Royal Festival Hall   7 February 2015

Rex Lawson(pianola ), Johannes Moser (cello), Denis Hall (presenter)

Q) How is it possible for a pianist who died over 70 years ago to appear “live” in concert?

A) When that pianist was a prolific recorder  of piano rolls.

This free matinee concert was presented by the Pianola Institute. Whilst some may take issue with the “live” billing it was an enthralling experience  to hear the two Steinway pianos come alive with the playing of such a master composer-pianist. On entering the main auditorium the audience was greeted by the unusual sight of two “pull-up” pianolas in front of the Hall’s two Steinway grand pianos, and a similar “pull-up” reproducing instrument waiting to be substituted for the second half.

The concert showed something of the range of rolls that were produced and the differences between the two main systems of recording and reproduction. To explain this very basically “ordinary” pianolas simply allow the pitch and rhythm of the performance to be played back, with the pianolist expertly controlling dynamics and speed whereas the more sophisticated reproducing piano captures these details on the roll and everything is played back without the need to reinterpret.

We heard solo pieces of both types as well as hearing an accompaniment roll played together with live cello from soloist Johannes Moser in two movements from the Cello Sonata, Op 19. Johannes’ playing was superb but sadly, at times, was a little eclipsed by the sound of the piano. The conclusion to the concert was a rendition of the 2^nd movement of Piano Concerto No 2 with Rachmaninoff’s solo played on the reproducing piano and Rex Lawson controlling the pianola with a transcription of the orchestral part. A lot of skill is involved in matching the orchestral part to the solo – it was fascinating to watch the performance.

The programme began with The Isle of the Dead. The length of the piece necessitated the loading of two rolls over two pianolas. Rex moved from one to the another to make for a swifter “join”! There was also lighter music including Polka de W.R. and Rachmaninoff’s concert arrangement of Kreisler’s Liebesfreud.

There were anecdotes, a humorous poem & background information on the various systems of recording and playback. There was some explanation of the way modern MIDI technology has been utilised to enable rolls to be transcribed from one commercial and incompatible system and played back on another. I would have liked slightly more explanation as to how the reproducing piano had been adapted to be played back in a less conventional way. The enthusiasm and expertise of the two presenters was evident throughout.

This was a very good introduction to the world of pianolas and reproducing pianos but also an entertaining and immersive musical experience in its own right. Congratulation to all involved. I hope it will have helped to raise the profile of this musical genre and that there may be similar future events. SP

The Dome, Brighton, Sunday 8 February 2015

On paper this appeared to be a very pleasant classical Sunday matinee. A sandwich of symphonies with a piano concerto in between should have worked well but the actual choice of works proved more problematic. Unless the listener has a very keen ear for orchestration the three works could easily have flowed into one continuous stream of easy listening.

The afternoon opened with Haydn’s Symphony No83 La Poule. Thomas Carroll brought a lightness of touch with clipped rhythms in the first movement and a gently melancholic feel to the Andante. Anthony Hewitt was a very relaxed soloist for Mozart’s Piano Concerto No27 with its familiar final movement. The Steinway piano seemed rather too hard in the opening movement but the soloist eased into his playing and the finale was delightfully wistful and delicate.

Schubert’s Fifth Symphony may have been written over twenty years later but looks back to Mozart far more than to the innovations of Beethoven. Only the occasional challenge within the Andante helped us to realise when it was actually composed.

Over the afternoon the wind had very little to do apart from strengthen the tutti passages, except for a few fine phrases in the Schubert. As a result the matinee slipped past without any really arresting moments and was noteworthy – certainly from where I was sitting – for rather more gentle snoring than is usual. Possibly the most exciting moment was the highly professional dispatch of the piano during the interval.

If we had heard Haydn’s Surprise Symphony rather than La Poule we might have been more attentive to the fine playing that was in evidence.

ENO, 7 February 2015

Wagner’s The Mastersingers of Nuremberg has long had a special place in the heart not only of ENO audiences but also of the company itself. It was Mastersingers that first brought the Sadlers and Wells companies together in the mid-sixties for the first time and launched the series of Wagner performances under Reginald Goodall which in many ways created the company we know today.

Despite the rumbles we hear of behind the scenes, the standards that were set back then are more than obvious is this most recent production under Edward Gardner and Richard Jones.

First seen over five years ago at WNO, the production seems lighter now, more subtle both in its characterisation and musical weight. The drama unfolds swiftly and inevitably, with constant concentration on the text and the interaction of character. Not that this should in any way imply that there is a problem with the musical standards. This is one of the finest sung and played performances I can recall with all parts drawn from strength; but Wagner himself intended that the text should lead the hearer not simply the beauty of the musical line, and it does so with sharp clarity. It is one of the few times where having the surtitles in addition to the opera being sung in English really pays off.

Given that everything in Mastersingers hangs on the quality of the Prize Song Gwyn Hughes Jones’ Walter is totally convincing. His Now begin in Act One gave us a hint of what was to come but few Walter’s have the stamina to carry this level through to the end. No problems here; the Prize Song came over as fresh and lyrically mellifluous, a truly convincing winner.

