'A New World' - Brighton Philharmonic Orchestra kicks off their 101st season in style

Junyan Chen

Junyan Chen (piano)

Joanna MacGregor (conductor)

Brighton Philharmonic Orchestra

Ruth Rogers (leader)

2.45pm, Sunday 28 September

Dome Concert Hall, Brighton

★★★★

Rachmaninov, Sergei (1873-1943): Piano Concerto No. 3 in D minor, Op. 30

Encore: 

Gershwin, George (1898-1937): The Man I Love, arr. by ?

Ravel, Maurice (1875-1937): La Valse, poème chorégraphique pour orchestre

Bartók, Béla (1881-1945): Suite from The Miraculous Mandarin, Sz.73

Joanna MacGregor

After a cracking 100^th season, the Brighton Philharmonic Orchestra are back for their 101^st (my season preview is here),and there’s no sign of Joanna MacGregor letting up on the imaginative programming we’ve now come to expect. So whilst there was a big hitting concerto for the first concert of the new season, they went for Rachmaninov’s Piano Concerto No. 3 – popular of course, but not as well-known as the second. And rather than the usual overture-concerto-symphony sandwich, the Rachmaninov opened the concert, bold and up front, with Shanghai-born pianist Junyan Chen at the keyboard. A former pupil of MacGregor’s, Chen has performed with the BPO previously, and last year won not one but three prizes at the Leeds International Piano Competition, including the Silver Medal.

Right from the steadily rolling opening of the Rachmaninov, it was clear that Chen was in control here, setting the pace with incision and steering progress through the frequent rubatos at the ends of phrases. The orchestra were a little slower to get going, with a somewhat muted response, and MacGregor’s occasionally uncertain beat meant that in solo-free passages there were a few hesitant cadences. Woodwind solos were strong, however, with a particularly fine moment from the bassoon alone with the piano. Flute, oboe, clarinet and horn all got a chance towards the end of the movement, and all acquitted themselves well. The muted strings in the slow movement could have still had a little more weight in their sound, but their ensemble was tight, giving secure support to Chen’s swirling romantic solo. The movement’s conclusion was authoritative and arresting, with the finale following at a healthily steady pace. Once again, Chen drove the tempos, and apart from the odd uncertain pickup, the orchestra followed obediently. Chen demonstrated some particularly seductive, slinky playing here, with impressively virtuosic solo passages, and a glorious surge to the finish, here matched with a rich, full sound from the full orchestra. She then treated the appreciative Brighton audience to a sensual arrangement of Gershwin’s The Man I Love (possibly Art Tatum’s arrangement?), with its seductive outer thick chords beautifully contrasted with the brief vamping central section. Definitely a pianist to watch, and hopefully we’ll be treated to a return visit in Brighton sometime soon.

 

Junyan Chen & the Brighton Philharmonic Orchestra
© Nick Boston

Ravel’s La Valse is a wonderfully anarchic unravelling of the Viennese Waltz, originally intended as a ballet for Diaghilev. He turned it down, souring their relationship for good, even though Diaghilev acknowledged it as a musical masterpiece. As well as a reflection on the dying world of the waltz, was it also a comment on political decay in Europe, post-World War I? Well Ravel said not, but it is hard not to read some sense of the end of an era into his wildly evocative picture of the opulent ballrooms of Vienna gradually swirling out of control into chaos. MacGregor and the BPO gave us a suitably dark opening, with slithering glissandi from the violas and an ominous cor anglais solo. MacGregor steered through the frequent rubatos and Viennese holdups, although these felt occasional a little mechanical rather than fully felt. As things built to the inevitable climax, timing unravelled ever so slightly, and the seasick surges from the orchestra needed even more, but MacGregor punched through to a suitably wild finish. 
 

