Eight talented musicians gave us a varied programme starting with a brand new composition from Paul Saggers, moving on to Mozart’s Clarinet Quintet and finishing with Mendelssohn’s String Octet.

The world premiere, Saggers’ Dear Nan is a musical depiction of the composer’s beloved grandmother’s journey through the different stages of dementia. The piece begins with galloping rhythms threaded through with broad optimistic passages that together give an impression of the joyfulness of Nan’s personality. Even this has a few sinister moments from repeated notes in the lower strings which suggests the disease lurking in the background. Soon the music contrasts with alternate quicker and slower passages which show the essential joyfulness of Nan pierced by moments of anxiety, as if her normal cheerful character is breaking down. The third theme is a beautiful melody representing the slowing down of that busy brain.

Throughout, the clarinet, played by Fiona Cross, acts as a solo voice, representing the questioning mind or soul of Nan herself as she wonders what is happening to her. The slowing down of her brain is emphasised in the final stages by long sustained notes which finally arrive at a full stop.

Having not so long ago lost my mother to dementia, I found this piece very moving and as accurate a musical picture of the terrible dissolution of human personality caused by Alzheimers as can be shown through the medium of music. It was interesting to read in the programmme that work with dementia patients is a large part of the community work that this musical group undertake in Manchester.

Paul Saggers introduced his piece to the audience as he was born and brought up here in Cornwall, cutting his musical teeth in the local brassbands as a cornet player, which is why the world premiere occurred here. I look forward to hearing more of his music.

The second piece on the programme was Mozart’s Clarinet Quintet in A major, K.581, a piece of music so familiar that one finds oneself humming the tunes in the head along with the players. Of course hearing something live brings a new sparkle of life to even the most familiar music and so it was here.

The piece was a late work from Mozart, written just before the similarly famous Clarinet Concerto. The clarinet as an instrument was discovered late by the composer, who fell in love with it when he heard the playing of Anton Stadler, the virtuoso of his day. Originally it was written for the older basset version of the clarinet but nowadays both these famous works are performed on more modern versions.

This gorgeous piece was played with an obvious enjoyment by the quintet as they brought it to life afresh for the audience, swaying like birch trees in a variable wind, as if the music itself resided deep in their bodies, while the eyes flickered, always alert to their fellow players. The leader, first violin player Caroline Pether’s whole face reflected her love of the music and all were similarly engaged as their bodies and minds became one with the instruments, the themes and the rhythms. In chamber music particularly no one instrument is more important, not even the soloist. The ensemble is all.

The flowing first movement with its repeated themes gives way to the second, where the clarinet more clearly has the melody line, the others acting mainly as a background except when the first violin takes the tune, which at times becomes a kind of conversation between violin and clarinet.

The third movement opens emphatically with first violin and viola and then passes to a conversation between second violin and cello before the clarinet enters with panache. Enjoyment and humour is evident throughout this minuet and the accompanying two trios, the first violin player even bouncing in her seat, while below, adding depth to the music, the cello growls.

The fourth movement is marked allegro con variazioni. The musicians take it at a cracking pace building up through a variety of playful variations contrasted by more thoughtful ones until it finally soars into a repetition of the first theme, faster and more jaunty than ever. Wonderful!
After the interval we were treated to Mendelssohn’s String Octet in E-flat major, Opus 20, an innovative work composed when Mendelssohn was only sixteen. Not only is it amazing that he should write such a piece at such a tender age but he also dared to experiment with a doubling up of instruments – eight instead of four – which is still only rare in chamber music, the norm being quartets or quintets.

After the classical treat of Mozart it was a lovely contrast to be carried along by the lusher romanticism of the young Mendelssohn. The first movement is scampering, joyful and youthful as if it were a grand adventure, exploring all the wonders of the world. The initial melody is returned to again and again with different combinations of instruments. The centre of this first movement leads into a slower more mournful section, as if a running youth has experienced something more thought-provoking before the instruments in staccato unison climb upwards and suddenly we’re off again on a new exciting adventure.

