Adventurous, virtuosic and highly expressive celebration of 15 years of the Canellakis-Brown Duo

Cellist Nicholas Canellakis and pianist-composer Michael Stephen Brown, met in their early twenties some fifteen years ago and have been performing as the Canellakis-Brown Duo ever since, as well as maintaining their separate solo careers. They clearly have a close friendship which has also stimulated compositions and arrangements  from both, a number of which receive première recordings here. 
 
First, let’s get the album title, ‘(b)romance’ out of the way. Now celebrating male friendship is no bad thing, but the term ‘bromance’ is unfortunately problematic for me. The implication is always that such a friendship between two presumably straight men needs a label, however tongue in cheek, lest we ‘misunderstand’. And just in case we are in any doubt, it is confirmed that Canellakis has a girlfriend, whilst Brown’s website informs us that he has two Steinways with female names (really?). Now there’s clearly a play on the term here, with reference to the numerous Romances for cello and piano amongst the eclectic and expressive repertoire, and their friendship and professional partnership of 15 years is worthy of celebration. But still…
 
Anyway, closeness of communication and warmth of connection are immediately evident in the Saint-Saëns Romance opener, with Canellakis in particular producing a glorious cantabile sound. Brown is equally expressive in the Romantic piano solo of the Romanze from Clara Schumann’s Piano Concerto, with Canellakis joining for the expressive, luxurious duet that emerges. Fauré’s Romance has a wonderful flow in the meandering, expressive cello melody, with Brown providing the necessary sense of motion from the piano. The rich, lower register opening from Canellakis is particularly striking here too. This is followed by Romance à GF, composed by Canellakis himself. He doesn’t clarify whether GF is his girlfriend, or the former composer’s initials, but regardless, it is an evocative piece, with the cello on long sustained piano notes of a rising scale emerging from the quiet mysterious piano opening. Once the melody gets going there is definitely a nod to Fauré here. Brown picks up the pace and intensity to support Canellakis’ outbursts, before it all dies away, leaving Canellakis at the heights of the fingerboard. Brown’s compositional offerings here include 35 Chords for Nick (a 35^th birthday present). The score (reproduced in the notes) indicates that the tempo, character and dynamics of the chords is up to the performer, and should be different every time – whilst setting down a recording obviously limits us to one version. But Canellakis’ mixture of spread chords, multiple stoppings, pizzicato and harmonics is engaging, and he again puts that richness of tone to great effect. There is also a Prelude and Dance from Brown, originally written as a solo cello piece for Canellakis, but with Brown adding the piano part later. The Prelude is an expressive, questioning conversation, in which the cello part’s repeated notes in particular get more insistent. The Dance that follows is wild and relentless, with most of the drive coming from the cello, with the piano adding complexity to the rhythms, before they swirl towards its frenzied conclusion.
 
The longest piece here is Sibelius’ dark Malinconia, and at just over 11 minutes in a programme of largely miniatures, it feels epic in proportions. Full of anguish, written in response to the death of the composer’s infant daughter, from the dark mysterious cello opening rising in anguish to the piano cascades, and then the folk-like cello lament over the piano’s rhythmic pulse, this certainly packs an emotional punch. As the intensity rises, Brown’s crashing piano is matched by Canellakis’ heart-wrenching full sound, followed by a quietly raging conclusion, making for a highly moving performance of this astonishing piece. Ginastera’s Pampeana No. 2follows this with the bell-like piano and extended dramatic cello flourish leading into a swirling dance and long passages of extreme expressive outbursts, then just when you think it’s almost over, there is a wild dance to finish, with both Canellakis & Brown showing their virtuosic prowess. 
 
Elsewhere, Canellakis makes the melody of Rachmaninov’s Lied sing alongside the relatively simple piano accompaniment, whilst Copland’s Poème, a contrastingly reflective piece, is given a peaceful, almost sensual reading. Debussy’s song Beau soir, here transcribed by Canellakis, is limpid and warm, with a beautifully controlled high ending from Canellakis. And Lukas Foss’ (1922-2009) Capriccio is full of American folksy melodies, galloping pace and train-like rhythmic energy, once again allowing both players to demonstrate their virtuosity. 
 
They end the disc playfully, first with 3 Preludes by Gershwin, arranged by Canellakis. The first is great fun, and the third is a joyful romp, whilst the central prelude is sultry, with a bluesy (if a little ‘clean’ here) second half. But they finish with a wild, virtuosic and crazy dance, Don Ellis’ (1934-1978) Bulgarian Bulge, originally for big band, in another Canellakis arrangement. Its 33/16 metre is fiendishly infectious, and Canellakis and Brown swirl and spin with sparkling energy to bring their programme to a glorious close. All in all, a great programme, performed with style, virtuosic command and expression – just a shame about that title!