Joanna MacGregor & the Brighton Philharmonic Orchestra
© Nick Boston

Then came the most intriguing programming choice of the afternoon. Bartók’s The Miraculous Mandarin Suite is not performed as often as it should be, but when it is, at just over twenty minutes, it often appears as the warm-up act. But this densely imaginative and exciting score deserves more attention, and by ending their concert with it, the BPO were able to show off its dramatic and unsettling power. Described as a ‘pantomime ballet’, the original full work, with its shocking tale of tramps forcing a girl to entrap men so they could rob them, was in fact too shocking for audiences of the day, and it had to be withdrawn after its premiere. Bartók’s concert suite was however performed in his lifetime, perhaps because the ‘action’ now stops at the point when the mysterious Miraculous Mandarin, the tramps’ third victim, chases the girl, and avoids the ensuing failed attempts by the tramps to kill him, as well as his sexual union with the girl, before he finally dies. Nevertheless, the Suite still contains the darkness of the drama, right from the opening raucous cityscape to the chase scene, via the increasingly complex characterisations of the three victims, all portrayed via clarinet solos. MacGregor and the BPO were in their element for the opening bustling cacophony, with trombone car horns and swirling, whistling woodwinds. Principal clarintettist James Gilbert’s solos were full of the necessarily individual character, and with mournful turns from cor anglais and oboe, brittle col legno strings (hitting with the wood of the bow), trombone slides and glassy celesta combined with high flutes, they delivered much of the atmospheric detail of Bartók’s score with enthusiasm. MacGregor’s direction was also more confident throughout here, and the slowing up into the final finish was well judged, making for a thrilling conclusion to their assured performance of this exciting work. Once again, MacGregor and the BPO showed that taking risks with more adventurous programming choices pays dividends, as evidenced by another almost full and highly appreciative Brighton Dome audience.

CD Review - The Stradgrass Sessions - Tessa Lark

Kentucky born violinist Tessa Lark’s debut CD Fantasy in 2019 (my review here) combined her classical and folk roots admirably, but she has taken this further into American folk styles with her latest disc, The Stradgrass Sessions. She coined the term ‘Stradgrass’ back in 2015, when she was lucky enough to have a Stradivarius on loan for a few years, and was experimenting with playing bluegrass on the instrument. Moving on some years, on this disc, she combines some of her own compositions with those of other contemporary American composers, and she adds Eugène Ysaÿe’s (1858-1931) Sonata for Solo Violin No. 5 into the mix, along with three of Béla Bartók’s (1881-1945) 44 Duets for Two Violins, here recast for violin and mandolin, played by Sierra Hull (b.1991). But proceedings begin with Lark’s own Jig and Pop, a wild, moto perpetuo piece, with driving, obsessive minimalist rhythms. Incredibly fast, it has a quieter central section which dies away to a thrum, and finally halts. Hints of the motif then get things going again. This clearly sets Lark’s stall out in terms of energy and virtuosity, and it is followed by Sierra Hull’s Chasin’ Skies, a funky, jazz-infused joyful piece, originally written by Hull just for the mandolin, but clearly a great collaboration for both here, with wild virtuosity from both players. Lark follows with two more of her own fiddle tunes, Le Soka and Cheese in the Wine. The former takes inspiration from the opening line of Ravel’s Violin Sonata No. 2, with Lark swinging a melodic line with panache, whereas the latter has more of connection to Irish fiddle style. She then joins with Edgar Meyer (b.1960) for Meyer’s Concert Duo for Violin and Bass. Its gently lilting opening contrasts with the initial darkness of the bass, before the pace picks up. There are shiny, ethereal harmonise, echo effects and use of canon between the instruments. Copland-esque chords contrast with the wilder, virtuosic displays from both instruments. The second movement dives straight into rapid, shifting rhythms in unison melodies. The violin then takes up a two bar ostinato, while the bass gives wild flourishes, then the process is reversed, the violin taking over the virtuosity. Towards the end there is a fascinatingly unexpected polytonal section, almost like the instruments are unravelling, before they rejoin for the driving finish. Ysaÿe’s Sonata also has two movements, opening with L’Aurore (Dawn), where wispy signs of life move into sliding double stops, then increasingly widely spread rippling arpeggios lead to the energy and brightness of a blazing sunrise. The Danse rustique that follows begins with spread chlorides bringing out a melody, highly technically challenging, and it is a while before the dance really gets going, via lots of rhapsodic, fleeting gestures, but when it does, crazy virtuosic wildness takes hold and drives to the finish. Lark’s Hysedelje calms things down with a distinctly Nordic feel (despite the fact that she made up the title, with no apparent meaning), and its swinging rhythm is playful, right to Lark’s final ‘whoop’ to finish. Another collaboration follows, this time with fiddler Michael Cleveland (b.1980), in Lazy Katie, a gloriously energetic ‘twin fiddling’ display, with tight harmonies and fast rhythmic lines, exuding joy from beginning to end. John Corigliano’s (b.1938) STOMP follows, a competition test piece written for the 2011 International Tchaikovsky Competition. Complete with an opening theatrical train horn, non standard tuning and bluesy slides, it has moments of sad lament, before the horn returns and leads into wild stomping and scratching. The blues slows, still with added stomping, before a fast, crazy finish. In the Bartók, we have thrumming rhythms from the mandolin and a twisting violin melody in No. 35, with ethereal glassy effects on the violin before the finish. No. 39 has pizzicato on the violin matching the plucked mandolin, although the two instruments’ different timbres add an extra dimension to the gently lilting and nagging repetitions. No. 45 is a rapid swirling dance, with incredibly nimble playing from Hull on the mandolin, despite being less prominent in the texture. The disc closes with something much more contemplative and actually very touching. Lark collaborates again, this time with pianist Jon Batiste (b.1986), with their rhapsodic arrangement of Stephen Foster’s (1826-1864) My Old Kentucky Home. After a bright, high piano opening and violin harmonics, the melody emerges almost spontaneously, and the resulting exploration is conversational, with rich, evocative chords on the piano, and fragments of melody creating the sense of distant memories. Batiste gives a luxurious jazzy solo, before Lark joins again with nostalgic melodic lines. After a disc so full of energy and show, this is a bravely intimate conclusion to a fabulous showcase of Lark’s diverse talents.

