Showing posts with label Delius. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Delius. Show all posts

Tuesday, 9 December 2025

'A Fairytale Christmas' - the Brighton Philharmonic Orchestra combine a Christmas favourite with unfamiliar treats

Joanna MacGregor &
the Brighton Philharmonic Orchestra
© Sarah-Lousie Burns

Alise Siliņa (accordion)
Joanna MacGregor (conductor)
Ruth Rogers (leader) 

2.45pm, Sunday 7 December 2025


Delius, Frederick (1862-1934): Eventyr (Once Upon a Time)
Trojan, Václav (1907-1983): Fairy Tales: A Concerto for Accordion
Encore: unnamed
de Hartmann, Thomas (1885-1956): Koliadky: Noëls Ukrainiens, Op. 60
Tchaikovsky, Pyotr Ilyich (1840-1893): The Nutcracker Suite, Op. 71a






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. 


Alise Siliņa
© Nick Boston

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.

Tuesday, 28 February 2023

CD Reviews - February 2023

John Wilson is back with the Sinfonia of London with a great new disc to follow up on their acclaimed 2021 recording of English String Music. This time, alongside two stalwarts of the repertoire, Vaughan Williams’ (1872-1958) Fantasia on a Theme by Thomas Tallis, and Elgar’s (1857-1934) Introduction & Allegro for strings, are the sorely overlooked Concerto for String Orchestra by Herbert Howells (1892-1983), and a delightful gem, Late Swallows, by Frederick Delius (1862-1934). As with previous recordings, the Sinfonia of London string sound is rich, and the Chandos recording is equally full of depth. Wilson is precise and always clear as a bell, never allowing for any wallowing in the often thick textures of these works for strings. Vaughan Williams’ Fantasia has beautiful shimmering moments, but accents are strong, almost violent in places. Tempi are driven – Wilson never hangs about, avoiding the forementioned wallowing, so this is a less relaxed performance than some, but that brings out the precision and complexity of Vaughan Williams’ layered writing all the more. Wilson and the players give full weight when needed, but also exploit the contrasts between the three groupings – string quartet, and two orchestral ensembles, small and large. Their Elgar is similarly driven, right from the strident, energetic opening, yet the viola, immediately warm in contrast, has great emotional weight. This captures a key element of Wilson’s approach, always contrasting almost clinical precision and momentum with passion and emotional impact in the right places. Some recordings of this music achieve one or the other, but rarely both. The climaxes are quick – and the cold, spiky fugue builds to a phenomenal frenzy, with a thrilling race to the finish. Late Swallows is actually an arrangement by Eric Fenby (suggested by Barbirolli) of the slow movement from his String Quartet. It perhaps lacks the drama and contrasts of the other works here, but it is full of beautifully evocative swoops and dives, given lush expression here by the Sinfonia of London strings. Howells’ orchestral works have never achieved the same level of recognition as his choral works, which is a pity, as he clearly knew how to write for orchestral forces. He set out to write his Concerto for String Orchestra as a tribute to Elgar who had recently died, but he also then suffered the loss of his own nine-year-old son, and the resulting dedication of the work was to them both. He even said of the slow movement, ‘
it was inspired by the countryside between the Malverns and the Cotswolds, and by two people – one old and one young – who knew and loved that part of England’. Yet the opening movement is strident, even harsh, with bursts of energy throughout, contrasting with a plaintive, slower central section. That central slow movement is definitely full of soulful yearning, with the passion increasing to pleading cries in places. So here, as before, Wilson delivers the emotional impact when it’s required, whilst maintaining the overall sense of direction of the work. The final movement launches off, immediately strident and angular once again, yet this is also full of contrasts, with jazzy rhythms, lighter, more plaintive moments, and urgent chords bringing things to a sudden conclusion. As with the Elgar, which clearly inspired Howells, the solo viola features strongly throughout, successfully providing a thread tying the work together. This recording is worth attention purely for the Howells, but lively and energetic readings of the Elgar & Vaughan Williams, and the Delius rarity, make this another strong release all round for Wilson and the Sinfonia of London.


