Power as well as delicacy from Douglas in Volume 7 of his Schubert series

Pianist Barry Douglas’ seventh volume of Schubert’s Solo Piano Works came out in November, and this continues to be a highly noteworthy survey. He’s been taking his time – the first volume was released in 2014. This does allow us (and presumably Douglas) to focus more on the current volume’s works in isolation, rather than trying to assess the recordings en masse. Previous volumes have shown Douglas’ approach to be weightier than some, emphasising the forward-looking Romanticism in Schubert’s works, rather than lighter, Classical elements. But that’s a generalisation of course – Douglas can be delicate too, as in the gentle opening to the Sonata in E flat major, D568, and in that opening movement’s subsiding coda. But in between, there is bounce and pace, yet the throbbing chords in the development are never too weighty, everything kept in proportion. Similarly, the slow movement builds from its simple, plaintive opening, with weight and passion growing, yet never overly dramatic. Douglas gives a stop-start kick to the Minuet, with jaunty dotted rhythms in the Trio. That sense of dance is carried forward into the finale, where Schubert’s flow of ideas is at its most inventive, and Douglas certainly conveys that sense of effortless outpouring of material. In the Sonata in G major, D894, Douglas’ full-on approach comes more to the fore, with heft and dramatically crashing chords in the mammoth opening movement. Throughout this movement, there is a constant contrast between those fiery chords and a kind of lilting dance, and Douglas emphasises the extremes of this contrast. This element of contrast continues into the second movement, with a gently lyrical slow waltz followed by a weightier, dramatic second section, with more crashes from the extremes of the keyboard. There’s more drama in the Minuet, with forward drive from Douglas in the grace notes, yet the folksy Trio is given a much lighter touch. The chattering repeated notes of the finale demonstrate Douglas’ deft articulation, and his virtuosity keeps things dancing along with fluid, rippling runs and feisty pacing. Douglas ends the disc, as in other volumes thus far, with two transcriptions by Liszt of Schubert songs. Gretchen am Spinnrade has beautifully relentless spinning rhythms against the increasingly intense melodic line of the song, which Douglas brings out with striking lyricism, the intertwined elements of Liszt’s transcription adding to the song’s claustrophobic drama. In Wohin?, from Die schone Mullerin, the rippling ‘accompaniment’ is less frenzied, and the song can soar above more easily, even as Liszt’s virtuosic demands increase. Douglas’ command here is highly impressive, bringing to a close another strong volume in this collection. 

Schubert, F. 2024. Works for Solo Piano, Volume 7. Barry Douglas. Compact Disc. Chandos CHAN 20289.

Check out my reviews of previous Volumes: Volume 1, Volume 2, Volume 3, Volume 5 & Volume 6. 

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. 

Rhapsody - a beautifully constructed programme from Huw Wiggin (saxophone) and Noriko Ogawa (piano)

Saxophonist Huw Wiggin is well known both as a soloist and as a member of the Ferio Saxophone Quartet (my reviews of their discs here, here and here). He also released Reflections back in 2018 (my review here), and he has now followed that up, this time joined by the pianist Noriko Ogawa. This new collection, Rhapsody, was another lockdown-conceived project, and Wiggin and Ogawa have come up with a fascinating programme. Commissions from three composers join works by Debussy and Coates, ending with an arrangement of Liszt. Claude Debussy’s (1862-1918) Rhapsodie pour orchestra et saxophone kicks off, in an arrangement by Vincent David (b.1974). In fact, Debussy never orchestrated the work himself, with that task falling to Jean Roger-Ducasse, and the work was not performed until the year after Debussy’s death. It was commissioned by Elise Hall, a wealthy patron and musician who had taken up the saxophone, who was keen to extend the repertoire for the instrument. Accepting the commission, Debussy struggled to complete the project, and as a result it perhaps lacks the coherence of some of his other works. Nevertheless, there is some gloriously mellifluous writing for the saxophone, as well as infectiously throbbing rhythms in the latter part of the piece. Ogawa’s ethereal opening on the piano sets things up for Wiggin’s sensuous rising out of the ether, and the tone of the two instruments is beautifully matched. In the livelier middle section, the music ripples and flows along, and Ogawa in particular drives things along with the throbbing left hand rhythms which linger as relaxed calm returns, before sudden hammering repeated piano notes herald rapid motion for both instruments.

