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

Coffee concerts are a highly civilised concept especially on a Sunday morning. And this last in the current Strings Attached season was enjoyable, not least because it was the first such concert I’ve managed to get to since the pandemic.

Joanna MacGregor, Brighton Philharmonic Orchestra’s artistic director, had teamed up with BPO leader Ruth Rogers and three other principal players. for this concert – the high point of which was all five of them on stage for Elgar’s Piano Quintet in A Minor Op 84 which dates from 1918.

In the opening movement they found an intriguing contrast between Elgarian “noblimente” and passages of witty lightness. This ensemble does plaintive very well and there was lots of palpable intercommunication in the adagio. Caroline Harrison is a strikingly expressive viola player and she gets lots of solo lead opportunities in this programme. It’s a joy, too, to see cellist Katherine Jenkinson actually grinning with pleasure during a particularly tasty duet passage with Harrison in the final movement.

The concert began with Two Pieces for String Quartet by Rebecca Clarke – more scope for Harrison because Clarke’s own instrument was viola so naturally it features prominently here. These lush, lyrical pieces, written just six years after the Elgar were a treat to hear because they were new to me. And I was especially interested because I recently read (and reviewed here) Leah Broad’s excellent book Quartet, which presents Clarke as one of four key women who changed the face of British classical music. The BPO Chamber Ensemble played them with plenty of warmth.

The second work in the first half was Faure’s 1879 Piano Quartet No 1. Joanna MacGregor, as ever, brings oodles of stage presence and earns my admiration for having enough tech-savvy confidence to play off an iPad at a public concert. Rather her than me! The ensemble found plenty of French romanatic passion in this work especially in the substantial first movement with its thick opening chords. And I really liked their account of the witty scherzo with all that light-as-a-feather pizzicato over rippling piano. Dynamic control and (I presume) assiduous counting gave us a pleasing adagio followed by a dramatic high speed lilt in the last movement. Ruth Rogers is a fascinating player to watch. It’s not the first time I’ve been struck by the expressive way she moves her body round the violin rather than the other way round. And it’s good to hear Nicky Sweeney’s excellent second violin with a clear voice of its own but also beautifully balanced.

One final point: I really don’t like the new (ish) habit of trying to give concerts titles as if they were art exhibitions or novels. It’s fatuous and contrived. This one was pointlessly called “English Landscapes” which ignored the fact that over a third of the programme was French.

Susan Elkin

It’s true. You really don’t need a cast of 50 sisters, cousins and aunts or whatever to make G&S work. In fact, in recent years, I’ve concluded that a bijoux cast is often better because, with strong performers, you can make every note, line and word crystal clear in a way that larger groups cannot usually do.

And so to Ruddigore, which came in 1887 imediately after The Mikado and before The Yeomen of the Guard, For decades I’ve struggled to understand why Gilbert and Sullivan’s magnificent gothic send-up isn’t better known. The score, which I’ve known and loved since my teens includes some of Sullivan’s loveliest gems.

Well perhaps this production will help to rectify that. It sits very happily in the gothic shabby chic of Wilton’s Music Hall where director Peter Benedict, who also appears as Sir Despard, has retrieved some of Gilbert’s cut dialogue and reordered some of the songs in order to make this complicated plot about ancestors, three men with the same surname, ghosts and the rest as clear as possible.

The talented cast is a mixture of opera-trained singers and those who’ve come via the musical theatre route and the difference is clear. Benedict himself, for example, is a terrific actor – all Hitchcock-ian menace and eyes – and very good indeed at diction but his singing style is more Noel Coward than Bryn Terfel.

Madeline Robinson, on the other hand, is every inch an opera singer with a stylish voice and fine acting skills. I’m always pleased when an audience, who don’t know it’s coming, laugh spontaneously at a Gilbert joke – such as “It says you must not hint – in print” and Robinson brings off that and lots of other lines with perfect timing. She also communicates every nuance of her feelings often with just a tilt of her head.

Rosemary Ashe, wheeled on whenever the three-person female chorus is on stage to bash out the alto line, is a strong character actor as Dame Hannah. And her expositionary number “Sir Rupert Murgatroyd”, brought forward in this production, is entertaining and certainly makes the plot as clear as it’s ever likely to be.

Graham Stone turns in a nice performance (modelled on Jim Carter’s Mr Carson in Downton Abbey?) as Old Adam – lots of on-stage gravitas and lovely bass singing especially in the madrigal “When the buds are blossoming” which brings the whole cast on stage – conducted by Steve Watt, dressed as the officiating clergyman.

The small band, below stage left, is directed by Tom Noyes on keys. The music is an interesting blend of recorded and live with some pleasing trumpet and reed work. Watt plays trumpet in the first half and then goes a good Sir Roderic in the second act. Yes, there’s a lot of ingenious versatility in this production.

Best of all, though, is violinist Luca Kocsmarszky, who sits above the band on stage at the side of the action. Dressed in draped Victorian floral velvet, she plays almost continuously in this re-orchestration, gazes at the action quizzically over her glasses and gestures at the cast with oodles of personality. When Charli Baptie (excellent) as Mad Margaret sings “To a garden full of roses” Kocsmarszky is leaning in and visibly duetting with her and it’s really rather beautiful.

