(4 / 5)

We lost Peter Maxwell Davies a few years ago and his legacy is being greatly considered. Whilst most might shy away from the blunt nature of his music, there is an always theatrical skill to it and he truly remained one of a kind.

Prior to Max’s masterpiece, the Mad Song Ensemble presented contemporary music of an impressive degree. Anna Semple and her Pinter inspired After Torcello starts as a counting game for the players, leading to wispy playing. Strings of the violin and cello are massaged not stressed, the keys of the flute dampened with no breath. The end also remained curious, the conductor leaves the stage, as the musicians pull poses as if to play on. To start, this was an evocative opening and had a real moody feel to it.

Within Richard Causton and Phoenix, the main point of reference is very clearly Messiaen and his Quartet for the End of Time. Inspired by the mythical bird, there is an energy and valour within, though the piece might slightly over stay its welcome. Blue-Green Hill from stalwart Judith Weir seems to have been forgotten about after an overture was hastily needed in a tour of India. Scottish folk melodies are the major factor and the work is the middle ground between dance work and dense, some uncanny doubts lingering in it’s undercurrent. There is an ending of plummy British feel, a vibrant cleansing of the palate.

For the big gun’s Maxwell Davies Eight Songs for a Mad King finally was heard after cancellations. There are no prisoners for this 30 minutes assault, detailing the madness of King George III. We hear quotes from his real life, though we can’t always make out the excellent libretto of Randolph Stow. How the king shrieks, grunts, babbles and blathers. This is purely because of the shattering of the words into pure letters and syllables. The king tries to teach birds to sing and other curiosities. Also, note worthy is the sheet music, with one page a birdcage creation, a symbol of the mental health struggles on stage and the birds in the sound world.

Truly a great work about going into the psyche, you need a committed performer to take it on. Benedict Nelson shines in this ludicrous role, arriving on stage with a shirt barely buttoned and socks tucked into his sweat pants. At one point he appears to inhale a tin of fish like a jackal puppy and a paper crown is adorned upon his head for a brief few bars at the starting line. Being in the front row might have been a mistake as you feel being too near a tiger in its cage. A violin is furiously smashed at one point, a metaphor for one of the king’s birds he is teaching to sing.

The players also shines in an incredibly demanding piece, the fitting harpsichord and flurry of random percussion are just some highlights. We of course expected there to be bird whistles and the like, though it is the brief blast of a didgeridoo that proves the work’s hippy period execution. Maestro Joshua Ballance is a young, bright keeper of proceedings and all through the evening he proved a love of experimental music.

(4 / 5)

When seeing the Royal Philharmonic there is always a mood in the air. Most certainly one of the finest orchestra’s on earth, any visitation to Cardiff is always welcome.

There was no collar-pulling with the presence of Vasily Petrenko, who has right denounced titles in Russian roles he has held. What is their loss, is the rest of the peaceful world’s gain, with a hawk eyed conductor with some showy gesturing and buzzing physicality. Walton’s Johannesburg Festival Overture is a new discovery for me, this brief starter for the 70th anniversary of the namesake city’s formation. It’s a romp, with strident dance motifs and a seething celebratory nature. Note worthy is the percussion including maracas and claves, adding to the sun kissed vibe. I would say I’d be down to hear that live again.

Another Russian exile would be Boris Giltburg, who on piano passed us by with Beethoven’s Fifth Piano Concerto. Known as the Emperor, this has many recognisable themes, the soloist having more subtle phases than the clamour the composer is usually known for. Boris grinds the piano, dizzying in his warm, rampant strides. Where the piece goes wrong is with a lot of time spent with the orchestra and not the piano, perhaps the biggest flaw of the piece. You do get those earthy, manic moments from Ludvig and they are forever embedded into classical music. Boris blessed us with a Rachmaninov prelude as an encore. It is easy to fall for Boris in moments such as these.

Vaughn Williams’ Second Symphony would end proceedings. Given the nickname “London” it’s easy to think of your own time spent in The Big Fog. The sweeping, large work is a love letter to the city, even with the fatigue one can feel from the place. The love-hate relationship feel is here, moments of jovial carnivals can be jarring and overblown. Vaughn Williams’ mastery over the English idyll still features here, some green spaces traversed sparingly. The fabric of the music might conjure up a soundtrack feel, images not always defined by a location. A harp clearly mimics the bells of a clock (perhaps Big Ben), though it does not complete the melody associated with the time and ends at what would state quarter to the hour. Contemporaries such as Holst and Walton offer shared harmonies and chords, the piece not always sounding as English as the composer if often accredited with. Quite charming.