Eric Coates’ (1886-1957) Saxo-Rhapsody was at the time a successful showpiece for the instrument, but is now seldom heard. It has a relaxed warmth that is immediately engaging, and Ogawa exploits this gentle warmth in the lengthy piano introduction, before Wiggin enters with the smooth melody over soft pulsing piano chords. In the slow, swaying rhythm, Wiggin demonstrates his phenomenal breath control, floating long high notes effortlessly. The livelier central section dances along, with surging piano climaxes and rapid virtuosity for the sax. Gently lapping waves conclude the work, with the sax perhaps sailing out to sea, with another beautifully controlled long final note from Wiggin.

 

So now to the new commissions. First up is Joseph Phibbs (b.1974), with Night Paths (Rhapsody for alto saxophone and piano). Rich sax melodies weave around the piano’s chiming and rippling. The questioning sax becomes slightly more insistent, and then the piano becomes more dominant in response, driving the rhythm forward into a faster section. This conversation continues, with the sax becoming more animated in turn. Then comes a more bluesy, introspective section, with the sax hanging in the air above subtle, dark piano chords, and then a brief virtuosic coda brings things to a rapid conclusion. Wiggin and Ogawa’s exchanges are engaging, once again matching tone and mood beautifully.

 

Iain Farrington’s (b.1977) Paganini Patterns draws on the familiar and widely explored theme from the 24^th Caprice, but rather than going down the variation route he uses elements from the theme as more of an inspiration in this three movement piece for the soprano sax and piano. The opening movement is jauntily playful, with swinging exchanges between the instruments, whilst the middle movement moves into a more sensuous, cabaret-style mood, with hints of the theme in the melodic line and bluesy piano accompaniment. The final movement is a jazzy gallop, with the piano driving the rhythm beneath the freer expression from the sax. This is a joyful addition to the extensive Paganini-inspired catalogue, and a great showpiece for both players here.

 

Composer Jennifer Watson (b. 1984) is also a fellow saxophonist (performing with the Kaleidoscope Saxophone Quartet) who studied alongside Wiggin at Chetham’s and the RNCM. In Rhapsody on an Echo Chamber, for soprano saxophone and piano, she explores ideas of isolation across three connected movements with captivatingly introspective intensity. So in the first movement, the lyrical, flighty sax rises and falls like a butterfly above the moto perpetuo piano, although there is a sense of confinement, as if the butterfly can’t quite escape. Wiggin demonstrates his athletic articulation well here, before things slow to a more emphatic statement, leading into the second movement, with the saxophone now following the piano’s lead. As the piano relaxes into more lilting triplet figurations, the sax soars gently above, and once again, Wiggin’s smoothness of line is glorious. The piano’s triplets turn to trilling in an attempt to increase the intensity, but this doesn’t fully take hold, with butterfly effects on the sax returning, before the join into the final movement. Repeated piano notes set up a more rhythmically pulsing mood, and now the intensity does build, with the sax exploring both the higher (but never shrill from Wiggin) and lower registers of the instrument, over lush piano textures. Minimalist rippling figures lead to the conclusion, with a wind down to slow chords and a simple sax line, with Wiggin once again effortlessly controlling a long final note. This is the most successful for me of the three commissions, with coherent and developed use of the saxophone’s capabilities. 

 

To end their disc, there is a fun arrangement from Harrington of Franz Liszt’s (1811-1886) Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2 in C sharp minor. In the stately opening, Wiggin immediately injects a cheeky sensuality, with Ogawa gently responding on the piano. Ogawa gives us bell-like filigree as the swirling dance picks up, and then with the shift into the major, they both take off like a bullet. Wiggin’s comic cartoon flourishes are great fun, and both players enjoy the increasing virtuosic requirements, with some incredibly tight, crazy chromatic scales before the final flourish. 

