Showing posts with label Stanford. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Stanford. Show all posts

Tuesday, 2 October 2018

CD Reviews - September 2018

Mezzo-soprano Sarah Connolly and pianist Joseph Middleton have recorded a wonderful selection of songs, covering 120 years of composers associated with the Royal College of Music, as teachers, students or both.  I heard them perform much of this repertoire in a lunchtime BBC Prom in August, and it was one of my concert highlights of the year so far (read my review here).  The title of the CD, ‘Come to Me in My Dreams’, comes from Frank Bridge’s (1879-1983) beautifully rhapsodic setting of Matthew Arnold’s text, with its bluesy piano opening, passionate swells and dramatic break on ‘truth’.  But the disc opens with a total gem, a touching miniature, ‘The Lost Nightingale’ by Muriel Herbert (1897-1984).  This is a stunning collection, by any standards, but what makes it exceptional is the strong sense of communication and commitment to the texts. From the tender sadness and dislocated syncopation of voice and piano in Ivor Gurney’s (1890-1937) ‘Thou didst delight my eyes’, to the tolling bells and beating heart of the repeated note in Arthur Somervell’s (1863-1937) ‘Into my heart an air that kills’, Connolly always delivers the texts with intensity and passion, without ever becoming mannered in delivery. Her soft, honeyed tone and delicate articulation of ‘drips, drips, drips’ in Stanford’s (1852-1924) ‘A soft day’ is particularly striking. In addition to Connolly’s phenomenal expressiveness and control, Middleton’s playing also deserves equal credit. His rippling watery accompaniment to Parry’s (1848-1918) ‘Weep you no more, sad fountains’ is a perfect example of the subtlety of his touch throughout. In addition to Benjamin Britten’s (1913-1976) set ‘A Charm of Lullabies’, we have ‘A Sweet Lullaby’ and ‘Somnus, the humble god’, two songs written for the set, but rejected by Britten, discovered by Connolly in the Britten-Pears Library, so world premiere recordings here. ‘A Sweet Lullaby’ combines a simple lilting rhythm with an undercurrent of unsettling harmonies, and the urgency of the darker undertone increases, such that the final wail leaves the ‘lullaby’ far from calm. ‘Somnus, the humble god’ is also dark, with its rumbling, rocking piano part and a final stanza likening sleep to death. Many songs here will be unfamiliar to many, but there are some real treasures here.  Cecil Armstrong Gibbs’ (1889-1960) ‘Sailing Homeward’ has a great dramatic arc in its two short minutes, and E. J. Moeran’s (1894-1940) ‘Twilight’ is full of achingly pastoral sadness and loss.  Rebecca Clarke’s (1886-1979) ‘The Cloths of Heaven’ is beautifully lyrical and Romantic, and Connolly’s smooth line is matched by soft textures from Middleton.  Michael Tippett’s (1905-1998) 'Songs for Ariel' are highly atmospheric, and Connolly relishes the drama and quirkiness of Tippett’s settings here. Mark-Anthony Turnage’s (b.1960) ‘Farewell’, written for Connolly, concludes the disc, with Turnage exploiting Connolly’s full range to convey the passion and directness of Stevie Smith’s text. Connolly sounds distraught, almost crazed, delivering the line ‘I loved you best’, contrasted with a beautifully relaxed, bell-like tone in the final ‘ding dongs’, against the high tinkling piano. A wonderful collection of English song, highly recommended.


