(5 / 5)

In what might be the finest hour of music making have seen in London for some time, I was caught off guard with The Purcell School. These musicians are filled with the spirit of music making that is oh so needed in these desperate times.

Robert Saxton had a premiere with his Le Tombeau de Ravel. The French composer was the mainstay of the day, his 150th birthday a major cause of celebration. Saxton’s way with orchestration is curious, the sinew of melody and harmony always dissolving. The players handled the course material well. Saxton had worked with the next composer: Luciano Berio. Having his own 100th birthday bash, the School did one of Berio’s finest creations, the Folk Songs. Eleven female singers took up these wonderful arrangements, some of which are Berio’s own invention, others well established folk standards from the United States, France and Armenia. Every works as a total triumph, delight after delights is heard and felt thorough the clever arrangement. Perhaps most potent is ‘A la Femminisca’, a Sicilian call to church with metal coil, tam-tam and tubular bells.

What had wow factor was on violin Juila Majewska, with Phoebe Papandrea on piano. Ravel here channels Spain and Hungary with Pièce en Forme de Habanera and the famous Tzigane. I felt like was watching stars in the making, Majewska was an utter sensation on the violin, a second nature next to brilliance. Papandrea also proves to have a considerate chemistry, you feel they are friends. The feverish vitality of these works prove why Ravel is interesting and of note. There are many congratulations to be had here. Promise beyond promise.

To wrap up more Ravel in a four hand version of of La valse. Arranged by Ian Farrington, the waltz becomes an absurdly whirling terror that only seems to crescendo. The players Luca Newman and Stephanie Qiao impressed, their modesty at first diminished through violent playing in this four handed thrill ride.

A genuine joy to see young musicians play on this scale. 

(4 / 5)

In Ravel’s 150th birthday years lies the opportunity to hear much more of his music. Those bored of Bolero and are driven mad by Mother Goose, may find solace in concerts like this. Seong-Jin Cho was the winner of the First Prize ten years ago at the Chopin International Competition. He has truly made a name for himself as was proven by this busy concert at the Barbican.

To have done in one night the entirely of Ravel’s lifetime of piano work is no mean feat. The first set showcased early work including the delightful Jeux d’eau and the instantly recognisable Pavane pour une infante défunte. The rest here prove less interesting, you fell he finest quite master things until he goes on in his career. Seong-Jin is stimulating to watch play, performing entirely from memory. The talent of this pianist should never be doubted. His furious attacks and fluid patters are the utmost poetry. I think I could hear him breathing and panting at times.

What really sold his was the second set of Miroirs and Gaspard de la nuit. Ravel is alive her with total impressionism, expressive and bold playing for Seong-Jin who makes worms meat of the score. Great to hear Ravel in more experimental modes, as some moments would evoke Messiaen perhaps even Ligeti latter music. Birds and boats are the imagery, seascapes and night time musings. Gaspard de la nuit is also a treat for its impassioned state, its touching sweetness too.

The last set looked the longest and felt like it. Valse nobles et sentimentales was the bulk, impressive for its major pallet of dance and conventions. Further preludes are slight and passable. Le tombeau de Couperin, which he later orchestrated is another joy, evocative and some of his most essentially happy music, even out of the WW1 context. Through it all it was Seong-Jin’s determination and utmost respect for the material that rang through. His talents are plentiful, his endurance a standout.  

(4 / 5)

In the perfect setting for Messiaen, St George’s in Southwark proved a stunning evening for Britten Sinfonia. With no strings in sight, this wind ensemble would also feature brass and the famous percussion too.

Stravinsky’s Symphonies of Wind Instruments is often paired with Messiaen Et Exspecto. These delightful few minutes features shrill, bouncy moods followed by more sensual bars. The deep acoustic of the cathedral may not have faired well for this opener. The Choir of Merton College, Oxford followed in brief motets by Poulenc and Duruflé. These were the real deal, powerful stuff from these young singers. Poulenc’s Tristis est anima mea might have been the strongest, though all were truest declarations of faith.