Various. 2024. (b)romance. Nicholas Canellakis, Michael Stephen Brown. Compact Disc. First Hand Records. FHR134.

 
 

Smock Alley - Italian meets Irish in 18th century Dublin, with richly resonant performances from Irlandiani

I’m catching up on a few releases from First Hand Records from the last year. The first of these was prompted by also seeing the ensemble, Irlandiani, perform at this year’s Brighton Early Music Festival. Irlandiani were formed by cellist Carina Drury in 2020, and they describe themselves as a collective of historical and traditional instrumentalists who explore Italian and Irish musical connections in the 18^th century. So they were a great fit for this year’s BREMF, its theme being Connections. But first the disc. Titled Smock Alley, it focusses on Italian and Irish music with connections to the vibrant theatre scene in Dublin centred around the Smock Alley Theatre. 

 

A core of the recording is a set of Six Duos for Two Cellos, Op. 18 by Tommaso Giordani (1730-1806), performed here by Drury and fellow cellist Poppy Walshaw. Giordani moved to Dublin in around 1764, and worked as musical director at the Smock Alley Theatre. He briefly moved to London, where these duos were composed, but returned to Dublin for the rest of his life. The duets are light and graceful, and the deep tones of the two cellos combined create a warm soundworld. Each in two movements, the opening movements generally dance along, with singing lines, the two instruments chasing one another in thirds. When the second cello is given more supporting, accompanying rhythms, they are delivered here with delicacy, never laboured, despite the arpeggio movement. But it is in the faster, second movements where greater invention occurs. In Sonata No. 2, the Allegro (Tamborino) is an energetic romp, with instructions to hit the string with the bow, Drury and Walshaw delivering precise articulation as the music races along. Sontata No. 3 has a swinging Giga, and Sonata No. 6’s spiky Allegro bounces along playfully. Another Italian, Franceso Geminiani (1687-1762) is represented here. He also spent periods of time living in Dublin, including the last four years of his life. His Cello Sonata in A major, Op. 5, No. 1 receives a stylish performance from Walshaw here, with Drury supported by Nathaniel Mander on harpsichord for the continuo part. The opening movement has an expressive line, delicately ornamented by Walshaw, followed by impressive virtuosity in the Allegro that follows, with the harpsichord brightly jangling along. There’s more dramatic expression in the third movement, and the final Allegro contains moments of melodic interaction between the cello and harpsichord. Mander also gives us some solo pieces on the recording, with two of Domenico Scarlatti’s (1685-1757) Keyboard Sonatas, prefaced by a brief Introduction to Scarlatti’s Lessons by Thomas Roseingrave (1690/91-1766). Roseingrave was an organist in Dublin, but having dropped out of Trinity College Dublin, he was sent to Venice, where he met the Scarlatti family. He published an edition of Scarlatti’s Keyboard Sonatas, and that’s where the Introduction appeared. A graceful enough prelude, it is no match in terms of invention for Scarlatti’s rushing, rhythmic Sonata in G major, K13, or his fugally complex Sonata in G minor, K30. Mander is bright, energetic and precise in the former, and brings steady clarity to the latter. He also plays a very brief Prelude for Keyboard in A major, Op. 33 No. 11 by Giordani, playful but so short it flies by in a moment.

 

So, in contrast to the Italian fare, the disc is bookended with arrangements (by Drury and the ensemble) of traditional Irish tunes. Gallway’s Lament opens the disc, with the rich, resonant cellos joined by light percussion from John-Henry Baker. Baker switches to violone (or double bass viol) for Drury’s arrangement of Francis Hutcheson’s (1721-1784) To sleep. Hutcheson was an amateur composer, and wrote using the pseudonym ‘Frances Ireland’, and this three part glee works well with the three string instruments here, dancing along playfully in the rich, lower registers. At the other end of the disc come arrangements by the ensemble of Irish tunes Molly St George and The Rakes of Westmeath, both found in Burke Thumoth (c. 1717-1747)’s 12 Irish and 12 Scotch Airs with Variations of 1748. Thumoth was a musician, performing in London theatres, as well as performing a few times at the Smock Alley Theatre, but sadly died at the young age of 29. Molly St George’s mournful melodic line over droning and gentle pizzicato from the second cello and violone is rendered even more beautifully mournful in these lower registers, while The Rakes of Westmeath brings a sudden breath of fresh air with the dancing Irish flute, played by Eimear McGeown, with Baker providing percussion on the spoons and drum. And finally, the disc ends with Carina Drury’s own composition, Caoineadh, which draws on the Irish air Caoineath na dTri Muire. A distant, mournful lament is given a dark edge with shifting, thick chords and unexpected harmonic shifts from the cello and violone beneath Drury’s melodic cello line. A fascinating disc, exploring this unusual repertoire, and the Italian and Irish connections, as well as the different soundworld created by the lower, resonant instrumentation.