After a slower, thoughtful second movement the adventure continues in the last two movements which follow each other without a break. It starts once more as a scamper where each instrument passes the buck to the next as if in tumbling relay. The voices of the instruments suggest the kind of animals a youngster might notice when running through a wood: birds twitter, amphibians hop, small creatures rustle in the undergrowth and at one point a heavier animal stamps through the undergrowth. The whole of this second half is humorous and light. At the end the first violin leads the rest in a helter-skelter of sound which gathers enormous speed until it reaches a breathless full stop. Wow!

This was a thoroughly enjoyable evening and I congratulate the whole of Manchester Camerata and Fiona Cross for the sensitivity of her clarinet playing for treating the audience to such a joyful and spring-like experience. Even the sadness of Saggers’ opening composition was not out of place, for his depiction of his grandmother when healthy was also joyful to hear.

Jeni Whittaker

An all-Schubert recital is an unusual treat and Paul Lewis is, of course, an outstanding pianist who interprets the material with unshowy sensitivity.

We’ll never know why Schubert (as he did the famous symphony) left his D840 sonata apparently unfinished in 1825. Lewis opened the concert by playing the first movement of Relique with gentle gravitas, especially in the octave passages. Then he brought enough careful insouciance to the andante to ensure that we enjoyed the themed melody in all its forms and variations.

The familiar first movement of D664 is often played on its own but Lewis made it sound fresh before moving without a break into the lilting andante. Then I admired the expressive left hand work under the semi-quavers in the concluding allegro.

After the interval came the substantial four movement D845. There was attractive fluidity in the opening movement which marries two quite disparate themes: one a plaintive melody and the other a military march. And I loved the way Lewis delivered the drama at the end. Then it was into C major for an attractive take on the andante which certainly walked at a steady 4mph rather than the 2mph trudge it could so easily become. Lewis, moreover, scrupulously does all five variations with so much attention to detail that the individual mood of each is very clear. The scherzo was measured and elegant rather than rushed and Lewis made the finale sound as effortless as it is busy.

Some would argue that a full size concert grand with the lid fully open is inappropriate for music of the 1820s. But I reckon that, had Schubert, had the chance to hear his music played on an instrument of this quality he’d have applauded as enthusiastically as the audience did at this enjoyable concert.

Susan Elkin

Vocalise Rachmaninov
2nd Piano Concerto Rachmaninov Soloist: Christopher Weston
Symphony No 9 Dvorak
‘From the New World’

In one respect, Dvorak and Rachmaninov benefitted from the American Dream – they both made far more money in the States than they would ever have done at home. Yet both were ambivalent about the experience – after settling in the US, Rachmaninov produced no major works other than the Paganini variations, earned his living as a virtuoso performer and spent much of his time with fellow exiles, while Dvorak’s New World Symphony is partly about yearning for his homeland.

To celebrate the 150th anniversary of Rachmaninov’s birth, it was great to hear such spirited, accomplished and sensitive performances of two of his most well-known works which demonstrate why he is perhaps the last of the romantic ‘greats’. In the Vocalise, the upper strings produced a tone which was both sweet and remarkably strong in sustaining the melancholic melody, with exquisite tuning and just the right level of vibrato. Andrew Lowen achieved real variety in the string ensemble with subtle gradations in tone and a texture which never became dull or too thick, while there was gentle, sympathetic support from the woodwind and horns.

Christopher Weston responded superbly to the technical demands of the concerto. There was dramatic power to the chordal passages, an exciting, jagged energy to more rhythmic sections while the almost impossibly difficult runs, trills and arpeggios were handled with consummate ease and clarity – there was no danger of the handful of wrong notes which can mar some performances. He produced beautifully expressive, sustained playing in the lyrical sections of the first movement, without any hint of romantic self-indulgence, while in the second he evoked a sublimely simple calmness with an almost Mozartian precision which only enhanced the emotional appeal. In the third movement, real pianistic delicacy contrasted with power and technical prowess to wonderful effect and the impressive short cadenza-like section showed off his skills to the full. What a fine young pianist he is! The relationship between soloist and orchestra was expertly handled, with a rich string tone (especially from the violas), and some beautiful playing from the woodwind, either as soloists or as an ensemble. There was crisp rhythmic definition, with dramatic changes of tempo, and the piano and orchestra worked as one, the soloist’s part often emerging from orchestral tuttis. The brass playing was tightly executed, particularly in some thrilling chordal sequences, and while the balance between soloist and orchestra was generally good, I felt that the piano was occasionally slightly overwhelmed. This however is a minor criticism of a controlled performance by fine musicians, in which soloist and orchestra each respected each other’s role: how good it is to hear a soloist working with rather than against an orchestra!