The ensemble ZRI take their name from Zum Roten Igel, the 19th century Vienna coffee house that was a hub for many composers, such as Brahms and Schubert, but also many folk and gypsy musicians of the time, creating a musical melting pot of influences and ideas. Here, in  Cellar Sessions, the five-piece ensemble, consisting of clarinet (Ben Harlan), violin (Max Baillie), cello (Matthew Sharp), accordion (Jon Banks) and santouri (a member of the dulcimer family) (Iris Pissaride), have embraced this idea of melding together classical repertoire with gypsy and folk material, but bringing that up to the present day, adding contemporary pop influences such as Donna Summer, Taylor Swift and Solange into the mix. This works remarkably well, with playful, dancing works such as Tokay by George Boulanger (1893-1958), and the swinging Horă din Budești by Aurel Gore (1928-1989), both Romanian violinists and arrangers, sitting alongside the ensemble’s take on classical works. They give a gloriously mysterious rendition of Schubert’s ethereal Andante from the Piano Trio No. 3, with a wonderful santouri introduction giving a nod to his nickname as the ‘Knight of the Cimbalom’, due to his fascination for Hungarian traditional music. From this introduction, Schubert’s slow movement emerges out of a gently pulsing rhythm, with burbling clarinet and sweet violin capturing the intensity of the original, and following some improvisatory exploration by the clarinet, low cello rumblings herald the return of the haunting sadness of the santouri. The Presto from Bach’s Violin Sonata No. 1 receives the ZRI treatment too, with the clarinet swinging the cross rhythms over gentle plucking from strings, building to some great rippling flourishes from the clarinet. Donna Summer’s I Feel Love opens with a bouncing accordion, but it’s the cello that sets up the iconic driving rhythm, whilst ethereal violin harmonics take on the melodic line. This all builds to a crazy clarinet riff, before a gradual fade. Taylor Swist’s Shake it Off is combined with a klezmer melody Lebedik un Freylach by Abe Schwartz (1881-1963), from a mournfully atmospheric beginning through to a racing, dancing conclusion. Matthew Sharp even gives us an expressive, cabaret-style baritone for Jay Gorney’s (1896-1990) Brother can you spare a dime?, with a shimmering accompaniment developing into swinging jazz. Brahms makes an indirect appearance, in the form of Isteni Csárdás by Miska Borzó (1800-1864), itself no doubt drawn from an older Hungarian tune, but better known to us now from Brahms’ Hungarian Dance No. 1, here full of the tune’s wildness and virtuosic energy in ZRI’s interpretation. They end with a delicate tango, Rote Rosen by Helmut Ritter (1907-1988), full of gentle nostalgia, before fading off into the distance. Overall, an extremely clever and inventive collection of repertoire, performed with joy and spirit throughout.

 

Greek-born pianist Alexandra Papastefanou studied in Moscow, Budapest and the US, and has had lessons from Alfred Brendel. She has performed all of Bach’s keyboard works, and recorded most of them too. Here she brings us a collection of transcriptions – so we’re immediately moving beyond the issue of performing his keyboard works on a modern piano, as here we have a trio sonata, chorales and cantatas, all in her own transcriptions, apart from Myra Hess’ famous arrangement of Jesus bleibet meine Freude (‘Jesu, joy of man’s desiring’), with which she ends her recording. Along the way, there are a couple of surprises too, with Papastefanou adding her own jazzy variation on top of her transcription of the chorale Allein Gott in der Höh sei Her, calling her addition appropriately Playing (with) Bach. The bouncy repeated figures here are effective, with the increasingly clashing harmonies providing an unusual counterpoint. We also get A Tribute to Bill Evans combined with An Wasserflussen Babylon (which also gives the album its title, Tears from Babylon). Here, she draws on Evans’ Peace Piece, with her own extemporisations entwined with the chorale melody in a particularly effective way, making this in fact the disc’s highlight for me. The Trio Sonata No. 5, BWV 529’s opening Allegro is clean, bright and lively, whilst the Largo that follows is tender and expressive. Papastefanou captures these contrasts throughout the recording, with joyful spirit for Sei Lob und Preis mit Ehren, carefully bringing out the chorale melody from within the busy moving textures, whilst using a softer, more expressive tone for the Aria, Meine Seufzer, meine Tränen. The plodding bass line for Gott hat alles wohlgemacht from BWV35 works well, as does the energetic Sinfonia from BWV18. Ending with Myra Hess’ transcription is a fitting tribute to all those that have gone before, transcribing and arranging Bach’s music, and Papastefanou’s rendition of Hess’ classic is captivating. Throughout this collection, Papastefanou captures the essence of Bach’s music, whilst taking us in some new and unexpected directions too. 