 

In concert at BREMF, the line-up was slightly different, with Aileen Henry’s delicate harp replacing the harpsichord, and guest, Irish fiddle player and singer Úna Palliser injecting another stylistic influence into proceedings. The Rakes of Westmeath, with Palliser on fiddle, had a different, yet equally engaging colour here, and this also returned as their encore. A few more traditional tunes made an appearance, and there was only space for a selection of the Giordani duos. Palliser’s keening vocals brought yet another element to their fascinating mix. A talented group of performers for sure – live, a few more upbeat numbers could lift the overall mood created by the lower, moody registers of the instruments, but that’s a minor quibble. Check out the disc, but also look out for them live if you can.

Various. 2023. Smock Alley. Irlandiani. Compact Disc. First Hand Records FHR144.

Gothic Opera brings powerful high drama to Donizetti in Battersea

Daniella Sicari (Maria)
© Craig Fuller

Lysanne van Overbeek (director)

Anna Castro Grinstein (conductor)

Leon Haxby (arranger)

Nate Gibson (set & costume designer)

Luca Panetta (lighting designer)

Gothic Opera

(Béatrice de Larragoïti, Alice Usher, Charlotte Osborn)

Daniella Sicari (Maria de Rudenz)

Theo Perry (Corrado di Waldorf)

James Beddoe (Enrico)

Harrison Gration (Rambaldo)

Alice Usher (Matilde)

Jamie Formoy (Chancellor)

Theo Perry (Corrado) & Daniella Sicari (Maria)
© Craig Fuller

7.30pm, Thursday 31 October 2024

Battersea Arts Centre, London

★★★★

Gaetano Donizetti (1797-1848): Maria de Rudenz

(libretto by Salvatore Cammarano (1801-1852)

'Being up close and personal to the singers made for a highly engaging performance; all performers excelled dramatically, drawing us into their heightened states of emotion'.

'Anna Castro Grinstein conducted the six-piece band in Leon Haxby’s lean arrangement with energy and precision'.

Alice Usher (Matilde) & Theo Perry (Corrado)
© Craig Fuller

'To her credit, director Lysanne van Overbeek plays it straight, which made the cumulative over-the-top dramatic crescendo all the more effective'.

'Soprano Daniella Sicari deserves the highest accolade for a stunningly powerful Maria, channelling true Gothic horror and steely control, with effortless coloratura throughout'. 

'This was a production that nonetheless packed a hefty punch, refreshingly immediate and engaging throughout'. 

Harrison Gration (Rambaldo) & Daniella Sicari (Maria)
© Craig Fuller

Read my full review on Bachtrack here.

Powerfully moving A Child of Our Time at Glyndebourne

Adam Hickox
© Glyndebourne Productions Ltd,
Photo: Richard Hubert Smith

Adam Hickox (conductor)

Ian Rutherford (director)

Matthew Fletcher (music preparation)

Nardus Williams (soprano)

Beth Taylor (mezzo-soprano)

Kieran Carrel (tenor)

Michael Mofidian (bass)

The Glydnebourne Sinfonia 

Richard Milone (leader)

The Glyndebourne Chorus

Aidan Oliver (chorus director)

4pm, Tuesday 29 October 2024

Glyndebourne Opera House, Glyndebourne

★★★★

Ludwig van Beethoven (1770-1827): Symphony No. 4 in B flat major, Op. 60

Sir Michael Tippett (1905-1988): A Child of Our Time

Soloists, Glyndebourne Chorus & Sinfonia
© Glyndebourne Productions Ltd,
Photo: Richard Hubert Smith

Beethoven:

'There was some impressively deft work from the strings in the outer movements'.

Tippett:

'Simple lighting effects and a few striking image projections added a welcome extra dimension without being overly distracting'.

'The Five Spirituals ... were delivered with full-bodied tone and moving passion, with the solo input from the front of the stage balanced well'. 

'Hickox gave the Glyndebourne Sinfonia and combined vocal forces clear direction throughout and managed the challenge of balance, particularly for players more used to being in the pit'. 

'The soloists and chorus combined brought this memorable and powerful performance to a deeply moving conclusion'. 

Read my full review on Bachtrack here.

A great showcase for the Jervaulx Singers and Charlie Gower-Smith, combining strong solo voices in choral textures

The Jervaulx Singers (named after the ruined Jervaulx Abbey in North Yorkshire) were founded by Director Charlie Gower-Smith and soprano Jenny Bianco in 2021. They describe themselves as a professional soloists choir, and on their first recording, they comprise just eight voices. On this disc, they tackle predominantly contemporary choral works, although some solo song, and a finale from Bernstein’s Candide are also included, as well as a solo piano piece performed by pianist Alison Frances Gill. The sound is fulsome, as one would expect from professionally trained voices, and although their intention is to give singers space for ‘each individual’s own sound’, they still create a suitably blended overall ensemble when needed. As a result, the sound is refreshingly bright, particularly in the sweeter repertoire.