The skills of both orchestra and conductor were demonstrated to the full in the symphony which makes tremendous demands of all sections. Strings and woodwind produced a wonderful dark sonority at the start, and Andrew Lowen’s clear conducting, undertaken with an obviously ebullient pleasure, ensured effective changes of tempo and tonal colour. Rhythmic energy balanced lyrical playing, especially from the strings, and the full orchestral sections were just thrilling. The cor anglais solo in the second movement was hauntingly beautiful, played with great breath control and supported by subtle string playing, contrasting with some precise, spikey woodwind passages. The third movement had great life and energy, though occasionally the rhythm and tuning were slightly ragged. As in other movements, there was some impressive flute, oboe and clarinet playing. The varied orchestral colour of the final movement showed how well disciplined this orchestra is, with all sections listening to and balancing each other – the great crescendos and climaxes were genuinely moving.

It was delightful to see the concert-hall nearly full for this impressive concert. To perform such well-known works involves a risk in enhancing the expectations of an audience, but players, soloist and conductor proved themselves worthy of the challenge. For me, this was a memorable evening of dramatic and hugely enjoyable music-making by top-quality musicians.

Jonathan Watts

People often tell me, enviously, that I have a lovely job. It’s true. I do. And rarely have I been so aware of that than when I arrived at Wigmore Hall for a whole evening of Handel, focusing on his time in Rome in the first decade of the eighteenth century

Moreover this was the first time I’ve seen the Dunedin Consort live. Their original instruments and way of working are fascinating. Everyone who can is standing to play (so not, the keyboard player, cellists and theorbo player, obviously). Violins are played without chin or shoulder rests. There are no metal adjusters on tail pieces either so there’s a great deal of careful retuning between works. The gut strings sound mellow but vibrant. Players use very little vibrato and not much position shifting – presumably because, in the early eighteenth century, Handel was writing for shorter necked instruments. All string players are using Baroque bows – stockier and tighter than modern ones and typically held a few inches higher up the stick than usual.

Matthew Truscott – standing in to cover an illness – is a dynamic leader, using his whole body to keep the consort together with much eye contact and many smiles. He also gave us some virtuosic solo work, calmly blended into the ensemble, and proved himself an entertaining and informative speaker when he addressed the audience in the second half. Also in the second half Alison McGillivray switched from cello to viola da gamba – bowing underhand so that it the faster passages she looked as if she was stirring a pudding but the sound was pretty riveting.

The real high spot of the evening, however, was soprano Nardus Williams. After the overture and two other short orchestral items from Admeto she sang Ero e Leandro. Simply dressed in plain red silk, she has a way with impassive passion and intensely understated anguish as her Ero loses her lover. There was some immaculately sensitive duetting with Truscott, McGillvray and Rafael Arjona Ruz on theorbo. Williams found exactly the right resonance for the warm acoustic of Wigmore Hall in both this and in Tu del ciel ministro eletto from Il trionfo del Tempo Disinganno which followed it in a different mood.

After the interval we got the Concerto Grosso in C minor Op 6, No 6. The largo was suitably broad and the a tempo guisto second movement stressed all the colour implied by the word “chromatic”. Truscott was clearly having fun with it. The musette was played with elegant prettiness and there were lots of triumphantly virtuosic moments in both the allegro movements.

Then Nardus Williams returned for two final works: Tra le fiamme and Per me gia di morire from La Resurrezione, now finding more animated drama mostly in the lower part of her register in the former. And goodness me the bell like sound of that wooden oboe (Frances Norbury) playing descending scales with Truscott and McGillvray and then with Williams, as Mary Magdalene, will stay with me for a long time.