Bach, J. S./Papastefanou, A. Tears from Babylon: J. S. Bach Piano Transcriptions. Alexandra Papastefanou. Compact Disc. First Hand Records FHR141.

Monday, 1 August 2022

CD Reviews - August 2022

Baritone Roderick Williams has joined with the Coull Quartet for a wonderful new recording of works for voice and string quartet. Surprisingly, despite the centrality of the string quartet in the chamber repertoire, works that put this together with voice are relatively rare. At the centre of this disc is one of the most significant works, Samuel Barber's (1910-1981) 'Dover Beach'. Here it receives a gloriously atmospheric performance, from the mysterious opening from the strings through to its dark, almost desperate climax. Williams relishes in the word-painting, highlighting the expression on words like tremulous, slow and sadness. Williams has then arranged two other of Barber's songs here for string quartet accompaniment. This adds sensitive textures to 'Sleep Now', with a tender lullaby lilt in the strings, and disturbing interjections in the wintry central verse, with rumbles of unease remaining from the strings before the final peaceful cadence. 'Sure on this Shining Night', which lends its title to the disc, is full of soft and tender wonder, with gently pulsing strings, and a delicate violin countermelody winding its way around Williams' warm toned vocal line. Following the Barber is 'Tree Carols', a set of five songs by Sally Beamish (b. 1956). The poetry (by Fiona Sampson) is full of dark imagery, colour and emotion, with dark simplicity expressing loss in 'The trees are troubled', and high, bright lines evoking starlight and 'tree heaven' in 'The tree is a changing sky'. Writing specifically for Williams, Beamish exploits the ease and bright tone of his higher registers, and the bloom of his high lines in 'The Miracle Tree' which opens the set is contrasted wonderfully with the shimmering strings to create a sense of wonder. At the start of the disc, Williams is joined by soprano Sophie Bevan and tenor James Gilchrist for a collection of songs by Peter Warlock (1894-1930). Warlock is probably best known for his Capriol SuiteThe Curlew song cycle, or perhaps some of his boisterous drinking songs, but he wrote over 120 songs, as well as numerous choral pieces and works for voice and chamber ensembles. There are a couple of duets here. 'Corpus Christi' sees a soft-toned Williams paired with mellow warmth from Bevan, against darkly sliding harmonies from the Coull Quartet, and in 'Sorrow's Lullaby', Bevan is joined by Gilchrist, the two voices weaving with a violin line, strings muted throughout. Elsewhere, Gilchrist brings a light bounce to 'Chopcherry' and 'The Fairest May', and he floats lightly above the dancing strings in 'My lady is a pretty one'. Bevan shows clarity and impressive control in the melodic leaps to high notes in 'A Sad Song', and sweet simplicity in 'My little sweet darling'. Williams is gently lyrical in 'Mourn no moe' and suitably plaintive in 'Take, O take those lips away'. The disc ends with three more arrangements from Williams, this time of songs by Frederick Delius (1862-1934). In 'I-Brasil', the mystery of the mythical island is captured in the falling snap rhythmic figure, and Williams is suitably wistful in the sorrowful calls. The open fifths at the start of 'Twilight Fancies' sit particularly well with the strings here, sounding almost like horn calls, and Williams is atmospherically expressive above the rich string textures. The accompaniment for the final song, 'Young Venevil', is playful and imaginative with bird-like violins, and Williams places the melody delicately above, with some effortlessly light top Gs. This is a fascinating disc, offering some delightful repertoire with top notch performances from singers and players alike.

