon his singing and he kept it well under wraps.

Consider me an absolute fan.

(4 / 5)

In what might be the most strange and wonderful concert programme  seen at Wigmore, Claron McFadden & Alexander Melnikov gave us an education in avant-garde vocalise. What a treasure of an evening, Claron in her solo moments shone, Alexander proving a stunning accompanist as well as piano soloist. 

John Cage’s Aria is a quirky few minutes of chattering, squeaking and sneezing. It is amazing for its liberating stance for the singer, even La Traviata gets a reference. A thread of bizarre acapella vocal work would be heard later as well. Prokofiev’s 5 Melodies have some lovely moments for both, though can fall into that mawkish aspect that a vocalise can sometime get trapped into. Though I found moments to be a joy, Claron plunging head first into everything she does. Luciano Berio sees another glorious vocal encounter in the vain of Cage and his gang. There is more scurrying here, hand over mouth vibrations and whispering. It is, as you might think a mighty little thing to hear live. 

Berio’s singer wife Cathy Berberian, had her own turn with Stripsody. Here the singer is shown graphic comic panels and asked to deliver the sounds they see on the page. In the same vein as Cage and Berio, you get the idea but understanding the ideas behind these pieces, things which I have a lot of good to say about though some might roll their eyes. The now late Oliver Knussen got a collective of Whitman Settings. Poems from the American writer. Odd, angular piano meets the elaborate line of the verse, Claron really bringing out their best qualities. Perhaps a less interesting part of the night, though I did still find it intriguing.

Schnittke’s Improvisation and Fugue remained an eye bulging encounter. All the right notes were struck here, the series nature of Alexander coming into his own in what feels like a terror of a piece to play, maintaining a swell chromatic scale that remained enticing. A little flutter form Erwin Schulhoff and his Sonata Erotica saw more fun with Claron and Alexander got to pour water into a metal punch bowl mimicking the sound of a man urinating. This felt like another piece from what is the Dada era and left an impact. 

George Crumb’s Apparition: Elegiac Songs and Vocalises ended the programme and made for another discovery of the late, great American composer. More Whitman, the plucking of piano strings and an all round sense of the ethereal rang through the piece. The moment when Claron turned to sing right into the piano was simply magic. A difficult piece by some means, though it had a folk like charm and theatrical flare that made me smitten with these two.  

Two encores left us well appeased. Please come back! 

(4 / 5)

Starting off at the Royal Academy of Music, Dutch pianist Aidan Mikdad has easily made a name for himself. How easily he made mincemeat of both composers in this fine hour afternoon concert.

The lighter side of Robert Schumann is evident in his Carnaval, a delightful multi movement thrill. Even name dropping a few fellow composers: Chopin and Paganini, the whole feat had the thrill of the joyful ride that teleports us back to the era it was written. Aidan fused well with the many moments and made it look so easy. I imagine these passages proving to be hard work, the winking eye and fairground attraction of the whole piece still having the utmost charm all these years later. This is well needed today.

We’d see Scriabin follow, the Russian born composer who has a cult . I expected a bit more of a storm from his Piano Sonata No. 3 in F sharp major, perhaps I went in with too many assumptions about the composer. Saying this, Aidan proudly showed off his skills in the work. Here a lot of vigour is needed, much frantic action aside daring compositional techniques, bold for Scriabin’s era. Though not my complete cup of tea, I marvelled at Aidan’s technique here. Not essentially sounding Russian, more akin to impressionism and expressionism that would follow in art. Curiously in four movements, each seemingly getting more intense as the rhapsodic flow unveils itself with impressive effect.

Aidan is a pianist to watch out for

(4 / 5)

I don’t often review concerts I’ve heard on the radio. Though the rarity of hearing anything from Olivier Messiaen’s huge opera Saint François d’Assise could not be missed. Though the continent is being treated for the next year with at least three separate set of performances in Stuttgart, Bucharest and Hamburg, our shores would see a sliver of the grand opera. The BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra have taken on the challenge of performing the longest tableaux, that of the third scene of the second act entitled ‘The Sermon to the Birds’.