I first came across lutenist Jadran Duncumb on his recording last year with violinist Johannes Pramsohler.  He now has his first solo recording out, focusing on Silvius Leopold Weiss (1687-1750), who also featured on that previous CD, and Johann Adolf Hasse (1699-1783).  Weiss was one of the most important composers of music for the lute, and was renowned for his technical ability on the instrument.  Hasse wrote a great deal of lute music for Weiss, who performed as a soloist with the Dresden orchestra, where Hasse was Kapellmeister.  Here, Duncumb performs two of Hasse’s Sonatas, although both of these have been transcribed from their original settings for harpsichord.  The Sonata in A major, dedicated to the daughter of Friedrich August II of Saxony, is a delightful two movement piece, and Duncumb has added back some of the detail in the sprightly Allegro that was removed in the original transcription. The Sonata in D minor by Weiss is an altogether more substantial work of Bach-like proportions, in six movements, and from its opening stately Allemande, through to the graceful Sarabande, and the fluid Allegro that ends the work, Duncumb makes this sound totally natural. In his notes, he argues that lutenist Weiss’ writing for the instrument comes alive in a way that Bach’s doesn’t quite, and in Duncumb’s hands this is certainly the case.  There is a lively energy and fluidity in his playing that never sounds difficult or awkward. He also includes a short but harmonically daring Prelude, and a joyous Passacaglia from Weiss to close the disc. Before that, another Sonata from Hasse, with some delightfully delicate Baroque sequences in its opening Allegro, and dancing Presto to finish. The recording is close and resonant, which does mean that one hears the occasional scraping of frets, but the ears soon get used to this, and the pay-off is a richness of tone that makes this a highly engaging debut solo recording from Duncumb. 


Barry Douglas (piano) combines Schubert’s (1797-1828) posthumous Piano Sonata D958 with the Six Moments Musicaux for the third volume of his collection of the composer’s works for solo piano.  He finishes off this volume with two of Liszt’s transcriptions of Schubert songs.  The Piano Sonata in C minor, D958 is the first of Schubert’s final three sonatas, written in the final months of his life.  It clearly has its roots in Beethoven, particularly in its dramatic, emphatic opening, but Schubert’s voice quickly emerges, especially in the beautifully poignant Adagio. Douglas delivers the required power and weight in the opening movement, and generally his approach emphasises the dramatic. However, his Adagio has delicacy and sensitive expression, if not going for quite the sense of transcendence here that say, Uchida, achieves.  His finale is powerfully agile, however, culminating in a thunderously emphatic conclusion. The Moments Musicaux are a set of character pieces, varying in style and from the brief, dancing third to the more substantial angst-ridden sixth. There are folk touches here and there, but ultimately, these are intimate ‘moments’, and Douglas gives them individual voices, from the delicate poise of No. 1 to the thundering insistence of No. 5. He ends this volume with two of Liszt’s transcriptions for piano of Schubert songs.  ‘Sei mir gegrüßt’ preserves the beautiful melodic line, but Liszt’s deft variation shifts the melody from the top to the middle of the texture, and resists the temptation to be overly virtuosic. ‘Auf dem Wasser zu singen’ does something similar, but Liszt adds beautifully pianistic textures, adding a new dimension to the song’s watery theme.  Another strong volume in Douglas’ ongoing Schubert cycle.

Schubert, F. 2018. Works for Solo Piano, Volume 3. Barry Douglas. Compact Disc. Chandos CHAN 10990.

(Edited versions of these reviews first appeared in GScene, September 2018)

Wednesday, 8 August 2018

Blissful daydreams on a hot afternoon: lullabies and dreams from Connolly and Middleton - Proms at ... Cadogan Hall 4

© Jan Capinski

Sarah Connolly (mezzo-soprano)

Monday 6 August, 2018
Cadogan Hall, London







Charles Villiers Stanford (1852-1924): A Sheaf of Songs from Leinster, Op. 140 - 'A soft day'
Hubert Parry (1848-1918): English Lyrics, Set 4 - 'Weep you no more, sad fountains'
Ralph Vaughan Williams (1872-1958): The House of Life - 'Love-Sight'
Ivor Gurney (1890-1937): Thou didst delight my eyes
Arthur Somervell (1863-1937): A Shropshire Lad - 'Into my heart an air that kills'
Frank Bridge (1879-1941): Come to me in my dreams
Herbert Howells (1892-1983): Goddess of Night
Frank Bridge: Journey's End
Benjamin Britten (1913-1976): A Sweet Lullaby
Benjamin Britten: Somnus, the humble god
Gustav Holst (1874-1934): Twelve Humbert Wolfe Songs, Op. 48 - 'Journey's End'
Benjamin Britten: A Charm of Lullabies, Op. 41
Lisa Illean (b.1983): Sleeplessness ... Sails
Mark-Anthony Turnage (b.1960): Farewell

'Connolly and Middleton held the audience’s interest ... through a strong sense of communication and commitment to the texts'.