Various. 2023. The Stradgrass Sessions. Tessa Lark, Sierra Hull, Edgar Meyer, Michael Cleveland, Jon Batiste. Compact Disc. First Hand Records FHR100.

CD Reviews - October 2021

The Duo Brüggen-Plank are the German pianist Henrike Brüggen, and the Austrian violinist, Marie Radauer-Plank. For their first recording with Audax, they have decided to place the last of Beethoven’s violin sonatas – the Sonata No. 10, Op. 96 – alongside a Sonata in the same key, Op. 5, composed by Jan Václav Hugo Voříšek (1791-1825). Twenty one years younger than Beethoven, Voříšek was one of the main candidates seen as successor in Vienna to the older man, although he actually died two years earlier than him at just 34 years old. Both works were dedicated to Archduke Rudolph of Austria (1788-1831), a great musical patron, and piano pupil of Beethoven, and the Duo also include a Sonata by him here too. The Beethoven Sonata is beautifully calm, yet no less challenging for that. The first movement is full of delicate conversation between the two instruments, and here, Radauer-Plank’s sweet tone is matched by beautifully warm and smooth runs in the piano part. Brüggen then gently opens the second movement with its hymn-like idea, with the violin joining in with a rocking countermelody. The instruments remain at rhythmic odds, and Radauer-Plank’s liquid playing is balanced well, with Brüggen avoiding getting bogged down by the thick textures. The brief Scherzo dances by, before the final set of variations on a cheerful theme. Here again, the Duo balance the textures well, with material passing back and forth between the instruments. In the fifth variation, the violin has throbbing chords over which the piano’s rhapsody is as if improvised, and Brüggen achieves this sense well, soon matched by Radauer-Plank as they swap roles. The Voříšek Sonata is very different in atmosphere, right from its mysterious, dramatic opening leading into a totally contrasting galloping Allegro. The movement is bright and melodically inventive, and Radauer-Plank is particularly sweet at the top of the range. An energetic, scampering Scherzo follows, with sudden halts and interesting rhythms. With hints of humour in the playful slow-up at the end of the middle section, the delicate, quiet conclusion is unexpected, swept away by final emphatic chords. The slow movement is somewhat unsettling, with low, gently pulsing rumbles from the piano, over which the lyrical violin melody rises serenely. The finale is perhaps where Voříšek’s weaker invention shows up the most – less melodically inventive, with expected harmonies on the whole – yet it brings proceedings to a fun conclusion overall. The Archduke’s Sonata again has a dark, turbulent opening, soon swept away by a virtuosic, ebullient Allegro, with a rippling piano part. There’s not a huge amount of imaginative development here, yet the Duo make the most here of the rapid exchange of ideas between the instruments. The slow movement that follows, however, is expressive and heartfelt, with freer invention and harmonies that rock back and forth. Brüggen’s piano textures are warm and rich here, and the Duo find a perfect nostalgic sweetness. The Minuet and its two Trios is playful if not particularly revolutionary, but the finale is great fun, with flourishes of fantasia-like piano episodes between returns of the punchy theme. The Duo set off at a pace, and play with great drive and energy, with some blistering playing from both in the final gallop. Ultimately, neither of these works can compete with Beethoven’s ethereal calmness, but they have much to offer nonetheless, especially given these highly engaging performances. 

