(4 / 5)

It’s been on the bucket list for a while to see the emerging superstar pianist Khatia Buniatishvili. With her season at the Barbican, she is playing in an array of varied repertoire. This is all very exciting and the time to see her live was upon me. Before this, Academy of St Martin in the Fields set of with Mozart’s Don Giovanni Overture. Director Benjamin Marquise Gilmore lead as first violin, taking over conducting duties without ever needing to conduct. The energy between him and the players is magnetic, Mozart’s spiralling themes and punches hit the audience as they have done for centuries.

Khatia had planned to rather ambitiously perform the solo for two Mozart concerti, though this would fall through. Though her time spent with his Piano Concerto No. 23. This was in many ways perfection, Khatia arrived to the stage in a golden dress, one statement of many. Her playing is effortless (so glad I could see the keys and her hands) graceful yet also violent. Her little moments of conducting, clutching of fists in the air after dramatic passages and her swaying are poetry. This famous concerto has wide appeal and with Khatia playing, each of the three movements were a joy. Her playing of the stupendous Adagio was creamy and oh so right. It’s empowering seeing a musician on this scale. The encore was the very well known Debussy that delighted the audience and left us keen to see her in the new year.

The cancelled other Mozart concerto was replaced respectfully with Mendelssohn’s The Hebrides Overture. The German composer vividly recounted his trip to Scotland with watery cleverness and a sweeping orchestration. Again, the players were were a resounding success, the balance calibrated to a fine set. Fittingly, Haydn’s Symphony No. 104 was the finale. Dubbed the ‘London’, this master of the craft gave thrills and laughs abound. Eccentric in nature, its four movements are curious and noteworthy for their almost ironic tone.

We were then gifted an encore of Sibelius’ Nocturne, the serene flute from Michael Cox the definition of pianissimo. I could not have found a better wrap up.  

(2 / 5)

It’s the wrap up for BBC NOW for the year. Those feeling festive can savour their upcoming Messiah and Christmas thrills, though for me it ends with a more formal offering.

Gabriella Smith started things off with a vivid seascape, that of Tumblebird Contrails. Here the eerie nature of the sea and its command over humans is displayed in a full throttle delivery. I noticed the strings and percussion as stand outs. I can’t say I’ve ever seen a cymbal struck on a timpani drum, so that’s a first. Fairly uneasy in the crescendo harmony, I still found it compelling even if it was brief and for me, the highlight of the night.

Simon Wills continued as both composer and methodical conductor (the rest of the concert was under the baton of a thrilled Geoffrey Paterson) in a sort of James Joyce inspired work. ‘Nora Barnacle Assumes Command’ is a new trumpet concerto and Wills claimed it is not necessarily inspired by the duo. Nora was lovers with Joyce for years and their first meeting is mirrored in his megalithic novel Ulysses. I’m sad to say, it was very conventional and might just be the most dull world premiere I’ve ever heard. Donal Bannister as soloist proves his talents, yet the piece never really shows him off, its greyscale never enchanced. We’ve seen Bannister in BBC NOW for years and his talks on Mahler were always bright and piffy. Aside from fun circus and ommpa passages, I was unmoved by this venture. Pity.

Celebrating his 150th birthday, Charles Ives saw a smattering of performance of his work this year. Ryan Bancroft (pictured) was meant to take over this night for Ives’ Symphony No. 1, the American maestro has excelled in the past with his other symphonies and tone poems. This is early Ives, prior to his plunge into wealth (thanks to a lucrative insurance firm) and his famous experimentation within music. He would create pieces decades before their time, even with some academics claiming he wrote this work much later. His 1st, is extremely safe and again, a bit boring. Inspiration from hymns and marching bands feel present yet never developed into anything really note worthy. Even the rich ‘American sound’ is not here and made me crave much more wild work such as his 4th Symphony or Three Pieces in New England. Aside from the Three Page Sonata, this was the only Ives I heard live in this birthday year…I was hoping to hear heaps more.

It also has to be noted that even with this live on the radio, some audience members choose to talk and thumble about during the music. We’ve had issues before and we can dream that these get ironed out. We’re all here to listen and make discoveries. Let’s respectfully share the joy together in quietness. Also, with the plea for physical programmes to come back to the space, there are improvements to be made. I’m sure I’ll enjoy the new year’s concerts much more: Poulenc, Boulez and Messiaen prove promising.

Listen on BBC Sounds now. 

