International organ series – Royal Festival Hall, 24 September 2015

It takes brave programming to open an organ series with a set of songs accompanied by acoustic guitar and piano. I am sure there was much puzzlement throughout the audience at this stage but the sequence of music that was to unfold during the evening was wonderfully diverse, yet brilliantly connected.

Bedroom Community is a collective of musicians founded by Valgeir Sigurdsson in Iceland in 2006. This group links musicians from across the world and allows their differing disciplines to cross pollinate in a highly creative fashion. As well as giving live performances the group has its own record label.

James McVinnie is well known as a solo organist and for his work with other musicians. He has held organ posts at Westminster Abbey and St Paul’s Cathedral. His association with Bedroom Communiuty is allowing him to further develop his interest in new repertoire and in promoting the organ in a wider sphere.

Following on from the opening songs by Puzzle Muteson a complete contrast was presented with Ben Frost’s There are no others, there is only us, a beautifully evocative piece for solo double bass and electronics, accompanying visuals of massed birds in flight.

The pre-concert talk highlighted themes of repeated structures (including song forms, ostinato and other minimalist techniques). These opening items served as an introduction to some of these ideas and the double-bass also brought us close to some of the deep tones of the organ pedals which were soon to be heard.

There was much new music throughout the evening, including the well formed set of three pieces by Nico Muhly – an organ solo, Rev’d Mustard his installation prelude, a piece for solo viola, Etude 3 and the last for the brilliantly paired marimba and organ, Beaming Music. It was refreshing to hear the organ being used alongside such different solo instruments – both were very effective partners.

Another musical element of the performance was the use of live electronics where sounds previously played were sampled and then manipulated as they were played back. This allowed for denser textures to be created as well as echos and loops that created an otherworldly impression. One example of this was the Bach chorale Ich ruf zu dir. This was played in conventional fashion on the organ and then developed by the addition of viola da gamba and live electronics, drawing on aspects of the original material and morphing it into something completely new by Valgeir Sigurdsson, I call to you.

Two large scale organ solos were highlights of the evening – Bach’s majestic Passacaglia & Fugue in C minor  and Philip Glass’ Mad Rush. Both were played with sensitivity as well as grandeur demonstrating James McVinney’s musicality and practical understanding of this instrument. (He gave one of the opening recitals in last year’s post-restoration series.) Mad Rush was a particularly thrilling, but not overpowering, performance.

The evening ended with a set of three pieces by Valgeir Sigurdsson, involving the whole ensemble. After a more meditative period the proceedings came to a close in upbeat celebratory style. It is clear that as well as the expertise and passion of all concerned one of the great strengths of Bedroom Community is its basis in genuine friendships that were very much in evidence throughout.

A bold experiment that really delivered!

Stephen Page

London Coliseum, Saturday 26 September 2015

One of the benefits of rare works is that you have little if any preconception as to how they should be staged. Dmitri Tcherniakov certainly takes liberties in his new staging of Shostakovich’s Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk but they are tightly controlled and never clash with the score. As a result the impact is often overwhelming, not least from the battery of brass in the side boxes.

For most of the evening the stage is filled with a bright modern factory, in the midst of which is a carpeted closet within which Katerina spends much of her time. Boredom is a key feature of the opening sections of the opera, but where the factory workers bring a rough, if often violent, humour to their lives, Katerina is self-absorbed and increasingly obsessed by her sexual frustration. This is not helped by the insensitive and often drunken attention of her father-in-law Boris. While his murder may not be morally acceptable it is certainly understandable in the claustrophobic circumstances in which she is forced to live.

As her relationship with Sergei develops, her obsessive traits become increasingly obvious to the point where she snaps and it is downhill from that point onwards. The final act is the furthest removed from any conventional approach. Where the score expects a large open space and a milling chorus of prisoners, we are given a tightly confined cell within which Sergei is able to have sex with Sonyetka while Katerina sleeps. It is brutal and unforgiving, as is her death at the hands of the prison guards. Forcing the chorus off-stage brings an entirely different focus to this final scene and we are ever more aware of the catastrophic effect on her life of Katerina’s inability to take control of her situation.