 

Overall, this is a beautifully constructed programme with delights new and old, from two musicians clearly in tune with each other and their repertoire. Highly recommended. 

Various. 2023. Rhapsody. Huw Wiggin, Noriko Ogawa. Compact Disc. Orchid Classics. ORC100216.

Singing melodies and rapid-fire showmanship from Alexei Grynyuk in Brighton

Alexei Grynyuk
© Luke Nugent

Alexei Grynyuk (piano)

1pm, Thursday 19 May, 2022 

Dome Concert Hall, Brighton

★★★★

Felix Mendelssohn (1809-1847): Variations Sérieuses in D minor, Op. 54

Franz Schubert (1797-1828): Four Impromptus, D899

Franz Liszt (1811-1886): Litanie, S562/1, piano transcr. from Schubert's Am Tage Aller Seelen, D343

Franz Liszt: Hungarian Rhapsody No. 9 in E flat major 'Carnival in Pest', S244/9

Mendelssohn:

'From his opening prayerful statement of the theme onwards, he ensured the melody sang through at all times'.

Schubert:

'Grynyuk opened the C minor with a captivating pianissimo, and the dynamic contrasts here were arresting'.

Liszt/Schubert:

'Grynyuk’s warm tone made the lyrical melody sing out of the rich texture'.

Liszt:

'Grynyuk also took great delight in the jaunty rhythms and cheeky ornamentation as each melody was introduced – I’m sure there was a twinkle in his eye once or twice – before the fireworks took over each time'.

Read my full review on Bachtrack here.

CD Reviews - September 2018

Mezzo-soprano Sarah Connolly and pianist Joseph Middleton have recorded a wonderful selection of songs, covering 120 years of composers associated with the Royal College of Music, as teachers, students or both.  I heard them perform much of this repertoire in a lunchtime BBC Prom in August, and it was one of my concert highlights of the year so far (read my review here).  The title of the CD, ‘Come to Me in My Dreams’, comes from Frank Bridge’s (1879-1983) beautifully rhapsodic setting of Matthew Arnold’s text, with its bluesy piano opening, passionate swells and dramatic break on ‘truth’.  But the disc opens with a total gem, a touching miniature, ‘The Lost Nightingale’ by Muriel Herbert (1897-1984).  This is a stunning collection, by any standards, but what makes it exceptional is the strong sense of communication and commitment to the texts. From the tender sadness and dislocated syncopation of voice and piano in Ivor Gurney’s (1890-1937) ‘Thou didst delight my eyes’, to the tolling bells and beating heart of the repeated note in Arthur Somervell’s (1863-1937) ‘Into my heart an air that kills’, Connolly always delivers the texts with intensity and passion, without ever becoming mannered in delivery. Her soft, honeyed tone and delicate articulation of ‘drips, drips, drips’ in Stanford’s (1852-1924) ‘A soft day’ is particularly striking. In addition to Connolly’s phenomenal expressiveness and control, Middleton’s playing also deserves equal credit. His rippling watery accompaniment to Parry’s (1848-1918) ‘Weep you no more, sad fountains’ is a perfect example of the subtlety of his touch throughout. In addition to Benjamin Britten’s (1913-1976) set ‘A Charm of Lullabies’, we have ‘A Sweet Lullaby’ and ‘Somnus, the humble god’, two songs written for the set, but rejected by Britten, discovered by Connolly in the Britten-Pears Library, so world premiere recordings here. ‘A Sweet Lullaby’ combines a simple lilting rhythm with an undercurrent of unsettling harmonies, and the urgency of the darker undertone increases, such that the final wail leaves the ‘lullaby’ far from calm. ‘Somnus, the humble god’ is also dark, with its rumbling, rocking piano part and a final stanza likening sleep to death. Many songs here will be unfamiliar to many, but there are some real treasures here.  Cecil Armstrong Gibbs’ (1889-1960) ‘Sailing Homeward’ has a great dramatic arc in its two short minutes, and E. J. Moeran’s (1894-1940) ‘Twilight’ is full of achingly pastoral sadness and loss.  Rebecca Clarke’s (1886-1979) ‘The Cloths of Heaven’ is beautifully lyrical and Romantic, and Connolly’s smooth line is matched by soft textures from Middleton.  Michael Tippett’s (1905-1998) 'Songs for Ariel' are highly atmospheric, and Connolly relishes the drama and quirkiness of Tippett’s settings here. Mark-Anthony Turnage’s (b.1960) ‘Farewell’, written for Connolly, concludes the disc, with Turnage exploiting Connolly’s full range to convey the passion and directness of Stevie Smith’s text. Connolly sounds distraught, almost crazed, delivering the line ‘I loved you best’, contrasted with a beautifully relaxed, bell-like tone in the final ‘ding dongs’, against the high tinkling piano. A wonderful collection of English song, highly recommended.

