Classical Notes
Reflections on classical music, recordings and performances
Wednesday, 19 November 2025
Giltburg and Foster celebrate the Philharmonia’s 80th birthday with a punchy piano-fest
Monday, 10 November 2025
The Brighton Philharmonic Orchestra strings excel, with expressive Britten from Padmore & Watkins, and exciting MacMillan from MacGregor
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| Joanna MacGregor & the BPO strings © Frances Marshall |
Mark Padmore (tenor)
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| Ruth Rogers leading the BPO strings © Frances Marshall |
Britten, Benjamin (1913-1976): Young Apollo, Op. 16
The Brighton Philharmonic Orchestra continued their successful season with a programme that allowed their string section to shine, and shine they did. With some of the richest string playing I’ve heard from them, they relished the warm Corn Exchange acoustic, and also showed their tight ensemble in some of the more complex rhythmic music this evening. And what a great programme, with the music of three English composers – Britten, Purcell and Downland – joining the great Scottish composer, James MacMillan.
So they began with Britten’s Young Apollo, with Music Director Joanna MacGregor at the keyboard. It’s a vibrant, energetic piece, composed in 1939 when the 26-year-old Britten was in New York, yet he withdrew it soon after its premiere, without saying why, and it wasn’t performed again until 1979, after his death. It’s hard to know why, as its bright, radiant energy certainly captures images of ‘the new dazzling Sun-god’, as Britten described Apollo, inspired by Keats’ Hyperion. MacGregor launched in with an incisive start, and the glassy string slides and scales against the virtuosic piano scales were full of vitality. The vibrant solo string quartet contrasted well with the full, luscious string sound, and the ensemble of the accelerating chords at the finish was spot on.

Mark Padmore, Alexei Watkins and the BPO
© Frances Marshal
Next up the strings were left to their own devices, with leader Ruth Rogers directing from the front desk in Britten’s arrangement of Purcell’s Chacony. Here their lush sound came to the fore, but also their ability to keep their precision alive when playing quietly. Just when the repeated variations that form the chaconne felt like they were becoming borderline aggressive, they dropped back to produce a more sensitive, quieter sound, and the slowing up of the quiet ending was well timed.
They were then joined by their Principal Horn player, Alexei Watkins and tenor Mark Padmore for Britten’s masterpiece, the Serenade for Tenor, Horn and Strings. A cycle of eight short songs setting varied texts including Tennyson, Blake and Keats, it is bookended by a Prologue and Epilogue for the solo horn. Watkins’ opening Prologue, which exploits hand-stopping to produce natural, other-worldly harmonics, was secure and controlled, with an earthy rasp to the sound in places, and the off-stage Epilogue at the end was atmospherically eery. Padmore’s expressive communication of the texts was faultless, so no need to consult the texts in the programme here. His tone was equally expressive, with moments of tender fragility , such as in Pastoral, as well as evocative word-painting, as in Nocturne’s repeated ‘dying’, and the playfully decorative ‘excellently’ in Hymn to Diana. Occasionally, expressive projection was favoured over centring of intonation, such as on the repeated ‘lulling’ or at the highest end of the range, but communication of the dark moods and evocative texts had undeniable clarity throughout. Watkins’ fanfares in Nocturne, and shifts in and out of mute in the mournful Elegy were impressive, and he demonstrated considerable power in Dirge. MacGregor directed the strings with clarity and energy, with a gleaming, glassy sound in Nocturne, and strong articulation in Dirge.
Joanna MacGregor’s arrangements of three short Dowland pieces provided a delightful opening to the concert’s second half, with solo violins and viola joining the double bass and cello pizzicato line in Forlorn Hope Fancy, soon to be joined by running lines from the piano, the arrangement cleverly building to a richly textured conclusion. In Mr Dowland’s Midnight, MacGregor uses the pizzicato double basses again, this time layered with jazzy piano chords and then string surges. A muted quartet of two cellos, viola and violin features, with noodling from the piano on top. The final Can She Excuse for strings alone provided a lively rhythmic contrast to end the set.

