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Khatia Buniatishvili & the Academy of St Martin in the Fields © Nick Boston |
Wednesday, 11 December 2024
Highly individual Mozart from Buniatishvili
Thursday, 30 May 2024
Deeply expressive, virtuosic cello sonatas from Sheku and Isata Kanneh-Mason
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Sheku and Isata Kanneh-Mason © James Hole |
Felix Mendelssohn (1809-1947): Cello Sonata No. 1 in B flat major, Op. 45
Ludwig van Beethoven (1770-1827): Cello Sonata No. 5 in D major, Op. 102 No. 2
Gabriel Fauré (1845-1924): Cello Sonata No. 1 in D minor, Op. 109
Frédéric Chopin (1810-1849): Cello Sonata in G minor, Op. 65
Encore:
Chopin: Largo from Cello Sonata in G minor, Op. 65
Sheku & Isata Kanneh-Mason
© Nick Boston
Beethoven:
'From the funereal opening, with Isata’s low soft chords and Sheku’s long sustained line, right through to the final falling harmonies and low cello notes to end, they showed remarkable sensitivity in this typically profound late Beethovenian statement'.
Fauré:
'Sheku and Isata passed the melodic fragments back and forth, with some deft pedalling from Isata in the central movement in particular to avoid muddying the line among the rich textures'.
Chopin:
'... it was the sad, lyrical Largo that sat at the heart of this performance, Sheku and Isata at their expressive best, each seamlessly taking the baton of sustained melody from the other'.
Isata & Sheku Kanneh-Mason
© Nick Boston
'This was an impressive evening from two rapidly maturing performers, not afraid to bring chamber music to audiences more familiar with more standard virtuosic concerto displays'.
Read my full review on Bachtrack here.
Tuesday, 23 January 2024
Energetic Scottish Symphony lifts a weighty evening of the Schumanns and Mendelssohns
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Natalia Ponomarchuk © Alina Harmash |
Alexander Melnikov (piano)
Natalia Ponomarchuk (conductor)
Fanny Hensel, née Mendelssohn (1805-1847): Overture in C major
Clara Schumann (1819-1896): Piano Concerto in A minor, Op. 7
Robert Schumann (1810-1856): Introduction and Allegro for piano and orchestra, Op. 134
Felix Mendelssohn (1809-1847): Symphonhy No. 3 in A minor (Scottish)
Fanny Hensel:
'The LPO's violins responded to the horn’s quiet opening with lyricism, although their pick-up following the introduction was a little imprecise'.
Clara Schumann:
'Melnikov was most at home in the lyrically rhapsodic slow movement, joined by guest principal cellist, Waynne Kwon, beautifully complementing Melnikov’s lyricism with warmth and depth'.
Robert Schumann:
'Melnikov’s chromatic scales swirled and the orchestra surged appropriately in response. He was assured in the delicate intricate passagework, but occasionally, in the more bombastic moments, attention to detail was surprisingly matter of fact, with more than a few imprecisions creeping in'.
Felix Mendelssohn:
'Here the LPO winds came into their own, with a flowing clarinet opening and fizzing articulation from them all, complemented well by the joyful string filigree passages'.
'Once at full pelt, Ponomarchuk elicited rich and expressive drama. The finale had immediate attack, and the fugal sections here were tight. Clarinet and bassoon gave a delightfully expressive duet, and then the transformed ‘Holyrood’ delivered stately grandeur, with glorious horns to finish'.
Read my full review on Bachtrack here.