'Connolly, in her Proms recital debut, and Middleton delivered their programme with assurance and conviction throughout'.

'Connolly always delivered the text with intensity and passion, without ever becoming mannered in delivery'.

Middleton:
'His rippling watery accompaniment to Parry’s Weep you no more, sad fountains, and the beautifully placed delicacy of the opening to Vaughan Williams’ Love-Sight are just two small examples of the subtlety of his touch throughout'.

Read my full review on Bachtrack here

Tuesday, 22 September 2015

The Tallis Scholars - 2000 concerts and counting!

© Eric Richmond

The Tallis Scholars
Peter Phillips (Director)

Taverner (c.1490-1545):    Leroy Kyrie
Sheppard (1515-1558):  Missa Cantate

Gabriel Jackson (b.1962):  Ave Dei patria filia
Byrd (c.1539-1623): Infelix ego
Ye Sacred Muses
Tribue Domine

Encores:
Tallis (c.1505-1585):  Miserere nostri
Stanford (1852-1924):  The Blue Bird

St John's Smith Square, 21 September 2015

«««««

© Albert Roosenburg
2000 concerts in 42 years – an impressive statistic by any standard. The Tallis Scholars, now performing at a rate of roughly 100 concerts a year, with their founding director, Peter Phillips, chose to celebrate their 2000th concert in relatively low key style, compared with their gala 40th anniversary year concert at St Paul’s a couple of years ago. No expanded forces for Spem in Alium this time, but their more standard line-up of just 12 voices – a suitable way to celebrate such an achievement of such regular and consistent live performance, perhaps. However, three works from that concert appeared on tonight’s programme (although one as an encore), appropriately reflecting The Tallis Scholars’ repertoire with Renaissance polyphony combined with a contemporary choral work from Gabriel Jackson.

But the first half of their concert was dominated by a performance of the mammoth Missa Cantate by John Sheppard (1515-1558). Little is known about the detail of Sheppard’s life and music, which goes only some way to explaining why his wonderful music is not performed as often as Tallis or Byrd, say. One reason why the Missa Cantate in particular is not so often performed is the incredible stamina required to sustain a complete live performance. The Tallis Scholars wisely took short breathers between sections, yet even then, this is a pretty relentless challenge for just 12 voices, 2 to a part, with pretty much no let up.  Needless to say, The Tallis Scholars showed themselves more than up to this challenge however.

They preceded the mass with Taverner’s (c.1490-1545) Leroy Kyrie, so called as it is believed the tune may have been composed by King Henry IV or V. Immediately we heard The Tallis Scholars’ trademark smooth blend and bell-like high sopranos, setting the seen for the Missa Cantate to follow. In the opening Gloria, after the initial entries, Sheppard weaves the lower voices in and out in an almost hypnotic fashion, and the melismatic writing for tu solus (‘thou alone’) is exquisite, with more animation for cum Sancto Spiritu, and a glorious build to the Amen. Sheppard works his way through the Credo using the six voice parts in varied combinations, but also uses unexpected harmonic shifts (such as at ‘caelis’) to keep listeners and performers on their toes. Phillips and The Tallis Scholars managed the ebb and flow of the music within the overall arc of the whole mass with impressive ease, and the serenity of the Sanctus setting was contrasted well with the emphatic Hosannas, ending with a calming Agnus Dei, the lower voices particularly smooth and silky here. Having reached the end, Phillips and The Tallis Scholars deservedly enjoyed the sudden false relation and ‘blue’ notes Sheppard throws in towards the final cadence.

© Joel Garthwaite
The Tallis Scholars commissioned two works to celebrate their 40th anniversary, one from Eric Whitacre, and the other from Gabriel Jackson, and both were premièred at their anniversary concert at St Paul’s two years ago. Jackson’s Ave Dei patris filia opens with a joyful ‘Ave’, with all voices swooping in birdlike fashion. The use of repeated turns, particularly in the higher voices, is a striking feature throughout the work. There is limited use of overt dissonance, really only obvious in the Ave plena gracia section, and its economical use here is all the more effective for it, with bright soprano lines in a tight interplay. Jackson also frequently sets a melismatic soprano line against staccato rhythms in the other voices. These rhythms are particularly playful and bouncy in the penultimate Ave virgo feta section, which builds wonderfully to a return of the opening swooping for the final glorious praise and amen. It was great to hear this wonderful piece performed again, especially with the detail articulated in a slightly less challenging acoustic than St Paul’s.