Various. 2018. Come to Me in My Dreams. Dame Sarah Connolly, Joseph Middleton. Compact Disc. Chandos CHAN 10944.

I first came across lutenist Jadran Duncumb on his recording last year with violinist Johannes Pramsohler.  He now has his first solo recording out, focusing on Silvius Leopold Weiss (1687-1750), who also featured on that previous CD, and Johann Adolf Hasse (1699-1783).  Weiss was one of the most important composers of music for the lute, and was renowned for his technical ability on the instrument.  Hasse wrote a great deal of lute music for Weiss, who performed as a soloist with the Dresden orchestra, where Hasse was Kapellmeister.  Here, Duncumb performs two of Hasse’s Sonatas, although both of these have been transcribed from their original settings for harpsichord.  The Sonata in A major, dedicated to the daughter of Friedrich August II of Saxony, is a delightful two movement piece, and Duncumb has added back some of the detail in the sprightly Allegro that was removed in the original transcription. The Sonata in D minor by Weiss is an altogether more substantial work of Bach-like proportions, in six movements, and from its opening stately Allemande, through to the graceful Sarabande, and the fluid Allegro that ends the work, Duncumb makes this sound totally natural. In his notes, he argues that lutenist Weiss’ writing for the instrument comes alive in a way that Bach’s doesn’t quite, and in Duncumb’s hands this is certainly the case.  There is a lively energy and fluidity in his playing that never sounds difficult or awkward. He also includes a short but harmonically daring Prelude, and a joyous Passacaglia from Weiss to close the disc. Before that, another Sonata from Hasse, with some delightfully delicate Baroque sequences in its opening Allegro, and dancing Presto to finish. The recording is close and resonant, which does mean that one hears the occasional scraping of frets, but the ears soon get used to this, and the pay-off is a richness of tone that makes this a highly engaging debut solo recording from Duncumb. 

Various. 2018. Weiss & Hasse Lute Sonatas. Jadran Duncumb. Compact Disc. Audax Records. ADX 13713.

Barry Douglas (piano) combines Schubert’s (1797-1828) posthumous Piano Sonata D958 with the Six Moments Musicaux for the third volume of his collection of the composer’s works for solo piano.  He finishes off this volume with two of Liszt’s transcriptions of Schubert songs.  The Piano Sonata in C minor, D958 is the first of Schubert’s final three sonatas, written in the final months of his life.  It clearly has its roots in Beethoven, particularly in its dramatic, emphatic opening, but Schubert’s voice quickly emerges, especially in the beautifully poignant Adagio. Douglas delivers the required power and weight in the opening movement, and generally his approach emphasises the dramatic. However, his Adagio has delicacy and sensitive expression, if not going for quite the sense of transcendence here that say, Uchida, achieves.  His finale is powerfully agile, however, culminating in a thunderously emphatic conclusion. The Moments Musicaux are a set of character pieces, varying in style and from the brief, dancing third to the more substantial angst-ridden sixth. There are folk touches here and there, but ultimately, these are intimate ‘moments’, and Douglas gives them individual voices, from the delicate poise of No. 1 to the thundering insistence of No. 5. He ends this volume with two of Liszt’s transcriptions for piano of Schubert songs.  ‘Sei mir gegrüßt’ preserves the beautiful melodic line, but Liszt’s deft variation shifts the melody from the top to the middle of the texture, and resists the temptation to be overly virtuosic. ‘Auf dem Wasser zu singen’ does something similar, but Liszt adds beautifully pianistic textures, adding a new dimension to the song’s watery theme.  Another strong volume in Douglas’ ongoing Schubert cycle.