Various. 2021. Sonatas for Violin and Piano - Beethoven, Voříšek, Archduke Rudolph of Austria. Duo Brüggen-Plank. Compact Disc. Audax Records ADX 13727.

The wonderful Doric String Quartet have joined forces with oboist Nicholas Daniel for a glorious collection of British Oboe Quintets. They open with Arnold Bax’s (1883-1953) Quintet. Like most of the works here, this was written for the great oboist Leon Goossens. After a warm string opening, the oboe launches into a winding, sensuous melodic line, and immediately the warmth and incredible smoothness of Daniel’s tone is apparent. After a more urgent central section, some magical muted string playing from the Dorics restores calm. The middle movement’s quiet, folk-like melody emerges on the violin over rich harmonies. The oboe eventually enters, darkly improvisatory, and with uneasy string textures, Daniel’s effortless birdlike melismatic lines soar. A joyful jig concludes proceedings, with oboe and violin taking turns, and the pizzicato strings having great fun here. The harmonies get darker and more unsettled, however, and calm is never quite convincingly restored, despite the flourish to finish. Next comes Gerald Finzi’s (1901-1956) single movement Interlude. This for me is the highlight here – Daniel and the Dorics capture perfectly Finzi’s darkly introspective and nostalgic mood, right from the atmospheric string opening. As with much of Finzi’s instrumental music, there is an expressiveness that occasionally breaks the surface with full passion, but the lid always goes back on, and the players judge this perfectly here, allowing the music to ebb and flow. The final pulsing bars under the high sustained violin are enchanting. For somewhat lighter relief, they follow this with Vaughan Williams’ (1872-1958) Six Studies in English Folksong, originally for cello and piano, but here in Robert Stanton’s 1983 arrangement for cor anglais and string quartet. All using original folksong tunes, they allow Daniel to shine on the mellow cor anglais, and by and large, the strings play a supporting role. Aside from the last of the set, they are all quite leisurely, with Vaughan Williams’ trademark strolling rhythms. Daniel plays with an open simplicity, allowing the tunes to speak for themselves, before they all then play with the final spiky jig, before even that dies away to nothing. Then to Arthur Bliss’ (1891-1975) Oboe Quintet. An intriguingly mysterious violin duet sets the tone for a darkly uneasy opening movement. After an intense, faster central section, jittery violin textures and the winding inflections of the oboe add to the sense of unease. In the slow movement, Daniel’s long sustained oboe lines are incredibly even, all the more impressive given the slithery string chords shifting beneath. Tremolo strings then increase the intensity as the harmonies darken, and following a folksy interruption with strumming cello, peace returns for a quiet ending. The finale by contrast has immediate driving string energy, and the oboe picks up the pecking, virtuosic material as they lead into the jig – Connelly’s Jig to be specific. The playful dance is dovetailed with the darker opening energy, and the Dorics give an edge to their string playing as things get wilder, almost chaotic. After a brief quieter section with pizzicato strings and fragments of melody passed around, there is a frenetic coda to finish, topped by a spiky flourish from the oboe. The disc concludes with two arrangements by Eric Fenby for Goossens of Two Interludes from Frederick Delius’ (1862-1934) final (and unsuccessful) opera, Fennimore and Gerda. Here, Daniel is privileged to play Goossens own instrument, and the tone here is noticeably different, with a warm quavering vibrato and open resonance. Both Interludes are gentle and expressive, with Daniel again demonstrating those lyrically expressive long lines, particularly in the serene second Interlude. All in all, this is a very special recording of some glorious music, and Daniel and the Doric String Quartet excel throughout.