The remainder of the programme focussed on Byrd, with two monumental votive antiphon motets that share a great deal in form and style, despite being composed some 15 or so years apart. The structure of both is comparable, with broadly similar shapes to their sections, and they share Byrd’s unusual choice of transposed Lydian mode. They ended with Tribue Domine, the earlier work, but first came Infelix ego.  The text for this is a contemplation on Psalm 50 by the Italian priest Savonarola, written shortly before his execution. Understandably full of anguish and penitence, it is ultimately a plea for mercy, and Byrd mixes hefty sections of homophonic writing against a variety of polyphonic writing for varied combinations of the 6 parts. Yet this is a subtle setting – after total despair and the question ‘Despair?’, the answer, ‘Absit’ (I shall not) turns the priest’s focus to seeking pity and mercy, and Byrd makes this distinction clear.  The opening section from The Tallis Scholars here could have perhaps had more anguish, but the increasingly insistent pleas for mercy had real intensity, before the music subsides back to a more subservient penitence for the final words.

Before Tribue Domine, came Ye Sacred Muses, Byrd’s heartfelt elegy to Tallis, following his death in 1585. The final words, ‘Tallis is dead, and music dies’ merit perhaps a little more emotion than on display here, but this was nonetheless a respectfully sensitive yet firm performance.

The Tallis Scholars then closed the programme with Tribue Domine. As with Infelix ego, Byrd makes much use of varied part writing, but also a variety of dynamic textures, with animated entries at the opening contrasting smoother overlapping falling lines at the end of the first section, for example. The Gloria section is substantial, and the build to the final Amen proved a fitting end to this well constructed programme. 

Not one but two encores followed – first the brief yet achingly exquisite Miserere nostri from Tallis, and then, slightly out of left-field, Stanford’s Victorian gem, The Blue Bird, with the two top sopranos beautifully blended on the solo line.


With no sign of their schedule letting up in any way, the concert tally will no doubt continue to rise indefinitely, but tonight’s concert will certainly stand out as a landmark on the way towards their next milestone.  Happy 2000th!

Thursday, 12 December 2013

CD Reviews - December 2013


Sir Charles Villiers Stanford (1852-1924) was born in Dublin, but was one of the founding professors of the Royal College of Music in London at the age of 29.  However, his music has perhaps always been overshadowed by the success of his pupils, such as Holst and Vaughan Williams.  He left us with a considerable body of music, including seven symphonies, but it is perhaps for his choral music that he is best known.  Even within this repertoire, however, his sacred music is more well known than his many secular partsongs.  The Birmingham Conservatoire Chamber Choir, conducted by Paul Spicer, have released a disc of 25 of these part songs, and they demonstrate the great variety, and command of his choral writing, as well as his ability to use harmony and choral textures to illuminate a text.  On the disc, they have broken up the songs from their sets, which is a good idea, as the variety comes from the different texts and changes in Stanford’s style over the twenty years these songs span.  His settings of Mary Coleridge are the most interesting and successful, but he also set texts by Tennyson, May Byron and anonymous Elizabethan texts.  The most well-known of the partsongs, The Blue Bird, receives an accomplished performance here, with a crystal clear solo from Natalie Hyde.  The Swallow (lightly reflective) and The Haven (dark and atmospheric), two more Coleridge settings, are sensitively performed here.  A few of the songs feel very dated and time-bound now, not least the sycophantic hymn to Queen Victoria, Out in the Windy West.  However, Stanford also shows how far the format can be stretched, with ambitious double choir textures in On Time, similar in some ways to his well-known double-choir Magnificat.  The voices here are strong, full of energy and precision, and incredibly well-drilled.  Occasionally, the higher voices sound a little strident, and I miss the mellower tones that more mature voices would bring.  But these are highly accomplished performances, making this a great collection of Stanford’s partsongs, many not previously available on CD.