Stravinsky’s Mass may prove why he didnt write much choral writing. Moments had promise and an experimental edge, yet it doesn’t quite take off.  Passages of Orthodox singing and strange murmurings were note worthy, the wind players getting the expectedly angular writing. Benjamin Nicholas shared the baton with Nicholas Daniel both driven with the fire of this music. Daniel, best know as an oboist have a lush solo for Messiaen’s Vocalise-étude. This is lovely in its mawkishness, brief moments of flower scents and an unbroken style that could on be Messiaen. The Choir return only now at the entrance to the cathedral with the continuing French composer’s O Sacrum Convivium. The music levitates in real time, its just so warm these singers sung it flawlessly in their last feature of the night.

In Et Exspecto Resurrectionem Mortuorum, Messiaen conjured a terrifying memorial to the dead of both World Wars. A stunning array of tubular bells, tam-tams, cowbells all feature heavily and shine. The loudness is considerable, though I think the larger tam-tams could have had the crescendos a little more stretched out. Even in Messiaen’s whole canon there is nothing this earthy or alarming. The silences between each movement are baked into the score, another powerful feat. The finale sees temple gongs played ad nauseam, as all players blast and scream through the horror. It’s quite an unforgettable feat.

Nicholas Daniel, who is now leaving the Britten Sinfonia. We will dearly miss him. 

(3 / 5)

I’ve said it often that a trip to London is never complete without seeing The Mozartists. I have savoured a supreme Jommelli discovery last year, a concert some two week before lockdown and an introduction to his Mozart’s First Symphony, one he wrote down the road.

Whilst they endeavour to (rather amazingly) perform every work by Mozart and feature a selection of his contemporaries, this endeavour is a monumental task. With the vast array of concert work come all the stage work too. La finta giardiniera is a much rarer beast from Herr Mozart, a much younger feat before his collabs with librettist de Ponti. I should be more enthused by this hardly ever sung piece. Translated as ‘The Fake Gardener’, in this concert format it doesn’t maintain its near three-hour runtime. I’m sad to say it left me mostly cold.

Dollops of humour, thanks to the libretto of Giuseppe Petrosellini. I can’t say I heard the words “shit”, “bint” and threats of cutting of a character’s testicles in an opera before. Even in the English translation. The story is as absurd as any of his other operas though nowhere near as compelling nor endearing. The Marchesa Violante is now disguised as Sandrina, a gardener. She has survived a knife attack from her last love the Count Belfiore, a year prior. The story since them…Arminda is now courting the Count and other characters find silly ways to screw with one another try to get the lovers they so desperately fight more. This may not sound like a comedy, yet it mostly is.

Ian Page as conductor is forever the supreme maestro. All these concerts and all his efforts are so humbling, so inspiring. He makes everyone at ease, bringing out the finest music possible. The orchestra themselves delighted and touched. We saw less of them due to the cast on stage, these players behind shone with vitality and a wispy delight. The cast were decent. I think Ava Dodd stood out as Sandrina, the serious bouts of her existence, melded with profound arias. Hugo Brady, who also thrilled in their Jommelli gig, is the dashing Count. I’m fond of his tenor, its gentle in execution, perfect for this era of opera. Milly Forrest as servant Serpetta got amusing scenes, a role which never really wraps up as it should. Vocally, it’s potent, something of electric air I groove to.

Arminda, giddy with her marriage to the Count, is here Camila Harris. Some smug moments of her luck in the story and sung big and bold as should be. A trouser role from Laura Fleur as Ramiro, a knight who loves Arminda. The spirt of the mezzo lives here, but this is such as secondary role and quite typical of the time. Fine in spirit, I just wonder if a character like this is holding Fleur back? The supporting men were Michael Bell as Il Podestà and Jerome Knox as Nardo. I wonder if these parts were truly right for the two. Roles which don’t play huge part in the plot, nor have much substance. In voice, I want to say more work might focus the timbre of both, though they did have some finer moments of wit and story setting.

Perhaps the elongated reuniting duet in the stunted third act from Sandrina and the Count sums up La finta giardiniera overall: touching and sugary, over long and at times lacking in depth. 

