Showing posts with label Michael Collins. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Michael Collins. Show all posts

Saturday, 3 October 2020

Warmth and pleasure in music-making from Michael Collins and LMP friends

Michael Collins
© Nick Rutter
  Michael Collins (clarinet)
  Members of the London Mozart Players
  Simon Blendis (violin)
  Jennifer Godson (violin)
  Judith Busbridge (viola)
  Sebastian Comberti (cello)

  Thursday 1 October, 7pm

  (reviewed from online stream)

  ★

Carl Maria von Weber (1786-1826): Clarinet Quintet in B flat major, Op. 34

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (1756-1791): Clarinet Quintet in A major, K581

Michael Collins & the London Mozart Players
© Nick Rutter
Weber:
'There was some especially sensitive pianissimo moments from the players in the operatically dramatic slow movement'.

Collins' 'virtuosic command was without doubt, but also the variety of tone was impressive, from the bright upper reaches right down to the rich depths'.

Mozart:
'A beautifully warm performance, with close communication from all and evident joy on Collins’ face'.

'The finale was a joy from beginning to end, and Judith Busbridge’s viola solo in the slow minor variation was heartfelt, with a gorgeously rich tone'.

Read my full review on Bachtrack here.

Thursday, 21 September 2017

CD Reviews - September 2017


In 2015, saxophonist Huw Wiggin’s recital was the highlight of the Brighton Festival’s lunchtime concerts, and the following year he returned with the fellow members of the Ferio Saxophone Quartet to wow audiences once again.  So it’s great to see that they now have a recording contract with Chandos and have launched their debut commercial disc with a wonderful programme of original works for the saxophone quartet.  The centerpiece of the disc is a set of six Cíudades (Cities) by the Dutch saxophonist Willem van Merwijk, under his composing pen name of Guillermo Lago (b.1960).  They performed a selection of these at that Festival gig, and the persistent energy of Tokyo, the mournful, eastern inflections of Sarajevo, as well as the bustling Addis Ababa struck me as highly evocative then.  So it’s great to hear the other movements, such as the rhythmically driven Córdoba with its contrasting slow sections, and the Piazzolla-esque slow tango, Montevideo.  The quartet inhabits each of these cities, and communicates their evocative moods well.  They clearly like Lago’s music, as they have since commissioned another work, ‘The Wordsworth Poems’.  Lago’s writing is very atmospheric here too, and the quartet exploits some very quiet playing in the first movement, ‘Composed on Westminster Bridge’, to great effect.  The disc opens with an altogether more sedate affair, a delightful Grand Quatuor concertant by the Belgian composer Jean-Baptise Singelée (1812-1875), with great melodic invention, allowing each instrument to shine. This is followed by an elegant set of variations on a jaunty little theme, the Introduction et variations sur une ronde populaire by Gabriel Pierné (1863-1937).  This earlier, more Romantic repertoire allows the quartet to demonstrate their ability to create a beautifully unified, warm tone, as well as bring each instrument to the fore when required.  The recording is rounded off with a lively Hoe Down by Will Gregory (b.1959) (of Goldfrapp fame), showcasing the baritone sax amid the dancing rhythms.  Even if you don’t think you like the saxophone (although why wouldn’t you?), this deserves attention for the sheer variety of repertoire and the impressive talent of these four players.  Highly recommended.


Johannes Pramsohler and his Ensemble Diderot bring us more rare Baroque repertoire, this time by another forgotten Dresden composer, Giovanni Alberto Ristori (1692-1753).  They are joined by Argentinian soprano, María Savastano, and Spanish oboist Jon Olaberria.  The bulk of the disc is taken up by three cantatas, with libretti written by Bavarian princess Maria Antonia who joined the Dresden court in 1747 when she married her first cousin, the Crown Prince Friedrich Christian.  Ristori’s settings of these three monologues are lively and full of dramatic interest.  There is the familiar story of Dido, abandoned and in despair, as well as the tale of Lavinia (also from the Aeneid) who is promised in marriage to Aeneis, and so is forced to leave her fiancé Turno (who Aeneis then kills!). The final story is a simpler tale of Nice’s woes over her absent shepherd lover Tirsi – and here we have a happy ending, with Tirsi taking the shape of a solo oboe for a final love duet. Savastano has a powerful, dramatic voice, and she gives full vent to the heroines’ passions.  There are long passages of recitative, yet these are filled with emotional word-setting, underpinned with dramatic instrumental flourishes.  In ‘Didone abbandonata’, Dido is a much angrier, even defiant heroine than Purcell’s rather passive characterisation, and again, Savastano relishes the passion in Ristori’s writing. But the height of dramatic pace has to be Lavinia’s final aria from ‘Lavinia a Turno’, with wildly exciting, racing strings, and a tour de force for the soprano.  Savastano’s virtuosity is very impressive here, yet she also demonstrates a gentler side in the final duet of ‘Nice a Tirsi’.  Olaberria’s sensitive playing also sets us up nicely for the final work on the disc, a delightful Oboe Concerto.  The writing for the oboe is delicate yet intricate, and Olaberria makes this sound deceptively easy.  His graceful touch in the slow movement is also lightly matched by the strings, and the courtly finale rounds things off beautifully.  As ever, Pramsohler and the Ensemble play with precision and great energy, making this yet another successful addition to their growing catalogue celebrating unknown gems of the Baroque repertoire.