Joanna MacGregor (snare drum and piano)
© Frances Marshall
James McMillan’s Piano Concerto No. 2, which ended the evening’s concert, was a revelation to me, an exciting piece full of humour and playfulness but also complexity and diversity of moods. There’s the McMillan trademark use of Scottish tunes, and the Ceilidh that always seems to go off the rails. When MacGregor has conducted the full orchestra from the piano in the past, it hasn’t always proved totally successful, particularly in larger scale concerto works. However, here, the smaller forces of just strings needed less controlling, especially with Rogers’ strong leadership. Joanna still managed some left hand conducting whilst playing the solo part in the right hand, however, and everything felt extremely tight and energetic throughout. The opening movement, Cumnock Fair, is full of cartoon-like, playful renditions of various 18th century tunes, and there is plenty of opportunity for the strings to have fun. At one point, the violins’ drunken melody gets louder and slightly out of hand, and the BPO violins judged and controlled this well. Melodies collided as the piano tried to pick out the quote of music from Donizetti’s Lucia di Lammermoor’s famous Mad Scene, which repeatedly went off the rails (in a good, Ravel’s La Valse kind of way), before the sliding strings came over all atmospherically Celtic. As the chaos develops into full on Ceilidh in the final movement, there was enthusiastic foot stamping and whoops from the players, with slaps and slides, and the solo piano ringing out on top. Joanna even switched to beating rhythm on the snare drum before sliding down into the depths of the keyboard, and then still trying to assert the Lucia music. Rising piano flourishes built with a stomping string reel, bringing everything to a sudden raucous conclusion.
Tuesday, 4 November 2025
Gothic Opera allows another side of Offenbach to shine at Battersea Arts Centre
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| Die Rheinnixen © Craig Fuller |
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| Owain Gwynfryn (Conrad) © Craig Fuller |
Sunday, 2 November 2025
The Railway Children becomes a pacy action thriller in Turnage's hands at Glyndebourne
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| Jessica Cale (Bobbie), Henna Mun (Phyllis) & Matthew McKinney (Peter) © Glyndebourne Productions Ltd/Richard Hubert Smith |
Tim Anderson (Conductor)
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| Gavan Ring (Mr Perks) & Chorus © Glyndebourne Productions Ltd/Richard Hubert Smith |
Edward Hawkins (David, Mr Tarpolski)
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| Jessica Cale (Bobbie) & Ensemble © Glyndebourne Productions Ltd/Richard Hubert Smith |
'Hewer’s libretto is direct and clear, with switches between narration and dialogue moving the action along with pace. Turnage’s score is tight and equally pacy, with strong use of chamber forces, from single strings to woodwinds and dashes of percussion, the overall style of tense action thriller occasionally giving way to more tender lyricism, all conducted with energetic precision by Tim Anderson'.
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| The Railway Children - full cast © Glyndebourne Productions Ltd/Richard Hubert Smith |
'Matthew McKinney was convincing as Peter, ... carrying Turnage’s angular lines well, and Henna Mun was endearingly sweet as Phyllis'.
Thursday, 30 October 2025
Highly engaging performance of Tarney's effective Lux Stellarum from The Choir of Royal Holloway
It’s a crowded field these days for new choral music, which is good news for the genre, but it does make it harder for composers and their compositions to stand out from the rest. Thankfully, this new recording by The Choir of Royal Holloway, directed by Rupert Gough of Oliver Tarney’s (b.1984) Lux Stellarum is a welcome addition, with its combination of familiar and less familiar texts, and use of varied choral textures. This is assisted by the strong showing from the choir here, with Andrew Dewar on organ. Tarney was new to me, but he clearly already has a body of music behind him, with several recordings of his works also already in the catalogue. Lux Stellarum is a short requiem for choir and organ, which he wrote for the choir of the American Cathedral in Paris, and biblical passages are mixed with texts by John Donne and the Canadian writer Marjorie Pickthall. With its focus on light, the stars and the universe, it sits in the more positive, hopeful camp of requiem interpretations – no hell and damnation here, but more reassurance in perpetual light and eternal rest. And so to the music. Tarney writes smooth lines and mixes use of plainchant melodies with fuller choral settings, and soaring intertwined soprano voices open the first section, followed soon by the organ heralding the full choir. The setting of the Requiem text is confident, with plainsong elements reminiscent of Duruflé, followed by more rhythmic writing for the Amos text. The Kyrie is gentler, and the choir’s diction here is exemplary, as well as the purity of the high sopranos. The third section sets a Pickthall poem focussing on the vastness of the stars above. The setting is clear, and once again the choir’s diction allows the text and Tarney’s word painting to come across effectively. There’s a beautifully controlled high chord on ‘soft infinite’, and the harmonic shift for ‘unafraid’ stands out within the otherwise relatively straightforward harmonic language. There’s a bit more movement in the Sanctus, and the Hosanna is warmly joyful, ‘excelsis’ ringing out. The Agnus Dei is the most effective of the movements for me, with the combination of chant of the psalm text interspersed with the Agnus Dei text, with more and more layered, falling lines. The lower voices also get more of a showing here, with a particularly strong tenor chant section, but attention returns to thinned out upper voices for the conclusion. The final section, with the In paradisum text combined with John Donne, contains some of the most crunchy harmonic writing, delivered with impressive blend from the choir here. There’s a hefty, powerful organ solo, and rich tonal chords spread out into more complex textures. Sometimes full albums of choral music, especially from one composer, can mean that works get lost within a homogenous soundworld, however well written. With just the one work here, at just under half an hour, this is a short release, but this allows this effective piece to stand out on its own, leaving us wanting to hear more from the composer rather than less. Gough and The Choir of Royal Holloway also deserve credit for their clarity and rich blend, as do the team from Convivium for their generously warm recording.