(4 / 5)

A new ensemble to discover. Some familiar faces along the way. New work and experimental master abound. Helen Grime and her Seven Pierrot Miniatures took fitting poetry not used in the later Schoenberg as the bedrock for this. Pierrot being the clown icon of the Commedia dell’arte character from Italian culture is the foundation for half the programme. Grime’s music here is fluffy, strange, almost evocative. A premiere from Piers Hellawell…Woodsmoke. This would be Robert Plane on clarinet, best know to Welsh (and BBC Proms) audiences as leader of the instrument for BBC NOW and Tim Horton on piano. A harsh work, still very much in a rigid form, though alert and heightened with fine furies from both players.

It would be Brahms to cleanse the pallet, that of his Trio for Clarinet, Cello & Piano in A minor. Unlike his other pieces, Brahms has an effortless idea after idea in this trio. The melodies flow and are at ease with the three players. Whilst Plane lead in many ways, cellist Gemma Rosefield also found alluring offerings, the writing for her instrument she seemed to truly savour. Those of you who know me might scoff at Brahms, yet when he does it right (in such instances like a piece like this) there can be magic and an accessible scope.

Lastly for what I was here for: Schoenberg’s Pierrot Lunaire. Soprano Claire Booth has recorded this with the Ensemble to glowing reviews, so expectations were high. This is Schoenberg before the tight Twelve-tone technique he would be most famous for. What this is however is a bizarre, vivid, uncompromised set of songs with a singer who talks, as opposed to singing proper. This ‘sprechgezane’ changes little over it’s more than twenty movements, only altering in temperament, volume and enunciation. For the early years of the 20th Century, its bonkers and a thrill to those willing to respect it. The ensemble play with expressive density and allure, Booth savouring this peculiar piece with sharp set of performative skills throughout. A plus one not akin to this as much asked me during: “Why is everything in German so intense??” That cannot be denied.

(4 / 5)

It’s been over a decade I’d say since last seeing the great Sarah Connolly. Now a Dame, one of England’s finest mezzos spent an evening at Wigmore with a inspired programme. Whilst Imogen Cooper could not make it on piano (a decision apparently made months ago), Joseph Middleton gave the honours.

In an all German first half, it was everything I’d ever need. In Schumann’s 6 Gedichte von N Lenau und Requiem (bare with me, this is correct), we got a splendid account from Connolly. Her German sounds great and is a lovely actor too, the sensuality and aching in the verse bleeds out. Her voice never overbears at all. The mezzo is finely crafted, the gusto she brings but a thrill to all. These German themes would continue with Huge Wolf and a fine selection of his songs. These too were superb, dare I say even more thrilling than the prior. A rich evocative nature was the aura of these, Middleton also as strong in these allusive bars which never gave away all their secrets.

After the break, a breakneck voyage to France, England and the United States. Debussy’s Chansons de Bilitis, was a deeply allusive set of three magical songs filled with merriment. Henri Duparc (who usually crops up at French recital’s) had the Extase in this continuation of the Gallic themes. Not as perceptive as the Debussy, though light and bright, filled with smiles. A selection of Benjamin Britten folk arrangements charmed, even with his stuffy ironies. ‘Sephestia’s Lullaby’ from A Charm of Lullabies was a stand out, a whiplash delivery in a nursery rhyme patter, so fetching the audience lapped it up. An end with songs of Samuel Barber was a more solemn turn, the solemn words of James Joyce ringing true. ‘Sleep now’ one of a few surprises, it was just a bit dreary to end with. Still the musicianship was razor-sharp, as expected.

The encore was Tangoes by Richard Rodney Bennett, what finer way to send us off?

(3 / 5)

After two concerts over the space of a day, I was not quite yet done with Wigmore Hall.  The next afternoon, we got an afternoon dubbed ‘Au cimetière de Montmarte’, a tribute to the cultural district in Paris. Though this was mostly a French programme, we started in German with Robert Schumann. His Dichterliebe were a delightful collection of songs. These little pieces oozed with love, and more love, nature and landscapes and a passion for the heroic. So brief, over in a few bars and they delighted in every sense. Tender listening.

Julien is a fine baritone  but my one reservation are the high notes. They go into a realm of the almost uneasy, an enforcement not pleasing at all. Though the middle register is great, the low notes wonderous pools of depth. On to France with Berlioz and Lili Boulanger, the later being much more intriguing. The former’s extracts from Les nuits d’ete were witty and sombre, though with Lili we gets lots of ideas and impressionisms. Her Attente is new to me, though anytime we hear her it’s quite special, her tragically early death snubbed out a composer of real talent.