The work is cast from impressive strength with Patricia Racette an utterly convincing anti-heroine. Her self-control in the public scenes, putting up with abuse and violence, her icy stillness as she poisons her father-in-law, her gradual sexual melt-down are all crafted with a musicality and acting skill that is rare even today on the operatic stage.

John Daszak’s Sergei is a slippery individual, a rough workman who is used to getting his own way and does not care who gets hurt in the meantime. The voice retains its heroic edge and seems to improve with age. Robert Hayward’s fiercely sung Boris makes little effort to ingratiate himself and his death comes almost as a relief. Of the many smaller parts, Adrian Thompson was splendid as the Shabby Peasant, destroying the wedding breakfast even as he destroys Katerina’s plans.

But above all this was Mark Wigglesworth’s evening. This was his first production since taking over as Music Director and set an impressive standard with fine ensemble throughout and a sense of excitement which communicated easily across a long evening. ENO may have had some problems in recent months – let us hope that this marks a turning point.

Fresh from a packed summer at the Royal Albert Hall, the BBC Symphony Orchestra has hardly had time to breathe before the winter season is upon us, but given the enthusiasm they brought to Mahler’s 3^rd Symphony you could be forgiven for thinking they had spent the summer on the beach.

The sense of joy and excitement in the work radiated throughout, much of it emanating from Sakari Oramo. Sitting slightly to one side gave me a rather better view of the conductor than is often the case and I was struck by the number of times he was beaming at the players, almost carried away by the exuberance of the music. But there was no sense of emotional wallowing here. The opening movement was notable above all for its precision and clean lines. The passion came out of this sense of control rather than being allowed to run riot. If there are passages which seem over-naïve then they are meant to be and the clash of innocence and dramatic struggle against dark forces is ever present. Moments of pastoral lushness seemed all the more indulgent in the surrounding tension. The end of the first part was frenetic and exhilarating.

By contrast the second movement seemed self-indulgent in its beauty, and this lightness was carried over into the third movement even where the writing is dense and wild. The off-stage trumpet was finely balanced and led us gently towards O Mensch. Karen Cargill eased the text into the hall with great beauty of line but without becoming over-spiritual. The combined women’s voices of the BBCSO Chorus and Trinity Boys Choir brought jollity to the bells before the sudden change of mood into the final movement What God tells me. This finale was lovingly crafted with a sense of inevitability that never relapsed into the sentimental.

A magnificent performance with some exceptional solo playing – in particular the solo trombone of Helen Vollam.

And for all that we love the Proms – what a pleasure to be back at the Barbican in an acoustic which enables us to hear detail and value individual players in a way which we can never do at the RAH.

Elgar: The Dream of Gerontius 

Magdalena Kozena, Toby Spence and Roderick Williams 

BBC Proms Youth Choir & Vienna Philharmonic, Sir Simon Rattle

There was a palpable air of excitement in the Hall as a capacity crowd gathered on the penultimate evening of the 121^st Season. All the ingredients of this concert promised an evening of music of the highest quality. The audience was not to be disappointed.

Elgar’s setting of Newman’s words is a masterpiece in itself. The opening orchestral prelude leading into the first part transports the listener into a complex and involving sound world where the orchestra is an important force in its own right, alongside the vocal soloists and chorus. The whole work is charged with emotion. The through-composed structure (breaking only between the two parts) makes for an experience in which there is constant change and interplay between the various forces. It is a striking entry in the catalogue of English choral writing – highly individual and making a bold statement of the Catholic faith.