(4 / 5)

In what might be most curious venue discovery this year, the city would give up its secrets thanks to the Bristol Ensemble and a stirring gig at Bristol 1904 Arts. Located next door to The Red Lodge, with cute maze gardens and TGI Fridays wall décor saw art, instruments and other oddities scattered around the space.

This eccentric space was the set up for the concert. Hex 1 by Anna Meredith was the opener and a way to fill in the rest of the hour before the main Messiaen. Meredith wears many musical hats, I recall her score from A24’s Tuesday, a poor film, her offering the best thing about it. Written for violin and cello, there is an almost folk horror aura to its few minutes. Not as compelling as expected, though in the surroundings added atmospheres. The interplay between both insutments saw discordance and ethereal patterns. I’d like to listen agian.

Violinist Roger Hickle introduced both works, before the Quartet for the End of Time, he noted that the first players of this piece (Messiaen and other musicians in a POW camp in Poland), never played the work together again after its premier. The intense difficulty comes from its unabashed intensity, Catholic dogma melds with birdsong, in a work of hope and grace. Messiaen’s melody making is always evident, never going full hog into Avant-Garde trends. Any performance should move and thankfully this did here.

Hickle had the soaring finale solo, loving tributes to Jesus. On cello, Harriet Wiltshire tackled the famous solo also a dedication to Christ, though some grimaces proved how much hard work this can be. Done to emotional effect, it played off, Wiltshire played throughout with abandon. David Pagett on clarinet also had one of these many solos now with his very own movement all to himself. The avian friends clamour about, drone like ringing and affirmed, stomping bars to wrap up are all highlights. He played with serious determination and the silence after was also telling. Paul Israel who took on the role Messiaen did at the first concert, had the scuttling, proud, rhythmic bouts that demand the role. Israel followed with the others and for his own bursts fended finely through this chamber masterpiece. 

(3 / 5)

Returning to London would see Mozart heavy encounters. What would I discover this time round? Would I learn something new or find a new favourite piece?

The Akademie für Alte Musik Berlin presented a Mozart heavy bill though the rest was filled with new composer’s unknown to me. Georg Druschetzky and his Oboe Quartet in G minor was the first of these discoveries. Xenia Löffler as the solo had great range, though does this vintage instrument sound as if it can go out of tune every so often? A lovely opening, sweet and impassioned. Paul Wranitzky followed with his String Quartet in G, another stupendous find. I realise there are so many more music makers out there from the past. The players had a sharp focus, and all the joy of the piece rang forth. Melodies were this eras bread and butter, as well as gentle dynamics and hushed listenability.

With Mozart in his first outing, the Horn Quintet in E flat, Erwin Wieringa had holistic flashes. This true horn which he plays, has charm and some warm, though it can be so muted and almost unruly leading to not so harmonious blends. After the break, Mozart’s Oboe Quartet in F had frilly moments, not the most outstanding work he ever did. There was panache for this quarter, thanks to Löffler as a soloist of high regard. Perhaps the most stimulating Mozart of the night goes to the Adagio & Fugue in C minor. This quartet from Mayumi Hirasaki, Georg Kallweit, Clemens-Maria Nuszbaumer and Katharina Litschig deliver a loving feel for the Baroque and Classical and what surrounds it.

The wrap up was another find, that of Carl Stamktz’s Quintet in E flat. It is the vigour I savoured most here, swoops and plunges all in a conventional but still adrenaline inducing all the same. Musically it owes to Mozart, though still has enough originality to stand out. The encore of Mozart’s Musical Joke finale got laughs and smiles abound. Those, at few notes of sheer discord are shocking and have always been highly amusing.

Photo credit: Mark Allan

(4 / 5)

Barbara Hannigan is thriving at the London Symphony Orchestra. Her USP of both conductor and singer is a bold feat and might not always work. Though on a night like this thing were all set for greatness. A rare outing of Albert Roussel and Le festin de l’araignée – Symphonic Fragments would herald the start. Though perhaps more curiosity than compelling, these very French passages have gusto and some charm. Roussel who rarely gets outings in the standard repertoire, has to work hard to get heard. All the right moments are there yet something hasn’t quite made the cut. I’d like to hear more and this again.