 

They open with a traditional Norwegian song, Ingen Vinner Frem Til Den Evige Ro, arranged by Norwegian composer Ola Gjeilo (b.1978), now living in the US. That bright, clear ensemble is immediately evident, and the rich basses emerge through the flowing folk lines. The balance of the tenors leading in the third verse over the more choral textures below is also well judged. Lithuanian Onutė Narbutautė (b.1956) is a composer new to me, and her Vasara (Summer) definitely intrigues me to hear more. It opens with a cuckoo call, and makes use of vocalisations of bird calls throughout, rather reminiscent of Janequin’s Le Chant des Oiseaux from some 500 years previous. Aside from the bird sounds, playful flowing rhythms evoke the two young lovers running barefoot through nature. Pianist Alison Frances Gill joins the choir for Lili Boulanger’s (1893-1918) Hymne au Soleil next. Setting an atmospheric text describing Brahmins worshipping the rising sun, Boulanger contrasts bright, homophonic choral treatment of the text initially with more polyphonic entries to evoke seven rushing steeds. There’s plenty of word painting, with high chords for ‘il se lève, il s’élance’(it rises, it soars), and there are also delicate choral echoes alongside a rich solo from mezzo soprano Sarah Anne Champion, before the declamatory style of the opening returns, the combined singers here delivering a powerful climax.

 

To calm things down, Alison Frances Gill treats us next to one of Rachmaninov’s (1873-1943) 12 Romances, op. 21, namely No. 5, Lilacs. The rippling, flowing textures are given a watery lightness of touch, and Gill effortlessly delivers the final cascade with a flourish. 

 

Morten Lauridsen’s (b.1943) Les chansons des roses, which gives this album its title, is a popular favourite of choirs, with its contrasting tempos and styles across five short movements. Here, they take the opening En une seule fleur at a rapid tempo, making it dance along, staying just the right side of not garbling the French text, although their proficient precision is in danger of making it feel a little throwaway here. For Contre qui, rose, Lauridsen is in the familiar territory of his most famous piece, O magnum mysterium, and it receives a suitably tender reading here, with pure sopranos and rich basses. De ton rêve trop plein contains the most variety, with sparky, snatched faster sections against slower, sweeter passages, and the singers capture the folksy feeling well here, with excitement in the contrasts of tempo and dynamics. For La rose complète, we’re back to O magnum mysterium (Lauridsen does definitely have some trademark chord progressions!), and Gower-Smith shapes the slow build here with considerable tenderness, with a lightness and transparency here to the overall sound from the singers. The piano joins for the final song, Dirait-on, a pretty song that borders on the cheesy, but is saved by clever canons and increasing complexity of texture. The sopranos in particular produce a rich sound here, and there is a successful build overall, before a well-controlled quiet ending. 

 

To break up the choral textures, next comes a performance of the final song, Fleurs, from Poulenc’s song cycle Fiançailles pour rire. Mezzo soprano Beth Moxon gives a tender rendition here, with Gill providing gentle pulsing piano chords in the background, and the return of the first verse is particularly delicate and touching. 

 

Jonathan Dove’s (b.1959) The Passing of the Year  was composed in memory of his mother, and sets texts by Blake, Dickinson and Tennyson, amongst others. It launches in with minimalist rapid motion in Invocation, with slow lines on top, and the piano driving the rhythm, and it all builds to a glorious final chord. The singers are in their element here, really being able to expand their sound and create extremes of contrast, and in The narrow bud, their lines fall over one another with great energy over the bell-like piano, before the sopranos positively soar for ‘the spirits of the air’. Answer July has a train-like insistence in its playful rhythmic insistence, leading to its triumphant ending. The singers capture the breathy, muggy oppressiveness of Hot sun, cool fire, with its thick, complex textures, and the lyrical tenors lead in Ah, Sun-flower!, with the upper then lower voices cascading around them. Adieu! Farewell earth’s bliss! is tender and haunting, with the singers again drawing out the contrast between the plaintive ‘I am sick, I must die’ and the anger of the middle verse. Then the cycle concludes with Ring out, wild bells, the ‘O Earth’ chant returning from the opening movement, crashing into the circling piano. Entries ring out, and once again, Dove is the master of choral contrasts, with ominous unison for ‘let him die’, against defiant ‘grief’. The singers build to a glorious sound, letting their powerful combined voices bring this exciting work to a glowing conclusion.

 

And then for something different to finish – the finale, Make Our Garden Grow, from Bernstein’s (1918-1990) Candide. Here, tenor Gareth Meirion Edmunds opens with a strong, open-hearted Candide, to which soprano Eleanor Garside responds with bright tenderness as Cunegonde. The company expands to seven solo voices, before building to the full-throttled finale. Inevitably, the piano can’t quite compete here, but the operatic scale of the singing is very powerful. 