Sullivan’s marvellous ghost music (Gilbert, apparently disliked it, deeming it too serious and comparing it with 50 lines of Paradise Lost inserted into a farce) sets the scene as splendidly as ever – with all those descending scales and minor key shivers before Roderic’s big number. The ghosts’ emergence from the pictures, traditionally presents a technical problem but this is the digital age so Tom Fitch gives us a projection of each ancestor singing in his or her frame, high on the back wall – which is fun.

Ashe and Watts are especially delightful in their love duet “There grew a little flower”. It’s an unusual song because his bass line is higher than her alto one and the effect – if it’s done well, as it is here – is magical.

The dialogue is a good blend of insertions and Gilbert’s cod-medieval stuff, including some which is often cut. I don’t, for example, remember ever having heard Rose’s line about the accusative case before. My favourite joke of the evening was Sir Ruthven (Joe Winter – good) desperate to commit a crime, ordering every on his estate to stay in because of a smallpox outbreak and then throwing a party for all his friends. His glee is delicious.

All in all a fine show, then, with just two minor caveats. First it’s a good idea to suggest at the beginning that we’re in the 21st century when the castle is now a weird Victorian hotel with hints of a horror film – but it’s not followed through and therefore becomes pointless. Moreover I’d prefer to listen to the overture (Geoffrey Toye’s 1920 version) than watch distracting supplementary on- stage mimed action.

Second, the reworked finale with the inclusion of a number “When a man has been a naught baronet”, which is often omitted, feels a bit jerky and abrupt. It means a clumsy shift from duple time to triple to get into the last “Happy the lily” and sounds awkward. It was cut in the 1920 revival but later reinstated for D’Oyly Carte productions. I think the finale works better without it.

Susan Elkin

                                               Ric Graebner – composer

The Musicians of All Saints – all of them accomplished professionals – have a mission to perform new and unusual works alongside the more conventional repertoire and allow audiences to experience challenging and unusual programmes. Central to this concert was the first performance of Ric Graebner’s 3rd Oboe Concerto. I was uncertain what to expect. A distinguished academic and composer now in his 80th year, Graebner has written in a wide range of unashamedly contemporary styles, including the use of electronic techniques. This work, however, is exhilarating, accessible and immediately enjoyable, based on conventional tonality and structure. It has an underlying sense of astringent restlessness and occasional references, conscious and unconscious, to other composers: on a personal level, there was much that reminded me of the best film scores of composers such as Herrmann and Korngold. As soloist, Clare Worth was superb. This is not a bravura piece of writing for the oboe, designed to show off technique and little else, but is nonetheless technically demanding. Clare showed her mastery through exquisite breath control in long, sustained phrases, demonstrating beautifully the oboe’s capacity for plangent lyricism, particularly in the second movement, and contrasting with the energy and percussiveness of the string writing throughout the work: indeed, the solo line often emerges from the string accompaniment, and her rapport with the players was impressive. Faster passages showed brilliant articulation, and she reflected well the more rustic, lively 6/8 tempo of the last movement, though the underlying harmonic sourness makes it unclear whether this is a dance-of-life or a dance-of-death. The string orchestra – a mere 17 of them – created an impressive range of tonal colour and volume, with accurate rhythmic definition and wonderful forte interjections, along with the creation of an atmosphere of uneasy serenity in the second movement and one of barely controlled excitement in the last movement. This was a difficult score, and the sheer variety of the string textures says much for both the writing, the exquisite musicianship and ensemble-work of the players and the skill of their director, Andrew Sherwood in creating a first-rate performance.

In the Handel Concerto Grosso which opened the concert, there was some strong upper-string playing underpinned and complemented by sensitive performances by the cellos and bass – I particularly liked the lower string sonority and the walking bass-line in the third movement. Different sections showed great rapport in the way in which motifs moved from part to part, and the overall balance was excellent, with some fine short solo passages. A measured approach avoided any temptation to over-romanticization and, quite simply, the music was able to speak for itself in an almost understated way. With its crisp delicacy, occasional echo effects and great crescendos, the final movement involved more variety of expression, but still undertaken with precision and discipline. Overall, this was a performance of consummate professionalism: with relatively few players and an acoustic which was quite dry, the smallest of errors would have been evident – there were none and the tuning was especially good in what is often exposed writing.

Josef Suk produced his Serenade for Strings as a tour de force when he was just 18, and reflects both the work of his father-in-law, Dvorak, along with other influences. It has remained his most popular work and allowed the Musicians to show the full range of their skills. There was highly effective rhythmic definition from the start in those sections which reflect the folk and dance tradition, highlighting especially the variations in rhythm in the second movement and the rhythmic intensity of the last The players produced some wonderfully lush, indulgent full-ensemble playing, together with dramatically controlled gradations in volume, effective changes in time signature and a disciplined use of rubato. The sustained playing in the wistful third movement was sublime, with some fine performances from the cellists at the start and from the upper strings in passages over a pedal bass. The final movement, with its contrasting sections, was dramatic and exciting, a fitting climax to a performance marked by the quality of disciplined ensemble playing and an amazing breadth of musical colour.

Much of the credit for this top-quality concert must go to Andrew Sherwood. His unassuming, almost minimalist style of conducting shows someone who has worked hard with his musicians and trusts them to work with each other with the minimum of direction in the concert-hall. He can be proud of the ensemble he has helped create.
Sadly, there were were only around 50 to enjoy this highly professional and distinctive performance. I hope more people will come to future concerts, details of which can be found at:
www.musiciansofallsaints.co.uk

Jonathan Watts