The National Open Youth Orchestra, the world’s first disabled-led youth orchestra, kicked off their summer tour at London’s Barbican Centre with musicians from the BBC National Orchestra of Wales.
Up to twenty brilliant disabled and non-disabled young musicians from the National Open Youth Orchestra (NOYO) join guest players from BBC NOW in a concert that redefines what a modern orchestra can be.
Expect a dazzling mix of instruments, from strings and brass to accordion, harp and electronic sounds, creating a soundworld that’s bold and fresh. Don’t miss their vivid performance of selections from Vivaldi’s The Four Seasons, and their joyful take on Florence Price’s Juba Dance, complete with swanee whistle! Michael Betteridge’s electrifying Soaring Through Sparks stars soloist Alessandro Vazzana, who plays the Clarion electronic instrument using head movement.
This will be a concert full of heart, with NOYO performing Oliver Cross’s Barriers, a moving tribute to disabled musicians. Under the theme #ThisIsOurOrchestra, everyone has a part to play, on stage and in the audience, as musicians unveil a new co-commission by Charlotte Harding, created in partnership with the BBC.
This relaxed performance is suitable for all, including neurodivergent and disabled audiences, and families.
You can find out more and book tickets at the link here
It was touch and go if I was going to make it London from Wales. I’m glad I made it just about and was rewarded with a treat of a concert. American violinist Elena Urioste might not be know to us in the UK as she should, yet the playing tonight was compelling and subtle.
An Essay of Love would be a lockdown commission from Mark Simpson, a tightrope between gentle discord and seething ambiance. Sospiri by Elgar was a treat, folk like flutters in the piano, played all with force all night by husband Tom Poster. Elena gets rich, typically English wafts in a special little gift of a piece. Rebecca Clarke and her Midsummer Moon from 1924, was effectively modern in the sense of execution and intent. Between impressionism and expressionism, it was fascinating to hear its alluring sensibility.
Most wonderfully Mozart was next with the Vioin Sonata in B flat, as I venture to Salzburg the following morning. I will write more of old Wolfgang in the coming months. Here the husband and wife duo captured the tumbling cheek and witty trick it demands. Always a mood lift and often profound Mozart rarely disappoints. Clarice Assad’s Emotiva opened the first half, interesting sound world and I want to hear it once more. Tanzlied des Pierrot from Korngold’s Die tote Stadt is a rarity and a very pretty one. It really captures the mood perfectly of loving musings, Korngold who fled Europe for the U.S. wrote well for the instrument, his Violin Concerto as another fine example.
Richard Strauss ended with his very own Violin Sonata in E flat. I wondered if this did sound like him? Best known for his operas, tone poems and lieder, I wouldn’t say I felt his style in this. Yet, with the demanding bravado for both, its rhapsodic urgency and the finely crafted structure it is a standout. Strange little bowing nods for Elena and hammering, feverish play for Tom assault the ears, but it is never overdone. Whilst we may not think of the German composer in this type of piece, it was in a sense rather barnstorming.
An encore of Mel Bonis, a French composer finally getting her due, was a wink to a new CD out the next day. I’ll allow it!
What is a lullaby? We have ideas and famous musical pieces to give this an answer. Yet, how to we continue to perceive this style and honour it with newer creations?
Here comes Tamsin Waley-Cohen on violin and Cordelia Williams on piano, to answer this question with considerable breadth. Arriving at the space, we heard gurgles of babies as sparkly lamps would suggest a night light for younger ones. Beginners was Spiegel I’m Spiegel by Arvo Pärt. Still going strong in his 90s, this is one of Pärt’s most cherished creations.
Tamsin captured the reverence and stoney stillness it demands, Cordelia on piano got the scales through and they can feel like a fine partnership. Brahms’ Wiegenlied is truly his most famous creation and one of the most recognisable works of music today. His lullaby is arranged here by both players, and an all-round sense of serene cheer comes over the stage. It might be considered easy to play, naturally I doubt this is true.
