In a pretty meaty concert, RPOand Vasily Petremko offered up a blockbuster. A rarity from Galina Ustovlskaya, pupil of Shostakovich who had a fraught relationship with him. After the Soviets tightened up on expression in the arts, Ustovlskaya would be one of innumerable creatives told to change their radical ways. In The Dream of Stepan Razin, convention is frontal by literal gun point, in a folk fantasy with the serious Yuriy Yurchuk as baritone solo. This would prove how versatile a composer can be, even after previous experiments.

Benjamin Grosvenor joined for Beethoven’s Piano Concerto No. 1, I assume most of the audience were here for him. In this telling first offering Beethoven proves the piano’s early promise of a variable instrument, harsh and tender, lush and soaring. Grosvenor plays with grace, a resounding ease on the piano. Joyous movements meld with deeper, softer thoughts, as the piano often mirrors the orchestra. Petrenko, who always leads, is the most focused and sharing conductor you can watch today.

Shostakovich’s 10th Symphony came after Stalin’s death. Balancing the fine line between evoking his tyranny and celebrating his demise, Shostakovich had to be incredibly careful. It’s structure is bizarre, an movement order of slow-fast-slow-fast can feel uneven. The woodwind often shine with gurgling depictions, the composer’s own initials are baked into the score. Terror and mania also are an affront, the second movement a warped highlight. Always within its Russian sound world, this is one of Shostakovich’s best. It is Petrenko who makes it special.

(4 / 5)

Upon closer inspection, this concert looked intriguing. A puny title would see much love for Poland and the Czech Republic, in a dizzying programme. I know little of Grażyna Bacewicz, a female composer from Poland, her Overture from 1943 came the most turbulent time for the continent in the last century. A pressing snare and various actions are heard in the orchestra, less a sense of jubilance and more of the uncertainty of the time.

Bohuslav Martinů fled to America during the same conflict and continued to write alarming music of acclaim. With soloist Josef Špaček, his Violin Concerto is interesting for a few reasons. The sense of urgency in his work is lesser held here, the slow middle being less effective. Evocations of his native Czech homeland are frequently produced. The violin of Špaček is resounding, his model looks, firm musicianship and audience pleasing tendencies are what make him a star. He shone in the outer fast movements with finesse. An encore of Dvořák’s Humoresques is typical for the themes, if one piece I simply cannot stand. Yet with this fine violinist, I was easily won over by it.

My Polish plus one recalls Witold Lutosławski living over the road in Warsaw. With an extensive career, one of his last commissions saw one from the Los Angeles Philharmonic in 1993. His 4th Symphony is sparse and compelling work has room to inhale, as the strange orchestration leads with jolting dynamics and timbres. Ever an original voice, there might have been an influence of John Cage upon this brief symphonic work. It commanded the hall and Edward Gardner as conductor had a total grip over all. Myself and my plus one agreed it was the most interesting piece of the night.

A wrap up with Janáček’s Taras Bulba, based on the Gogal’s Cossack novella. Ever the Russian culture vulture, the Czech composer is a true one off. This odd piece has highlights for pipe organ and tubular bells, the strings and percussion also remain strong. Perplexing jumping rhythms aside traditional folk songs and absurdly dramatic attacks are Janáček’s forte. I personally don’t think this is his best work, yet it is a gateway to his brilliance. This inspired concert saw a variety of tones, colours and textures and paid off successfully.

Photo credit: Mark Allen

(3 / 5)

I’ll handle this review with care. In the first review of the year. A London stop off would see a highly stimulating crossover of cultures at the Barbican. The Theatre of Kiribati and the Britten Sinfonia defied borders and cultural barriers to present Sea Beanth the Skin/Song of the Earth.

The damnation of climate change has deeply impacted Kiribati, the island country profoundly. Polynesia has been under threat for years and recent political upheaval can only increase further tentions. This hefty cry is mirrored rather bizarrely with Mahler’s The Song of the Earth. The stage is tranfixed into a Samoan dwelling, through the aid of lighting, two pillars and other auras. We would hear this German language song cycle spread out over the near two hours, as chants and dances are interspersed.

