Barbican Hall, 7 January 2019

Inspired programming meant a whole concert full of powerful story telling which really showcased the ability of this massive band (102 named in the programme) of talented school-age young musicians from across London. It must be great fun for these young people to play Strauss and Wagner too – all of it dramatic, tuneful and not exactly short of passion.

The poise and maturity of LSSO players – all of them under 18 and some of them still very much children although most are mid teens – is striking. So is the discipline and training which has come through working with London’s Centre for Young Musicians which operates as a division of Guildhall School of Music.

We opened with Strauss’s Death and Transfiguration. Many a professional quakes at the prospect of the exposed opening entrusted to second violins and violas but these youngsters are (apparently) fearless and it came off with sensitive accuracy. The sound was rich throughout and I think this was the first time I’ve ever seen six harps on stage – a rare luxury but manageable, it seems, in a youth orchestra context.

Then it was on to Strauss’s Three Orchestral Love Songs – effectively a set of concerto movements for voice and orchestra for which the ensemble size was slightly reduced. It was announced at the beginning of the concert that soloist Rachel Nicholls was recovering from laryngitis but she still packed plenty of warmth, strength and feeling. What good experience, too for young players to be accompanying rather than taking centre stage. The rhythmic figure in Befreit Op39 No 4 1898 was especially well played.

Finally, after the interval we were off to Wagner-land for Twilight of the Gods: A Symphonic Journey. Arranged by Wigglesworth, this is, in effect, a musical summary of the last act of Gotterdammerung with Nicholls singing Brunnhilde’s Immolation (beautifully) at the end. Whether or not you’re a Wagner fan this is a splendid piece for young players to stretch themselves in. There is so much solo work and gloriously abundant opportunity for all those brass and percussion players to excel. The Siegfried horn calls were deftly delivered, the funeral march suitably noble and Wiggleworth’s fine control of dynamic contrast heightened the drama.

What these young players achieve is remarkable especially given their age. Many youth orchestras retain their players to 21 or so. Not this one. Leader Leon Human (lovely rendering of solos in the opening Strauss) is an A level student. It’s also a real joy to observe the audience LSSO attracts. Lots of young people come – from the schools that the players attend and from the Centre for Young Musicians. And of course families are there with siblings. If only we could find ways of getting such youthful and enthusiastic audiences for other classical music concerts.

Susan Elkin

London Coliseum, 13 December 2018

An Elkin Christmas is not complete without a good Nutcracker and a decent Messiah (latter next week although I’m not reviewing it). There are several Nutcrackers in town at the moment but this rather sumptuous offering from English National Ballet, first staged in 2010, more than ticks my boxes with its puppet theatre, hot air balloon and red-eyed mice.

I have long thought that Tchaikovsky’s Nutcracker score is one of the most evocative ever written not least because of its sublimely colourful orchestration. Gavin Sutherland and English National Ballet Philharmonic make a pretty good job of delivering it, helped by the Coliseum’s generous acoustic. You can hear all the detail played from different corners of the pit from the pianissimo filigree string work in Waltz of the Flowers to the bass clarinet in The Dance of the Sugar Plum fairy. Every note is allowed to tell its own story.

This is a pretty conventional Nutcracker in that the framing device is firmly in place. We begin and end in Clara’s bedroom. Children (Tring Park School for Performing Arts) play the young Clara and Freddie. Others from Tring Park, who also form a choir, and young dancers from English National Ballet School appear in some of the ensemble scenes.

Rina Kanehara as the “adult” Clara looks very childlike but dances with mature assurance. Partnered by Fernando Carratala Coloma as the Nutcracker Prince, she is a compelling performer. Both dancers make leaps and lifts look effortless. Kanehara gets a spontaneous round of applause for her sustained pirouettes and her Sugar Plum lives up to its name. Coloma is immaculately lithe spending more time airborne than on the ground in his two Act 2 solo spots. I really admired their pas de deux too – charismatically danced against Tchaikovsky’s heavy brass alternating with piccolo.

There’s some lovely work from the corps de ballet in this production too with an especially attractive pink-tinged Waltz of the Flowers. Wayne Eagling’s choreography is particularly fresh and interesting here with lots of sweeping shapes and formations.

Amongst the set pieces presented by Drosselmeyer (Fabian Reimar – good) the exciting Spanish Dance stands out. And the Arabian Dance is as silkily seductive – leaning into the minor harmony – as I’ve ever heard it. Most of these dances were taken at sedate tempo which enhances the music but requires and gets even more control from the dancers than usual.

I’m struck too by the way the industry has progressed to enlightenment in recent years. No longer, it seems, is absolute uniformity of height and build imposed on female ballet dancers. Some of these women are taller than the men they’re dancing with and of course it matters not one iota. I smiled happily through every bar and step.