(3 / 5)

It was the Ellen Kent production of Madam Butterfly in 2020, that Cardiff would not be seeing. In a usual return, Tosca and Carmen would be back in the Welsh capital. I’ve seen Kent’s collaborative productions before, working extensively in eastern Europe, this recent venture a timely journey through the UK and Ireland with the Ukrainian National Opera of Kyiv.

Kent has truly done amazing work to introduce new audiences to opera since the early 90s. I’ll confess some of the marketing promises animals and water features, only to be present at a select venues. Though billed in the poster, we would not see any Royal Greyhounds in Cardiff, though there presence fleeting and a bit showy any. Maybe the appeal comes from seeing more traditional opera productions, most directors today awash in fanciful experimentation and warping of setting and costume.

This staging in St David’s Hall does not really impress. Some doors appear unpainted and undecorated, not ready for showing. Other gates should stay closed only to open again, breaking the mood of the final act prison scene. Tosca in one moment touched a pillar only for it to buckle again the wall. I’m thinking about the durability of these sets and probs knocking about the entire British Isles, though I feel a bit more work is needed. Stage hands arrive in tracksuits to hurl the furniture about, this ramshackle feel is never far away.

Having said this, the singing was just fine. Our Tosca is Elena Dee well armoured in the demanding prima donna role. Her famous aria is delivered with emotion and a well versed knowledge of Puccini’s vision. She shines well with the decent looking costumes, she parades through in the three acts. Her lover, Cavaradossi is here from Vitalii Liskovetskyi, another great venture. He is perfect for the role, a sweeping vocal line and tenderness are never far away. The villain Scarpia is Vladimir Dragos, who embodies the role with terror, a sexual predator who always gets what he wants. His downfall is always satisfying, mock booing is fair game at the curtain as Dragos comes out laughing. I remained unsure about the voice of Eugeniu Ganea as the escaped prisoner Angelotti, though this is a small role.

The subtitles above the stage could not always keep up with the drama. Conductor Nicolae Dohotaru held the tension throughout, though the orchestra may have had a little slip up here and there. For such a small orchestra they made a lot of noise and worked hard in the pit. Though I’m sure the tubular bells did not sound quite right. The chorus blasted out in the Te Deum, with Oliver Papadakis getting the pretty little solo as the Shepherd Boy.

Expectedly, the night ended with a rousing rendition of the Ukrainian anthem. Dee looked stoic here holding up the flag with Liskovetskyi, with some of the chorus wiping away tears. A touching moment, made all the more real for this opera company who’s thoughts are with home.

Tosca continues on tour with Carmen and Madam Butterfly.

(4 / 5)

My time in London is wrapping up. A day spent with English National Opera would herald a fine last day in the capital and I couldn’t have been happier. Though my health has comprised my enjoyment somewhat, I ventured on the New Harewood Artists recital at St Martin’s-in-the-Field.

I found joy in hearing more of Clara Schumann and her friend Brahms, in a mostly Germanic programme from bass William Thomas. With smouldering good looks and a surprising, volcanic voice, William has much promise, this set from him proving how perfect he would be for Don Giovanni and possibly some Wagner baddies, the Russian repertoire a must. There was a sensuality with these German lieder, a romance often awash in the joy of nature, true love and broken hearts. This was an opening I found very impressive.

A coughing fit would prevent me from hearing all of soprano Alexandra Oomens. I did get to savour Night by composer of colour Florence B. Price and sadly with eyes streaming and throat raging, I had to leave to acquire water. I stood at the back for the rest of the concert. What I did hear of Alexandra was an exquisite voice that I was upset I missed most of. Her recent outing in ENO’s HMS Pinafore proves her quick wit and broad repertoire outings. I can only apologise for my temperamental throat.

Last but not least, New Zealand born Sāmoan baritone Benson Wilson grappled with war and it’s aftermath. You can’t think of George Butterworth without thinking of A Shropshire Lad, a staple of WW1 memorials. These tender and often considerate songs were as English as cricket, builder’s tea and bulldogs. A touching orb seemed to hover over each song, the lingering sense of loss and regret is never far away. Butterworth was one of over the million men who lost their life at The Somme. Benson has meaty vocals, his looming stature and rugged nature also evident. The end with Robert Wiremu’s Ake Ake Kia Kaha E (Victory and Glory), the feel of an Italian art song, leading to a soaring haka, which rang out into the church. Marvellous.