Dvořák and his Songs My Mother Taught Me, another fitting tribute. Filled with evocative Czech allure, again Tamsin brings her all, her sense of control over the violin. I grew up playing the same and found it a nightmare to really work at. Seeing her play is a reminder why you should keep going. A world premiere from Freya Waley-Cohen, sister to Tamsin, in a four-thousand-year-old Babaloyinan text. A mother comforts her baby who cries, this little piece was sweet and will see more outings, I’m sure. Scriabin’s Nocturne in F sharp was expectedly moody, the Russian composer often in a sensual realm of expressivity.
John Cage is a rare delight to hear live, and his own Nocturne was no different. Very folk like in writing, with many different techniques for Tamsin to try, as Cordelia gets further strange structures on the keys. The Lullaby by Schubert is curious, touching in its offering, yet slight. Hearing the full Fantasie in C was the big, meaty finale. Tamsin played with a passionate zeal, seeing swooping moments, with a rich, romantic fibre demanded of Schubert. Moments of dance, smiles and reflection all ring here. Cordelia is a fine, clear accomplice, you sense the warm connection between her and Tamsin. An encore of Schumann would lull us off into our day.
Any trip to the Southbank should be spent with the RPO. Even more noteworthy was their concert the day prior in Bristol, which got the premiere for the UK by Joe Hisaishi. With the rest of the programme all Russian, how would this concert fare?
Opening with Ilse of the Dead by Rachmaninoff, conductor Vasily Petrenko introduced the music with his usual dry humour and insight. I can take or leave some Rachmaninoff, this is in the later for me. Inspired by the painting of the same name, there is an effect of mood and dread, yet it never really mingles with much more than mediocre. Hating to write like this, but this is the truth. Yet, with the Royal Phil and Petrenko the playing is always tight and played with conviction.
Joe Hisaishi is best known for his scores for Miyazaki’s timeless animations. In what sounded like great fun, The Border, Concerto for 3 Horns and Orchestra got its first London outing. I’ll say it felt very hushed at the start, the melody for the horns was stringy, with no grab. Said horns are Ben Hulme, Katy Woolley & Alexander Edmundson, who are musically solid in their roles. Moments where they disconnected their mouths pieces of the horns, to sing into them was a nice touch. The through line mostly felt John Adams like in nature, with bouncy and pounding passages. I was mostly unwowed by it, yet with Hisaishi as RPO’s Composer-in-Association there are chances to hear more.
Petrenko speaking of Scriabin in the first half, informed us of his talent and vision as a composer. Had Scriabin finished his Mysterium, it would have been the greatest work of art every created, an artistic apocalypse. Fate would play his hand and the composer would die young of blood poisoning. His 3rd Symphony is dubbed ‘The Divine Poem’ and has many hallmarks of his style. Saying this, the ecstatic, feverish energy we often attribute to the Russian composer are here, yet are muted. Nearly fifty minutes in length, it is hefty and I think some might struggle with it. He was obsessed with light and the sun, moments would prove this, aside angst and passions. Later, manic work of Scriabin would attract me more, though some moments in here suggested the violence and colour of what was to come and what could have truly been.
This concert will air on BBC Radio 3 on 14th July 2026 at 7:30pm and on BBC Sounds for 30 days after broadcast.
This wrap up gig for me in London saw an extensive week of opera and classical. I’ve heard new work and standards all in the space of same evenings. London really is a true cultural capital in many ways for arts and music. Not to be confused with the Manchester Collective, the Manchester Camerata are an other fine musical group who are proud of making music and getting it out there to people. Saying this, I was rather sad to see sways of seats, certainly in the first few rows near empty. Could audiences not handle the work to come?