Friday, 20 May 2022
Singing melodies and rapid-fire showmanship from Alexei Grynyuk in Brighton
Monday, 9 May 2022
CD Reviews - May 2022
Following on from their two volumes of Felix Mendelssohn’s String Quartets, the Doric String Quartet are now joined by Timothy Ridout (viola) for a disc of his String Quintets. Mendelssohn wrote just two of these, going with the viola added to string quartet combination, favoured by Mozart and Brahms, as opposed to adding a cello, which Boccherini and Schubert did. Mendelssohn’s String Quintet No. 1, composed when he was 17, came hot on the heels of the successful premiere of his glorious Octet. Ever the reviser, it was another five years before he published both. Its opening movement has a leisured warmth, with only brief hints of darker moods in its development, before it gently dances to a quiet ending. The Intermezzo, with its singing melodic idea is sensitive and elegiac. Intensity builds over warm lower strings, with the rhythmic pace of the throbbing repeated figure increasing. It never feels totally settled, despite its calm ending. We’re in ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’ territory in the Scherzo, with skittering fairy music led off by the first viola. The players here give this precision and clarity, yet avoid it becoming too dry, and there is some dramatic scraping from the cello, not holding back from a harshly biting timbre. Yet once again, the movement disappears into nothing. Whilst not quite reaching the heights of exuberance of the Octet, the finale is full of joyful energy, set up by its lively triplet upbeat. Alex Redington on first violin shines in the rippling runs, and sings over the rumbling lower instruments. Energy levels ramp up and up, leading to the joyous conclusion. The String Quintet No. 2 came some 18 or so years later, with much of the same sense of energy but perhaps less of the unfettered joyfulness of his youthful works. The opening movement has an athletic first violin part over a tremolo accompaniment. The whirling triplet rhythms mean there is always a sense of movement, and these drive on, becoming more insistent, building to a full-on emphatic conclusion. In the dancing, lilting staccato of the second movement, once again the players here avoid it becoming to picky, maintaining a sense of the melodic material and the dance in an masterclass of control. But it is the intense pathos of the slow movement – essentially a funeral march – that is most striking about this work. From a darkly pianissimo opening, cello scales rise and a slow relentless march emerges. There are drum-like battering effects, and heartfelt laments from the violins. A nostalgic A major melody provides some temporary relief, but it is short-lived, and the agitation of the march increases. Yet Mendelssohn can’t leave us totally in the dark, as the movement suddenly turns at the end to a triumphant D major, before subsiding into a gentle, calm end. The finale, perhaps a little incongruously after the deep intensity of the previous movement, bursts forth with a jolly, energetic theme. This theme provides most of the material here, and its contrapuntal development perhaps loses a little direction at times, but Mendelssohn eventually pulls everything to a suitably emphatic close. Throughout these fascinating and underperformed works, the Doric String Quartet and Ridout are alive to the Mendessohnian flashes of joy and energy, yet they are also alert to the finer detail. They know when to provide warmth, but also when to give edge to their sound too. Highly recommended.
Arc I is the first of a series of three recordings by American pianist Orion Weiss. This first album features three works from the years 1911-1913. Weiss describes the trajectory of the series as like an inverted rainbow, and this first volume’s ‘steps here head downhill, beginning from hope and proceeding down to despair’. We’ll have to wait for the next disc to see things reach their lowest before renewal and rebirth are promised in the final volume. So here we begin with Enrique Granados’ (1867-1916) Goyescas, Op. 11, a Romantic masterpiece of invention. From the warmly expressive, watery cascades of the opening movement ‘Los reuiebros’ (Flattery), through to the macabre, stuttering dance of the final ‘Epilogo: Serenata del espectro’ (Epilogue: Serenade of the Ghost), this monumental and atmospheric suite is full of Granados’ extravagantly ornamented and improvisatory virtuosity. Weiss is commanding in the frenzied, passionate outbursts in ‘El Amor y la Muerte – Balada’ (Love and death – Ballade), but equally delicate in the nightingale’s song of the fifth movement. There’s a skip in his step in the moments of courting in the opening movement, and he ends the suite with ominous tolling bells before disappearing with a final mercurial wisp. Leoš Janáček’s (1854-1928) In the Mists follows – a shorter suite, and more introspective than the Granados. There are typical Janáček chromatic twists and turns in the melodies, and his motif of death, the falling minor third, features large. Weiss captures particularly well the claustrophobic, suppressed passion of the final movement, which breaks out with melismatic, singing outbursts and increasing intensity, before defeat in its dark sombre conclusion. Weiss ends with Alexander Scriabin’s (1871-1915) Piano Sonata No. 9, Op. 68, ‘Black Mass’. Full of ‘satanic’ tri-tones and chromaticism, begins hopeful but descends into darkness and despair, and Weiss makes the low rumblings and persistent trilling effects feel chillingly ominous. There is a real sense of the second, more hopeful melodic idea insistently writhing as if trying to escape, before being ultimately subsumed into a frightening march. This is an impressive display from Weiss, and sadly speaks to current anxieties and a sense of despair. Arc II promises to take us to the lowest point of grief and loss, but hopefully Arc II will bring us some hope for the future – much needed at present.