As if that weren’t enough – rapturous applause – there was then an encore. A short cantata from Aminta dating from the same period. It lilts along in 6|8 as the singer heads towards the sea and certainly sent me away with a happy spring in my step.

Susan Elkin

Mozart Overture: The Marriage of Figaro
Richard Strauss Horn Concerto No 2 Soloist: Ben Goldscheider
Bruckner Symphony No 4 ‘Romantic’

It would be difficult to find a programme which demonstrates more effectively the variety of the Austro-German musical tradition, with the delicate but infectious energy of Mozart’s overture, Strauss’s lush lyricism, melodic genius and joie-de-vivre and the whole panoply of emotion unleashed by Bruckner within a tightly controlled structure. With so many exposed passages and frequent transitions of mood and texture, these are works which are technically demanding and require extraordinary levels of skill, discipline, musicality, confidence and sheer endurance from all sections of the orchestra – and the members of the MSO responded triumphantly to the challenge with as fine a performance as you will ever hear of all three works.

Conductor Brian Wright set a brisk tempo for the overture in which the strong, accurate, well-articulated string-playing produced a real sense of excitement and anticipation for the shenanigans of the opera itself. There was great rhythmic definition and some wonderfully soft passages while the ensemble playing was absolutely precise but dramatic, with some thrilling crescendos and tutti interjections.

Composed by Strauss when in his late 70s, his 2nd Horn Concerto has all the liveliness of his first, composed when he was just 18, but with perhaps greater nostalgic lyricism and even a sense of escape from what was happening in the world when it was written in 1942, though this is not the place to discuss Strauss and politics – and I wonder if cancel-culture has yet entered the concert-hall. Ben Goldscheider’s mastery of this notoriously difficult and unpredictable instrument was simply extraordinary. He produced a wide variety of tonal colour – more than I have ever heard from a horn – and the more lyrical sections were utterly compelling in the gentle sensitivity with which he played sensual melodic lines. The crisp runs, changes of speed and more playful passages showed his technical dexterity, but at no point was technique sacrificed to letting the music speak for itself. In its scale, this is almost a chamber-work, and Ben’s subtle and emotionally-intelligent approach was exactly right. There was measured, balanced, but richly textured accompaniment and interaction from the orchestra, with some particularly fine wind passages, horn and string-playing; at several points, the solo horn part was able to emerge wonderfully from the orchestral ensemble. Overall, this was a nuanced performance of inspired exuberance and melodic delight. By contrast, Ben played as an encore Bernhard Krol’s ‘Laudatio’ of 1966 which, despite its name, provides a hauntingly poignant counterweight to the Strauss. Ben’s controlled performance, with some amazing pianissimo playing and an ability to evoke both melancholy and peaceful resignation, made this one of the highlights of the evening.

Bruckner’s hour-long 4th Symphony ranges across the emotions, but requires strict discipline. Brian Wright’s elegant. efficient and unobtrusive style of conducting coped brilliantly with the frequent changes of mood and tempo; the balance between different sections of the orchestra was superb and the sound was never ponderous The brass in particular played with real sensitivity and were at no point overwhelming. The lower strings and violas produced a fullness of sound in their melodic passages, which often had an engagingly dark quality, while the upper strings, when not playing a punishing tremolando, were serene in their tone and tuning especially in the more chromatic passages and fiendish runs. There were some thrilling crescendos and full ensemble sections, interspersed with some exquisite wind and string playing. I was also impressed by the subtle drama added to this work (and to the Strauss) by the excellent timpanist. This symphony provides an emotional journey and the MSO’s performance was positively uplifting. The evening certainly left me exhilarated.

Jonathan Watts

I am rapidly coming to the conclusion that every musical organisation needs Joanna MacGregor at its helm. She is a powerhouse. Since her arrival at BPO there has been aeons of new dynamism and different ways of working and – best of all – audiences are growing. The Dome was pretty full for this, the last concert of the season and there were, I was delighted to note, a number of attentive children in the mix.

And what a programme! I had written DNMTO (Do Not Miss This One) in large letters in my diary because it’s such pleasure to hear Beethoven’s Triple Concerto (C Major Op 56). The need for three soloists means that this beautiful piece doesn’t get as many outings as it deserves. I know it well from recordings but have heard it live only three or four times before – often by students.