Various. 2021. British Oboe Quintets. Nicholas Daniel, Doric String Quartet. Compact Disc. Chandos CHAN 20226.

Russian violinist Dmitry Smirnov has paired Bartók’s (1881-1945) Sonata for Solo Violin with Bach’s Partita No. 2 for his debut recording with First Hand Records. He has performed both works together live, interspersing the movements, but here they appear separately – although of course you could experiment with playing the tracks in a different order. There is a kind of logic to this – it’s hard for any solo violin sonata not to have some heritage line back to Bach, and Bartók’s opening movement, written in the style of a chaconne, although not strictly following its form, links with the final great Chaconne of Bach’s Partita. Bartók composed his Sonata for Yehudi Menuhin in 1944, and of course it is highly virtuosic, with fiendish scale passages, use of harmonics and rapid trilling. Smirnov is darkly evocative in the opening movement, with great dynamic contrasts, and an eerily quiet slither towards the movement’s conclusion. Dynamics are key in the second movement’s spiky fugue, and Smirnov expertly brings out the contrast between the different fugal lines. He then deftly winds the spooky melody of the third movement through the full range of the instrument, ending with wasp-like trilling, leading to the buzzing idea of the finale. This is contrasted with a more playful idea, and Smirnov changes the mood well for this, leading to the slightly incongruous solidly tonal conclusion. Smirnov’s Bach took me a little while to get used to, however. It is quick, especially the final Chaconne, and while you can’t argue with the incredible virtuosity he demonstrates, occasionally these rapid tempi lead to a tendency for elements to feel a little throwaway. The Sarabande, for example, has a lightness which misses a certain gravitas. However, his tone is smoothly resonant, and he brings out the melody from amongst the multiple stopped chords here. The overall approach is light, even playful, as in his delicate ornamentation in the Allemande. Again, he brings that lightness to the final mammoth Chaconne. As a result, it doesn’t have the profundity of some performances, and yet the mesmerizing arpeggios and whirlwind runs are highly impressive, and it is a refreshing contrast to many weightier interpretations out there. He then concludes his disc with a Sonata for Solo Violin by the Swiss composer Hansheinz Schneeberger (1926-2019), with whom Smirnov studied in his final years. Schneeberger was a highly successful violinist, and he premiered Bartók’s Violin Concerto No. 1, as well as recording Bach’s Solo Sonatas & Partitas. So there is a clear line here, and one can hear the influence of both composers in his Sonata here. Following a cadenza-like emphatic opening, the highly virtuosic material winds and twists, with some highly lyrical moments too – Smirnov’s tone here is beautifully sweet. Throughout the work, chromatic ideas slide, defying harmonic clarity, and yet there are also occasional flashes of diatonic brilliance, particularly in the central Allegro. The final movement’s constant movement is given a flowing energy by Smirnov, and he judges well the increasing pauses in motion towards the end, as if the whole thing is winding down, to the final major cadence. An effective work, performed here with great precision and virtuosity, bringing Smirnov’s display to a strong conclusion.

Various. 2021. Bartók, J. S. Bach, Schneeberger. Dmitry Smirnov. First Hand Records. FHR117.

 

(Edited versions of these reviews first appeared in Scene, October 2021)

 

Lewes Chamber Music Festival 6-8 June 2019

The Lewes Chamber Music Festival enters its 8th year, running from Thursday 6 to Saturday 8 June 2019.  

The festival was founded by violinist Beatrice Philips, who continues in the role of Artistic Director.  This year, the festival presents 'Fauré and Friends', with music by Fauré of course, but also Ravel, Leckeu, Français, Debussy, Bizet and Saint-Saëns, with Beethoven, Mozart, Messiaen and Bartók too.

