I Fagiolini, Glyndebourne, Sunday 7 May 2017

Robert Hollingworth made some very interesting comments before the performance commenced. While these vespers are not as well-known as the regularly performed Vespers of 1610 they are, nevertheless, a complete liturgical recreation of Vespers of the period. As such he pointed out that we were involved in an act of worship just as much as if we were in a church or cathedral, and requested that we did not applaud until the end of each half.

His remarks raise a number of fascinating theological points which lay outside the remit of this review but reflect on the continuing, and wide scale, interest in religious music at a time when the believe systems which they support have been widely rejected. Few churches mounting these vespers liturgically would get anything like the response we saw at Glyndebourne yesterday. But then of course few churches can provide the sort of frisson which we got from I Fagiolini and the English Cornett & Sackbut Ensemble.

The Vespers are built around five psalm settings, a hymn, the Magnificat and the final Salve Regina. The Antiphons before each psalm were chanted but their liturgically necessary repeats were replaced – as was conventional in the seventeenth century – by instrumental versions of the text. Consequently, while the majority of the vocal items were by Monteverdi, we heard a Canzon by Viadana, a Sonata for solo violin by Uccellini – which brought the only spontaneous applause of the evening – a Toccata by Frescobaldi and a final sonata by Usper for cornetts and organ. All immaculately played and highly sensuous. In fact it was this tactile quality which seemed to inform the whole event. There was a latent eroticism to many moments of Monteverdi’s settings and a richness to Gabrielli’s Magnificat of 1615 which seemed to surpass any simply liturgical need.

The final Salve Regina was spine-tingling in its impact. A solo tenor and lute, crystal clarity of text and line, melting into silence.

I Fagiolini will be performing the other vespers across the rest of the year – details on www.ifagiolini.com

Devonshire Park Theatre, Eastbourne, Sunday 2 April 2017

New Sussex Opera have done so much good work over the years, and given us so many splendid evenings of opera, it is a shame not to be more enthusiastic about this most recent production. The fault is not theirs – unless one blames them for choosing it in the first place – but Delius’ folk tale really does not carry enough dramatic weight to keep the audience engaged across the six scenes. That the final two scenes come slightly more alive, and include the finest music of the piece with the Walk to the Paradise Garden, does little to make up for the lack of musical variety or characterisation in the first four.

Thankfully there is some fine playing from the ensemble under Lee Reynolds and the chorus makes an impression in the little it has to do. Luke Sinclair sings Sali with a sense of style and frequent lyrical beauty, but his presence too often seemed detached from the reality around him. Kirsty Taylor-Stokes’ Vrenchen was equally positive vocally but her costume and demeanour too often made her look simplistic rather than naïve. This may have been an idea of the director Susannah Waters to play them like Hansel and Gretel rather than Pelleas and Melisande, but if so it did not really fit with the stark utilitarianism of the setting. The fathers were strongly cast with Robert Gildon and Geoffrey Moses bringing tension to the opening minutes but this is lost in the miasma Delius creates around them, draining the potential tension of the relationship.

Ian Beadle’s Dark Fiddler – here played like the Sandman and as such giving yet another echo of Hansel – was strongly sung and as credible as the score would allow.

There was an excellent programme – not always the case with smaller companies – from which I note that they will bring us Gluck’s Orfeo next year. Now that will be worth going to – no problem with that being a masterpiece.

St Mary in the Caste, Hastings, Saturday 1 April 2017

A Mozart concert and my immediate thought was – where are the oboes? But then one realises that, somewhat surprisingly, Mozart does not use them in either the 39^th Symphony or in the Requiem. This was not the only factor which united the two works, for both are late and reflective of the whole of Mozart’s output.

The evening opened with the 39^th Symphony, the balance seeming at first to highlight the Haydnesque influences rather than the more prophetic hints of Beethoven which follow in the yearning, near soulful lines from the bassoons, which flower so beautifully in St Mary’s acoustic. The strings were not to be outdone by the brass, coming into their own in the finale with tight, bouncing figuration which held the dance rhythms throughout.

After the interval came an impassioned reading of the Requiem. The chorus were in excellent voice here and the rhythms were crisp and clean throughout. There was a real sense of bite in the Rex tremendae, an empathic sensitivity in the Lacrimosa and joy in the Sanctus. Phrasing was finely crafted and balance throughout excellent.

The four young soloists were both well balanced across their voices and finely characterised. There was an urgency and lift from soprano Emily Bradley and tenor Wagner Moreira, with warmth and character from mezzo Ayaka Tanimoto and bass Dan D’Souza.