An evening inspired by mental health would delve the depths of misery and lamentation. Judith Weir and their typically Scottish themed Blue Green Hill would start and set the tone for vision and brilliance. Errollyn Wallen took a snippet of Hamlet, in Ophelia’s famous mad scene. Both singer, Rebecca Hardwick and the instrumentalists shout and mirror each others outbursts. By Gis and by Saint Charity, the name of this piece is odd, perfect for tonight’s theme. A clever, brief companion piece to the 8 Songs that would follow. Wallen has written music with bizarre undertones and even delighted us as well. Schumann’s Kreisleriana, in an arrangement by Simon Parking, would end the first half and this position in the programme a loaded one. Schumann has such mental anguish we might say he had this or that by today’s standard. This take on the piano piece, gently alludes to these troubles, though is still extremely faithful. Light in nature and some moments not the most alluring, we did get a fine cello duet with Hannah Roberts and Ben Powell on piano, towards the finish.
One thing I did find annoying is the pocket programme when trying to write this review, constant flipping and flapping back and forth. No to this. Yet, the big guns of the night was Peter Maxwell Davies and his 8 Songs for a Mad King. An icon of the British Avant-Garde, there is so much that goes on in this swift thirty minutes. John Andrews as maestro is militant, keeping all the antics in check, are attentive circus leader for this. Company Chameleon teamed up with the Camerata to focus on the music yet still have the expected music theatre elements that are baked into the work (the musicians wore jumpsuits suits). But was it enough?
Mezzo Roșie Andrews (in a billowy red dress) might be a first for the role as King George here. We have seen many great men attack the role: Julius Eastman, Roy Hart (who premiered the piece) and Leigh Melrose to name but a few. There may not have been a clear intent to have this figure a king, yet I also doubt if this is even a queen either. The character’s lucidity comes and goes, as we hear shrieks, vocal fries, mutterings, neighs, bird song and rattles just in the voice. The sheet music is equally fascinating, one sheet famously made the bars resemble a bird cage, a theme there. The players are rather busy through out, percussionist Ben Powell has his work cut out for him. King George’s writings are the basis of the variable word-song play, his stranger moments where nothing made sense and a chasm emerged between himself, his family and his subjects.
Andrews has fun and also seem to grasp the role well. Yet I wonder if something was missing? Maybe it was the touches of staging you expect. Thinking down this experiment made me realise just how thrilling Barbara Hannigan would be in the role and perhaps…even Björk! There appears many more ideas could come about for this Mad King.
My first encounter with Norwegian soprano Lise Davidsen was back in 2023 with the Royal Opera’s Tannhäuser. Even with a ropey set of singers, Davidsen shone through proving to be the star of the night. And a star she remains, after her breakout Isolde, opera houses and concert halls are fighting over her.
Even in Wigmore a semi-intimate space, Davidsen in this total set of Schubert reached heights not heard for some time. Audiences and critics really seem to love her, everything is in place. It’s the mood of her voice, perfect for Wagner and German lieder too. It is rare to hear such a thing today. The word effortless has been said a lot and it’s true. Gliding patters, deeply affectionate phrasing and her immaculate pacing are many standout skills of Davidsen. I’m already hearing Kundry, Elsa and Senta, adding to more perfect Wagner characteristics.
These many songs from Schuburt prove his might as a composer. It is one of music’s great losses to have had him die so young. Modesty, reflection, heartbreak, faith, glory and resignation are many of his whirlpool themes, thanks to Goethe and other sharp writers. ‘Gretchen am Spinnrade’ shes the character from Faust linger over love and lose focus on her spinning wheel, the piano cleverly mimicking the later. I should also say on piano, James Baillieu is a worthy contender for these treks, youthful and highly coloured.
The ‘Death and the Maiden’ song would naturally nod to the famous string Quartet and doesn’t quite set the tone for that, but is serious in its dread. ‘Lachen und Weinen’ asks the question of why laughter in the day and tears at night? ‘Der blinder Knabe’ details a young boy, though blind finds contentment in life anyway. The famous and perhaps over done ‘Erlkönig’ is a stirring as ever, though I may have seen it acted better. A father dismisses his son’s vision of a spirit whilst they are on horseback, leading to a stinging finale.