Jarring would be one word to use here. Yet to see the spiritual offerings from countries so far away from our own was touching. Bone chilling moments came with shrieks, proclamations, fluttering gesticulation and lucid foot work. We wouldn’t be seeing these remarkable moments were it not for this collaboration, yet this is broadly two seperate events stitched together. The theme of nature never evaded Mahler (the words are settings of Chinese verse), this final masterpiece is often heavy as a standalone.

The songs feel very idle in this context, as if a Euorpean ignorance of the bigger picture. There is a wink to the late Robert Wilson, harsh lighting, slow lingering bodies and such. Lemi Ponifasio as director has chosen depth and atmosphere as the most telling markers and this is effective. The Britten Sinfonia appear muted behind the screen, at the back of the stage in their own lone isle. Conductor Nuno Coelho is strong with the reduced ensemble for these songs. Tenor Sean Panikkar get the drunk and lively numbers, with vocal delivery often sharp and ringing. Mezzo Fleur Barron has the bulk of the narrative songs, her delivery often perfumed and touching, with a command of stage presence. The final Farewell song is one of Mahler’s best moments. Rich in horn, winds, harp, celesta and tam-tam phases, it remains extremely impactful. Barron got the stage alone for herself for most of its demands, she caught the wistful acceptance of it all wonderfully.

Curious how this would end (it also was 30 minutes longer than billed), the circle was closed as The Theatre of Kiribati returned with final spiritual honouring’s with more dance, as the stagey sand poured on the floor earlier began to be spread around due to busy feet. Whale song and dreamy sleep would be the finale, as we gently blacked out and wrapped up.

Whilst flawed in principle, this fascinating show sees our small world can come together and perform, play and prove we are all alike. 

(5 / 5)

In what would be a stylish, yet understated Pavel Kolesnikov & Samson Tsoy both joined forces for a wonderous evening at Wigmore Hall. In a celebration of composers and their musician-wives, two halves would feature this dynamic though each of these two players brought unity and prowess abound.

Nearly a hundred years old, György Kurtág, would often play with his late wife Márta. Mostly his takes on Bach, though the Játékok collection is a remarkable set of over fifty years of compostition. Kolesnikov and Tsoy play with this particular intimacy (they are in a relationship), the take on Bach’s clever writing and rooted in its era, though highly contemporary in scope.

Genuinely touching moments featured and Kurtág additional conjuring also features humour, voclasie and a general joy of music making. There are a lot of German names of these pieces and most of the review would be taken up with them. The evocative and distilled music of Kurtág paired very well with the Bach. It is a collabortion which spans centuries and is most splendid indeed.

Dress in the haute couture, both pianist had the blocking down to a beat with their musical chairs system in the Kurtág. Back and for, sharing one piano or island apart. Messiaen’s Visions de l’Amen would end the night in astounding ways. Musical satellites orbit above, primordial grumblings and feverish violence all feature heavily. I’m still chewing in if both these lads got the balance right in moments, they appear rather nimble. Their playing is compelling: a tennis match made in heaven for this celestial work. Themes and melodies which are heard early on come back to asault the sences. First heard in occupied Paris in 1943, Visions had lost little of its ultimate power.

A graceful encore: I want to say it was Ravel’s glaisandi rich finale to Mother Goose was our parting gift for a very special night. 

(4 / 5)

Philharmonia are breaking out the party hats and having many slices of cake as they party their 80th year. With one of London’s leading orchestras, I would be hard stuck to think just how many of their gigs I’ve attended in the capitol and on tour. It was billed that Evgeny Kissin would be the soloist for this latest concert at the Southbank, in what would prove to be a blockbuster night of two pianos concertos and ballsy orchestra music all from Russia. 

A Night on the Bare Mountain (as named in the programme) is one of Mussorgsky’s finest and most well known orchestral pieces. Yet this arrangement by Rimsky-Korsakov is the only way I could ever listen to the work. Mussorgskys gradual decline into alcohol would leave much work in reduced piano form or incomplete at his death. Most famous for devilish outing in Disney’s Fantasia, this is highly regarded as a great Russian work, one that is is instantly recognisable. It’s thrill and total menace lie in its varying backstories and it often makes a fine concert opener.