Poulenc and his Banalités are cheeky portions of froth and nostalgia in equal measure. The cabaret is very much the setting, the mood is sultry and fun. Pianist Alphonse Cemi looks like he enjoys the material just as much as our singer, playing with an abandon little seen today, fast and truly tight when needed. Further merry treats from Guilbert and Trenet ended this Parisian voyage. It was one of light humour, conversational insights and of moody illusions. An English classic as an encore: A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square was musically just about right, bringing us back to our current local. 

(4 / 5)

The BBC Singers remain one of many musical institutions who have been compromised by politics and funding. We’ve seen all the dismal activity in Wales with some of our groups, we really feel all this is happening at the wrong time.

This wonderful concert in a perfect venue had all the right features. Condensed down to 70 minutes and with the loss of conductor Sofi Jeannin, it would be Nicholas Chalmers who would take the plucky reins. This John Taverner heavy concert was filled with light, beauty and hope. Samuel Barber’s Angus Dei, better known as the Adagio for Strings in its quartet arrangement is famous and remains as powerful as when it was written. The Singers excel here, brooding harmonies and gentle harmonics are their powerhouse. Kristina Arakelyan’s Evening Prayer has few tricks nor frills, though was a miniature of grace, a subtlety not heard for some time.

Tavener’s Funeral Ikos is taken from the Greek Orthodox Church for when one of their priests dies. With stirring vocals and the sharing of the passages between the gendered singing groups, it could only be moving. The “Alleluias” are particularly strong, warm and golden as they stretch out between all. A return from Arakelyan, this time her Holocaust Memorial Day Hymn. This smooth writing comes from a composer in her youth, filled with promise. I’d like her to push the envelope and try out more experimental things.

Repurposed for Princess Diana’s funeral, Song for Athene was heard by over a billion people that day. It never loses its footing, the pacing is perfect too. Grabbing slices of Hamlet and more Orthodox wording, the chorus had moments of sheer wonder here. You are always pleased when it’s on the programme and it should leave many eyes teary. A more recent outing from 2014 with Tavener’s Requiem Fragments was the end this night. Having died the year prior, this send off saw its premiere at the Proms in London. Inspired by Renaissance master Josquin des Pres, these fragments also feature a string quartet and three trombones.

It’s odd in many ways, though filled with bracing, pretty moments you’d always expect. The quartet add a lot of power in the blend with the singers. The trombones are used sparingly, if little more then plodding and brief declarations. With Hindu texts melding with Latin, it felt like one of many latter offerings of Tavener and his fascination with faiths of the world. Even the opening words are a zen like “Ommmmm”. The solo for soprano stood behind us in her lush choral is then mirrored by the chrous, a standout of the piece and then done again for good measure. I think I may have preferred this upon its first outing, listening on the radio a decade ago. 

(3 / 5)

In their tenth anniversary, Septura brass have made a name for themselves in the brass world. This being my first encounter, I wanted to savour their sound. The debate rages on whether brass on it’s own works as well as expected…still I was keen to see. Artistic director Matthew Knight would like me to think so.

Orlande de Lassus’ Lagrime di San Pietro is very much of its era, 16th Century. Septura has covered a broad palette spanning five centuries, new commissions also part of their makeup. It was lovely to heard essentially medieval music, unbovered by complexities, just affectionate and pleasing music.

Roxanna Panufnik got a premiere with her Seven Heavens. Music is in the family her father also a composer. I was stood behind her at the box office, we must do an interview sometime. Inspired by the Islamic depiction of the seven levels of heaven, the piece has an expectedly exotic plain. Using scales from the Muslim world, the effect was of worth, even if a whiff of novelty lingered. Strange harmonies between the players, aside perfumed solos was pretty much the whole piece. It also opens up the truth of musical languages from around the world, something not always seen today.

In an argument by Simon Cox, a selection of Prokofiev’s 10 Pieces Op. 12 was a cheeky opener to the second half. As ever acidic and bursting with rampant sure fire wit, you can always rely on the Russian composer. The audience was amused too, some laughter after certain moments stood out. For me, this and the last piece was the most fetching and attentive.

Shostakovich’s String Quartet No. 8, arranged by Simon Cox and Matthew Night worked very well. The alarming energy and morbid musings of Shostakovich didn’t win in the cross over. This quartet from 1960 came after years of deeply rooted anxiety and paranoia over his home county and his position in it. Could further arrangements work just as well?

The encore was on the tip of my tongue, I thought it was Debussy but I cant quite recall. 

Saturday 16th November 2024