This performance gave us MacGregor at the piano with Ruth Rogers, who usually leads BPO, on violin, and principal cellist Peter Adams – while the orchestra was led by Nicky Sweeney. The rapport was palpable with lots of happy smiles. Macgregor, Rogers and Sweeney were together at the BPO Ensemble concert last week and I shall never forget Adams’ beautiful work in the BPO’s recent St Matthew Passion.

With piano pointing into the heart of the orchestra. MacGregor directed from the keyboard – a sylishly elegant conductor. Like the violin concerto this work has a long, dramatic first movement followed by two shorter ones. The first movement was joyously well played. By the time you reach the second movement, it’s essentially chamber music and these players gave us an immaculately sensitive largo in the middle of the sandwich followed by perfect segue into the rondo – Beethoven at his most playful. I think the audience enjoyed it as much as the players did.

After the interval came a nippy bit of teamwork. With piano moved into its conventional concerto position and Rogers back in concert black in the leader’s seat it was time for MacGregor to treat us to a rousing performance of Beethoven’s Piano Concerto no 5 in E flat major, Op73, The Emperor. Again she directed from the keyboard with Rogers beating time with her bow very clearly to keep the orchestra together while MacGregor was playing. At one point in the middle movement Rogers unobtrusively rescued the orchestra when the ensemble slipped briefly out of synch. Otherwise this was one of the most focused accounts of this movement I’ve ever heard/seen with everyone watching everyone else almost continuously as MacGregor wove her Beethovenian lyrical magic into the texture. And when they got to what is, in my view, the best moment in classical/romantic music – the link passage into the rondo – it was delivered with touching poise rather than milled and I liked that. A word of praise too, for principal bassoon Jonathan Price whose fine work in the third movement shone though delightfully in a way that it often doesn’t.

And as it that weren’t enough the concert had opened with Barber’s Adagio for Strings. It’s popular, poignant and assocated on the public mind with many major tragic events such as the assassination of John F Kennedy and the 9/11 atrocities. This performance was clearly and incisively directed by Nicky Sweeney from the leader’s seat. It’s hard to make it sound fresh because it’s so familiar. Moreover it’s always harder to bring off an adagio than it is anything marked, for example, allegro. But here it was very cohesive, with fine dynamic control and as moving as it should be. I was especially impressed by the quality of bow control and the impact of the searing sequence of rising high notes in the middle.

Susan Elkin

Elgar Cockaigne Overture
Grieg Piano Concerto in A Minor   -Soloist: Vincent Barrella
Tchaikovsky Symphony No 1 in G minor

When I was much younger, I was a terrible, elitist musical snob. Armed with my Grade VIII (distinction) and A-level Music (Grade A) I thought I knew it all, and developed what I considered a ‘purist’ view of music – one writer has called this a ‘Bach-and-cold-showers’ approach. For example, I rejected opera, because the only opera-enthusiasts I met seemed to know nothing about music, and I despised so-called romantic music for its blatant appeal to emotion, its apparent lack of intellectual rigour and, almost certainly, because it was ‘popular’ – though secretly I would often listen to the syrupy tones of Alan Keith and ‘Your 100 Best Tunes’ on a Sunday evening, if only to confirm my prejudices. How utterly misguided I was in every respect!

This demanding programme, so skilfully performed, admirably showed the variety and sheer delight of the romantic repertoire. In his entertaining programme-note, conductor Rupert Bond pointed out the theme of landscape reflected in all three works – Elgar’s London, Grieg’s Norway and Tchaikovsky’s ‘Winter Daydreams, and there is a nationalist theme there as well: the concerto and symphony both make conscious use of folk idioms, while Elgar, stung by the hostile reception of Gerontius (surely the greatest work ever by an English composer) as both too German and too Catholic, determined to write something ‘ cheerful and Londony, stout and steaky’.