‘Erlkönig’ remains one of Schubert most famous leider, certainly one of his masterpieces. Hammering piano, galloping horses, disturbing supernatural vocal lines and a real sense of the Gothically operatic. ‘Die junge Nonne’ remains holy with further opera and a resounding religious fever. ‘Am Tage allergy Seelen’ was the send off (we were soon gifted two marvellous encores) in what proved to be a a highlight of the year. Lise Davidsen is on the rise and rightfully so!
Listen on BBC Sounds for 30 days after airing live and to be released on Decca label in the future.
My last flutter in London would be a third and final night at the Southbank Centre for further Multitudes fare. In what might have been the most fascinating piece out of these events comes great power and also flaw. The London Philharmonic Orchestra have truly had remarkable, crushing moments in Alban Berg’s Wozzeck, an opera not for the faint of heart. This for me, is a first in opera, where the experiments made in the pit and voices meets the dramatic tension of the narrative. Berg was rather clever and his atonal scores remain an alluring mystery.
I often look back at the Olivier Award winning, Welsh National Opera production from Richard Jones, the first new feat at the Wales Millennium Centre. My intro to the opera has never left me and the horrendous sense of dread and pain in this never leaves you. Conductor Edward Gardener is such a good man, young at heart and firm on the podium. For this remarkable feat, this one off concert would crackle and blast thanks to the vast orchestra. Any one familiar with the play Woyzeck by Georg Búchner, will know the story, Werner Herzog’s film version echoes this.
This spirit tearing drama is in three tight acts, roughly ninety minutes straight through. Wozzeck the solider is pushed around by all who know him: the Captain, his Doctor, his wife Marie and many others. Treated like muck, he never catches a break, his mind breaks and after discovering Marie has cheated on him with the Drum Major, only bad things could happen. As the title character, Stéphane Degout is dark and a ticking time bomb, the baritone role is bloody hard work for anyone who dares. Annette Dasch as Marie had moments of seduction yet I feel she was over shadowed here (we will come on to the video side of things shortly). Another dense role, Dasch comes and goes in the plot, she shone in the horrendous murder scene in the last act. I shall discuss supporting role shortly.
My heart sunk when seeing some of the promotional material for the video work for Wozzeck: Wretches Like Us. Ilya Shagalov and co-creator Nina Guseve have taken a gamble and this has not reaped reward. A slideshow of artificially generated imagey was not on my bingo cards to see at the opera this year. It would appear that AI is becoming such a homestay in our culture. I’m worried about this. The lack of creativeness, the environmental issues and more. Most of these slides saw a contemporary take as Wozzeck is doing various key worker roles, as we see council houses and other British culture staples. Photos as film maker Chris Marker might be envisioned or perhaps the raw, grunginess of Richard Billingham. I was left cold by most of it, amazing how so much AI material is made online, you just don’t want to know. Some of the subtitles were not visible at moments due to the frequency of the image change and the colour of the words.
A large cast got down and dirty in this operatic masterpiece. Peter Hoare is always a great comedic Captain, a role he has done for years. A sour Doctor from a rough and strict Brindley Sherratt is another fine supporting part. Christopher Ventris is the seducing Drum Major, Eriik Grøtvedt as Andres is the worried friend of Wozzeck, singing with a rising determination. Margret played by Kitty Whately was catty and nosey, as the brief neighbour, vocally quite refined and the wittering sprechgesang also wonderful. Adrian Thompson gets a disquieting solo as The Fool, one highlight of many in this mini opera. The London Voices are bar patrons and their ladies too, got on as a harsh and vengeful mob. The Tiffin Boys Choir break our hearts with the final scene, which remains unforgettable. Just no to AI, if you please!
As the Multitudes fest continues at the Southbank, I must confess some displeasure. I vastly recommend the festival produce a brochure like they did last year. A member of staff lamented that forty-five people had expressed this disdain. A theme there! I loathe PDF links to pop on my phone, for reviews the physical form is easier. Even just having a physical ticket is also a thrill. Let’s make this happen.