Max Reger (1873-1916) has been receiving a bit more attention of late, following the 100th anniversary of his death last year.  Unlike the prevailing direction of early twentieth century Germanic music towards the atonality and serialism of the Second Viennese School (Schoenberg et al), Reger admired and very much followed in the footsteps of Brahms, and this is most evident in his three Sonatas for Clarinet and Piano.  In fact, it is said that hearing a private performance of Brahms’ F minor Clarinet Sonata in 1900 led him to state there and then that he would compose two sonatas for the instrument, which he proceeded to do in a matter of months.  He wrote one more Clarinet Sonata in 1908, and all three have been recorded here by clarinetist Michael Collins, with Michael McHale on piano.  They begin with the later work, the Sonata Op. 107, a weighty work at just over half an hour (the earlier Sonatas coming in at about twenty minutes each).  It is full of Reger’s characteristic rich, wandering harmonies, and like late Brahms, he exploits the dark lyricism of the clarinet to great effect.  He ends with a sunnier, playful if slightly rambling finale, although this concludes in a slower, more reflective mood.  The Sonata Op. 49 No. 1 has a turbulent, rather agitated opening movement, and both Collins and McHale give this great passion.  The strange harmonies of the slow movement’s opening bars are followed by some beautiful rhapsodic playing from McHale in particular, with Collins sailing lyrically over the top. Turbulence is never far from the surface, and although Reger never quite finds the moments of sublime beauty that his idol Brahms achieved, this is nevertheless fine chamber music that deserves greater exposure.  The Sonata Op. 49 No. 2 has another extensive first movement, followed by a bright, fleet-footed scherzo, delivered here with dazzling panache, again with McHale having the most virtuosic part to play. Throughout, Collins and McHale bring out the melodic and harmonic interest, never allowing Reger’s slightly rambling style to lose direction. 

Reger, M. 2017. Clarinet Sonatas. Michael Collins, Michael McHale. Compact Disc. Chandos CHAN 10970.

(Edited versions of these reviews first appeared in GScene, September 2017)

Monday, 17 October 2016

CD Reviews - October 2016


Clarinettist Michael Collins has been working his way through an excellent survey of British Clarinet repertoire in his series of discs of Sonatas, and now with a second disc of Clarinet Concertos.  Here he is not only soloist but also conductor of the BBC Symphony Orchestra in four fascinating but pretty obscure works seldom performed.  He opens the disc with Movements for a Clarinet Concerto by Benjamin Britten.  This began life as an incomplete sketch for an opening concerto movement that Britten wrote in America with Benny Goodman in mind.  However, on his return to Britain, his manuscripts were impounded by customs, on suspicion that they might somehow contain coded information.  Goodman later got cold feet when the US entered the war, and Britten had moved his attention on to Peter Grimes, so the work was never completed.  In 1990, Colin Matthews (b.1946) orchestrated the sketch, and Collins premiered the resulting movement.  Then in 2007, Matthews took a two-piano work and an orchestral sketch by Britten, and orchestrated both to make a three-movement concerto, which Collins also premiered.  The result is a remarkably convincing work, with a striking opening flourish and spiky arpeggios for the clarinet in the first movement, a subtle and somewhat subdued central 'Elegiac Mazurka', followed by a lively finale, in which Matthews brings in the opening theme from the first movement to give the concerto a sense of cohesion.  Gerald Finzi's (1901-1956) Five Bagatelles, Op. 23a were originally for clarinet and piano, but were arranged for clarinet and string orchestra by Lawrence Ashmore (1928-2013) in 1989 as a companion piece for Finzi's well-known Clarinet Concerto (recorded by Collins on his first volume of British Concertos).  These are characterful, mostly lyrical pieces, with lots of very English pastoral melodies. Finzi's family had Italian and German Jewish roots, but he was born in London, and studied under Stanford. The Romance is particularly beautiful and breathes with a wistful idyllic air, and the final Fughetta is joyful and carefree.  Arnold Cooke (1906-2005) was born in Yorkshire, and studied with Paul Hindemith, before teaching in Manchester and then at Trinity College of Music in London until 1978.  His Concerto No. 1 contains lots of angular melodies that have a clear link to Hindemith, and the opening movement is full of spiky contrapuntal writing, the leaps and turns of which Collins negotiates with ease.  The central slow movement's lyrical melody ends with a repeated blackbird call, and there is a definite feel of flight and pastoral freedom here. The finale picks up the pace with a lively dancing clarinet theme supported by varied rhythmic interest in the orchestral writing.    Wales is represented here by the Concerto Op. 68 by William Mathias (1934-1992).  The Concerto is orchestrated for strings and a variety of percussion, which is used to great effect throughout.  The opening movement's 'Scotch snap' rhythms create a birdlike, pecking feel to the melody, enhanced with Matthias' use of percussion, with a slower central section enhanced by an eerie vibraphone.  The slow movement is more introspective, with a mysterious intensity throughout, ending with a cadenza for the clarinet, which, joined by rototoms, rushes straight into a somewhat frenzied, jazz-infused finale, giving little breathing space for the clarinet.  This is a disc packed with variety and interest, and Collins and the BBC Symphony Orchestra give faultless and enthusiastic performances of these fascinating works, making this worthy of high recommendation.