In seven concerts spread over the three days, a great lineup of artists perform some masterpieces of the chamber repertoire, such as Fauré's Piano Quintet No. 1 and Mozart's Clarinet Quintet (Friday 7, 6pm), and Bartók's String Quartet No. 6 (Saturday 8, 7.30pm).  But there are also plenty of lesser known gems on the programme too, such as the Piano Quartet by Belgian composer Guillaume Lekeu, who died tragically aged just 24 (Friday 7, 6pm).  There's a lighter lunchtime programme of short works, including The Swan from Saint-Saëns' Carnival of the Animals, and Bizet's Jeux d'enfants for four hands (Friday 7, 12.30pm), and a Saturday morning coffee concert including Debussy, Beethoven and a String Trio by Jean Françaix (Saturday 8, 11am).

Venues: St John sub Castro Church, Lewes (except Saturday's coffee concert, which is at All Saints Centre, Lewes).

Tickets and more information here

Artists:

Violin: Tim Crawford, Katharine Gowers, Venetia Jollands, Beatrice Philips, Maria Włoszczcowska 

Viola: James Boyd, Adam Newman, Hannah Shaw 

Cello: Vashti Hunter, Tim Posner, Hannah Sloane 

Piano: Alasdair Beatson, Bengt Forsberg 

Clarinet: Matt Hunt 

Flute: Adam Walker 

Harp: Hugh Webb 

Soprano: Raphaela Papadakis 

Three Bartók concertos for the price of one: Capuçon, Eötvös and the BBCSO in Monte-Carlo

Renaud Capuçon, Péter Eötvös & BBCSO,
© Alain Hanel 

Renaud Capon (violin)
BBC Symphony Orchestra
Péter Eötvös (conductor)

Sunday 31 March, 2019

Salle des Princes, Grimaldi Forum, Monte-Carlo

Festival Printemps des Arts de Monte-Carlo

★★★★

Bartók, Béla (1881-1945): Concerto for Violin No. 1, Sz 36 (BB 48a)
                                          Concerto for Orchestra, Sz 116 (BB 123)
                                          Concerto for Violin No. 2 Sz 112 (BB 117)

Renaud Capuçon, Péter Eötvös & BBCSO, 
© Alain Hanel

'Capuçon was highly convincing, confidently supported by Eötvös and the BBCSO'.

'The BBCSO players were on strong form throughout, with a rich string sound in particular'.

'Eötvös also paced the frequent tempi changes here with great care'.

'Capuçon’s performance was captivatingly mobile and physical'.

Read my full review on Bachtrack here.

Effortlessly high-class Schubert and Brahms from Grosvenor and friends

Credit: Sophia Adams

Benjamin Grosvenor (piano)
Hyeyoon Park (violin)
Timothy Ridout (viola)
Kian Soltani (cello)
Leon Bosch (double bass)

Tuesday 29 May 

Queen Elizabeth Hall, London

★★★★

Brahms: Piano Quartet No. 1 in G minor, Op. 25

Bartók: Rhapsody No. 1 for violin and piano, Sz.87

Schubert: Piano Trio in E flat major, D897 (Notturno)

Schubert: Piano Quintet in A major, D667 (Trout)

© Patrick Allen/Opera Omnia

Brahms: 

'Ridout and Soltani took evident pleasure in their lyrical duet, and Grosvenor dashed off his brief cadenza with a flourish, before an exhilarating race to the finish'.

Bartók:

'A strongly assured performance ... Park’s performance was virtuosically impressive, but inward-looking'.

Schubert Notturno:

'A wonderfully warm performance full of late summer evening languor tinged with sadness and loss'.

Schubert Trout:

'By the finale, that sense of joy and fun was all-pervading, yet detail was not forgotten'.

Grosvenor 'is to be heartily congratulated for bringing together such a wonderfully effortless evening of high-class music making'.

Read my full review on Bachtrack here.