The first two scenes of the second act already make up an hour, so this proves to be the most testing part. Having said that, this 45 minutes remains a shimmering thrill, the amount of birdsong absurd and the excitement it brings is unbounded. With ten percussionists and a heap of woodwind, there is even three ‘ondes Martenot’, an early electronic instrument filled with smashing, ethereal sonorities, you cant deny this is highly original. In this moment, St Francis watches the birds with Brother Masseo, the former blesses them and they sing out in glory. In this strange orchestration, the birds delight in the sacred nature of the act and sing out loud and proud. The battery the woodwind players and others face in this moment remains a highlight of the entire opera. It is an modulating canvas of colours and noise, seeing birds both local to Umbria and around the world show off. The brass terrifies and the strings also wow with uneasy harmonics. The percussion getting the spotlight for constant playing and energetic vitality. 

I think I could hear Ryan Wigglesworth slightly moaning during peak moments. I imagine this to be exhausting for any conductor to perform, there was apparently a second maestro on stage to reign in the buckets of chirps and whoops of these blessed birds. Ryan has proven his talents time and time again, I imagine this might have been his choice of programme and it being performed so well, should be celebrated. This tenure up north can only prove his brilliance. As the Saint, Ashley Riches pushes through a dense vocal line, all stone like chant and affirmed declarations of the cross. Ashley seems to get it, never any easy role to play by any standard, he might just work in a full outing of the work. As Masseo, Nicky Spence proves his lush tenor, something which has only gotten better as he matures. These two could easily be in the complete opera, I can just picture it.      

In the first half, was Beethoven’s ‘Pastoral Symphony’ or his Sixth. Nicely tying into the theme of birdsong and nature, this might be my favourite of the old Ludvig van, though it’s a fairly vanilla symphony on many levels. Like Messiaen the transcription of birdsong is clear, though a bit arbitrary from Beethoven. You can clearly tell when the birds come in, I imagine that to be quite novel in his day. Having said this, the orchestra offered a pristine take on this delightful symphony. It’s the clarity that has to shine through in this piece of sunshine, storms and other charms. The first moments cant be beat, a tonic for the weary. The last movement with the rampant storm passing to clear the path of sunlight is another mighty moment within the music. 

I wish I had been there for this head turning concert.   

BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra perform Messiaen and Beethoven again in Edinburgh 16 April at Usher Hall at 3pm.

Listen to the concert on BBC Sounds here

(4 / 5)

A review of Poulenc’s second opera, presented by the performers of the David Seligman Opera School, Royal Welsh College of Music and Drama. Sung in English.

Francis Poulenc, the bisexual, French composer is known for a lot of things. His cheery music covers broad strokes in his canon, yet his masterpiece remains Dialogues des Carmélites. This fictionalised take on the Martyrs of Compiègne makes for a fittingly, great opera, though it is not without it’s slight flaws. 

Poulenc fashioned this fine work with scuttling rhythms, tributes to Catholic chants and a fine ensemble of large female voices. In France, The Reign of Terror saw many types of people executed for different reasons, for this warped cause. In what is one of the most lamentable moments in their history, the nuns of the Carmel of Compiègne are sentenced to death. The opera famously ends with each one of them getting the guillotine…

The students of the Royal Welsh College and Music and Drama deliver fine vocals and a stellar orchestra of 60 players also impress. A very bouncy James Southall remained spirited and rigorous throughout this near three hours. A long first half, left us taking a break in the middle of the second act and the English translation remaining mostly audible, a rarity in opera. Director Rachael Hewer kept most of the faith in setting, though couldn’t resist some brief, subversive moments. 

Stella Sifan Chen makes a production of arches, candles and the colours of the French flag looming over the proceedings. Costumes by Shane Erikson are of the era and a nice touch see’s each of the nuns adorned with their personal, golden halos to remind us of their sainthood (they were beatified in 1906 by Pope Pius X).

The cast is filled with vast promise and far too many to mention in an idle review.  Easy to get confused with which sister is which, but all the cast had Mary on their side, some angular moments of blocking also effective for the space. 

The executions themselves were more of an axe affair then the guillotine, a white screen fell for the entire last scene and blast of harsh light from James Blakeman got each nun on the block at sonic speed. I should be more moved at this final agony, yet I’ve always thought Poulenc could have lost himself even more in this wallowing tableaux, piercing moments throughout the opera prove this dreaded anticipation. These students pulled off this demanding opera with might. 

Next David Seligman Opera School is Humperdinck’s Hänsel und Gretel in July 2023.