Schubert, F. 2018. Works for Solo Piano, Volume 3. Barry Douglas. Compact Disc. Chandos CHAN 10990.

(Edited versions of these reviews first appeared in GScene, September 2018)

Virtuosic command and intimate focus from Benjamin Grosvenor

© operaomnia.co.uk 

International Piano Series, Southbank Centre

Benjamin Grosvenor (piano)

4 October 2016

St John's Smith Square, London



★★★★




Read my full review on Bachtrack here.

'A fierce intensity of concentration and precision'.

'Grosvenor combined his obvious command of the virtuosic demands with the ability to draw the audience into the moments of intimacy, showing great delicacy and subtlety'.

'What made this a stunning finale from Grosvenor was his attention to the structure and melodic content, never allowing the virtuosic showmanship to overpower'.

'An impressive demonstration of Grosvenor’s intelligent programming, virtuosic command and developing stylistic range'.

Mozart: Piano Sonata in B flat major, 'Linz', K333

Chopin: Piano Sonata No. 2 in B flat minor ('Funeral march'), Op.35 

Scriabin: Piano Sonata no. 2 'Sonata-Fantasy' in G sharp minor, Op.19

Granados: Goyescas, No. 1 Los Requiebros & No. 2 El fandango de candil

Liszt: Rhapsodie Espagnole, S 254

Encore:
Moszkowski: Étude de Virtuosité in A flat major, Op.72 no. 11

Rory Macdonald's LPO debut: confident, intelligent and commanding

© Benjamin Ealovega

Rory Macdonald had his debut concert conducting the London Philharmonic Orchestra in Brighton on Saturday.  They performed Humperdinck's Prelude to Hansel and Gretel, and were then joined by pianist Lambis Vassiliadis for Chopin's Piano Concerto No. 2 in F minor, Op. 21.  For an encore, Vassiliadis played Liszt's Réminiscences de Norma, S394.  The concert ended with Dvořák's Symphony no. 8 in G major, Op.88.

Brighton Dome, Saturday 17 January 2015.

'fine orchestral playing and an intelligent performance in particular of Dvořák’s Eighth Symphony'

'a strong and arresting performance, receiving a deservedly warm reception from the Brighton audience'.

Read my full review here.

Brighton Festival, May 2013 - Week 1, Part 1

Well, the first week of this year's Brighton Festival is over, and what a great week it's been.  Here are my thoughts on the first part of the week's events that I attended.

Credit: Tim Dickeson

The week began for me with a bit of an experiment - and that is one of the joys of the festival, trying out new things.  So as modern jazz is one area of music unfamiliar to me, I decided to try out a lunchtime concert (Saturday 4 May, Studio Theatre) with saxophonist Marius Neset and his band.  Neset hails from Norway, and has been described as the most talented Norwegian saxophonist since Jan Garbarek.  Now I know some Garbarek, of course from the seminal project with the Hilliard Ensemble, but also from hearing him live in Brighton some years ago.  From that limited experience, I found Neset much more 'high energy', and the band (Anton Eger, drums, Petter Eldh, bass and Ivo Neame, piano) were incredibly tight.  This was a great concert, mostly tracks from his new and second album, Birds - although I have to confess that I spent the whole concert thinking that 'Bert's', as I heard it, was a funny title for an album!  My favourite track was a more lyrical piece, called Portuguese Windmill (which again I

misheard as Portuguese Woman!), but the more 'violent' (as Neset described it) Boxer was also a highpoint.  And interesting to see a totally different demographic at a lunchtime festival concert - clearly the Brighton jazz scene were out in force, and very appreciative of the young performers, as was I.  So, this year's first experiment for me scored a big tick!