Stimulating programming and powerful performances from Lawrence Power, the Philharmonia and Gustavo Gimeno

Gustavo Gimeno (© Marco Borggreve)

Gustavo Gimeno (conductor)
Lawrence Power (viola)

Philharmonia Orchestra

Thursday 1 June 2017

Royal Festival Hall, London

★★★★



Ligeti: Concerto Românesc

Salonen: Pentatonic Etude for Solo Viola

Bartók: Viola Concerto, Sz 120

Mahler: Symphony No. 1 in D major, 'Titan'

Ligeti: 'Gimeno elicited energy and spark from the Philharmonia players, as well as many commanding solos'.

Salonen: 'Power communicated with great conviction, proving a strong advocate for this striking miniature'.

Bartók: 'Power maintained the level of intensity (...) communicating constantly with Gimeno and the orchestral players'.

Mahler: A 'tightly controlled performance, with moments of great delicacy as well as power'.

Read my full review on Backtrack here.

Bartók with bite from Zimmermann; intense but restrained Shostakovich from Valčuha and the Philharmonia

© Harald Hoffmann/Hänssler Classic

Frank Peter Zimmermann (violin)
Juraj Valčuha (conductor)

Philharmonia Orchestra

Thursday 24 November, 2016

Royal Festival Hall, London

★★★




Bartók: Violin Concerto No. 2, Sz 112

Encore:
Rachmaninov: Prelude in G minor, Op. 23 No. 5 (trans. Ernst Schliephake)

Shostakovich: Symphony No. 8 in C minor, Op. 65


'Zimmermann showed exceptional command of the challenging and somewhat relentless demands that Bartók poses'.

'Zimmermann’s performance was energetic and full of bite, and he was constantly alive to the exchanges between the solo part and the orchestra'.

'Attention to detail and strong solo work from a number of the orchestra’s principals lifted the intensity of their performance'.

'Valčuha led the orchestra successfully through the extended journey of terror ..., if perhaps holding back on the extreme moments of violence'.




Read my full review on Backtrack here.

CD Reviews - February 2016

Two great French pianists, Jean-Efflam Bavouzet and François-Frédéric Guy, have teamed up to record three great piano transcriptions, all premiered in 1913.  The most well-known work here is Igor Stravinsky’s (1882-1971) radical Le Sacre de Printemps (The Rite of Spring), which famously caused a near-riot at its first performance in Paris.  The composer himself transcribed it quickly for piano with four hands, and following the work’s initial run of performances, it would have been in this transcribed version that people would have known the work, as the full version wasn’t performed again until after the First World War.  Inevitably there are losses of texture and detail when such a visceral orchestral work is transcribed, but there is also a metallic, mechanistic drive that is gained here, which adds a different flavour of early twentieth century modernism. The inflections of the wailing bassoon theme at the opening are obviously not possible, but the pounding rhythms have an additional sense of relentlessness, and at times their clinical precision is even more scary than in the orchestral version. They open the disc with Zoltán Kocsis’ transcription for two pianos of Béla Bartók’s (1881-1945) Two Pictures.  This is a work with rich Debussian harmonies and extensive use of glassy whole-tone scales, particularly in the opening movement, ‘In Full Flower’.  The atmospheric thick chordal textures build to an intense climax, with rippling whole-tone scales given extra sonority on the pianos. The following ‘Village Dance’ is jerky and spiky, and full of eastern melodic inflections and folk dance rhythms, which at times remind one of the incesant drumming in Le Sacre de Printemps (although Bartók’s work was composed first). The centrepiece of this disc is Debussy’s (1862-1918) Jeux, in a new transcription for two pianos by Bavouzet. This ballet score, for Diaghilev, and danced by Nijinsky, is about three young tennis players, one man and two women, who are all attracted to each other.  Bavouzet makes use of trills to get over the problem of sustaining lines, and somehow this adds to a sense of the fragile, tremulous emotions of supressed passion and jealousy. There is also flirty humour here, although some of the score’s characterisation, particularly the wind instruments, is missing. However, the clean piano detail brings a certain transparency, and both pianists play with great delicacy and precision. The twists and turns build in a swirling waltz to a climactic three-way kiss, before the dancers disappear into the night.