Wednesday, 22 October 2025
Hugh Shrapnel shares thoughts on his music, influences, and life as a composer
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| Hugh Shrapnel |
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| Hugh Shrapnel credit: Phoebus Apostolide |
Composition came early - he was inventing tunes as a boy, and he remembers a marching tune that he used to sing all the time, driving his mother mad! He started composing seriously at around fourteen, and was fascinated by modern music, inspired by hearing a performance of Schoenberg’s Serenade on the radio and Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring. So he already knew he wanted to be a composer at that time. His father, and Mary Stott, a musician friend and fellow Guardian journalist (the founder of the paper’s women’s page) encouraged him, although initially, academic studying of music took a back seat to his keenness for listening to new music and writing. He went to the Battersea College of Technology for a year, studying with Hans Heimler, the Austrian composer and musicologist, who had studied with Berg and Weingartner. From there, he went on to the Royal Academy of Music, where he initially studied composition with Norman Demuth, whose main interest was French music. Shrapnel’s interest lay in avant garde, serial music, so he moved to study with Cornelius Cardew, and this was a better fit, opening many opportunities for him in experimental music. He joined Cardew’s Scratch Orchestra, and they took their experimental music out of the concert halls, touring in the North East, Wales and Cornwall. ‘What they thought of what we were doing is something else!’, says Hugh, but he says that their mission was partly to rebel against the musical establishment of the time.
Collaborating with other musicians has always been important for Hugh, from those early days with Cardew and other important British experimental composers such as John White, Chris Hobbs and Alec Hill, with whom he formed the quartet, the Promenade Theatre Orchestra, right through to more recent piano duetting with fellow composer John Lewis. This led to Elements of London, the first recording of his work (and Lewis’) by the Ivory Duo Piano Ensemble. It’s also worth mentioning that Cardew directed many of those early experimental pioneers, including Hugh, in the UK premiere in 1968 of Terry Riley’s In C. Along the way, Hugh’s compositions have often been for the musician friends around him, and unusual combinations of instruments have always interested him. On mentioning in conversation that I had played the euphonium at school, Hugh immediately referred to his piece for euphonium and two electric keyboards, West Pier, and he’s currently working on completing a long cycle of pieces for accordion, trumpet, piano, percussion and cello. Other collaborators include the BBC Radio 3 presenter and pianist Sarah Walker and composer pianist Robert Coleridge (who passed away in 2019), who recorded his South of the River suite of piano duos in 1998, and have been great supporters of his work. The Cornelius Cardew Concerts Trust, led by composer Michael Chant has been also very significant, with Hugh’s compositions receiving frequent performances at their Morley College concerts.
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| Promenade Theatre Orchestra, 1972 |
Aside from the South of the River suite, and a 1972 Promenade Theatre Orchestra recording, the more recent Convivium Records albums are the only available recordings of Hugh’s work. However, there are a number of performances of some of the earlier experimental works on YouTube, including several of Raindrops, a work ‘for any number or kind of tuned and untuned percussion, guitars and other plucked strings’. These include one for flutes, guitars and keyboards, as well as one for glockenspiels. Following those early experimental years, like a lot of other composers, Hugh gradually moved towards more ‘conventional’ music, as he describes it. ‘It (experimental music) had run its course, and I wanted to write tunes again. Looking back on the experimental music, it was a short-lived phenomenon’. Whilst he has still performed such works more recently, it now somehow ‘feels like going back in time’.