Various. 2022. On This Shining Night - Music for Voice and String Quartet. Roderick Williams, James Gilchrist, Sophie Bevan, Coull Quartet. Compact Disc. SOMM Recordings SOMMCD 0654.

In this short disc, Italian pianist Alberto Nones performs the three works by Frédéric Chopin (1810-1849) with Fantaisie in the title. Nones’ approach here is to somewhat strip away the virtuosic fireworks to reveal the precise detail that sometimes gets lost in more overtly showy performances. This is very evident in the fluid Fantasie-Impromptu, Op. 66. The outer sections certainly flow here, apart from occasional halts in the momentum, and there is no compromise of tempo. The central section, however, could flow more, as there is extensive pulling about of the tempo here. But every detail can be heard, and the final section, whilst not as fiery as some other performances, is certainly impressive. In Fantasie, Op. 49, Nones’ approach is perhaps more successful, with its gentle opening to the drama that unfolds in a somewhat matter of fact way. Nones gives weight where needed, but the chorale like sections have a gentle simplicity. Nones gives the Polonaise-Fantaisie, Op. 61, a more stately, expectant opening, bridging well the transition from the recit-like statements into the flowing dance that finally gets going. There is a lightness here that allows the dancing melody to sing out, and the build to the virtuosic conclusion is not rushed or obscured by excessive weight. So whilst these might not be definitive recordings of these work, there is much to be savoured here in Nones’ refreshingly unfussy playing, revealing fresh insights into familiar works. 


Chopin, F. 2022. Complete Fantasies. Alberto Nones. Compact Disc. Convivium Records CR074.


Somewhat slightly different territory for me now - another pianist recording with Convivium, but this time the Italian jazz pianist Matteo Bisbano Memmo. Clearly a highly virtuosic pianist, he demonstrates this with some astonishing playing in the first half of the disc, a selection of standards, with a number of arrangements from the extraordinary Art Tatum. Here, Bisbano shows no fear, with rippling fluidity and startling virtuosity in Charlie Mingus' 'Duke Ellington's Sound of Love', and the wild, fiendishly racing 'Tiger Rag'. There is some lightness of touch in 'Alfonsina Y El Mar', and softness in the rich chords of 'Yesterdays', but mostly the requirements of the extreme virtuosity does lead to a somewhat harshly percussive sound in places. However, in the second half of the disc, Bisbano moves to a selection of his own compositions, and the mood is completely different. The virtuosity is still evident, in the driving energy of the extended composition, 'Metalknife', for example, but there is also more dynamic variety in the lively, urban 'Smokey Stogie', and enigmatic, more lyrical writing in 'Rose'. He uses the open piano strings effectively at the mysterious start of 'Metalknife', and the atmospheric, slow-moving harmonies in 'Stardust Light' are highly effective. And what to finish with? Well, a cover of Metallica's 'Master of Puppets', of course. He captures the relentless drive and percussive hammering here, once again with highly virtuosic playing, but there are also moments of sudden delicacy in the brief lyrical interludes. Overall, this is an impressive display of virtuosic talent, but for me, it is in his more expressively varied own compositions that Bisbano's pianistic voice shines.


Various. 2022. Metalknife - Music for modern piano. Matteo Bisbano Memmo. Compact Disc. Convivium Records CR066.