Between these works we heard Morten Lauridsen’s Lux Aeterna whose five movements are drawn from the Latin Requiem Mass. His writing is strongly romantic in feel and the opening section in particular creates long waves of musical sound which overlap and float across each other, flooding the church with wonderful sound. He often asks the chorus to sing unaccompanied which puts more weight on them to hold the pitch, though a splendid central section draws on a solo cello for support to superb effect.

If, in the end, it proves to be rather too long for the quality of its invention, the final sections pull together well and the conclusion is effective and fitting.

There was no text or translation available in the programme, though this did have the side effect of ensuring everyone was listening attentively.

Marcio da Silva, as we have become accustomed, directed the whole with authority and precision. He is a real asset to Hastings.

The next concert in the series – and another first for Hastings Philharmonic – is at the same venue on Saturday 20 March when the orchestra will perform Brahms Second Symphony.

The Dome, Brighton, Sunday 26 March 2017

Barry Wordsworth returned to conduct the final concert of the season and was enthusiastically welcomed home by the audience in the Dome. It has been an interesting season, with some unusual choices of works – none more so than this last concert.

It opened with Kodaly’s Dances of Galanta which draw heavily on Hungarian folk rhythms and dances. Written in 1933, the five movements flow into each other, becoming increasingly enthusiastic as they evolve, until the final, joyful outpouring – a good scene setter, which moved comfortably into Schumann’s piano concerto, with Martin Roscoe as soloist. Despite the flamboyance of much of the writing, Martin Roscoe is a very cool performer. There are no histrionics to his presence on the platform. All we get is exceptional music-making which allows the score to unfold and speak for itself. It was a masterly display of understatement which enabled Schumann’s many delights to emerge along the way.

Few in the audience will have heard Scriabin’s Second Symphony before. It is a real rarity. Though many will know his Poeme de l’extase I can’t recall a performance of the Second Symphony in recent years. It is a bit like Marmite. If you are happy to indulge yourself in his post-Tristan harmonies, with the constant shifting of melodic fragments within a sea of late romantic orchestration it works very well. The long slow movement is more complex. It seems to drift, rather as much of Delius can seem to do, though without the British composer’s overall sense of direction.  Thankfully, the first and last movements are well structured and the whole reaches a fine climax with a march motif for the brass which rings with real panache.

The next season has been announced and there are a large number of highly popular works on offer, opening on 8^th October with Tchaikovsky’s Piano Concerto No 1 – with Alexandra Dariescu as soloist – and Brahms Third Symphony. Details and tickets from www.brightonphil.org.uk

Mote Hall, Maidstone, Saturday 25 March 2017

This performance was heralded as a Charity Concert in support of the High Sheriff of Kent’s charity Oasis, managing to combine an evening of wonderful music-making with support for an essential cause – working to end domestic violence and abuse.

The High Sheriff, Mrs Kathrin Smallwood, was present along with a clutch of worthies all wearing their respective chains and badges of office. I hope they enjoyed the event as much as the regular members of the audience for there was certainly a great deal to enjoy.

The evening opened with the overture to Smetana’s The Bartered Bride. This demonstrated the real strengths of the string section, starting as it does with the second violins and frequently drawing on them to lead. The fluidity and sense of close ensemble across the strings is now exceptionally high as this proved.

Amy Harman was the soloist for Mozart’s Bassoon Concerto K191 and gave us a gently mellifluous interpretation which sat comfortably across the lighter orchestration. Mozart only uses strings, horns and oboes, so that the deeper tones of the bassoon are allowed to flourish by themselves, producing a warm depth of tone in contrast to the brighter sounds of the accompaniment. In the final Rondo Mozart leaves the main theme for the soloist until the very end, concentrating instead on a heady cloud of ornamentation which Amy Harman brought off with both skill and charm.

It was a pity that – due to personal circumstances – she was not able to bring us the original second item, but in the event it was possibly our gain as we experienced one the finest renditions of Finlandia I have heard in many a year. The growling brass brought a sense of menace and fire to the opening and the tymps were splendidly aggressive throughout – much thanks to Keith Price. One could sense the swell of hatred towards the Russians as Finland sought its independence. The great final hymn came across as a sign of thanksgiving in anticipation – this was after all seventeen years before the independence whose anniversary is celebrated this year – and the finale was genuinely thrilling.

If the glories of Sibelius’ Second Symphony did not quite match the thrill of Finlandia it was certainly no reflection on the performance itself.

The opening of the first movement may still hark back to Tchaikovsky in its string writing but it soon moves towards a starker voice which we know is pure Sibelius. The biting woodwind and bleakness carry over into the second movement where the sun peeps out occasionally but is as soon lost to sight. It is not until the fury of the third movement that we feel there is some hope – a hope gloriously vindicated in the finale with its soaring flights of brass and a sense that dogged determination will win out in the end – as it did.