Hugh says he rarely starts from a purely musical idea when composing, but often more of a poetic image. He describes such pieces as ‘descriptive, of a mood - poems in music, if that’s not too pretentious’. It is that ability to capture this in small form, distilling an image, a thought or an idea, that is so impressive in his work. There is a clear thread of connection with local environment, community and political issues in much of his work. ‘During the experimental time, it was all to do with concepts, in its own little world’. That’s not to say that politics weren’t important then too. Hugh played oboe in the Peoples’ Liberation Music, a political music group in the 1970s, playing folk and ‘agit-pop’, and they often played on demonstrations against cuts, supporting the miners’ strike, the Irish Struggles and anti-fascism.
Hugh feels rooted in the geographical area of South East London, where he has lived for most of his life. He moved from Stockport to Blackheath when he was 12, and apart from a few years in Birmingham, he has remained in the area. Why? ‘Well, force of habit. But I like it – there are lots of parks and open space, and I’ve always loved the countryside and nature’. Oxleas Wood, the first piece in South of the River, was written in support of a successful local campaign against a motorway being carved through this ancient wood. Like many, composing has not been his sole profession from necessity. In the 70s and 80s he taught music in schools and further education colleges, but then spent many years working part time in a council housing department. Teaching was demanding, with marking and preparing eating into his time. The housing job, whilst demanding in its own way, it gave more free time for composition, but it also brought him into the outside world. New music circles can become somewhat isolationist, whilst Hugh feels that music is very much ‘to do with everyday life’. He thinks more and more about the idea of music being expressive, in contrast to the earlier experimental view of music as pure sounds. In essence, he is ‘more and more concerned with melody’.
With three recordings of his music on Convivium Records under his belt, a fourth is on the way. Following on from piano duos, solo piano works and wind chamber works, the new album will be music for strings, including a new work for string quartet. He’s also working on orchestrating some of his earlier works, including the South of the River piano duets. So there’s still more to come, and I for one will be looking forward to hearing more very soon.
Various. 2020. Elements of London. Ivory Duo Piano Ensemble. Compact Disc. Convivium Records. CR055.
Shrapnel, H. 2023. Hugh Shrapnel: Piano Works. Ivory Duo Piano Ensemble. Compact Disc. Convivium Records. CR087.
Tuesday, 21 October 2025
Playful Coleridge-Taylor contrasting with dramatic Mahler from the Brighton Philharmonic Orchestra
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| Elena Urioste © Chris Gloag |
Elena Urioste (violin)
For their latest programme, ‘The Romantics’, the Brighton Philharmonic Orchestra presented two highly contrasting works, with Mahler’s mighty Symphony No. 5 following the lighter offering of Samuel Coleridge-Taylor’s Violin Concerto in G minor, Op. 80. Ben Gernon was originally scheduled to conduct the concert but was replaced by Alice Farnham, whose combination of precise direction and energy made for a highly engaging afternoon’s programme. Of course it shouldn’t be worthy of note, but it’s great to see an all-female roster (for the second time this season) of conductor, soloist (Elena Urioste) and leader (Ruth Rogers) – with Music Director Joanna MacGregor the overall driving force.
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| Elena Urioste © Nick Boston |
Following the brassy stately opening from the orchestra, Urioste launched with a flourish into the first melodic idea, and from there, delivered each episodic entry with panache, at one point dancing her line over the accompanying pizzicato strings, and elsewhere injecting just enough bite to point up her dotted rhythms over the full orchestra. That dotted rhythm featured highly in her impressive cadenza, leading to a dramatic conclusion from the orchestra. The second movement is unashamedly lyrical, and the BPO strings set up just the right kind of muted accompaniment to allow Urioste to sing the silky lines above them. Orchestral ensemble was kept tight by Farnham through the ebb and flow of the rubatos whilst Urioste’s tender solos roamed effortlessly. The sprightly finale is once again packed with thematic invention, and Urioste and Farnham drove on through with playful energy (accompanied by frequent audible foot-tapping from Urioste). Virtuosic downward scale passages and skittering runs were aplenty, and weighty tuttis from the orchestra made for a brightly dramatic conclusion. In stark contrast, Urioste gave a simple yet highly tender rendition of Over the Rainbow by Harold Arlen (arranged I believe by Tom Poster), with gentle double-stopping providing some harmony, but the emphasis being on the beauty of the melodic line, delighting the Brighton audience.
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| Alice Farnham & the Brighton Philharmonic Orchestra © Nick Boston |




