Various. 2015. Transcriptions for Two Pianists. Jean-Efflam Bavouzet, François-Frédéric Guy. Compact Disc. Chandos CHAN 10863.

Readers of a certain age may remember the original TV adaptation of Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy, and from that, a haunting Nunc Dimittis (by Geoffrey Burgon) sung by a boy treble.  Well, that treble, Paul Phoenix, became a successful tenor, singing with the The King Singers for 17 years.  He is now focussing on his solo career, as well as working with singers and choral groups around the world.  He released a short album before Christmas, and although some of the tracks have a definite Christmas theme, I thought it still worthwhile to highlight it here, as it provides a good insight into the range of this versatile singer. That Nunc Dimittis opens the disc, obviously now with tenor voice, and immediately Phoenix’s warm, even tone is evidenced here. It is followed by a Pie Jesu setting by John Brunning (well known as a Classic FM presenter for many years), allowing Phoenix to show off his clear higher registers with some double tracked vocals, against some rich (if a little predictable) harp and string orchestrations. The first Christmas track, Child of the Stable’s Secret Birth, by Thomas Hewitt Jones, wears its heart on its sleeve, and reminded me of the work of Howard Goodall.  Phoenix is joined here by soprano Andrea Haines, whose crystal voice adds interest to the straightforward tune.  For my favourite track on the album, Phoenix is joined by the a cappella quintet, Apollo5 for MLK, Bob Chilcott’s arrangement of the U2 lullaby in honour of Martin Luther King, which The King Singers have sung for many years.  Here, the blend between Phoenix and Apollo5 is perfect, and they enjoy the rich harmonies.  This is followed by another a capella piece with Apollo5, the traditional Russian folksong, Oh You Wide Steppe, arranged by Alexander Levine. Phoenix again demonstrates a bell-like, pure upper register, and the rich choral textures are built up and layered as the song develops. Apollo5 are let loose on their own in a beautiful arrangement by Barnaby Smith of the Coventry Carol, and the disc ends with another unashamedly Christmassy Hewitt Jones number, On Christmas Night.  For me, the strongest works here are the Nunc Dimittis and the a capella numbers, and I look forward to hearing more solo work from Phoenix.  Definitely worth a listen, even if it’s no longer Christmas!

Various. 2015. Journey. Paul Phoenix, Apollo5. Compact Disc. Edition Peters Sounds EPS 002.

Brothers Paul Watkins (cello) and Huw Watkins (piano) continue their exploration of lesser known works with their fourth volume of British Works for Cello and Piano.  We have here a Partita by Kenneth Leighton (1929-1988), Constants by Elisabeth Lutyens (1906-1983), and Sonatas by Alun Hoddinott (1929-2008) and Sir Richard Rodney Bennett (1936-2012). Leighton’s Partita beings with an Elegy, which has a winding, angular theme which is exchanged between the cello and piano, who largely operate independently here.  It is followed by an energetic, syncopated Scherzo, and then comes a set of Theme and Variations, longer than the two previous movements together, and here the piano comes more to the fore, with ringing sonorities, particularly in the fourth variation.  Lutyens’ Constants is less immediately accessible, and Lutyens used her own form of notation to indicate lengths of nots, and cues between the instruments.  She creates a mysterious sound-world here, which is very striking, and requires some particularly delicate and very quiet playing from the cello. It ends with some wailing two-note cries from the cello, which was an apparent reference to the sudden death of her husband Edward.  Welsh composer Hoddinott’s Sonata (his second for the instruments) begins with almost simplistic writing, the cello often in conversation with the piano playing open octaves. There is great use of melodic line for the cello in the slow movement, and the finale brings back early music, and the conversational style of the opening movement. Richard Rodney Bennett’s Sonata is my favourite of the works on offer here.  There is a fluidity to his bouncy, mercurial opening movement, and the muted cello in the second movement brings lighter textures, before the Bartók-like scherzo and the virtuosic final set of variations. Cellist and pianist demonstrate strong command throughout, and Paul Watkins’ variety of tone is impressive.

Various. 2015. British Works for Cello and Piano, Volume 4. Paul Watkins, Huw Watkins. Compact Disc. Chandos CHAN 10862.

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