Lutenist Alex McCartney follows up his debut album, which I reviewed in January 2016 with 'Elizabeth's Lutes', a disc of lute music from the time of Elizabeth I.  She was a keen lute player herself, and also employed many musicians in her court.  McCartney has put together a nicely varied programme, all recorded in a highly resonant acoustic, which actually suits this music well, adding warmth and depth to the tone.  However, he opens the disc with a delightful piece, Susanne un jour, by the Franco-Flemish composer, Orlande de Lassus (1532-1594), who has no real connection to Elizabeth. Nevertheless, de Lassus was world famous and would surely have influenced musicians and composers of the time, and despite not specifically writing for the lute as far as we know, this lute arrangement was made by a contemporary in England.  There are a number of works here by Daniel Bacheler (c.1574-c.1610), who was 'Lutenist and Groome of her Majestie's Privie Chamber'.  His Monsieur's Allemande is the most substantial, with great opportunities for McCartney to demonstrate his command of the instrument in its variations.  He also plays two of Anthony Holborne's (c.1545-1602) rich Pavanes, and his touching Last Will and Testament.  Holborne was probably an usher at Elizabeth's court, and was not employed as a musician, despite composing much lute, cittern and bandora music in his lifetime.  Alfonso Ferrabosco's (1543-1588) Miserere is a little more ornate, with a delicacy and lightness, which McCartney brings out well here.  John Dowland's (1563-1626) career in England suffered from his early conversion to Catholicism, and he spent some time employed as a lutenist in Denmark, only finally being employed by the English court after Elizabeth's death. His Fancy included here begins quite starkly but soon gathers pace, building in virtuosity.  William Byrd's (c.1540-1623) keyboard Pavane Bray was arranged by Francis Cutting (c.1550-c.1596), and McCartney manages its contrapuntal lines evenly. This is a highly enjoyable disc, warmly recorded and expertly performed throughout.


Edward Gardner is on the third volume of Leoš Janáček’s (1854-1928) orchestral works with the Bergen Philharmonic Orchestra, and the main work here is one of his finest non-operatic works, the wonderful Glagolitic Mass.  Glagolitic refers to the script, an early version of Cyrillic, in which the Old Church Slavonic Mass was originally written.  This is an incredibly challenging choral work, and here Gardner has massed together four choirs, the Bergen Philharmonic Choir being enhanced by the Choir of Collegiûm Mûsicûm, the Edvard Grieg Kor and the Bergen Cathedral Choir. They opt for the revised edition, which includes changes made by Janáček during rehearsals for its premiere.  There are arguments for both – were those changes due to inadequacies of the Brno premiere forces, or were they changes that Janáček really wanted in the light of hearing the work being performed?  The upshot is that the earlier version has more raw edges, but also a more ‘dangerous’ energy.  However, the revised version is more often performed, and here it receives a highly energetic and incisive performance.  The choral forces are solid, with clear diction and well-blended tone, particularly impressive in the wildly joyful Svet (Sanctus).  The solo line-up is also strong, particularly soprano Sara Jakubiak and tenor StuartSkelton. Thomas Trotter’s wild organ solo is incredibly powerful, followed by a gloriously brassy Intrada to close the work. This is a strong performance, with great depth of recorded sound from Chandos.  I miss hearing the Intrada at the opening as well as at the end – but of course on CD, that’s easily rectified.  The disc also contains a moody Adagio, more overtly romantic than his later works, but nonetheless enjoyable.  Zdrávas Maria (Hail Mary) is for Soprano, chorus, violin and organ, and it receives a touchingly sensitive reading here from Sara Jakubiak and two of the choirs.  The final work is a setting of The Lord’s Prayer, Otče Náš, again for chorus and organ, but now with Tenor solo and harp.  Stuart Skelton and the choral forces give a passionate reading of this attractive setting.  However, none of the additional works can compete with the drama of the Glagolitic Mass and the powerful performance it receives here.



(Edited versions of these reviews first appeared in GScene, October 2016)