The forces gathered for this particular performance helped to make this an inspiring one. Under Sir Simon’s guidance the Vienna Philharmonic created sublime music from the outset. The vast forces of the orchestra, together with the equally impressive BBC Proms Youth Choir were a delightful combination. Youth and experience combined to great effect. As if this were not enough, the three soloists brought something special to the proceedings. Roderick Williams was impressive as the priest/ angel of agony. His marvellously rich voice was able to make its way through the orchestral forces at all times. Toby Spence gave a very committed performance, even if, occasionally, his voice was partially eclipsed by the instrumental forces. Likewise, Magdalena Kozena, gave a more gentle performance as the angel, making for some beautifully restrained passages. Unfortunately this resulted in a number of occasions when her delivery was not powerful enough to be heard through the orchestra.

Despite the grand scale there were many instances of the still small voice. Chorus and orchestra were well controlled and focussed, not in a mechanical way, but responding brilliantly to their conductor’s direction.

For much of the evening I was entranced. I have used the word performance but I suspect that for many in the audience, and on stage, this was more an act of devotion. A captivating experience.

Stephen Page

Birmingham Symphony Hall, 8 September 2015

The 25^th anniversary season was launched last night with the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra under Sir Simon Rattle in Elgar’s The Dream of Gerontius. The same forces will be giving a repeat performance on Friday at the Proms, but given a choice to hear it in London or Birmingham there was no hesitation – it had to be Birmingham. I have been covering performances since the hall opened and it is still the finest orchestral venue in the country, and last night proved the point yet again.

I can’t recall the first part of Gerontius as compellingly performed or as musically beautiful. The radiance of the string sound and the total sense of an orchestra playing as a single instrument was encapsulated as I have never heard before. Added to this, Sir Simon Rattle’s sensitivity to the score, his loving attention to detail, both orchestral and choral was obvious throughout. The prelude was slow unfolding but with a sombre sense of inevitability which held throughout the first half. The work was being performed without an interval so it is possible that Proms listeners may not pick up the subtle difference between the two halves. Where the intensity of Gerontius’ pain and anxiety informed the first half, there was a genuine sense of calm within the second which carried through even to the Demon’s chorus and the meeting with God. It was as if, on this occasion, there was no doubt as to the outcome of Gerontius’ judgement – he was saved and the score supported the joy inherent in this.

Essential to that sense of joy was the magnificent singing of the BBC Proms Youth Choir under Simon Halsey. The text was surprisingly clear, given the large numbers involved, and the clarity of sound often overwhelming. Go forth and Praise to the Holiest were spine-tingling in their intensity, but the hushed moments were equally impressive with ppps held easily without losing impact.

Toby Spence is a virile Gerontius, more secure in his faith musically than the text might indicate and he rose to key moments with ease. Firmly I believe was heroically challenging and Take me away was less a cry for help than a realisation of the glory of the presence of his Lord.

In the two bass roles Roderick Williams brought not only nobility but a nuance to each which allowed for individual characterisation. The angel of the agony seemed to have a more humane, gentler tone than the grandeur of the Priest.

Magdalena Kozena as the Guardian Angel was more problematic. The overriding difficulty was with the text. Where all the other singers gave us great clarity, her singing, given her Czech background, was clouded and words often did not carry. Added to this the bottom range of the voice did not seem particularly strong. While there were many moments of great beauty – her emphasis on One Moment and the start of Softly and gently – too often we seemed to be hearing an indication of what the part was about rather than the part itself. Her approach was also highly operatic with a large amount of physical movement which did not seem in keeping with the score. In any other performance her singing may have been perfectly acceptable, but in the given circumstances, with so much around her that was as close to perfection as we are likely to get, it created an imbalance which even Rattle and the VPO could not overcome. After such a fine first half, the second simply did not quite live up to the promise.

It will be interesting to see how she comes across in the Royal Albert Hall. I suspect listeners at home may get a better impression that those listening live in the hall.

We shall see.