 

All in all, this is a great showcase for a fine group of singers, and shows that it is possible to effectively blend high-calibre solo singing in choral textures.  

Various. 2024. Les chanson des roses. Jervaulx Singers, Charlie Gower-Smith. Compact Disc. Convivium Records CR101.

Joyful Glazunov and deeply moving Górecki from the Brighton Philharmonic Orchestra and Alpesh Chauhan

Alpesh Chauhan
© Marcello Orselli

Jess Gillam (saxophone)

Ruby Hughes (soprano)

Brighton Philharmonic Orchestra

Alpesh Chauhan (conductor)

2.45pm, Sunday 13 October 2024

Dome Concert Hall, Brighton

★★★★

Jean Sibelius (1865-1957): Finlandia, Op. 26

Alexander Glazunov (1865-1936): Concerto for Alto Saxophone and String Orchestra in E flat major, Op. 109

Encore:

Rune Tonsgaard Sørensen (b.1983): Shine You No More (arr. for saxophone and string orchestra)

Henryk Górecki (1933-2010): Symphony No. 3, Op. 36, 'Symphony of Sorrowful Songs'

After a strong opener to their 100^th season, the Brighton Philharmonic Orchestra were back with another imaginative and stimulating programme. Sibelius’ popular Finlandia was perhaps not a huge departure as an opener, but Glazunov’s Saxophone Concerto to follow, with the wonderful Jess Gillam as soloist, was a treat, as was Górecki’s searingly beautiful Symphony of Sorrowful Songs. 

 

Sibelius’ Finlandia was given a rich, expansive reading here, with incisive energy from visiting conductor Alpesh Chauhan. The string sound was full, and Chauhan shaped the music’s sweeping waves with command. Whilst the opening brass onset was a little unsure, the brass then gave us appropriate weight and a broad but bright sound, and the woodwind chorale moments were well-balanced. Chauhan built to a suitably triumphant finish, making for a strong opening statement. 

Jess Gillam
© Robin Clewley

Jess Gillam then gave us a joyous rendition of Glazunov’s short but sweet Concerto for Alto Saxophone, Op. 109, written in 1934 for Sigurd Raschèr. With just strings accompanying the soloist, they opened in secure unison, before Gillam entered with lyrical, smooth lines. Chauhan mostly controlled the dynamic balance well, allowing Gillam leeway for some highly sensitive pianissimos too. Then Gillam picked up the pace with playful rapid runs leading into the faster section. Yet even in the fast, virtuosic sections, Gillam always maintained a pure tone, particularly gentle at the top. Layered string textures built to the cadenza, with again some very sensitive, quiet playing from Gillam. Then she set the fugue off at a healthy pace, followed by tight playing from the strings as each section joined in. Rapid articulation from Gillam built to highly virtuosic finish.

 

For an encore, Gillam returned with the soprano saxophone to play an arrangement with orchestra of Rune Tonsgaard Sørensen’s Shine You No More. Sørensen is a member of the Danish String Quartet, and this piece has become a popular encore piece for a variety of soloists – I last heard it from violinist Thomas Gould at the 2023 Proms. It is great fun with an opening reel for the soloist, throbbing rhythmic strings, and following a quieter, mournful central section, it dances away to a showstopping finish. Gillam dazzled with fluid virtuosity, and the strings, with a sprightly solo from leader Nicky Sweeney, gave spirited support.

 

Ruby Hughes
© Thomas Dashuber

Górecki’s Symphony No. 3, Symphony of Sorrowful Songs, Op. 36, was composed 1976, but really hit the big time in 1992 when the London Sinfonietta’s recording with Dawn Upshaw was championed on newly established Classic FM. After that, it has received steady airplay, and has been used in film and TV, with English National Opera giving a powerful staged production last year, but concert performances are surprisingly relatively rare. Its lengthy first movement is longer than the other two movements combined, with its extensive eight part canon for strings leading to a central 15^th century song, a lament of the Virgin Mary, before the canon then unwinds itself in reverse order. Three of the BPO double basses set the canon in motion, a little muddily to begin with, but confidence built, and Chauhan maintained a steady intensity as each string part was added, bringing out the moments of movement within the slow, steady lines. Then soprano Ruby Hughes stood, her voice slowly rising out of the textures, initially quiet, but increasingly pleading in tone. A real mother’s lament, she and the orchestra built to a climax before the full strings then took over their canon in reverse motion, working their way back to the double basses. Chauhan held a lengthy silence in the air, before commencing the glassy, almost sunlit opening of the second movement. Hughes entered quietly, low in her register, with the rising and falling scales achingly painful – this movement’s text is taken from an inscription on a Nazi prison cell in Zakopane, Poland, including a short prayer signed by an 18 year old girl, Helena Wanda Błażusiakówna, again a lament to her mother and the Virgin Mary. Exquisitely controlled pianissimo from Hughes at the end of the prayer, followed by a darkly intoned Ave Maria brought the movement to its intense conclusion. Undulating strings at the start of the finale were then joined by Hughes with doubled flutes, singing the third text, again a lament, this time a mother over her dead son. One or two of the transitions in this movement, where Górecki suddenly stops and shifts the harmony, could have been cleaner, but Chauhan otherwise shaped the dynamic swells well, and the BPO strings showed great stamina of concentration in the long, pulsing passages. After the almost naïve joy of the Glazunov in the first half, the intense sadness of the Górecki was a striking, almost shocking contrast, and Hughes, Chauhan and the BPO gave us a highly emotional and meditative end to the afternoon’s concert. Once again, the BPO are continuing to surprise us with the increasing depth and variety of their playing and programming – next up, The Madness/Lightness of Being, with cinematic music including Herrmann, Schnittke and Piazolla (Saturday 16 November, Brighton Dome). 