With. No Kissin to be had, Boris Giltburg is another Russian offering which is pleasing to audiences and critics. I recall his Rachmaninov in Cardiff which went down a storm pre-pandemic. His jump off would be Prokofiev’s 3rd Piano Concerto as the first of two of the night. Whilst not a furious or experimental as the previous concerto, the third is still fun. The composer’s often harsh, stunning tone is here, Giltburg gets to play often sweeping melodies, as the orchestra was bouts of intrigue and delusion. I saw not the keys of the piano in the hall, yet seeing Giltburg often has the wow factor, the tenacity and tenderness are key elements to his craft. 

An all Rachmaninov second half saw The Rock as another orchestral spotlight. Not to be confused with his Isle of the Dead, this was standard fare, I would not say it gripped nor moved me in much of a way. This is early student days from him and it shows, the grandiose romantic adoration would come later in often deeply impactful ways. His 2nd Piano Concerto is known to British ears thanks to David Lean’s Brief Encounter, a classic that spans eras. With it’s heightened rhapsodic nature, mastery of pace, melody and emotional touch, its never boring. Giltburg really gets Rachmaninov, proven with many totalling, past performance. An unwavering presence on the piano, I doubt too many were irked Kissin was not playing tonight.  

(4 / 5)

Luciano Berio remains an intriguing composer. Inventions and experimental forms were his game, often creating outrageous, yet very human pieces.

With a concert from Ensemble 360, Claire Booth would join them for songs in a third occupied hall at the Royal Welsh. His Quattro canzoni popolari is much more traditional in nature, yet still alluring. The last flutter tongued song ‘Ballo’ get later recycled into his iconic Folk Songs, whilst the rest of the set is lovely for its charms. Rebecca Clarke and her Prelude, Allergro and Pastorale was new to me and a great find. Subtle discovers and a understated scope was the pallet for the three players and was impressive all round.

Ravel: I can take or leave, but his Chansons Madécasses is a fine work, one I’d wished to have heard sooner. Madacasgan lore is the basis, extreme romantics mingles with anti-colonial sentiments in a set of three powerful songs. Booth plumed with her French, got the sinews just right, for me this was a high note. Kokopeli by Hoover was an exquisite solo for Juliette Bausor on flute. An evocation of a mischievous spirit (not dissimilar to Pan), I was taken with these uncluttered few minutes, awesome in its intamacy and unfurling aura.

Suite Populaire Espagnole by de Falla saw a focused Tim Hortom on piano and a unbridled cello solo from Gemma Rosefield, saw colour and light from Spain. I recognised some of the patterning dance delights, the Avant-Garde mingles with the traditional spirit of Iberia. Never played enough, de Falla is often a joy. On viola, Rachel Roberts opened Berio’s Folk Songs with the exquiste American song ‘Black is the Colour’. 

Booth glided across the globe with many nations as tribute from France, Italy, Azerbaijan (this song has made up words) and more. Clarinetist Robert Plane, very well known to Cardiff crowds get brief moments of cheer here. Seeing him play again after many times is touching. These songs never wain in their complete delight, a gateway for those keen to discover Berio for themselves.  

(4 / 5)

I recall being highly impressed with the Kensington Symphony Orchestra, doing Peter Grimes a few years back at the Southbank. Speaking with people involved with the players, they spoke they were most, if not all amateur.

Heading to this Smith Square Hall gig, the sea-faring views would not settle. Doreen Carwithen is new to me, her Bishop Rock was note worthy. Vivid in its sight-specific vista, you felt the sea foam as well as calmer moments too. This along with the finale piece of the afternoon would be discoveries of women composers who might not have always gotten their due. Sir James MacMillion followed with a work which put him on the musical map: The Confrssion of Isobel Gowdie.

Conductor Russell Keable introduced it and gave insight to the Scotland’s awful history of witch hunting. Isobel Gowdie was one of many people convicted of witchcraft, she was tried, tortured, made to confess to nonsense accusations and then executed. This wreathed scenario would be the basis for MacMillion’s intense pallet.

