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| Jaeden Izik-Dzurko © Wigmore Hall/Darius Weinberg |
Jaeden Izik-Dzurko (piano)
7.30pm, Monday 15 December, 2025
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| Jaeden Izik-Dzurko © Wigmore Hall/Darius Weinberg |
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| Joanna MacGregor & the Brighton Philharmonic Orchestra © Sarah-Lousie Burns |

Alise Siliņa, Joanna MacGregor
& the Brighton Philharmonic Orchestra
© Sarah-Louise Burns
‘A Fairytale Christmas’, a programme of orchestral music for Christmas from the Brighton Philharmonic Orchestra – can you guess what might have been on the programme? Well, true to Music Director Joanna MacGregor’s imaginative programming form, apart from Tchaikovsky’s The Nutcracker Suite, it’s unlikely that anyone would have guessed, or possibly even have recognised the other three works on offer today. If it was designed to bring in more families and children to the audience, then that certainly worked, as there were noticeably more youngsters and even toddlers in the Dome concert hall. Having said that, I’m not sure the programme was quite attractive enough to maintain young attention spans, beyond the interest of the accordion and The Nutcracker Suite at the end.
Delius’ unfamiliar tone poem Eventyr, or Once Upon a Time, opened the programme. Composed in 1917, it’s fair to say it’s not secured a footing in the repertoire, so it was great that the BPO gave it an airing, with support from the Delius Trust. Eventyr actually means Adventure, and the inspiration here was Norwegian folk tales – whilst a possible Christmas meal to tempt the trolls and hobgoblins is mentioned in Delius’ description, the Yuletide connection is limited, with the focus more on the mysterious creatures who need to be won over by hunters to ensure good luck. The music is suitably atmospheric, with a watery harp, tinkling celesta, glockenspiel and xylophone all providing delicate colour, and the BPO gave us a relatively committed performance, although Delius’ subtle orchestration was perhaps not enough to captivate the younger members of the audience, and noises off meant a few pickups from the orchestra were consequently a little distracted and tentative. It would be good to hear the work performed again on a less festive programme to fully appreciate its atmospheric colour.
This was followed by Fairy Tales: A Concerto for Accordion, by the Czech composer Václav Trojan (1907-1983). Trojan was best known for his many scores for animated films in the 1940s and 50s, and this suite of seven short movements certainly has a filmic, often cartoon-like feel. The star here was the young Latvian accordionist, Alise Siliņa, currently studying for her Master’s at the Royal Academy of Music. The work allowed her to demonstrate the range of the lightly amplified instrument, from lyrical, wistful melodic lines in The Sleepy Princess, to playfulness in The Magic Box, and virtuosic display in The Naughty Roundabout. This movement and the next, The Sailor and the Enchanted Accordion, had pleasantly swaying waltz rhythms, with the latter more dreamily bluesy in places. The finale, The Acrobatic Fairy Tale was full of circus tumbling, almost like a cartoon chase, all building to a fun, swirling finish. Siliņa played with character throughout, and was well supported by the orchestra, with some particularly atmospheric cor anglais solos, although the work surprisingly doesn’t foreground the accordion as much as one might expect. Siliņa then treated the audience to a highly engaging solo encore, a touchingly wistful melodic line following a darkly lilting opening, and here we could really hear her command of the instrument.
Ukranian-born Thomas de Hartmann (1885-1956) is better known to me for his connection to his spiritual teacher, George Gurdjieff, many of whose works de Hartmann transcribed for piano, forming some four volumes of sacred inspired hymns and rituals. Influenced by Gurdjieff’s mystic ‘Fourth Way’ spirituality, de Hartmann and his wife were closely entwined with Gurdjieff and other follows for many years, and this music has a meditative, ethereal quality. The work on today’s programme, Koliadky: Noëls Ukraniens, Op. 60, is much more closely linked to Ukranian folk culture, although de Hartmann stressed that he was influenced by folk tunes, rather than drawing directly on traditional melodies. Having been performed in 1946, it is thought that today’s performance may have been its second ever in the UK. The opening Chant spirituel began with a cello solo, who was then joined by the strings for a haunting hymn, its Ukranian roots also sounding reminiscent of Vaughan Williams’ modal harmonies. Next, a bouncy quartet for cor anglais, clarinets and bassoon, Viens, Koladá, viens, followed by a dark, slow dance from horns, oboes and bassoons to herald Les rois mages (The Three Wise Men). This is a fascinating work, with such short glimpses of colour from de Hartmann that you are definitely left wanting more, from Górecki/Pärt tinged moments for low strings against violins, to thick brass and ringing bells, and a lively dance, Goussak (Gander Dance) as a brief finale. Thanks to Joanna MacGregor for bringing it to our attention, and to the BPO for presenting it so convincingly.

Joanna MacGregor & the BPO
© Nick Boston
And so to the popular Christmas highlight, Tchaikovsky’s The Nutcracker Suite. Unfortunately the attention spans of some of the children in the audience had long since waned, so sadly some had now left before the piece on the programme that would have surely most grabbed their attention. But those that remained clearly enjoyed the lively and familiar tunes, with some particularly spirited conducting from one young girl in the front row of the circle during the Waltz of the Flowers. The BPO delivered it all with enthusiasm, although ensemble was occasionally a little shaky, with MacGregor not quite martialling the accelerando in the Chinese Dance, and some untidy rapid scales in the Dance of the Mirlitons. A few intonation issues in the outer first violins in the Miniature Overture, and some rather rustic brass in the March all pointed towards perhaps more rehearsal time being dedicated, understandably, to the three unfamiliar works on the programme. This left the Tchaikovsky to rely on familiarity, which was a pity. That being said, it was a joyful enough performance, and a hit with the audience to end the afternoon.
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| Beth Taylor, Edward Gardner & the London Philharmonic Orchestra © Mark Allan Photography |
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| Joanna MacGregor & the BPO strings © Frances Marshall |
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| Ruth Rogers leading the BPO strings © Frances Marshall |
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.
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| Die Rheinnixen © Craig Fuller |
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| Owain Gwynfryn (Conrad) © Craig Fuller |
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| Jessica Cale (Bobbie), Henna Mun (Phyllis) & Matthew McKinney (Peter) © Glyndebourne Productions Ltd/Richard Hubert Smith |
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| Gavan Ring (Mr Perks) & Chorus © Glyndebourne Productions Ltd/Richard Hubert Smith |
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| Jessica Cale (Bobbie) & Ensemble © Glyndebourne Productions Ltd/Richard Hubert Smith |
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| The Railway Children - full cast © Glyndebourne Productions Ltd/Richard Hubert Smith |
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.