After the ecstasy of a cinematic Turangalîla-Symphonie the night prior, we’d get an international flight from Circa and the Australian Brandenburg Orchestra. Heralding from Melbourne, both groups have impressed with what their city can offer. Can dance, by way of circus meld with Baroque? Paul Dyer on harpsichord, artistic director would play off and on (some moving minature organ playing would feature also), yet the string players get the distilled meat and veg meal of the work. Bach’s last work remains a mystery. Is the last page missing? How would it have faired in performances in his own day? How could this work with movement?
The artists in Circus impress with feats of physical prowess and endurance. Yet, I did ponder where was the emotional core to the whole thing? Many attempts of acrobatics on top of one another, with resting posting upon the lower persons head and other body parts was tense, truly. You were witness to the strain this had upon the person below bearing the weight of the those above. Many leaps and lunges, as other dancers either capture or let’s those in flight plunge. Some aspects of connection featured, many homoerotic phases came and went, the ladies have stand offs and solos too.
Within these tensions made seeing these players stack themselves up two stories is both alarming and gripping. Yet how many times do we want to see this in a work at an hour and a half in length? Many lucid gatherings saw these dancers swept away en mass as they hardly touched the volcanic ground. Choreography by Yaron Lifschitz, holds many ideas, some work, some don’t. I think it might be recommended a touch more variety come out. Maybe its because I’ve seen seeing the work of Pina Bausch at Sadler’s Wells and the idea of movement is challenged and embraced together. Was my mind elsewhere?
The orchestra are soft, gentle in their playing. No trip ups, yet they feature a subtle ear I’ve heard little of over the years. This might not be Bach’s most clever nor emotional work, I dare say other pieces from the great composer would fare better with Circa (Goldberg Variations, the Passions etc). I do enjoy the collaboration between artists in varying fields, uniting as one. Though this paying off, might pehaps be another other discussion…for another time.
The Art of the Fugue continues till 25th April 2026.
This first trip of the Southbank Center’s Multitudes 2026 festival was for me, familiar fare and a new creation. Recently, I’ve been thinking a lot about film screening with a live orchestra. With Fritz Lang’s Metropolis getting its century next year, I think we really should be seeing more of these.
Leading to this opening concert, the fittingly named 1927 Studios got their collab on with Royal Philharmonic Orchestra for a wonderful take on Olivier Messiaen’s Turangalîla-Symphonie. 1927 Studios are best remembered for their expressionistic Magic Flute, seen in Edinburgh and beyond. Their love of early cinema is second to none and they seen to get away with what they do. Taking Messiaen’s symphony on face value, the Tristan myth is the narrative fabric of their film work. I did wonder if Turangalîla had the capacity to be a camp classic. 1927 Studios prove this!
We are treated to a time capsule, a faithful recreation of cinema gone by. Canadian filmmaker Guy Maddin comes to mind, a rare thing in cinema today to honour the past in such a way. Many of these trappings are cleverly featured on screen. We get all the stagey, awkward acting, character glaring at the camera and old timey intertitles. The frequent orbs, colour fading and screen wipes are fun. The leading actors are always highly effective: a dashing Jake Cecil and a brooding Esme Appleton as the Celtic couple destined to doom. All supporting actors got the memo about how to Jam it up in a odd thing like this and there were several laughs abound. The animation of Paul Barritt and and Francesco Roych never takes itself to seriously with flowers, frolicking and fornication, all relevant to the themes and setting. Their cut-out fairy-sprites design would fittingly suggest Dada and naturally Monty Python all springs to mind as well.