The conclude all three singers offered a trio from Donizetti’s Don Pasquale. Witty and delightful, this fragments again, proved the power of these three singers, talent and more talent. It’s only up from here!

ENO in the Fields counties with concerts till 30 April 2022.

(5 / 5)

I returned to the Barbican, to watch American mezzo Joyce DiDonata who gave a supreme evening of hand picked songs and arias inspired by the thrill of nature. Even as we sat down, seeds had been left on our seats for us to take home, a sweet little gift. This had the feel of an ambitious work, the small platform Joyce loiters was constantly shifting, with two silver orbs courting around her, her own ring cycle if you will. Ives’ The Unanswered Question lost the trumpet and Joyce took on the role in an ethereal change to the notation. Rachel Portman’s premier of The First Morning of the World was a luscious evocation, leading to some Mahler, Copland and Gluck. Opera lovers will relish this buffet of sweet treats from Theodora, Orfeo ed Euridice and La Calisto.

I was filled with sheer joy to hear Joyce sing, the world simply glows when she does. There is a grand, sumptuous quality in her execution, I now know what all the fuss is about. Different languages are easily converted, Joyce easily going in between English, German and Italian with ease. A funny moment came when a part of the rotating rings disconnect and with a smile, she put a finger to her lips. The concluding Mahler, the final song from Rückert-Lieder was of such a devastating impact, I found it hard to keep things together. The words are of a figure dying, leaving the world to the feel of some of Mahler’s finest, calmest music. Joyce captured the intensity of the lieder and is one of perhaps the finest living singers to tackle it. I could have cried for longer.

Encores of Wagner and Handel were so appreciated. It also has to said how wonderful Joyce’s time spent with children in music workshops is, leading to a touching new song delivered by them all and performed to the audience of opera lovers and proud parents. She spoke of how we’ve changed after Covid and how they couldn’t find a choir for workshops in Luxembourg (think of that happening in Wales!). Children and adults alike need live music now after all we’ve been through. Grabbing her autograph, she remarked I was the first critic she’d met who was after such a thing. I will cherish it, just like this concert.

Joyce DiDonato: Eden runs at the Barbican Centre till 6 April 2022.

(3 / 5) Eva-Maria Houben & GBSR Duo

(5 / 5) Claire Chase Presents Pauline Oliveros

(4 / 5) London Symphony Orchestra

A intense weekend of events wrapped up nicely with the conclusion of SoundState at the Southbank Centre. I had officially crashed around this point, though keen to see more. Till the bitter end really.

Starting off with ‘together on the way’ from Eva-Maria Houben & GBSR Duo. By far one of the quietly intense concert experiences I’ve ever been too, the Queen Elizabeth Hall was awash in stillness, if not the odd cough and shuffle. One part quite demanding, it also found it rather zen, a well needed mediation after a non-stop few days. Nature comes to mind and outer space, the organ here only ever a drone to the interplay of piano and percussion. You can feel the spirit of Morton Feldman, though it doesn’t quite reach that plateau. Amazing how the organ could sound like train whistles or an an earthquake when the stops are teased. Wales’ own Siwan Rhys played oh so softly on the piano, with some Henry Cowell like string strums and stimulating chords. George Barton was another fine addition on percussion, an attractive array of gongs, temples bowls amongst other delights. Eva-Maria Houben had some deeply impressive concentration levels to keep the organ on the straight path in it’s never ending backing ambience.

Following on was a fine highlight of the entire festival. Claire Chase and the music of Pauline Oliveros was a mere 45 minutes in length and had a massive, lasting impact. Endlessly charming, Claire plays flute supremely well. Her acting also note worthy, since Oliveros demands a performer musicianship, something right up my line of work. Sounds from childhood, asks the audience to create noises they loved making as a child, something I had to abstain from due to my usually temperamental throat, Senem Pirler on live electronics capturing the noises for a unique performance then manipulated it into a brittle soundscape. She did a super job throughout.

13 Changes featured written, Magritte like visions leading to traditional flute, panpipes, and other similar woodwind, Claire showing her breadth in the field. A little boy behind me spoke of this confusion cornering the words, some funny little moments here. Ending with Intensity 20.15 – A tribute to Grace Chase, Claire has taken the posthumous poetry her grandmother left around. A fabulous circus theatre here, as the words become almost Gertrude Stein like, moment after moment of Jaime vu intensity, as the ludicrous heights only gets higher. Shoes and scrappy hand bags frequent the space as all this occurs. Her grandmother’s poetry is piffy, witty, with flickers of sharp observation constantly on show. The grand finale was a solo on the massive contrabass flute, a sight not to take lightly. This touching performance will be on my mind for some time.