(Edited versions of these reviews first appeared in Scene, August 2022) 

Monday, 25 October 2021

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)

 

Wednesday, 5 May 2021

Spring has Sprung: a taste of live concerts to come from Paul McCreesh and the RNS

Paul McCreesh (conductor)

7.30pm Friday 30 April 2021
Streamed live at sagegateshead.com

Sage One, Gateshead




Frederick Delius (1862-1934): On Hearing the First Cuckoo in Spring

Thea Musgrave (b.1928) (arr. by Martyn Brabbins (b.1959)): Green

Ralph Vaughan Williams (1872-1958): The Lark Ascending

Robert Schumann (1810-1856): Symphony No. 1 in B flat major, Op. 38, 'Spring'

Maria Włoszczowska
© Royal Northern Sinfonia
Delius:
'The clarinet’s cuckoo was not overstated, emerging naturally from the textures, and the string sound was warm without excess weight'.

Musgrave:
'From a glassy, atmospheric opening to the frenzied intense climax, the RNS string players were in their element, with strong solo work and powerful contrasts between the lyrical and the harsher effects'.

Vaughan Williams:
'Włoszczowska’s playing ... was easy and relaxed, and the winding figures rising to the first high melodic statement were natural and effortless, with a singing, pure tone at the top'.

Royal Northern Sinfonia
© Royal Northern Sinfonia
Schumann:
'The Finale was the strongest movement here, with dancing energy, (and) precise articulation and detail from the strings'.

'“Spring in full bloom” ..., with bright brass and an emphatic finish'.   

Read my full review on Bachtrack here.


Saturday, 24 February 2018

Lupo’s Ravel with Mena & the LPO steals the show from The Rite of Spring

Benedetto Lupo (© Carlo Cofano)

Juanjo Mena (conductor)



Wednesday 21 February 2018






Debussy (orch. Büsser): Printemps: Symphonic Suite

Ravel: Piano Concerto for the Left Hand

Delius: Idylle de Printemps

Stravinsky: The Rite of Spring

Juanjo Mena
Debussy: 'The final 'burst of joy' ..., with Mena almost leaping off the podium, made for a great start to the evening'.

Ravel:  (Lupo) 'balanced the virtuosic challenges, covering the full extent of the keyboard with Ravel’s skilfully lyrical writing for the piano'.

'Effortlessly natural, making this the stand out performance of the evening'.

Stravinsky: 'Mena is a joy to watch, and the final abrupt ending was truly exciting'.

Read my full review on Bachtrack here.

Thursday, 7 July 2016

CD Reviews - July 2016

Ensemble Diderot, lead by Johannes Pramsohler, have completed a project begun by the great Reinhard Goebel with Musica Antiqua Köln (who disbanded in 2007). Goebel & MAK recorded six of Johann Friedrich Meister’s (c1638-1697) twelve Trio Sonatas, ‘Il Giardino del piacere’ as their final enterprise, and Goebel himself asked Pramsohler and the Ensemble Diderot to record the final six.  All the Sonatas have multiple, relatively short movements, based on dance forms, but Meister was one of the first, if not the first German composer to take the prevailing style of Lully and others and move the music away from the ‘danceable’ forms to what became Ars combinatoria. So the French and Italian styles were developed and combined, creating a more intellectual ‘art music’. So whilst the Gigue in this ninth sonata has a real bounce, played by the Ensemble Diderot with lively spirit, it is no longer obviously a simple dance. The Corrente of the twelfth sonata has real rhythmic spice, with accented offbeats, and the Allemanda of the same piece has striking upbeats, all creating great interest and once again moving the form away from the expected. The Ensemble Diderot vary the textures too, with the harpsichord dropping out of the Sarabanda in the twelfth, leaving the cello to provide a walking bass line.  On the other hand, the harpsichord provides delicate touches to the seventh sonata’s Sarabanda, and the violins stylishly emphasise the offbeats in the first sonata’s Sarabanda, demonstrating the variety Meister creates in a seemingly homogenous choice of structure. The third sonata contains a beautiful Adagio, with the cello starting each phrase with long held notes over which the violins and harpsichord weave plangent cries – here cellist Gulrim Choi maintains a perfectly even, semplice sound for the others to work off. The Fuga movements are often brief, but allow for great interplay between the two violins, particularly noticeable in the seventh sonata. These are exquisite sonatas, and from the performances here, it was easy to see how much the players have taken this music to heart.