(Edited versions of these reviews first appeared in Scene, May 2022)
Tuesday, 31 August 2021
A joy to behold: Evgeny Kissin on a roll at the Salzburg Festival
Saturday 14 August 2021
Alban Berg (1885-1935): Piano Sonata No. 1
Tikhon Khrennikov (1913-2007): Dance, Op. 5 No. 3
Five Pieces for Piano, Op. 2
George Gershwin (1898-1937): Three Preludes
Frédéric Chopin (1810-1849): Nocturne in B major, Op. 62 No. 1
Impromptu No. 1 in A flat major, Op. 29
Impromptu No. 2 in F sharp major, Op. 36
Impromptu No. 3 in G flat major, Op. 51
Scherzo No. 1 in B minor, Op. 20
Polonaise in A flat major, ‘Heroic’, Op. 53
Encores:
Felix Mendelssohn (1809-1847): ‘Duetto’, Songs Without Words Op. 38 No. 6
Evgeny Kissin (b.1971): Dodecaphonic Tango, from Four Piano Pieces, Op. 1
Frédéric Chopin (1810-1849): Scherzo No. 2 in B flat minor, Op. 31
Claude Debussy (1862-1918): Suite bergamasque, L.75 No. 3, ‘Claire de lune’
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Evgeny Kissin © Salzburg Festival/Marco Borelli |
Tuesday, 2 March 2021
Light at the end of the tunnel from Elena Urioste and Aurora principals at Kings Place
Friday, 11 December 2020
CD Reviews - December 2020
I’ve been following the work of composer Cheryl Frances-Hoad (b.1980) for a number of years now, and it was a great delight to explore her latest disc of recordings of some of her chamber works, entitled ‘The Whole Earth Dances’. The title belongs to a work commissioned by The Schubert Ensemble, and in fact this recording was their last as a group before they disbanded in 2018. Inspired by the simple experiences of walking in her local park, but also by the importance of taking notice of nature in a time when it under such threat, it is a single expansive movement for the same musical forces as Schubert’s Trout Quintet (piano, violin, viola, cello, double bass). Full of long sustained string chords, with delicate piano commentary in places, the movement alternates between lively, spiky ‘thistles’ and gentler, unfurling ‘ferns’ (references to two Ted Hughes poems that also influenced here). And there is hope in the positively consonant, sudden C major ending. There’s so much on this disc, nine works in all, for varied chamber forces, and many different performers, it’s hard to do justice here to all of this. Cloud Movements for clarinet, violin and piano again makes use of slow-moving chords to evoke drifting clouds, but there’s also lyricism here, particularly in the central movement. Flanking that central movement are two dancing canons, the first in three parts, and the faster moving second in four parts, increasing the rhythmic complexity, creating unsettling cross-rhythms as the clouds pass and partially obscure one another. Two works for cello and piano follow. Songs and Dances is full of passion and lyricism for the cello in particular, but also there are strangely moth-like high, glassy flutterings, and a surprising folk-like dancing melody in the central movement. There are brief moments of peace, but the final lament is dominated by heartfelt anguish, and ends in nothingness. This leads beautifully into The Prophecy, where that sense of anguish is taken to a new level. Frances-Hoad was influenced here by quotes from people experience schizophrenia, and there is definitely a sense of mental struggle here. Again, the piece begins out of nothing, almost inaudible initially, and the strange slides from the cello build to a terrifying world, full of quotes of the Dies Irae chant. The cello emerges at one point with a higher, more lyrical melody, but the insistent piano doesn’t give up, with the Dies Irae almost screaming through at one point. This is an incredibly virtuosic piece for both players, and Rebecca Gilliver (cello) and Sophia Rahman (piano) give an outstanding performance. Towards the end, the cello cries out with a strange vibrating screech, and then a kind of unsettling calm is reached at the end, with occasional stabs from the piano punctuation an exhausted cello solo.Then for something completely different - Game On, a work for piano and Commodore 64 computer. In this, Frances-Hoad takes sounds from a 1987 puzzle game, X0R, and uses these to create a fascinating soundworld, exploring game theory, robots taking over the world, and ultimately, destruction of humanity - so not a cheery piece! In the first movement, Nash, we’re in the world of game theory, and a sense of uneasy equilibrium, where the piano matches and works around the incessant computer sounds, with nobody really getting anywhere as a result. In Robots will Rule the World, we enter the soundworld of Dr Who (the BBC Radiophonic Workshop), the theremin and ondes martenots, with weird lasers and ‘vaporising’ sounds - what starts out as maybe a conversation between piano and computer definitely becomes a battle - and the title gives the clue as to who wins. In the final Lament, the minimalist repeating patterns of the computer contrast with the melody that emerges on the piano, and then gradually the computer patterns stutter, jam and stick - like an irregular heartbeat, or ultimately the sound of flatlining - so who’s died, the robots or us? There is a chilling sense of panic here, despite the slightly comic origins of a 1980s gaming computer. Three more works round off the collection. First, a lop-sided, quirkily accented Mazurka for violin and piano. Then comes Medea for solo flute, a dramatic monologue of long sustained notes and pauses, interrupted by moments of impassioned activity full of flutters and trills, evoking Medea’s battle between emotion and decision. Finally, a work for string quartet, My Day in Hell, inspired by Dante’s Divine Comedy. The complex organisation of numbers of circles and groups in that work dominates Frances-Hoad’s calculations of structure, rhythm and even melody, and the angular melodic material, downward slides and richly dissonant chords definitely create a sense of being trapped in circles within circles. I’m always struck in Frances-Hoad’s music by how, despite some common devices, such as the contrast between slow, long chords and spikier rhythmic movement, with great use of pregnant pauses, the atmospheres evoked are incredibly varied and individual to each piece. I’ve focussed on the music itself here, but all the performers deserve praise here - there is some challenging music, and all the players do great justice to Frances-Hoad’s fascinating and often virtuosic demands.
Joël Marosi (cello) and Esther Walker (piano) have brought together on one disc all the works for cello and piano composed by brother and sister, Felix Mendelssohn (1809-1847) and Fanny Mendelssohn (1805-1847). This amounts to two Sonatas, a set of Variations Concertante, and a couple of miniatures from Felix, and two single movement works from Fanny. Many of the pieces were written with their cellist younger brother, Paul. Felix’s first Sonata has a real youthful urgency in the opening movement, with slight yearning in the second subject. Walker manages to produce a bright tone despite the driving repeated chords and thick textures of the piano part, and Marosi brings out that yearning as well as a virtuosic display to finish. He really gets the chance to sing out in the second movement’s lyrical central section, and the sense of rapid drive returns in the finale, with more turbulent sections, and a dramatic climax with flourishes particularly for the piano. Both players here produce the requisite drama, but also manage the piece’s quiet ending, with delicate lyricism from the cello over a gently rippling piano. The Song without Words that follows is warm and lyrical, with a delicate piano part, and Marosi delivers this with a heartfelt simplicity, and an understated sense of urgency in the central section. The single movement Assai tranquillo, possibly incomplete, has a pleasing melody passed from cello to piano, with the cello then weaving in and out of the piano’s presentation of the tune. The Variations concertantes draw on a humble, hymn-like tune, and encompass eight variations, sharing out the virtuosic moments between instruments reasonably equally, if anything favouring the pianist. The two players here exploit their moments well, and bring out effectively the more dramatic moments, such as in the seventh’s declamatory cadenza-like statement, although there could be a little more tempo differentiation between the fastervariations. Turning to sister Fanny, we then have a Fantasia, with a beautifully romantic melody presented fist on the piano, with the cello emerging from a low accompaniment to take over the melody. There is plenty of opportunity for Marosi to sing here, particularly in the slower arioso section. The quiet ending might suggest this is somewhat slight, but the melodic invention and use of repeated chords in the accompaniment are very pleasing. Similarly, in her Capriccio, lyrical melodies are passed between the instruments, with the piano leading off on a faster central section, with emphatic fanfare-like statements from the cello. Once again, the movement winds down to a quiet finish. We return to Felix for the remainder of the recording, with his Sonata No. 2. The two players bound into the opening movement, with its striding cello theme and joyful energy and drive throughout. The piano introduces the second movement’s hesitant melody, repeated pizzicato by the cello, with delicately ringing grace notes from Marosi here. The