–

To end the huge weekend was a trip to the Barbican, making me sadly miss the last event of SoundState Music of Today: How Forests Think. London Symphony Orchestra gave an evening of mostly new music, an exciting night of premiers. Finish composer Joel Järventausta’s Sunfall was a world premiere and had the heat of the sun going for it, inspired by our own very star and early, blazing impressionistic paintings. Helen Grime’s Trumpet Concerto featured soloist Håkan Hardenberger, in a slick three piece grey suit. Somewhere between jazz and contemporary classical, the piece never found any ground to call it’s own. Though the opening and closing was a clear reference to The Unanswered Question by Charles Ives. I felt little for the piece, though Håkan did excel her, face bright red in what comes across as a concert that will require further listing to really understand it.

The pearl of the premiers came from Spain’s Francisco Coll and his Violin Concerto. Soloist Patricia Kopatchinskja dazzled in her charcoal affronted white dress. She rarely stoped playing and the whole piece was frantic, alive in a locomotive bombardment. A touching slow movement was powerful, the final few minutes taking on a jolting, free form style as if the composition was buckling under its own weight The audience were very much impressed with this new work and it should do the round more. Coll is a composer to follow for sure. Even his self-portrait in the programme proves even further talents.

The evening would also feature two of Richard Strauss’ tone poems: Till Eulenspiegel and Death and Transfiguration. Whilst the first had cheeky, trickery inspired by the German trickster, the latter had a deep soul, fine harmonies leading to a rousing conclusion. Strauss excels in writing for orchestra, François-Xavier always on top form as conductor be it premier or a concert classic. He excites audiences every time he grabs the baton.

The London Symphony Orchestra concert will stream on Marquee TV for a future broadcast.

(2 / 5) Arditti Quartet

(3 / 5) Mark Knoop

(4 / 5) London Philharmonic Orchestra

Arditti Quartet Programme:

Christian Mason: This present moment used to be the unimaginable future (UK premiere)
Clara Maïda: … das spinnt for amplified string quartet
Betsy Jolas: String Quartet No.8 (Topeng) (UK premiere)
Tansy Davies: Nightingales: Ultra-Deep Field (UK premiere)

After the giddy thrill of seeing Meredith Monk live for the first time, I wanted to check out more of the Southbank Centre’s SoundState festival. In an intimate afternoon, the Arditti Quartet tackled new work, pushing the boundaries and listeners with the medium of the string quartet. I must put my cards on the table, and say I struggled with this repertoire. I find it hard to believe coming from me, who has always been on a journey of new discoveries. Christian Mason’s opening piece had an interesting use of space with two of the players standing towards the back corners of the Purcell Room, the piece ending with them all leaving the stage still playing.

It would be hard to pinpoint any markers within this music. My concern lies in the blunt method of music making, a hang over from the Second Viennese School. It would be reductive to say this felt like a Webern Fan Club, though his influence was there along with other serialists. The expected shrillness and unhinged sounds couldn’t formulate any visual stimuli, perhaps more abstract sights would be fitting? There was little in rest bite of the anxious, nimbly bow play, the strange prodding of the senses. For once I cried out for a melody…never thought I’d say that. I left flustered and with a headache.

There was some tinkering with show times on this Saturday at the festival and Sex Magic by Liza Lim was given a later slot, giving a three hour break after Arditti for Mark Knoop’s recital. I would miss Liza’s show and was sad to do so. Knoop’s concert had some curious work, a premier from Akiko Ushijima and more. Materia opened with rowdy electronics and Knoop proving his tricks as a musicians itching to take on bold pieces. A dance between man and the electric gave off a wondrous show. They complimented each other, the brittle noises joining the elongated piano writing.

Canon in C from 3 Canons for Ursula by Nancarrow was less impressive. Not the MIDI type playing the composer is notorious for, essentially piano music so complex a human could not physically play it. There is elegance in this Canon, Knoop fitting this choice and it left you hungry for more of that outrageous music. For my sins, I sadly, missed the final piece on the programme: Matthew Shlomowitz’s Explorations in polytonality and other musical wonders Volume 1. From what I did see I must express how invigorating it was hearing these strident works up close and personal. Will absolutely see more of Knoop.