Neset, M. 2013. Birds. Marius Neset et al. Compact Disc. Edition Records EDN1040.

Just an hour later, I was back in the Studio Theatre (formerly the Pavilion Theatre) for another experiment - this time a book reading.  The book in question was 'Fanny and Stella', which tells the true story of a remarkable sub-culture of cross-dressing amongst gay men in Victorian England, and the cause célèbre that Fanny Park and Stella Boulton's trial became.  The author, Neil McKenna began by talking about some of the context for this.  He managed to be very entertaining at the same time as raising some quite political issues about how gay history is portrayed and perceived.  I was particularly interested in his argument that conventionally, gay people in the past are portrayed solely as victims of oppression and as sad or tormented characters.  Whilst he in no way said that oppression did not occur, as the trial described in his book shows,

he also pointed out that here was an example of gay men being who they wanted to be, and living in longstanding relationships, even supported by their families.  He then proceeded to read a chapter from the book, which focused on Miss Ann Empson, who ran a boarding house where Lord Arthur Pelham-Clinton took rooms.  Lord Arthur was Stella's husband, and Miss Empson appeared in the trial giving evidence about the visitors to Lord Arthur's rooms, and of cross-dressing that occurred there.  McKenna describes the woman's prurient prejudice, mixed with her obvious delight at being central to the trial, as well as her obvious fondness for a tipple, with great humour.  I've bought the book, and am looking forward to reading more about this incredible story.  An important piece in the jigsaw of gay history which deserves to be told.

McKenna, N. 2013. Fanny & Stella. Faber & Faber, London.

Credit: Eric Manas

The following day was a highly anticipated recital by the great pianist Paul Lewis (Sunday 5 May, Glyndebourne).  He performed the final three of Schubert's Piano Sonatas, two in the first half (D958 in C minor and D959 in A major) followed by the final B flat major Sonata (D960) in the second half.  I found this a rather curious experience, and am coming to the conclusion that Glyndebourne Opera House is just not an ideal venue for a piano recital, particularly for such intimate and intense repertoire such as this.  Paul Lewis' playing was faultless, and his focus was not in question - no preamble or nervous adjusting of the piano stool, just straight on stage and immediately into the turbulent opening bars of the C minor Sonata.  Unfortunately, his performance of this Sonata was marred by persistent coughing, particularly from one audience member close to Lewis on the front row - so much so that he clearly complained when he left the stage after this first Sonata, as an announcer came on stage to request that people refrain from coughing for the remainder of the concert.  Miraculously, people largely managed to do this from then on, which just shows that it is possible to sit through a concert without having to constantly cough and splutter if one really tries.  However, the tension this caused, combined with Lewis' rather aloof stage presence, meant that as a concert experience, this never quite won me over.  The playing was  unquestionably excellent (although I missed the first movement repeats, particularly in the final Sonata, which has a significant first time bar), and the slow movement of the B flat major was particularly beautiful.  Ultimately, I think Paul Lewis' communication and focus was with Schubert and the music, which is fine, but I'm not sure we as the audience were made entirely welcome.

Credit: Noémie Reijnen

In contrast, the very next day (Monday 6 May), I was back in the Studio Theatre for another piano recital, this time by the young Romanian pianist Alexandra Silocea.  She played an imaginative programme, themed around reflections of water, with music by Debussy, Ravel and Liszt.  Now this repertoire is perhaps more extrovert than the Schubert, but immediately I felt a sense that Silocea wanted to communicate the music to us, audience.  Again, the venue was on her side - a small audience, with nobody more than about 10 rows away from her.  The playing was also exceptional - perhaps with the first Debussy piece, Reflets dans l'eau, there was a touch of nervousness, but once in her stride, the rippling rhythms and liquid harmonies