Susan Elkin

Barbican Hall, Sunday 9 December 2018

In this anniversary year for Leonard Bernstein I was really waiting for Candide. Often dismissed in its early years as almost impossibly rambling it is now recognised as one of his most important works and last night was given the most consummate staging I can recall.

At the helm was Marin Alsop, and we were tactfully reminded, through the overhead screens at the end, that she had worked with Bernstein. If she does not take the work quite as rapidly as he did she nevertheless brings a zip and enthusiasm which carries the narrative forward without any loss of musical finesse.

Tiny moments – the pique of the piccolo in the overture, the romantic string melodies and bite of the chorus – all added up to an evening that did not drop for a second. Added to this, a cast which could surely not be bettered. Jane Archibald’s Cunegonde had the cynicism of the rich coupled with a magnificent coloratura enabling her to throw off Glitter and be gay as if it were a walk in the park. Leonardo Capalbo’s Candide moved from a lighter, almost naïve, tone at the start to a weighty helden-tenor in the final scenes.

Thomas Allen’s Pangloss combined humour with a gently firm characterisation but possibly the surprise of the evening was Anne Sofie von Otter’s remarkably mobile Old Lady – both physically and vocally. Of the impressive line-up of singers for the numerous smaller parts tenor Thomas Atkins was notable for his virile and very pleasing tone, as well as his warm characterisation.

The LSO played with wonderful energy for Marin Alsop, and the LSO chorus provided us with a weight of sound unheard in the theatre. I can’t recall Bernstein’s chorus items as well sung before, and their involvement in the evening – storm movements, Hawaiian shirts and numerous sound effects – added hugely to the overall impact. Garnett Bruce’s semi-staging was just that, intelligent movement for the soloists, a minimal setting which stood in for ship, coach, stately home, and a close relationship between orchestra, chorus and singers.

I would hope to encounter Candide again with forces as good as this, but I don’t expect to hear better.

Mote Hall, Maidstone, 1 December 2018

A slightly less populist concert than MSO often presents, we began with Kodaly’s Dances of Galanta. Brian Wright observed in his introduction that the concert’s three works all have folk themes and origins. That was very clear in the opener which the orchestra played, after a rather exposed shaky start, with rich vibrancy. The fast and furious string work and the flute solos were especially noteworthy.

Gordon Jacobs’s 1955 trombone concerto may not be a great work (somewhere between Eric Coates and Vaughan-Williams on an off day with an awful lot of predictable arpeggios) but it’s a rare treat to see the trombone take centre stage. It was also delightful to see the grown up Peter Moore back in Maidstone to play it. In 2008 he was the youngest ever winner of the BBC Young Musician of the Year and played with MSO soon after. Still looking barely old enough to have left school, Moore found lyrical clarity in every note during a thoughtful performance which demanded to be listened to very attentively.  And the Sarabande by Bach which he played as an encore was stunningly beautiful.

And so to a Mahler marathon. His long first symphony is very demanding and it was played here with unflagging energy. Personally I’ve always found the opening indecisive, disparate and wishy-washy with its cuckoo-ing woodwind and offstage brass but Wright held it together competently. There was some elegant playing in the second movement including nice string glissandi in the trio.

The third movement is, of course, one of Mahler’s best. Jasmine Otaki played the double bass solo – the memorable minor key Frere Jacques theme which dominates the movement – with real mystery. We heard MSO at its best here, as other instruments and sections gradually picked up the theme and intensified the texture. The contrasting Klezmer-like section led by the brass with percussive col legno from the violins was excellent too.

The final movement is momentously manic in nature and calls for much intensity. That is not to say it should let rip and in places this performance sounded less controlled than it needs to be although I really liked the grandiloquence achieved by the brass section.

It’s a symphony which batters its listeners and demands enormous stamina from its players. No wonder Brian Wright looked exhausted at the end.

Susan Elkin

London Coliseum, Monday 26 November 2018

Jonathan Miller’s production of La Boheme has always impressed for the vitality of its staging and the simplicity of its story telling. When this is combined with young singers who are totally convincing in their roles it can’t fail to please.

This may be its fourth revival – to say nothing of an ill-fated alternative which was thankfully short-lived – but it comes up as fresh and emotionally truthful as ever. Much of this certainly is down to the casting.

Jonathan Tetelman’s Rodolfo sang heroically throughout, the top firm and rounded, and the voice seemed to blossom as the evening progressed. Added to this, his acting was emotionally convincing at all times, the subtlety of his gestures particularly telling. Let us hope we see him again soon. Natalya Romaniw may be better known to us but was none the less welcome. Her near immobility in the final act was devastating as she literally faded away before our eyes. Earlier she had been more in control of the situation that is often the case, leading Rodolfo out in Act Three where he had almost lost the plot. It was very touching.