Pounding, Stravinsky like chords, relentless dancing rhythms and an over all turbulent violence are what you discover. The orchestra had clearly rehearsed intently and they shone. Not shying away from such a subject rewards the listener with a very powerful composition, rightly giving him the reputation he has as a composer of great talent and innovation.

The end would come with Ruth Gipps and her 4th Symphony. Dedicated to Arthur Bliss, this symphony from 1972 would take years to get recognition. Like Bliss, there was a faithfulness to tonality, just some of the reasons both were shunned, as more experimental forms had become the status quo. Hearing it live, you get a feel for a serious love of the convention. I won’t say I was wowed by it, yet its formal feel still had drama, beauty and thrills. Again, the players gave it their all, in what is music from yet another female composer who needs more recognition. 

(4 / 5)

I’ve followed New Palace Opera for around a year. I was very taken with their Walküre chunks last year and a Peter Grimes both proved great efforts made put into challenging work.

In a wintery London, a concert in Waterloo would see agony and tragedy in equal measure. George Templeton Strong and his At Sunset got its UK premiere on this night. Heavily owing a lot to Mahler, its unease and pain was the vein of the whole thing. Effective, if it felt a little ropey to start with. Then Mahler would arrive properly with his Totenfeier, or Funeral-Rites. No one does the dreary and existential like old Gustav. The mood never shifted from the negative, I guess its name would suggest the tone. Stirring in nature, the players and a Jonathan Finney as maestro, held the drama of this fleeting passage.

The stand out would end with Stravinsky and his cantata Oedipus Rex. A first hearing for me and one I’ve wanted to hear for decades, this was evocative and a natural drama from the Greek source material. It being sing in Latin doesn’t take away either. We had a solem Sophie Duval as narrator guide us through what would be a difficult following even with the story well known. The entire work excudes a faithful Greek musical palette for its hour length.

James Schouten was cast very well as the titular character who’s downfall is his own doing through pride, ignorance and a general stupidity. Vocally, as a piercing tenor he melded well into the role, it was a pleasure to hear him live. In the strong male support, this Greek chorus saw figures come and go singing solos to strange effect. I saw few blips throughout this Oedpius. I also found Mae Heydorn as Jocasta, wife of Oedipus, to be a another highlight. A mezzo which had a grounding, yet was still compelling to the ear.

Well done to all involved in hearing this rare Stravinsky classic.

‘Where the dreamers still belong’: ‘Carducci Caravan’

Matt Denton – violin, Michelle Fleming – violin, Eoin Schmidt-Martin – viola, Emma Denton – cello

‘They are expecting you,’ I overheard Andrea Jones, the head of undergraduate studies at the Royal Welsh College of Music & Drama (RWCMD), say to a visitor ahead of the much anticipated ‘Carducci Caravan’ concert. An unexpected phrase to hear before a concert, one could say, considering that ticketed entry has been a hallmark of public performances since their emergence in the eighteenth century. Laughter, and enthused quiet chatting followed, as I turned to see groups of primary school children, orderly lined up, walking towards the stage doors. Many had never attended a world-class concert venue before, and this may have been their first time hearing a string quartet live. While the students would have been introduced to the fame of the Carducci Quartet by their teachers, the novelty of the experience itself, combined with their dream-centred view of the world, may have overshadowed the factual biographical details they had been told. To college students as much as to older visitors, the ‘internationally acclaimed’ and ‘award-winning’ Carducci Quartet needed no introduction. The young special guests were to be the sincerest critics of the night.

It was not long after the Carducci Quartet took the stage that the audience, who had been expecting a normative concert format with a series of pieces played in turn, realised they were in for a treat. ‘No borders bound, no paths confined, a world of music we will find… so come abroad – no need to pack – the Carducci Caravan won’t look back’, Bella Cerely, one of the four RWCMD actors who joined the quartet for the evening, announced to begin the concert. The reassurance offered by the opening poem, titled ‘Wanderer’s Melody’, was soon to be subverted by the Carducci’s innate theatricality. Playfully misguiding the audience through the fourth movement of Haydn’s Joke quartet, they repeatedly encouraged the belief that the movement had ended ahead of time, although the young guests were particularly good at not being tricked from the second time round!