Saturday 29 August 2015

The celebration of Sibelius’ major works came to a fittingly triumphal conclusion with Kullervo. The BBC Symphony Orchestra and (Men’s) Chorus were joined by the stentorian forces of the Polytech Choir from Helsinki to provide a formidable onslaught in the third and final movements. Sakari Oramo allows this early work the violence and passion inherent in the text while also finding the delicacy of the woodland moments and introspection which may not be natural to the anti-hero but certainly were to the composer and to those of us listening.

Sakari Oramo allows the Brucknerian overtones to evolve naturally but they are never more than allusions to grandeur. The second movement was taken quite rapidly building to thrilling climaxes which had hints of Janacek in the growing atmosphere of unease.

Johanna Rusanen-Kartano is probably the finest interpreter of the Sister in the third movement and she brings an innocence and feistiness to her singing which adds to the tension and forward thrust of the score. Waltteri Torikka’s bluff hero made a shattering impact at the end of the third movement as he realises the enormity of his act.

The BBC Symphony Orchestra responded with subtlety to the demands made upon them not only by the score but by Sakari Oramo’s tight conducting. Brass were particularly impressive in explosive moments and the woodwind on top form in their many exposed moments.

Before the interval we heard En Saga. The piece is something of a rarity compared with the rest of the Sibelius opus, which is surprising given its wealth of detail and range of musical ideas. Maybe the lack of a programme leaves some confused as to its narrative, but like Strauss’ tone poems there is an internal logic and sense of forward movement throughout which holds the attention at all times. The opening murmuring strings have a gentle optimism from which arose snatches of folk-like melodies. Sections of poised, calm repose hold us spellbound before the headlong dash towards the next dramatic climax.

The evening was a splendid way to complete a fine set of Sibelius performances this season.

Thierry Eschaich, Willis Organ, Royal Albert Hall 23 August 2015

Presenting a programme of solo organ music based upon chorales, French virtuoso Thierry Escaich made his second appearance at the Proms (the first being four years ago). There is no doubt that he is a fine organist, displaying remarkable technique as a player, composer and improviser, as well as having an impressive command of the RAH’s substantial organ.

As well as the music of Lutheran hymnody items in the programme were linked by the development of organ music through Bach, Brahms and Mendelssohn and to the present day with the improvisational and compositional work of the performer.

This was an extremely interesting concert. I appreciated the contrasts between the linked material and there were some moments of sheer delight. The opening Passacaglia and Fugue in C minor (Bach) set the scene well for what was to follow. This was a highly romantic interpretation with varied registration throughout, including some lighter moments. Brahms’ Prelude & Fugue in G minor  followed and then came the first of the evening’s pairings  of a chorale prelude, Herzliebster Jesu and a re-interpretation (Chorale-Etude) by Escaich. This work short work was a furious, fragmented take on the theme, far removed from Brahms’ prelude.

Throughout the prom four of these Chorale-Etudes were heard, in widely differing styles. The second, Nun freut euch, ihr Christen, was less fragmentary but still with jazz influences in evidence. Herzlich tut mich verlangen used the plaintive chorale melody in its entirety as it collided with a seemingly atonal onslaught. As a commentary on Christ’s crucifixion it certainly served to de-sanitise the scene and created an atmosphere of tension and agony. I didn’t particularly like it – but perhaps that was the point.

As well as Bach and Brahms we heard Mendelssohn’s Organ Sonata in A major, No 3, unusual in that it consists of just two movements.

Whilst an interesting programme, with clear links I have to say that as the evening progressed I became a  little tired of hearing so much loud and furious organ music. I longed for the quieter moments when solo stops and subtle combinations came to the fore. I also prefer a plainer approach to registration when it comes to much of Bach’s output. Howeve, the highlights of this concert for me came at the end of each half when we were treated to two marvellous improvisations on themes by Bach.

The first, a Prelude & Fugue, was a wonderful demonstration of Thierry Escaich’s improvisational skills. Freed from the musical score (beyond the fragment that had been presented to him) an imaginative musical structure was grown as aspects of the theme were given various treatments of registration, texture, rhythm and tonality. In the hands (and feet) of the skilled improviser the organ becomes a palette from which to select and mix these various elements – and here we had a remarkable demonstration of how successful and thrilling this can be.