Nadine Benjamin’s Musetta uses all her sensuality to promote herself and yet proves to be equally sensitive in the final act. She is strongly partnered by Nicholas Lester’s intelligent Marcello.

Alexander Joel was making his debut in the pit and took the whole evening at a fast pace though it never, ever, seemed rushed. The orchestra responded with enthusiasm and the chorus, as ever, was magnificent in the finely staged second act. Here everything buzzes on stage without ever upstaging the soloists – the sign of an exceptional understanding of stage-craft.

I am sure this is not the last time we will see this splendid production.

Tonbridge School Chapel, Saturday 24 November 2018

Commemorating the centenary of the First World War has given rise to a wide range of events, but Britten’s War Requiem has been foremost amongst them. Tonbridge Philharmonic, under Matthew Willis, drew on strong forces to bring us a moving and at times challenging reading of the work within the often difficult acoustic of Tonbridge School Chapel. The layout is not conducive to concerts as the audience is essentially facing itself rather than the performers and the sound tends to remain at the east end. Only in the magnificent outpouring of the brass at its most triumphant or the hushed singing of the girls’ choir in the west balcony did the whole space really come alive.

Britten’s demands are difficult for any group to bring fully to fruition today. We had the benefit of the distant girls’ choir and the movement of the solo singers, but there was no real differentiation between the full and chamber orchestras, nor the second conductor as Britten required.

Many key moments flowered impressively. The Kyrie was precise and accurate, the Sanctus built to a thrilling climax and the Lacrimosa blossomed beautifully. The three young soloists were able to ride the large orchestra though their diction was often lost within the acoustic. The best moments came in the more reflective sections. Tenor Bradley Smith was movingly effective in Move him into the sun and bass-baritone Tristan Hambleton sympathetic in the final pages. Soprano Sofia Troncoso has the more difficult task as Britten needs a remarkably large voice to ride the emotional intensity of the orchestration. She seemed to grow in strength as the work progressed, producing ever more beautiful tone.

The choral forces produced strong tonal colour and some incisive rhythms but as with the soloists the text tended to get lost as soon as the volume increased. The girls’ choir in the gallery had the better deal as they were not required to fight with larger forces and impressed throughout.

The evening opened with an introductory talk from Barry Holden and a reading of a few of Wilfred Owen’s poems. We also had strict instructions not to applaud at any point. Given the venue this seemed to be attempting to turn the event into something more than a concert. This would not be a problem if clearly indicated beforehand but might have confused some of the audience. When Britten’s instructions on the way to perform the work are ignored, it is unclear why picking this one demand should be so crucial. Thanking the performers is normally a natural reaction not an expectation and it seemed strange not to be allowed to thank those involved.

Mayflower Theatre, Southampton, Wednesday 21 November 2018

Tanya McCallin’s sepulchral design is a fitting visual complement to David McVicar’s often stark and unromantic approach to a work which can too easily be sentimentalised. We are aware of death from the start and never allowed to forget the inevitable outcome of events. When this is added to an early nineteenth century moral straight-jacket there can be little hope for any of the protagonists. No matter how sorry they may feel for past action there is no way they can escape and it seems that even faith in the mercy of God is no match for the failure of society to forgive. As such it is one of the finest approaches to La Traviata I can recall, and this WNO revival is remarkably strongly cast in all areas.

The chorus are as strong as one could ask for, and carefully individualised in the two party scenes. Smaller parts, particularly James Cleverton’s Baron and Rebecca Afonwy-Jones’ Flora, are incisively characterised to create a naturalistic, if at times over indulgent, world within which events unfold.

Kang Wang’s Alfredo is very much the outsider here. His baritonal warmth, with no difficulty in the higher register, creates a deeply human if naïve young man. The fact that his costume never quite seems to fit was telling – he is growing in to his adulthood and making mistakes along the way. The fact that these mistakes become literally fatal is what turns the narrative into real tragedy. Roland Wood is finely sensitive as Giorgio Germont.  His changes of attitude are convincingly naturalistic and his relationship with Violetta is marked by his body-language as well as his voice.

Anush Hovhannisyan is magnificent as Violetta. Not a cough in sight but a body wracked with pain and a gradual, if inevitable, sense of collapse. The final act is deeply moving in her intense vulnerability, never able to do more than crawl and yet fighting all the time to live.

James Southall’s conducting allows the larger than life melodies to flow unhindered but concentrates on the moments of intimacy for internal detail.

This is a production that deserves to be revived frequently and hopefully seen more widely.