were delightful, as was the humour in Poisson d'or.  Liszt's Variations on 'Weinen, klagen, sorgen, zargen' take the contained chromaticism of Bach's chorus and unleash it, and Silocea equally took flight in this virtuoso piece, yet returned to a beautiful joyous calm for the closing chorale setting.  The programme also included Ravel's incredibly difficult Jeux d'eau, and again, Silocea ably rose to its challenges.  Yet the most inspired bit of programming here was to end with two of Liszt's arrangements of Schubert songs - Der Müller und der Bach from Die schöne Müllerin, and Auf dem Wasser zu singen.  Liszt still manages to find virtuosity here, but Schubert's touching beauty speaks through, and Silocea communicated this perfectly.  Overall, I enjoyed this recital way more than the previous day's - a recital must surely be about communication with the audience, and even if the venue and repertoire assist, the performer still needs to want to engage.  Her latest album, Sound Waves, includes most of the repertoire she performed here, out on 13 May 2013.

Various. 2013. Sound Waves. Alexandra Silocea. Compact Disc. Avie AV2266.

To finish off the day, it was over to the Dome for Cirque Éloize's fantasy circus piece, Cirkopolis.  Inspired by Kafka, Terry Gilliam's Brazil and Fritz Lang's Metropolis, using film production and a stark industrial set, the twelve performers explored the fantasy world of a man trapped in the machine who dreamed of dance and of a beautiful woman.  There is juggling, ring work, aerial acrobatics, amazing feats of balance and strength, and more - and at the end of the day, colour wins out, even when the central character returns to his desk.  At times beautiful, poignant and touching, this ultimately was a surprisingly life-affirming show.  I attended a matinée performance, full of families and children, and I wondered if the dark, frightening setting would appeal to young children - but judging by the audience response, they loved it just as much as I did!

More from Week 1 to follow....

CD Reviews - February 2013

The Doric String Quartet have quickly established themselves in a relatively crowded field of young quartets, and their recordings have won awards and high acclaim.  Their latest disc is no exception, despite the fact they have chosen to record two of the most well-known Schubert quartets, the two known as ‘Rosamunde’ (No. 13 in A minor) and ‘Death and the Maiden’ (No. 14 in D minor).  Both works were composed towards the end of Schubert’s life, when the syphilis that would kill him had taken hold.  Both the names of these quartets refer to the slow movements – the main melody of the ‘Rosamunde’ quartet comes from Schubert’s incidental music for a play of the same name, and the theme for the variations in ‘Death and the Maiden’ comes from his song setting of Der Tod und das Mädchen by Matthias Claudius.  Both quartets combine incredibly dark, almost painful music with moments of lyrical beauty and grace – the intensity of the outer movements of No.14 verges at times on violence.  The Dorics perhaps emphasis the darkness more than the light, with their sparse use of vibrato and accurate use of the full range of dynamics.  Yet they are still able to produce moments of lightness and beauty when required – it’s just that the sense of tragedy and foreboding is never far away, which surely is the intrinsic power of this music.  Even the light melody of the ‘Rosamunde’ tune in No. 13, almost trite in its simplicity, acquires a mystery as it rises to a brief climax before subsiding once more into calm.  Yet the dark heart of No. 14, the Death and the Maiden variations, is where the Dorics show their total mastery of this music.  The relentless rhythm of the tune, taken here at a more pressing tempo allows every player to shine in turn, but cellist John Myerscough stands out in the fifth variation, before the music returns with painful inevitability to the simple theme in the coda.  You can hear the Doric String Quartet play this quartet in Lewes at the Nicholas Yonge Society (Friday 22 February) – not to be missed!

Schubert, F. String Quartets, 'Rosamunde' and 'Der Tod und das Mädchen'. Doric String Quartet. 2012. Compact Disc. Chandos CHAN 10737.