The second improvisation (Suite on themes by J.S.Bach) developed this art even further as extreme contrasts and endless invention transported the audience to a very special place. In both improvisations there were passages where it was easy to imagine a silent movie dictating the structure of the music as well as moments of ethereal beauty. In the final improvisation much use was made of shimmering upper flutes and strings as well as the celeste, perhaps harking back to musical settings by Holst and built to a stunning Toccata climax.

I could have listened to a whole evening of improvisation by Thierry Escaich at this console.

Stephen Page

21 August 2015
BBC Symphony Orcheatra, Sakari Oramo,

Stephen Farr, Organ

The programme began with the symphonic poem, Tapiola, Sibelius’ last major work. Tapiola is the Finnish god of the forests and this work has a cinematic quality as it evokes mystery, timelessness and grandeur. The score is dominated by the large string section which moves between sustained and understated line to powerful tremolando. This was a magical start to the evening, amply demonstrating the tightness and control of conductor and orchestra.

Jon Leifs’ music has only recently become more widely known. He is often described as a maverick and the work performed here certainly shows an individuality that is characteristic of his music. Organ Concerto, Op 7 was completed in 1930 but began life in 1917. This three movement work draws on vast orchestral forces including a large percussion section. As the programme note points out, “The work starts as it means to go on, with an ear-splittingly dissonant chord on the full organ, reinforced later by the orchestra”. The middle movement Passacaglia begins in conventional fashion as it slowly builds in texture and volume but as it develops there are passages influenced by jazz and military bands. The Finale teases as successive false endings build in intensity to its climax. Throughout the work there is much dialogue between the organ and various sections of the orchestra and there was a sense of dedication and purpose in the performance despite the wonderful madness of it all! Stephen Farr’s performance at the organ was impressive and greatly appreciated by the audience. This was rewarded by a gentle solo encore.

Further contemporary sounds were experienced  in the UK premiere of Anders Hillborg’s Beast Sampler, given in the presence of the composer. Like Tapiola this piece is an evocation of aspects of the natural world. As well as using ‘almost pitchless’ wind sounds, ‘seagull glissandos’ and other effects the piece covers a huge dynamic range, often moving rapidly from pppp to ffff. This was another tightly controlled performance, displaying great musical skill as well as Sakari Oramo’s conviction in leading the ensemble.

The final work was the most traditional of all, Beethoven’s Symphony No 7 in A major. Throughout this piece there was a lightness and sense of movement that allowed the music to sing and have life without feeling overplayed. The second movement Allegretto was allowed to breathe and danced along without feeling forced and the Presto sections of the third movement had a real sense of fun and vitality. Great use of dynamics was made throughout, my only criticism being (as in earlier pieces) that the extremely soft passages were almost inaudible and I wonder how that would be experienced by those listening on the radio.

This was an exciting and at times challenging programme. I personally would have preferred to have ended the evening with the climactic Organ Symphony. Perhaps there was a  feeling that the evening needed to end in safer and more familiar territory.

Stephen Page

15 – 17 August 2015

There have been many Sibelius Symphony Cycles over recent years and I’m lucky enough to have been at some of them. This BBC cycle was, however, rather different – two orchestras and three conductors. In what sense, other than the fact that all seven symphonies would be heard, was this to be a cohesive cycle? In the event the planning did make sense with the three conductors bringing individual strengths to the works they led.

On Saturday the BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra was conducted by Thomas Dausgaard, taking us through the First and Second Symphonies from memory. His approach seemed to look back to the romanticism of Tchaikovsky in the warmth and wash of the phrasing. His rather flowery style meant that on occasions in the First Symphony the ensemble was not totally together and there were passages which came close to falling apart. By the end of the fourth movement the sense of direction was clearer and we were at last approaching a sense of Sibelian style rather than a generalised romanticism.