There is still one concert to go this season – Saturday 20 May 2017 with works by Mussorgsky, Dvorak and Tchaikovsky.

Jerwood Gallery, Hastings, Friday 11 March 2017

A new orchestra in a new music venue, with an adventurous approach to programming. As we entered the Jerwood Gallery, we were gently engulfed in the sound of the sea breaking against the shore, and this image was to stay with us throughout the evening. Rather than simply play through works by Debussy and Britten, sandwiching the new pieces in between – as would have been the conventional approach – we were given a sequence of musical events which flowed effortlessly into each other.

The first half opened with the first of five interludes based on lines from Sea Fever, specially composed for the event by Steffan Rees. The setting for two cellos reflected on grey mist on the sea’s face before a seamless transition into Dawn and Sunday Morning from Britten’s Four Sea Interludes from Peter Grimes. What was immediately obvious was that, while we were seeing a chamber orchestra, the sound within the close acoustic of the Jerwood was wonderfully immediate, with the rolling brass and bell for Sunday morning ringing out with spectacular effect.

The second new interlude, the wind’s song, seemed to take up the emotional intensity of the Britten and extend it, drawing on the same tonal palette. On paper a transition at this point to Debussy might look difficult but the hushed opening of La Mer was given great clarity, with nuanced playing from the harp. It was easy to see the connection then to the flung spray and the blown spume with its energetic forces and brittle edges, calming eventually back to the warmth of the cellos.

Moonlight brought the first half to a conclusion but even the interval had something different to offer in the form of a new cocktail. In keeping with the sea theme, our glasses had samphire rather than lemon and the subtle saltiness was remarkably effective.

There was a romantic intensity to a grey dawn breaking, as we returned, before the second part of La Mer and the Storm sequence from Peter Grimes. The intensity of attack here was shattering given the confined space and precision of the playing. Steffan Rees’ final interlude the lonely sea and the sky served as a bridge to the concluding item, with a gentler opening giving way to a full romantic – almost Mahlerian – enthusiasm. The third part of La Mer brought the evening to a close and a heartfelt desire that this should not be the only occasion that we are able to hear the Arensky Chamber Orchestra.

The Jerwood proved itself to be a valuable performing space for smaller ensembles, though the limited audience capacity will always be a problem without significant subsidy if prices are not to be outside of the reach of normal concert goers. Let us hope that the quality of this event enables the support for the orchestra to continue – Will Kunhardt and his young musicians certainly deserve it.

The Dome, Brighton, Sunday 5 March 2017

Earlier in the day, 500 children had sat in on the rehearsal for this concert and been enthralled by Enescu’s Romanian Rhapsody No1 – and understandably so. Having a Romanian conductor, Christian Mandeal, conducting Romanian music is still a rarity even today. It was easy to see why the work had been chosen as a showcase for classical music to a young audience, for it is alive with colour and wonderfully intricate detail. The warmly rich solo viola part suddenly lifts out of the orchestra as a whole, and later the solo piccolo thrills as it cuts through the weight of the whole orchestra.

This wildly romantic work is full of heady rhythmic subtleties which are electrifying.  Would that he heard music of this intensity and sheer visceral enjoyment more often.

If the rest of the afternoon did not quite live up to the excitement of the opening this was not the fault of the works themselves or the performances. Chloe Hanslip was the soloist in Korngold’s Violin Concerto. Though heralded as a genius in his youth, he is best known today as the writer of a large number of film scores. The concerto is based on a number of these and while its romantic melodies are engaging it never really rises to the emotional impact it promises at the start. The second movement in particular tends to drift rather than move forward purposefully, though the work is redeemed by the more dynamic pirate music of the finale. Chloe Hanslip played with intensity and convincing attention to detail.

It is always interesting hearing Elgar performed by conductors who come to the scores from an entirely different tradition. Sakari Oramo’s performances with the BBC Symphony Orchestra have often been revelatory. If Christian Mandeal’s approach to the First Symphony was not quite in this class he brought a beautifully developed sense of line and much lovely phrasing in the construction of long paragraphs. He was aware of the smallest of details, allowing tiny moments to blossom – a sudden fleet bassoon line; a falling brashness from the trombones – and capture the imagination in ways we may not have heard before. The second movement scampered alarmingly with a real hint of menace in the march sections. There was a glorious introspection in the slow movement with hints of Wagner and Mahler, the composer looking in both directions while taking his own course.

The finale blazed as expected and brought the afternoon to a triumphant conclusion. More Enescu next season?

The final concert this season is on Sunday 26 March with works by Kodaly, Schumann and Scriabin.