Jess Gillam, Alpesh Chauhan
& the Brighton Philharmonic Orchestra
© Nick Boston

Ruby Hughes, Alpesh Chauhan
& the Brighton Philharmonic Orchestra
© Nick Boston

The Madrigal Reimagined - effortless virtuosity and informative expertise from the Monteverdi String Band and friends

Oliver Webber, Director of the Monteverdi String Band has been a frequent visitor to Brighton Early Music Festival, in particular bringing the band to several early opera productions at the festival. Both soprano Hannah Ely and lutenist Toby Carr are also familiar to us in Brighton. Ely is artistic director of the Fieri Consort, and regularly sings with Musica Secreta and Collegium Vocale Gent, amongst others. Toby Carr performs with many early music ensembles, including Ensemble Augelletti and Ceruleo, as well as performing as a soloist and continuo player, recently recording an award winning album with Helen Charlston. Webber’s last recording focussed on virtuosic violin ornamentation in the early Italian Baroque (read my review here), and for his latest disc, he and the band are joined by Ely and Carr for an exploration of the madrigal, and how it was reinvented and transformed from a purely vocal setting into works for solo voice with accompaniment, and into instrumental works. Alongside this is the part that virtuosic ornamentation, both vocal and instrumental, had to play in pushing the boundaries of the form. 

The Madrigal Reimagined is a fascinating programme of vocal, solo instrumental and ensemble pieces from the late sixteenth century, ending with a demonstration of how the madrigal form and style fed into early opera, in a brief selection of highlights from Monteverdi’s L’Orfeo. Ely delivers the Prologue and two key arias (Ahi caso acerbo and Ma io ch’in questa lingua) with clarity and drama, capturing the intensity of the emotion in this chamber rendition. The string Sinfonias are suitably plaintive, emphasised in the rich yet mournful lower registers, yet Vanne Orfeo, with its bright, falling soprano lines, and the cheerful, spirited dance bring the disc to a nonetheless cheerful conclusion.

 

But before that, we have the delights of Rore, Caccini, Cavaliere and Malvezzi, amongst others. Cipriano de Rore’s (c.1515-1565) Anchor che col partire is heard first in a lute transcription, with Toby Carr bringing out its doleful delicacy, and managing to make the melodic lines sing. Then Carr is joined by Ely, who brings an aching beauty to the vocal line, with effortless diminutions (ornamentation consisting of breaking the melodic line into groups of shorter, often rapid notes), written by Giovanni Battista Bovicelli (1545-1618). Vergine bella and Ben qui si mostra il ciel by Rore have the solo line given over to the violin, with Webber providing the diminutions (along with diminutions by Orazio Bassani (bef.1570-1619) for the former). Webber’s bird-like violin, athletic yet effortless, skitters and meanders over the delicately plucked lute. The final piece by Rore included here, Hor che’l ciel et la terra, also has diminutions by Webber, but this time Ely has the solo line, brightly delivered over rich string textures, with ornamentation in all parts. 

 

There is a sequence of pieces from the famous 1589 Florentine Intermedii, lavish wedding celebrations for Ferdinando de’ Medici and Christine of Lorraine, with their famed extreme special effects. Cristofano Malvezzi’s (1547-1549) Sinfonia a 6, takes us into La Regione dei Demoni (the realm of demons) with its rich, complex string textures, before Giulio Caccini (c.1650-1618) takes us up into the heavens with Io che dal ciel, Ely delivering startlingly shimmering ornamentation here. This segment ends with O che nuovo miracolo by Emilio de’ Cavaliere (c.1550-1602), which dances along with instrumental fizz, the rapid ornamentation adding to the sense of celebration.

 

There’s more from Monteverdi, with extracts from his Il ballo dell'ingrate, the stately Entrata and swinging Ballo followed by Ah dolente partita, with Ely’s highly expressive falling soprano lines echoed in the violin, here played by Theresa Caudle. Ely’s bell-like high notes cry out, then there’s a swap into her lower vocal register, with Caudle taking over above. Ahi, troppo è duro follows, with dramatic expression and doleful falling lines.