The Hickox Legacy series continues, with a rerelease includind three works by Benjamin Britten (1913-1976) - his Cantata misericordium, and two shorter works, Deus in adjutorium meum, and a Chorale after an Old French Carol.  These are sandwiched between the Requiem da camera by Gerald Finzi (1901-1956) and Two Psalms by Gustav Holst (1987-1934).  The great champion of English music, the late Richard Hickox, conducted the City of London Sinfonia, and The Britten Singers in these recordings from 1991.  Finzi's Requiem da camera, dedicated to his teacher who was killed in action in 1918, is as much of a protest against the pointless of war as Britten's later War Requiem, and deserves to be performed more.  Britten's Cantata misericordium came hot on the heels of his War Requiem, the success of which explains why this later work hasn’t achieved the same status.  Yet it follows the War Requiem remarkably well, being composed for a ceremony to commemorate the 100th anniversary of the Red Cross.   It receives a solid performance here, with John Mark Ainsley (tenor) and Stephen Varcoe (baritone) as soloists.  The two Holst Psalms which complete the disc, although well performed, seem slightly out of place in the company of Finzi & Britten's weightier, solemn works.


Finally, a disc of piano transcriptions of orchestral works by Frederick Delius (1862-1934).  Delius was born in Bradford, the son of German parents, but lived the latter part of his life in France, after a spell in the USA.  As such, his music shows the influence of both African-American and more significantly, French music, and later embraced a much more individual and chromatic style.  In the late 19th and early 20th centuries, the transcription of orchestral works for piano solo or duet had become very popular.  In the days before mass availability of recordings, this was often the only way people could ‘hear’ the works at home that they had perhaps heard performed in the concert hall, and domestic piano playing was a significant form of home entertainment.  In this second volume of transcriptions for two pianos, pianists Simon Callaghan and Hiroaki Takenouchi perform five works, all in transcriptions made by friends and fellow composers of Delius.  Paris – The Song of a Great City has a great feel of the cafés, dance halls and night clubs of Paris, jazz harmonies and rhythms mixed with lyrical, atmospheric nocturnal scene painting.  Summer Night on the River is the second of Two pieces for Small Orchestra, the first being the well-known On hearing the first Cuckoo in Spring.  Delius’ amenuensis, Eric Fenby said of this piece: ‘One can almost see the gnats and dragonflies darting over the waterlilies, and the faint white mist hovering over willow-tressed banks and overhanging trees’.  The arrangement by Philip Heseltine (otherwise known as the composer Peter Warlock) captures this idyllic scene perfectly.  The Song of the High Hills, for wordless chorus and large orchestra is a wonderful work, and Percy Grainger’s transcription inevitably cannot capture the magic of the incredibly quiet entry by the choir 10 minutes in, but nevertheless, it does manage to communicate the sense of joy and wonder in nature.  Overall, these are fascinating takes on the orchestral works, and the range of colours and textures achieved by the two pianists here in these delightful performances is highly impressive.

Friday, 5 April 2013

CD Reviews - April 2013


Jacques Ibert (1890-1962) was born in Paris, won the Prix de Rome at the Paris Conservatoire in 1919, and was destined for great things.  Perhaps because his musical style was highly eclectic, with a tendency for lightness and humour, he is not remembered as one of the ‘greats’, despite a vast catalogue of ballets, operas, film music (including Invitation to the Dance with Gene Kelly) and a considerable output of chamber music.  The Bridge String Quartet have been joined by friends to record an interesting selection of these chamber works, including a première recording of the Souvenir for quartet and double bass.  Ibert often collaborated with other composers, and this brief single movement work is a case in point, possibly based on music by August Gay.  The disc opens with his most substantial chamber work, the String Quartet.  This was composed through the Second World War, when his music was banned by the Vichy government, and he was exiled to Switzerland.  Whilst not explicitly reflecting the times, there is a restless anxiety in this music.  Other gems in this collection include the brief but striking Ghirlarzana for solo cello, sensitively played by Lucy Wilding, and a delightful Trio for violin, cello and harp (with Bryn Lewis on the harp here).  Ibert’s daughter was a celebrated harpist, and he wrote a number of works for the instrument – also included here is the well-known Entr’acte, which exists in a number of forms, but here is played by violin and harp.  If Ibert is new to you, or if you only know his well-known orchestral Divertissement, then this disc is definitely worth exploration.