In an arrangement by Anthony Girard, Ravel’s Histoires naturelle’s is a marvellous setting of the poetry of Jules Renard. These lovely settings of the mostly avians sort see jilted peacocks, a restless cricket, an existential swan a content kingfisher and of course, a disgruntled gujnea-fowl. As always with Ravel (and now Girad) there are buckets of charm, this really is tellingly delightfully verse. As well as the snazzy orchestration, baritone Stéphane Degout is a native French speaker and is also a great actor to boot. All these silly moments spent with these critters and flying creatures, vividly portrayed by Degout, who never over does his voice, it was smooth and very listenable.

What really sealed the deal was Hannigan doing what she does best: sing and also conduct at the very same time. I’ve had some reservations upon seeing her in the past, I recall an LSO gig in Bath of Messiaen and Mahler. Though her conducting might just be a little rigid, when she sings and continues to guide the orchestra with her back to them, things thrive. With the poetry of Rimbaud, this romantic upstart gets the Benjamin Britten treatment in what his one of his finer short concerts works. Extravagant poetry mingles with Hannagan’s soprano in scintillating form. The strings of the orchestra also shone, when Britten gets is right…the score seem to marvel at all sorts of lavish sights depicted in the poems of fantastical antiquity. It’s her acting which also pulls you in. I found myself in a state of amazement.

It’s been just over four months since hearing Haydn’s London Symphony again at the Barbican. With Hannigan at the helm, the almost monotonous repeat of the melody could wain elsewhere. It was tight throughout this Symphony 104; its elegance is matched by its sincerity. You can often see Haydn winking in good cheer, naturally. Pumping rhythms mingle with pressed slower bars, this is often digestible and wraps up a concert in fine taste and cheery fashion. Maybe this fine soprano maestro is warming on me?

(4 / 5)

I’m aware of orchestras doing their utmost to get the younger audiences into their events. This feeling was apparent when at this latest London Philharmonic Orchestra concert and I am all for it. This highly eccentric programme would appease both new audiences and diehard fans. Kevin John Edusei as maestro would throughout the night maintain these odd works with vigour and joy.

Frank Zappa did a fine job blurring the line between rock music and orchestra writing. In what might be the strangest, yet most splendid music I’ve heard at a gig for some time, his music stood out in many ways. Maybe it’s the surreal names: The Dog Breath Variations/Uncle Meat; Outrage at Valdez; G-Spot Tornao, or the odd rhythms and timbres…it’s hard not to like. The standout were the percussive forces and a lone banjo later what appeared to be acoustic guitar. Zappa creates orchestral creations that would have appeased the MTV listener (we are talking roughly that era), its muscle lying within its curious meters. I found many smiles and raised eyebrows throughout. Ripping good fun.

A European premiere with Dinuk Wijeratne with a new Clarinet Concerto. With soloist Kinan Azmeh, thing started off very Ives like, as he played off stage as the string ensemble disturbed with eerie natures, a lone string piano played by Azmeh also stood out. This was it for numbers, strictly not brass, woodwind nor percussion so there was a profound sense of intimacy. Azmeh impressed with sounds from far afield, the middle east and strange registers within the instrument. Heaps of discord and the lone clarinet getting soaring cadenzas, thanks to the wisdom and clarity of Azmeh. Though what felt like a classical structure, didn’t necessarily keep, it proved to be a stimulating premiere one of notes in recent months.

This slight evening would wrap up with Bohuslav Martinů. His Symphony No. 6 (Fantasies symphonies) proved highly alert and absorbing. Though the pacing may be erratic, Martinů knew how to compress the listener with anxiety inducing music, thanks to a incredibly clever handling of orchestration. The intense tightening grip would scarcely loosen over us, we remain at the mercy over this intense symphonic work, all the types of instruments played tutti though no one group out did the other. I was compelled by the grip the players had over the piece, a work not even 30 minutes in length though very demanding yet constantly regrouping. This proves Martinů should be heard be here much more. This is genius levels of creation.