 

There’s a solemn Canzon by Giovanni Gabrieli (c.1554/1557-1612) from the strings which dances along nicely, the disc opens with Canzon decimottava by Claudio Merulo (1533-1604), brightly paced with clear textures, and Carr also gives us a beautifully sad Preludium from Lorenzo Tracetti (1555-1590). Cruda Amarilli appears first in a setting by Johann Nauwach (1595-1630), Ely’s pure, expressive line gently accompanied by Carr on the theorbo. Ely’s ornamentation here is especially nimble, with humming repititions and fluid runs, and it is then followed by Monteverdi’s more familiar setting, here given over to the plaintive strings. And Giovanni Perluigi da Palestrina (1525-1594) is represented here in Vestiva i colli, with ornamentation shared between the soprano and bass violin in an unusual and delightful dialogue. 

 

With expertly informative notes from Webber, this disc combines these musicians’ clearly expert research and knowledge of this repertoire with virtuosic command of the technical demands of such ornamented performance, making for a highly stimulating and impressive collection. 

Various. 2024. The Madrigal Reimagined. Hannah Ely, Toby Carr, Monteverdi String Band, Oliver Webber. Compact Disc. Resonus Classics RES10341.

Exciting Stravinsky and powerful Tchaikovsky to kick off Brighton Philharmonic Orchestra's 100th season

Aidan Mikdad, Joanna MacGregor
& the Brighton Philharmonic Orchestra
© Fernando Manoso-Borgas

Aidan Mikdad (piano)

Brighton Philharmonic Orchestra

Joanna MacGregor (conductor)

2.45pm, Sunday 22 September 2024

Dome Concert Hall, Brighton

★★★

Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky (1840-1893): Piano Concerto Nol 1 in B flat major, Op. 23

Encore:

Franz Liszt (1811-1886): Liebestraüme, S451, No. 3 in A flat major

Igor Stravinsky (1882-1971): Le Sacre du printemps (The Rite of Spring)

Conductor Joanna MacGregor and Brighton Philharmonia Orchestra kicked off their 100^th season with an afternoon of barnstorming greats of the repertoire. They opened with Tchaikovsky’s ever-popular Piano Concerto No. 1, with Dutch pianist (and former pupil of MacGregor’s at the RAM), Aidan Mikdad at the keyboard. But when their ambitious 100^th season programme was first published, the big question was, could they pull off Stravinsky’s The Rite of Spring, notoriously challenging, and requiring greater forces than are usually assembled by the BPO on the Brighton Dome stage. And it's not just size – The Rite of Spring calls for instrumentation at the far ends of most of the woodwind and brass sections – Wagner tubas, bass clarinets, alto flute, bass trumpet and trombone at the low end, and high E-flat and D clarinets at the top. The virtuosity required of the players is significant, with solos shared around most of the orchestra at one point or another. Were they up to the challenge?

 

Joanna MacGregor conducting the
Brighton Philharmonic Orchestra
© Fernando Manoso-Borgas

But first the Tchaikovsky. After a slightly nervy horn opening, a rich string sound soon took over, and Mikdad immediately responded with weighty, full chords. Things took off at a lilting pace, then Mikdad injected greater pace and energy with the folk melody that follows. The strings sounded particularly warm, not always matched in tone by the drier woodwind sound, however. Mikdad’s cadenza cross rhythms and subsequent trills against the returning tune were commandingly secure and confident. Although the following orchestral pickup was not totally secure, MacGregor and Mikdad nonetheless built to an impressively strong finish. The pianissimo pizzicato strings at the opening of the second movement slowly quietened the enthusiastic audience, and retiring Principal Flute, Christine Messiter delivered the melody with tender lightness. MacGregor did well to keep the strings at bay when the piano entered proceedings, although later, the orchestra and offbeat piano got momentarily out of kilter with each other. The Finale had great energy and enthusiasm, with some thundering octave runs from Mikdad. The orchestral surges could have taken more contrast, and once again here, timing was once or twice a slight issue, but Mikdad’s show of excellence was impressive, and the conclusion was suitably exciting. He then treated the eager audience to a technically assured rendition of Liszt’s Liebestraum No. 3 to conclude his contribution to the afternoon’s programme, although it was pleasing to note that he joined the audience for the second half.