Clarinettist Michael Collins seems to be churning out recordings at a phenomenal rate, all of interesting repertoire and with playing of an incredibly high standard.  His new disc of British Clarinet Concertos is no exception.  The three works on offer here are by Sir Charles Villiers Stanford (1852-1924), Gerald Finzi (1901-1956) and Sir Malcom Arnold (1921-2006).  The works span 72 years, from 1902 (Stanford) to 1974 (Arnold), with the Finzi smack in the middle (1948).  In the Stanford Clarinet Concerto, Op. 80, there are some beautiful melodies, particularly in the central slow movement, but the legacy of Brahms is very evident – but it receives a top-notch performance here, with Collins executing the not inconsiderable demands with panache.  The Finzi Concerto for Clarinet and String Orchestra, Op. 31 has more individuality for me, and is full of mournful lyricism and again some pleasing melodies, but the interest is in the contrast between the purely string orchestra and the solo clarinet, with surprising variety and richness in the string writing.  This is clearly a work close to Collins’ heart – he played it in the concerto final of the very first BBC Young Musician of the Year competition back in 1978.  Arnold’s Clarinet Concerto No. 2, Op. 115 was commissioned by the great Benny Goodman, and unsurprisingly contains many jazz influences, with a Cadenza in the first movement where the soloist is instructed to improvise ‘as jazzy and way-out as you please’.  Here, Collins plays a cadenza written by Sir Richard Rodney Bennett, who died recently.  So three highly contrasting works, all played expertly, with strong support from the BBC Symphony Orchestra, with Collins conducted from the clarinet. 


Juanjo Mena and the BBC Philharmonic have released a a great disc of orchestral works by Carl Maria von Weber (1786-1826), and are joined by bassonist Karen Geoghegan for a performance of his Bassoon Concerto.  The rest of the disc is given over to his two Symphonies, and the programme opens with Berlioz’s orchestration of Weber’s piano waltz, Invitation to the Dance.  The symphonies have never made it into the mainstream repertoire, which is perhaps a shame.  There are some great musical ideas here, and whilst both works lack a sense of real development of the material, there is some characteristically deft writing for wind instruments, particularly for the oboe and bassoon in the Allegro of the second symphony. The Bassoon Concerto deserves to be as well known as the clarinet concertos, and Geoghegan certainly argues its case well here.  As ever with her playing, she manages to bring out a remarkable lyrical line from an instrument perhaps sometimes stereotyped as a little cumbersome.  The Invitation to the Dance is a great showpiece, and Berlioz’s lively orchestration popularised the work beyond its solo piano beginnings.  The playing throughout on this disc is lively and sprightly, with particularly tight wind playing. 



Pianist Martin Helmchen has recorded a selection of solo works by Robert Schumann (1810-1856).  The two substantial collections here are the Waldszenen, and the 18 Symphonische Etüden, and he finishes the disc off with the Arabeske in C.  Whilst the Symphonic Etudes are more overtly virtuosic pieces, the ‘Forest Scenes’ are of a more intimate nature, and are perfect examples of Schumman’s ability to convey character and imagery in such simple forms.  Helmschen’s playing is incredibly precise, and no detail is left out.  The same applies to the Symphonic Etudes, which exist in a few different forms, as Schumann reviewed the work, deleted some variations, and then Brahms added five variations that Schumann had deleted back in after his death – Helmchen includes these here.  There are myriad coded references in the music to a young woman, Ernestine, who Schumann took a shine to, even though he had by now begun seeing the love of his life, Clara.  The work is more extrovert in feel, and Helmchen responds to this with more energy in his playing.  He closes the disc with a beautifully light and delicate performance of the Arabeske. 




(Edited versions of these reviews first appeared in GScene magazine, April 2013)