–

Rushing over to the other side of the centre, a chance encounter with the London Philharmonic gave rise to a super evening from France and Germany. I’ve spoken in recent reviews about the unrepresented nature of female composers. With Lili Boulanger, a French artist who died tragically young, her sister Nadia is best remembered as one of the big teachers of composers in the 20th century. Lili’s Psalm 129 was only a few minutes in length, though had a big impact and a bigger heart. It is the early Debussy likeness and soundtrack feel that stand her apart, way ahead of her time. The chorus really pelting out some sublime harmonies, though brief and still teary. Olivier Messiaen’s Le tombeau resplendissant is a fine example of his early output of music, the influence of Stravinsky and his Catholic faith being most on stage. The exhilaration and veneration seeps throughout all the orchards groups shining with bold, rampant passages. Messiaen withdrew the piece from his canon for reasons we may never know, a strange decision since the piece is brilliant and a great gateway to the hurtling, mouth dropping later scores.

Edward Gardner continued to show his casual brilliance with Brahms’ A German Requiem. The might of the large orchestra and massed London Philharmonic Choir and The Rodolfus Choir. The singing also help up extremely well the constant declarations in this mass being direct and clearly executed. Baritone Roderick Williams remained highly skilled during his solos, a friend at the concert remarked his German was “on point”. Always soft and centrally one of England’s finest baritones, this cant be denied. The one solo featuring soprano Christiane Karg sat with the choir was a pleasant feature, praise indeed for her even it was the only time she sang. I’ll take or leave Brahms and this German Requiem may not always grab me, but I can’t deny the effort that was put in this and it execution bordered on the exemplary.

SoundState continues until the 3rd April.

SoundState | South Bank London

(4 / 5) Messiaen’s Quartet for the End of Time

(4 / 5) Montgeroult’s Etudes

French music filled the Royal Welsh over the past few days. In a concert entitled ‘Beauty in Darkness’ has at it’s focus the Quartet for the End of time by Olivier Messiaen, written whilst at a POW camp in Poland during WWII. The surreal nature of the piece stems from biblical protheses of the end of all things. Whilst the first part of the night had an unclear focus on composers effected by the Holocaust, these were unlisted pieces, which had a laid back and cheery feel to them.

The Messiaen quartet has such a strangeness about it, it’s hard not to be taken along. The oddball mix of instruments (violin, cello, clarinet and piano) proves the oddness though the effect on an audience since it’s first airing in the actual camp, can’t be underestimated. A devout Catholic, Messiaen saw hope through the darkness of his circumstances. A sparseness fills the work as the clarinet gets a resounding solo filled with bird song and staggering breath work. The cello has an unbearable and moving movement in the middle, the violin at the end reaching a similar sadness. The piano throughout is pounding, ethereal. It’s easy to underestimate the quartet but when sat there listening you feel the true power of Messiaen as a composer.

Violinist Bartosz Woroch has had the honour of performing once again, this piece where it first premiered. Here he leads, his love of the work always present. Fine musicianship.
On piano, Ayaka Shigeno battles the outrageous nature of her role, almost being the back bone of the work in a fierce display. I’ve heard Robert Plane play this piece with his clarinet a few times, he was replacing another ill musician. If anyone can truly do this part, it’s Plane who always dazzles. The rapt silence which fills his solo, the shrieks and sweet harmonies in other parts. WNO’s Rosie Bliss on cello makes her instrument weep more than usual, in an offering of such touching beauty. Few pieces in chamber music are truly as touching as this.

–

Composer Hélène de Montgeroult is a new discovery for me. With recent campaigns from Clare Hammond, new ears will get to hear more of a woman who lead a stimulating life. An aristocrat who fled France during The Great Terror, she would later be nearly executed were it not for her rousing variations on the French anthem. I’d like to think that story is true, you can already see the feature film on her life. With an army of students from the college, an array of her Etudes graced a small but eager afternoon audience. How utterly charming these pieces were. Somewhere between Mozart, Brahms and early other romantics with her own voice ringing through. There was a spiralling technique, with moments of humble resignation and a confidence in its music making.

The students did an impressive job of bringing these fluttery etudes to life. There may have been a misstep here and there, but the whole concert remained a delight. Looking back, I’d say the Etude no. 28 in E major stayed in the mind. The left hand notation for Etude no. 99 in E flat major for two pianos was another highlight. With the amount of musicians on stage, it went along swimmingly with the occasional adjustment to the piano stool as brief rest bites. Promising young musicians played in this and we all hope their time at the college is fruitful.

The real question remains why she has been forgotten to time? Is it sexism or politics? This remains an unjust crime which is in need of swift rectification. Consider me a proud convert.

Clare Hammond’s recording of Montgerolut’s Etudes with BIS Records is due for release in autumn 2022.