Image Credit: Pete Woodhead
Whilst the film was noteworthy, I must also say how well done the orchestra and soloists were. Conductor Vasily Petrenko always delivers and in this massive, outrageous work, he appears to excel. Sad to see these amazing musicians dimmed on stage, yet the glowed with a radiance this silly piece demands. The percussion is worthy, a battery on the stage. The winds and brass get many alarming, bombastic passages, often thrilling, always incredible. The strings astound with vigour and tenderness, Indian melodies meld with piercing romance. The beauty of Messiaen is his juxtaposition as well as variety of styles. On piano, Steven Osborne got mighty moments, absurd drama in slamming and flutters on these keys. The ondes Martentot, the early electronic instrument made famous by Messiaen (and later the band Radiohead), was here from Cécile Lartigau. This must be a delight to play on ondes, its range vast, its joy unbounded. Lartigau played it with graceful ease, you don’t require a virtuosic scope for the instrument, I’d imagine. But it is always wonderful, I’d say a rare thing, yet we hear it now in concert and films most often.
Multitudes continues at the Southbank Centre till 30th April 2026.
The Welsh National Opera marks its 80th anniversary with Wagner’s The Flying Dutchman. Tomáš Hanus conducts in what is the final opera of his tenure as WNO’s Music Director and directed by Jack Furness in his WNO debut. Overall, the production has solid performances from the cast and orchestra, and a superb chorus.
The Flying Dutchman is the story of the Dutchman (Simon Bailey), an immortal sailor who has been condemned to sail the oceans eternally and whose destiny and soul can only be redeemed by the faithful love of a woman. The sea-merchant Daland (James Creswell) finds his ship has gone off course, due to the distraction of his young steersman, and is now next to a mysterious ghostly ship, whose captain introduces himself as a Dutchman. After learning that the Dutchman is wealthy, Daland offers him hospitality and his daughter’s hand in marriage.
Back at the village, Senta (Rachel Nicholls), Daland’s daughter is infatuated with the tragic story of the Dutchman. Her former lover Erik (Leonardo Caimi) tries to pull her away from the Dutchman and tells her his premonitory dream of her union with the Dutchman. The Dutchman sees the former lovers together and thinks himself damned for eternity, yet Senta follows the Dutchman unto her death.
photo credit: Craig Fuller
The Flying Dutchman marks the first opera in Wagner’s artistic development. The overture introduces the underlying themes, though not quite leitmotifs as Wagner would later develop, these musical themes structure the opera. The striking feature of the opera lies in the musical contrast between the harmonies of the earthly characters and the dissonant non-traditional harmonies of the ghostly sailors. The magnificent chorus does it justice.
The singing opens well with Trystan Llŷr Griffiths as the young steersman and with a solid performance by James Creswell as Daland. Simon Bailey’s voice has all the dark intensity of the Dutchman seemingly without strain. Rachel Nicholls, although lacking full control of her voice, she performs well, especially in the duets with the Dutchman and with Erik. Leonardo Caimi conveys effectively his longing and fear. Monika Sawa’s voice is warm and versatile. It is the chorus, however, that stands out in bringing to life this eerie drama.
Director Jack Furness chooses to give some sort of psychological reasoning behind Senta’s obsession with the Dutchman by opening the scene with a woman in labour, followed by a young child in a red dress running around the stage and then becoming a running around Senta. Alas, this choice distracts from the overture’s themes and ends up being utterly puzzling when, at the end of the opera, instead of Senta ascending to heaven with the Dutchman, who is redeemed by her sacrifice, we see Senta running around again and ending up in her mother’s bed.
The staging is minimal and on the whole effective, although seemingly devoid of any hints of the sea, letting Wagner’s music doing the heavy lifting. As in previous WNO productions, there is a tendency to fall for crass semi-erotic displays that are irksome and fail to convey the social and cultural setting of the opera. Seafaring communities are not vulgar simply because they lack the graces of the higher classes.
Notwithstanding some weaknesses, the WNO continues to deliver under very difficult circumstances. This Flying Dutchman has substance and gets a very warm reception by the public.
Creating opportunities for a diverse range of people to experience and respond to sport, arts, culture and live events. / Lleisiau amrywiol o Gymru yn ymateb i'r celfyddydau a digwyddiadau byw
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