The Second Symphony fared rather better with a leanness to the opening movement but the second movement lacked bite. The fast tempi helped the final movements and the symphony reached its heroic climax with aplomb.

The evening had opened with an enthusiastic if rather heart-on-sleeve rendition of Finlandia. Thankfully Promenaders do not know the words or it could have been like Land of Hope and Glory.

On Sunday the orchestra was conducted by Ilan Volkov who brought a sense of immediacy and bite which had been missing the previous evening. It was more than just the writing itself. The Third Symphony is a world away from the Second but the clean, crisp entries and attention to rhythm meant we were in an altogether different place. It was almost as if it were a different orchestra and puts paid to any idea that the conductor does not make a difference!

The second movement brought gentle wind and a warm melancholy, followed in the third by unnerving accuracy from the brass, rising to a finely formed climax.

If the Fourth Symphony brings tiny moments of hope they are fleeting and by the end the bleakness and near suicidal depression have set in. The echoes of Parsifal are there throughout but it is music between acts two and three – there is no hope of resolution or outcome – merely a need to go on in the face of inevitable despair. All of this was magnificently found by the orchestra with superb detailing throughout.

It may have been positioning the Violin Concerto between the Third and Fourth Symphonies that gave it an unusually astringent and introspective feel. Julian Rachlin was a persuasive soloist, with an inner tension and a real sense of loss in the slow movement. The finale was chunky in approach and determined, as if it was going to be cheerful no matter what the odds.

The deeply felt encore – not by Sibelius – was a tribute to Julian Rachlin’s technical brilliance and depth of feeling.

Monday brought new forces – the BBC Symphony Orchestra under Osmo Vanska. I am lucky enough to have heard him with the Lahti Symphony Orchestra some years ago and it is fascinating how his approach to these later symphonies has matured and changed over time. The Fifth Symphony opened slowly with much menace, allowing the moments of joy and release to be all the more effective. The slow movement ached to be more romantic but could never quite tear itself away from the present, while the finale, launched with zest, came across in a flurry of energy and finely crafted climaxes.

The Sixth opened with restless energy which never quite seemed to find a sense of direction – a perfectly sound reading of the score and one which made sense of the bleakness of the second movement. If the sun comes out occasionally in the third movement it is a wintery warmth, fading rapidly. The finale was light, crisp and fresh until it dies gently away. A masterly reading and challenging at the same time.

I had never really thought of Bruckner as a potential influence on Sibelius but there were passages in the Seventh Symphony which Osmo Vanska crafted into huge, mountainous peaks, with a sustained intensity which carried the single movement through to its subdued close. Again, an unusual but convincing approach which brought the cycle to a close. I doubt if anybody except the BBC could mount a cycle like this but the outcome certainly justified the thinking behind it.

Cadogan Hall, Monday 17 August 2015

Stephen Sondheim’s 85^th Birthday so what better way to celebrate than a lunchtime cabaret from some of the most gifted interpreters of his works.

The programme had been compiled and was introduced from the piano by Richard Sisson who gave as little information as was necessary for background before concentrating on the music and words from the master. In the event, the hour passed all too quickly and we could easily have sat through far more. Much of this was due to the infectious ability of Jamie Parker to change characters on an instant – including accents – and carry every word with ease. Maybe it is something to do with the musical – as opposed to operatic – voice. While Kitty Whately sang with great beauty of line, the text was not always as clear, and in Sondheim this is essential. Her stage presence, and gentle sensuality, was however, charming throughout.

Sian Phillips is a master at the clarity of diction needed, and her rendition of Liaisons was a masterclass in itself. She joined in the later ensembles which brought the afternoon to a close.

Two unexpected pieces crept in in the form of arrangements for saxophone of Send in the Clowns and By the Sea which were played by Anthony Brown. While nicely done it seemed a shame in such a short programme not to have had the songs sung.

When Sibelius’ anniversary is being given such high prominence this year, surely Sondheim was worth rather more than an hour?