piano is in charge of the slow movement to begin with, with an arpeggiated chorale, given rich tone here by Walker. The cello joins with a lyrical melody on top, and gradually takes over direction of proceedings, with the piano receding into the background, before stealing back the lyrical melody at the end. The piano launches the finale, with an immediately racing, virtuosic delivery. The cello occasionally takes over the virtuosic runs, but the piano is in charge here. Walker and Marosi never let up with the driving rhythmic energy, right to the dramatic explosive climax, before the dynamics drop down leaving quiet, rippling exchanges to end the piece.In Louis Lortie’s sixth volume of Chopin works, we have the Hommage à Mozart Op. 2, the two Op. 40 Polonaises and the Fantasie Op. 49, interspersed with sixteen of the Mazurkas. Lortie’s Mazurkas are full of character, with great attention to articulation and dynamics. From the Op. 6 set, he gives the first a wonderful halting lilt, and its falling chromatic progressions have a silky darkness. The folk-like drones and eastern-infused melodic inflections in the second are seductively accentuated by Lortie’s rubato. The third and fourth are brief gems, the former with its light droning and lively theme, and the latter with its fleeting off-kilter accents, all of which Lortie brings out well. A second set of four, Op. 24 follow, with a lyrical, more waltz-like affair to begin with, contrasting beautifully with the stomping off-beat rhythms of the second. The third has pauses in almost every phrase, and Lortie shapes and times these with delicate poise, as he does the chromatic clashes and dramatic swirls of the last of the set. The Hommage à Mozart opens with a lengthy rhapsodic introduction, with hints of Mozart’s theme, ‘Là ci darem la mano’, and Lortie delivers this with suitable grandeur and virtuosic command. The theme is then finally presented more straightforwardly, followed by a brilliant set of variations, with increasingly extreme demands on the pianist’s virtuosity. Lortie dashes this off with impressive ease, and then exploits the dark drama of the operatic Adagio variation to the full, with an electric Alla Polacca to finish. Back to Mazurkas next, and the
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Louis Lortie © Hiroyuki Ito for The New York Times |
Op. 67 set. The simple dance of the first is followed by the touching, nostalgic second – again Lortie demonstrating wonderfully his ability to achieve such contrasting moods with subtle dynamic inflections and halting rubato. That nostalgic mood continues in the third, a gently swirling dance, and the darkly expressive fourth. The two Polonaises, Op. 40, especially the first, the ‘Military’, are by nature emphatic and weighty, but this can be easily overdone in the first, rendering it a shouty affairs. Here, Lortie certainly provides weight, but with precise articulation and full use of the range of dynamics he avoids the bombast. The second is full of brooding darkness, and Lortie brings this out, as well as the wistful melancholy of the lyrical central section. A final set of Mazurkas, the Op. 41 with the first drawing invention from just a few notes, and the second evoking strumming guitars in its opening chords. The third is simple and graceful, whereas the final Mazurka of the set is the most substantial and dramatic. Once again, Lortie captures the extraordinary variety of moods like a chameleon. The Op. 49 Fantasie concludes the disc, with its funereal march launching an explosion of improvisatory explorations. Lortie is definitely let loose here, although despite the extremes of virtuosity, that sense of subtle changing moods is never lost.
Tuesday, 29 September 2020
Spirited Mendelssohn without frills from the English Chamber Orchestra
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© English Chamber Orchestra |
Stephanie Gonley (violin)
David Juritz (violin)
Michael Gurevich (violin)
Katerina Nazarova (violin)
Roger Chase (viola)
Lydia Lowndes-Northcott (viola)
Lionel Handy (cello)
Jonathan Ayling (cello)
Sunday 27 September, 4pm
Beckenham Place Mansion, London
(reviewed from online stream)
★★★
Alexander Borodin (1833-1887): String Sextet in D minor
Felix Mendelssohn (1809-1847): Octet in E flat major, Op. 20
'A spirited performance of Mendelssohn’s joyous Octet, with an appetiser of Borodin’s incomplete String Sextet'.
Borodin:
'A warm performance'.
Mendelssohn:
'Mendelssohn's proto-Midsummer Night's Dream Scherzo had a light touch, taken at an energetic lick'.
'The group’s enthusiasm was evident, building to the movement’s glorious climax and a joyous flourish to finish'.
Read my full review on Bachtrack here.