With music by three masters of orchestration, every section of the orchestra was given the chance to shine and responded superbly whether in exposed solo lines, beautifully balanced string, brass and wind ensembles or full-orchestral passages. With such a consistently high standard of performance, it would be invidious to focus on any particular group of players, but there was some splendid playing by the horns in all three works while the percussion department – so often ignored by reviewers – heightened the drama brilliantly. Fiendish, fast, high and technically difficult violin parts were handled with ease and with a fullness of tone while the lower strings provided a rich sonority. The passages for wind showed great ensemble sensitivity, with some particularly beautiful flute playing and lyrical performances from the oboes and clarinets. The climaxes were simply thrilling, enhanced by controlled brass-playing which at no point was over-enthusiastic or raucous. Indeed, Rupert Bond managed to create a wonderful balance between sections of the orchestra, allowing the subtleties of the music to come through without in any way reducing dramatic contrasts: in fact, some of the most exquisite, controlled playing was in the quieter, more reflective parts of each work. Notable points about the Elgar were the legato string playing and poignant melodic outpouring; the controlled and disciplined rubato; the clever echo effects; and the life-affirming ensemble passages, which even in this work had a touch of Elgarian, nobilmente melancholy. It was the dramatic variety of the Tchaikovsky which I noticed most along with the spikey string and wind playing to conjure the winter scene; great crescendos and contrasts between loud and soft; the calm but poignant melodies of the strings and horns; the rhythmic definition; and the emotional variety, from dance-like energy through dark, lugubriousness to emotional outpouring, all achieved with control and balance such is Rupert Bond’s skill as a conductor.

Vincent Barrella’s performance of the Grieg Piano Concerto demonstrated his consummate pianistic skill, with faultless articulation in the crisp runs and arpeggio passages alongside powerful, sonorous chordal sections. This was, however, not just a bravura demonstration of technical prowess, but a thoughtful and sensitive performance, with great variety of tonal colour and the ability to work with the orchestra rather than dominate it: the exchange of themes between orchestra and soloist was handled brilliantly and, though occasionally the solo part was overwhelmed by the full orchestral sound, orchestra and pianist worked together, with the piano part at times simply being part of the overall musical effect. I was particularly impressed by the variety of expression in the cadenza of the first movement while in the more lyrical sections, especially in the second movement, Vincent played with a sublime delicacy. He gave the rumbustious, danse-macabre theme of the final movement an energetic, jagged quality, followed by some compelling pianissimo playing: the contrasts in mood Vincent created through the work were quite remarkable. This was an extraordinarily fine performance of great musicality by a highly accomplished soloist supported by equally sensitive, collaborative orchestral playing.

It was delightful to see so many people at this first-rate performance of hugely enjoyable works, which are nonetheless extremely demanding to perform. Folkestone is indeed fortunate to have such a fine orchestra and Rupert Bond and leader Floriane Peycelon can once again be proud of their achievement.

Jonathan Watts

Like most Mozart works, the Violin Sonata in B flat K454 sounds effortlessly simple but is, of course, anything but. Here Italian violinist, Francesca Dego and pianist Alessio Bax (also Italian) delivered it like a conversation full of engaging musical dialogue.

She plays with a smile and sets pleasingly dramatic contrasts between the dotted leggiero passages and playfully grandiloquent chords in the opening movement and her tone is admirably mellow. Together they find delicate warmth in the gentle 6|8 andante. And Dego plays – almost sings – the Allegretto as a light-as-air quasi dance while Bax (further from the audience) ripples and ripostes behind her. The effect is both charming and impressive.

Then we nipped forward a hundred years in time to the rich romance of Brahms: his Violin Sonata No I in G op 78 which dates from 1878/9. Dego makes the opening Largo – Vivace sound almost sultry in the powerful fortissimo passages. Then in the andante – connected with the death of Brahms’s godson Felix Schumann – Bax delivered the soulful piano statement at the start with appropriate poignancy which Dego amplified later in her well played double stopped section. The performance finished with a colourful account of the Allegro molto moderato.

It’s good to see and hear two relatively young musicians performing together with such intelligent cohesion. The lunchtime Wigmore Hall audience – usual mix of enthusiastic retirees, local business people enjoying a musical midday break and music students and teachers – was enthralled, as I hope Radio 3 listeners were at home.

Susan Elkin