Sergei Prokofiev’s (1891-1953) three Piano Sonatas, Nos. 6, 7 and 8 were completed between 1940 and 1944, although he had begun work in 1939, and they are perhaps understandably collectively known as the ‘War Sonatas’ (although when he composed the first of these, the Soviet Union were still to enter the war).  Prokofiev didn’t necessarily conceive them to be performed as a trilogy, but there are clear links between them, both in specific detail such as the ‘fate’ motif which crops up in all three, but also in emotional depth and content, and world events of the time are never far from one’s mind when hearing them.  There is a consistent mood of conflict here, never fully resolved, with moments of highly disturbing tension.  Even in the more romantic calm of the 8th Sonata, fate is still present, although perhaps there is a hint of happier thoughts, given that Prokofiev dedicated this sonata to Mira Mendelssohn, for who he left his first wife and family in 1939.  Peter Donohoe gives the slow movement in particular of this sonata full lyricism and weighty emotion.  In total contrast, his finale of the 7th Sonata is truly exciting and he gives the incessant repeated notes real energy and drive.  Yet it is in the 6th Sonata’s slow movement that Donohoe achieves the most disturbing combination of moments of surface lyricism over dark, ominous harmonies, before showing total command in the relentless toccata-like finale.  There is a darkness throughout these works that is sometimes lost in performances that focus purely on the virtuosic demands – of which there are many – and Donohoe is able to fully exploit the complex undercurrents of these great works. Donohoe recorded the 7th Sonata a staggering 33 years ago, and then again with the other two War Sonatas in 1991, and these performances were acclaimed at the time.  So he has clearly lived with these sonatas for a long time, and having recorded the other six sonatas in two previous volumes, it is perhaps significant that he has saved the War Sonatas for last in this highly authoritative complete cycle.


Violinist Tasmin Little has brought three little known works for violin and orchestra by English composers to her latest recording with Sir Andrew Davis and the BBC Philharmonic.  First comes the lyrical Concerto, Op. 80 by Samuel Coleridge-Taylor (1875-1912).  Born in London to a male medical student from Sierra Leone and an English woman, he trained as a violinist and composer from an early age at the Royal College of Music, but in his latter years became successful in the US, where he was rather dubiously dubbed ‘the black Mahler’ on account of his impressive conducting.  His most successful work, Hiawatha’s Wedding Feast, was for many years a staple of British choral societies, yet little of the rest of his music is regularly performed today.  His first version of his Violin Concerto used a number of African-American melodies and spirituals, with a finale based on ‘Yankee Doodle’.  However, he changed his mind, completely rewriting the work using his own melodic material instead. A Dvořák-esque flavour remains, à la New World Symphony, but the touchingly lyrical slow movement has real inspiration. The finale is full of joy and spirit, and Little enjoys the syncopation and use of the violin’s upper reaches here.  Frederick Delius (1862-1934) composed his Suite for Violin and Orchestra in Paris around 1888, and its four movements have a beautiful simplicity in their individual characters.  An opening lyrical Pastorale is followed by a dancing Intermezzo. The song-like Élégie contains some lush brass writing, but this is basically a chance for the violin to sing in an unashamedly romantic fashion – and Little exploits this to the full.  The Finale has a rather conventional feel, with less of an individual Delius voice, but is not without interest. Finally, we have a Concerto from Haydn Wood (1882-1959).  Yorkshire born, he grew up on the Isle of Man, but like Coleridge-Taylor, studied the violin from an early age at the RCM, also studying composition with Stanford. Perhaps more famous for writing songs (eg. Roses of Picardy), musical comedies and light orchestral music, he nevertheless produced a small number of larger scale works, of which the Violin Concerto is one.  This is warm, romantic music, without any edge – yet with moments of deft touch in orchestration, such as the use of harp in the opening movement, and the exquisite horn solo at the beginning of the slow movement leading to the violin’s first entry.  Little is supported throughout by warm and sensitive playing from the BBC Philharmonic, Davis keeping tempi moving to avoid overindulgence.




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