 

Joanna MacGregor
& the Brighton Philharmonic Orchestra
© Fernando Manoso-Borgas

And then to the Stravinsky. Principal Bassoon Jonathan Price led things off with a fine delivery of the twisted, high introduction, leading into birdcalls from each woodwind instrument in turn. This signalled what was to be a secure performance from all, and MacGregor and the players certainly rose to the challenges set by Stravinsky. MacGregor’s guidance through the complex rhythms was clear, and only very occasionally did the orchestral rhythms not gel perfectly. They produced a suitably huge sound when required at the various ritual sections, and the final Sacrifical Dance had stabbing, scary energy. The thrashing string chords in The Augurs of Spring needed greater violence and malevolence, and there could have been a greater sense of the edge of chaos and riot, and there was occasionally a sense that they needed to keep everything under control. However, MacGregor and the BPO did pull it off with an exciting performance, once again demonstrating their continued growth and development as they push the boundaries of their expected repertoire. If this was ambitious for the BPO, wait for later in the season, and in particular, their Centenary Gala on 13 April 2025 – Messaien’s mighty Turangalîla Symphony. On today’s evidence, this will certainly be something to watch out for. 

 

Programme

Josquin des Prez (c.1450–1521) - Kyrie from Missa Pange lingua 

Thomas Tallis (c.1505-1585) - In manus tuas 

William Byrd (1539/40–1623) - Haec dies 

Robert Parsons (c.1535-1572) - Ave Maria 

Giovanni Palestrina (c.1525-1594) - Sicut cervus 

Tomás Luis de Victoria( c.1548-1611) - O quam gloriosum 

More details here.

From the Celestial Hills - The University of Glasgow Chapel Choir perform a fascinating range of sacred Scottish choral repertoire from across five centuries

The University of Glasgow Chapel Choir was reestablished in the 1950s, but choral singing at the university goes back centuries. The choir have recorded a fascinating collection of sacred Scottish choral works, much of it little known, including a number of first commercial recordings of recent works. The title of the album, From the Celestial Hills, comes from their opening track, Abbeville. Composed by Elisha James King (1821-1844), it had an alto line added later, and has been arranged here by the Director of Chapel Music and conductor of the choir, Dr Katy Lavinia Cooper. The choir immediately demonstrate their secure and full sound, with bright sopranos on the long lines of this strong opener. This is immediately followed by a bouncing seventeenth-century carol, Ecce Novum Gaudium, arranged by Kenneth Elliot (1929-2011) a former lecturer at the university. The choir show themselves to be adept in the smooth plainchant of Arora Rutilat, which also features a fine solo from soprano Eve Harling, and in Sheena Phillips’ (b.1958) arrangement, the harmonies grow more complex, without detracting from the purity of the original line. What, Heard Ye Not? was composed by Frederick Rimmer (1914-1998), who was responsible for reestablishing the choir, and sets an old English carol. Angular sopranos are set against the organ (played here as on other tracks by Dr Kevin Bowyer (b.1961)), with other voices joining, all delivering the text with precise diction. There are only moments of imitative ends of line, the upper and lower voices remaining mostly in unison with striking interjections from the organ. Other highlights here include Katy Lavinia Cooper’s (b.1979) own Like a Lost God, beginning with lower voices over a kind of drone from upper voices, then roles are switched. Two solo sopranos (Eve Harling again, with Sophie Boyd) intertwine beautifully as the choral textures build up. James MacMillan (b.1959) of course had to be represented here, and his strikingly effective For a Thousand Years, with its murmuring repetition and constant movement from unison through clashing seconds to complex crunchy chords and back again, building to a glorious climax, then a dying ending. The singers confidently manage the challenges here, and Cooper shapes the dynamic trajectory well. Jumping back more than five centuries, The Sang of the Thrie Childrein by John Angus (fl.1543-1595) is a spirited hymn, setting verses from the Benedicite. It has great energy, and Cooper and the choir inject effective dynamic variety across the verses. Here and elsewhere it would be nice to have seen the texts – the singers’ diction is exemplary throughout, but the text here is a little trickier! Martin Dalby’s (1942-2018) Et Resurrexit is the most substantial work here, some six and a half minutes long, and begins and ends with quiet organ. The choir, particularly the sopranos manage their sudden entries and edgy, short rhythmic phrases well, as well as smoothly blended sound on the longer lines. In contrast, Rory Boyle’s (b.1951) O Sacrum Convivium is a mostly close syllabic setting, with crunchy harmonies and a mood of mystery, which the singers convey successfully here. There are lots of other gems to be discovered here, but the disc ends with a sweet and gently lilting setting of Ave Regina Caelorum by Kenneth Tay (b.1992), also a bass in the choir. It builds pleasingly to allow the choir to produce a full sound, and the tenors deserve particular mention for their poise at the end. This is a fascinating collection, demonstrating the choir’s clear command across a variety of repertoire, and there are many works here that other choirs may wish to investigate. 

Various. 2024. From the Celestial Hills, Sacred Scottish Choral Works. University of Glasgow Chapel Choir, Dr Kevin Bowyer, Dr Katy Lavinia Cooper. Compact Disc. Convivium Records CR088.

The University of Glasgow Chapel Choir