The relationship between Sachs and Beckmesser is also a surprisingly subtle one. It is quite clear that they are close and that the upset is an aberration in their friendship, which, one suspects, will be quickly healed. Iain Paterson’s jovial Sachs is confused by his feelings for Eva and his quiet tear in act three is one of a number of gentle indications of his depths of feeling for her. Andrew Shore’s Beckmesser may be a stickler for regulation but he is a more complex and likeable character than is frequently the case. James Creswell is a noble Pogner and Rachel Nicholls shines as Eva – but as already noted there are no weaknesses in the casting.

The final scene, and in particular Sachs’ narration can be a stumbling block for producers today but Richard Jones circumvents this by letting the whole cast step out of character to point us, as the front cloth does, to the importance of German art and thinking, which Wagner himself intended.

With so much quality on stage it would be easy to overlook the importance to the whole of Edward Gardner’s deft handling from the pit and the enthusiastic brilliance of the choral singing.

How anybody could even think of seriously criticising a company that can create productions of this quality is – well – Mad!

The Mote Hall, Maidstone, 31 January 2015

Flautist Harry Winstanley may have been introduced as local boy makes good but there is nothing remotely domestic about his international reputation or his technical prowess. Nor is he limited to performing. The first half of the concert was built around two substantial and challenging works for flute and orchestra, the first of which, Paul Taffanel’s Fantasy on themes from Weber’s Der Freischutz had been orchestrated for this performance by Harry Winstanley himself. It is a sensitive arrangement, thinning out Weber’s orchestra so as not to overwhelm the soloist but retaining just enough brass to allow significant impact in climaxes. The work opens with Agathe’s Leise, leise fromme Weise and wends its way through to Annchen’s Einst träumte meiner. On the way the flautist indulges in increasingly elaborate ornamentation like a Bel-canto Diva on a benefit evening. It was intoxicating and hugely enjoyable. Prior to this we had heard the overture to Der Freischutz where the horns had excelled themselves though the piece never really caught fire.

Carl Nielsen’s Flute Concerto is equally demanding of the soloist and makes even more demands of the audience. There is a constant tension between the soloist and the orchestra which changes moment to moment in emotional intensity and melodic invention. At one time the flautist seems to be trying to calm the orchestra whereas at others they seem to be forcing him to go into areas his gentle, almost naïve musical line clearly does not want to pursue. The introduction of the snarling trombone at the end leaves us with a lurking doubt as to just how seriously we should take the work. Maybe we should just sit back and enjoy it and not worry about the journey?

After the interval we were in much safer territory with Dvorak’s sixth symphony. The influence of Brahms is obvious throughout but this is Brahms with a smile on his face and the Czech folk influence is never far from the surface. The brass are very exposed but proved themselves more than worthy of the challenge with ringing fanfares at both ends of the work. There is a gentle optimism in the slow movement which was supported by rich string playing and occasional darker moments passed quickly as the woodwind bring back the sunshine. The scherzo was furiously driven like a whirling folk dance throughout and brought us to the melodic delights of the finale, Brian Wright maintaining a lightness and sense of joy throughout.

The next concert on 21 March brings us the Elgar Violin Concerto with a change of soloist. Bartosz Woroch returns to play for us in place of Ulf Hoelscher.

The Dome, 17 1 15

It may have been a dull winter’s evening but the music spoke of light and energy throughout, with a richly romantic combination of late nineteenth century works.

One the benefits of hearing operatic overtures in the concert hall is the greater clarity it brings to the score and none more so than the Prelude to Humperdinck’s Hansel und Gretel. This is post-Wagnerian writing at its best, with the melodic lines sliding effortlessly around each other to create an enveloping cocoon of sound. Rory Macdonald’s crisp approach and clarity of line meant that the counterpoint was clear throughout and the subtle shifts in mood pointed without being over-extended.

Lambis Vassiliadis’ approach to piano playing reminds one of the stories of Liszt with its explosive dynamism and authority. His approach to Chopin’s Second Piano Concerto was virile throughout with the left hand often hammering out the chords to a point where one wondered if the instrument could take the weight. And yet there was nothing unmusical about the performance; it was totally convincing and inspiring. If Rory Macdonald had seemed to be taking a very precise approach to phrasing in the opening section, Lambis Vassiliadis created a continuous gentle tension with his use of rubato and rapid changes of mood. Long passages would build to heady climaxes only to disappear into thin air.

He gave us a lengthy Lisztian encore which was even more dazzling technically and left the piano needing a rub-down and a rest. (I later found that this was Liszt’s Reminiscences of Norma)

The sense of the open air which had been evident in Hansel und Gretel returned with Dvorak’s 8^th Symphony. Breathing light and a sense of the joy of life throughout, it allowed us to hear some very fine solo playing along with the warm intensity of the strings. If tempi were on the fast side, the symphony never seemed rushed, rather there was a delight in the ability to spin musical lines with such ease. The splendid trumpet solo which opened the final movement led to a set of variations with real bite and attack, at whose heart was the gentle cello melody which seemed to encapsulate the joy of the whole.

A splendid evening of exceptional music-making.

One observation to add in passing. When I go the Brighton Philharmonic concerts nobody ever applauds between movements and the coughing is kept well under control. Last night there was applause throughout and coughing was often uncomfortably obvious. Does Brighton really have two different audiences for classical concerts?