Following the distinct, gypsy-influenced tone pallets of Bartók’s Six Romanian Folk Dances, Clarissa Mondeh read a translated poem by Tao Yuanming. Portraying how that which makes a place feel like home is not determined by environmental features, but is guided by the heart, the soaring lines of Puccini’s Crisantemi continued the narrative of the poem. Matt Denton’s poignant solo alluded to the intangibility of seeking for the out of reach, while the quartet’s remorseful ends of phrases reflected the narrator’s dissolving, ‘fleeting truths’.

The next piece in the programme – Huang Ruo’s The Flag Project: String Quartet No. 2 – introduced a soundscape so close yet so far away from the unanimous timbral quality which has long been attributed to the string quartet genre. As the Carducci’s took turns to welcome Tibetan finger-cymbals to the ensemble, the pure, sonorous and resonant timbre of the percussion instrument complemented both the penetrative high registers of the violins and the depth of Emma Denton’s rich harmonies. A sound world shaped by Ruo’s vivid imagination and the artistry of the quartet unfolded to captivate the audience.

With the ‘Carducci Caravan’ symbolising one’s journey through life, the invincible upheavals that toy against humanity were depicted through an account titled ‘Chaos instead of Music’ (Pravda, 1936). Condemning and denouncing Shostakovich for the nature of his music, Alex Johnson read how it was conceived as ‘a wilderness of musical chaos… that may end very badly’. Paradoxically, the Carducci’s sinister tone evoked through the preceding Four for tango by Piazzolla was alleviated for the beginning of Shostakovich’s Wrong Note Polka. Their shimmering fast vibrato infused buoyancy to the theme which was first stated plucked before its bowed reprise at the end the movement. With the closing of the piece delayed by an interspersion of dissonant chords, the programme continued with a shift in mood from anger to desolation as Rory Stroud narrated ‘The Dark Hills’ by Edwin Arlington Robinson.

‘Dark hills at evening in the west… fade – as if the last days were fading, and all wars were done’ was remarked before the opening harmonies of Elgar’s Nimrod filled the room with an apologetic depth of feeling. The quartet’s carefully crafted phrasing and frequent returns to stillness rendered the optimism of the rising passages short-lasting, mirroring the narrator’s enduring difficulty in comprehending man-made destruction. A final utterance of the thematic material, which was inspired by one of Elgar’s close friends, seamlessly led onto a recent partnership formed between the Carducci Quartet and 18-year-old composer Sam Snook. Winner of the 2025 Carducci Young Composers Competition, Sam’s Bloom furthered the emotional landscape of Elgar’s Nimrod as frequent tremolo passages united members of the quartet and strength was born from the movement’s sorrowful melodies. In the time span of a few minutes, musical, metaphorical, and literal synergies had been ignited between the past and the present.  

Having experienced feelings of reassurance, unease, heart ache, wonder, devastation and unity, ‘we end with fire, and full of light’ was exclaimed ahead of the quartet’s final piece. Composed by the Danish String Quartet, Shine you no more is inspired by John Dowland’s Flow my tears. Yet, it goes on to tell a story beyond that which the narrator of the song is capable of seeing. Contrasting to Dowland’s lament of intense sadness and misfortune, Shine you no more alludes to a detachment from the world’s unfathomable nature. Music guided the narrator to find brilliance and joy as the quartet’s palpable enthusiasm drew the concert to a close.

During the interval, audience members from all walks of life had gathered in the bustling RWCMD foyer, as champagne glasses adorned the circular tables and heads of departments hurried around to greet the many visitors from afar. While the young special guests were nowhere to be seen, it was assumed that the quartet were backstage preparing for the second half of their performance, as is customary at classical-music concerts. Little did many know that the Carducci Quartet had other plans for the interval. Moments after leaving the stage to place their instruments backstage, the quartet returned to the hall – this time off-stage – to meet, greet and thank their smiley, bright-eyed unexpected visitors. As the primary school children cheered and congratulated the quartet with a standing ovation at the end of the concert, it was clear that the Carducci Quartet had succeeded in inviting everyone present into their world. A world, as ‘The Lark’s Song’ by William Allingham noted during their performance, ‘where the dreamers still belong’.