Pianist Benjamin Grosvenor was just 11 when he won the keyboard final of Young Musician of the Year in 2004 (losing in the final to violinist Nicola Benedetti).  He became the youngest pianist to play at the First Night of the Proms in 2011, making his debut there with Liszt’s Second Piano Concerto, to great acclaim, and recently he won two Gramophone awards (Best Instrumentalist and Best Young Artist).  I’ve been listening to his 2011 CD of Chopin, Liszt and Ravel, and I have to say this is one performer who deserves the hyperbolic reviews he has been receiving lately.  The disc includes Chopin’s four Scherzos, alternated with three of the Nocturnes.  The disc ends with Ravel’s enormously challenging Gaspard de la nuit, and in the middle are three short works from Liszt – two transcriptions of Polish songs by Chopin, and Liszt’s own Nocturne, ‘En rêve’.  His virtuosity in these challenging works is without question, but what impresses even more is the maturity of interpretation.  From the wild first Scherzo at the start of the disc, through Liszt’s surprisingly introspective ‘En rêve’, to the technical nightmare of Scarbo, Gaspard de la nuit’s notoriously difficult final movement, Grosvenor’s playing is captivating and inspiring.

Various. Chopin, Liszt, Ravel. Benjamin Grosvenor. 2011. Compact Disc. Decca 478 3206.

Jean-Efflam Bavouzet is back with more Haydn (1732-1809).  His 4^th volume of Haydn’s Piano Sonatas brings us three Sonatas (Nos. 30, 38 & 40) and a set of Variations in F minor.   The well-known Variations were composed in 1793, so towards the end of the composer’s life, and he perhaps jokingly subtitled the work ‘Un piccolo Divertimento’ – this is fact a substantial piece, certainly not a lightweight novelty.  This is actually a double set of variations, with two musical episodes, each varied twice.  As with previous discs in the series, Bavouzet demonstrates his authoritative immersion in this music, through his informative performance notes, but also in his sensitive and appropriate use of ornamentation and decoration.  He brings out Haydn’s humour, particularly in Sonata No. 30’s opening movement, as well as the joy and spirit of the more well-known No. 38’s closing Finale.  No. 40 is somewhat shorter, with just two movements, but no less interesting, with particularly clever use of canon in the second Menuet movement.  Once again, Bavouzet is a joy to listen to, and the intermittent arrival of the volumes from this series is always something to look forward to – roll on Volume 5!

Haydn, F. J. Piano Sonatas, Volume 4. Jean-Efflam Bavouzet. 2012. Compact Disc. Chandos CHAN 10736.

The fact most often stated about Czech composer and violinist Josef Suk (1874-1935) is that he was a pupil of, and married the daughter of Dvořák – talk about being overshadowed!  Yet despite this, his music is well worth exploration, and he produced some fine chamber and orchestral works – his Serenade for Strings is perhaps one of his best known pieces.  Czech conductor, Jirí Bêlohlávek, with the BBC Symphony Orchestra, have recorded two of his orchestral works and a glorious new disc, which can be highly recommended.  The first work on the disc, ‘A Summer’s Tale’, is a beautiful evocation of summer and nature, and is a real discovery for me.  The orchestration is striking, and the use of hazy, shimmering strings, and bright and perky wind playing creates a fascinating soundworld which deserves greater recognition.  The Intermezzo, with its representation of blind musicians playing a mournful tune, oblivious of the sunshine around them, is particularly striking and evocative. The other work here, ‘Prague’, was composed shortly after the tragic loss of first his father-in-law Dvořák, to whom he was very close, and then soon just two months later, the death of his beloved wife, Dvořák’s daughter Otilka.  The work makes use of a love theme that he used in an earlier work composed just before his marriage to Otilka, and a Hussite chorale tune, and the work climaxes with the two themes combining triumphantly.  Both works receive performances full of life and the BBC Symphony Orchestra rise to the challenge of the many solo opportunities that the works also present.

Suk, J. Prague, A Summer's Tale. BBC Symphony Orchestra, Jirí Bêlohlávek. 2012. Super Audio Compact Disc. Chandos CHSA 5109.

(Edited versions of these reviews first appeared in GScene magazine, February 2013)