London Philharmonic Orchestra, Ryan Wigglesworth

1 May 2013, Royal Festival Hall

The combination of Vaughan William’s Fourth Symphony and Tippett’s A Child of Our Time was almost too much for one evening. The raw emotional energy of the symphony, which never seems to let up even in the quieter moments, was driven with relentless passion by Ryan Wigglesworth, helping us to experience the explosive danger the work must have had for the original listeners in 1935. That it can still shock is a tribute not only to the performers but the work itself. The combination of near rigid classical structures with a post-romantic energy creates a frisson throughout which is constantly exciting.

The opening of A Child of Our Time seemed almost Elgarian by comparison, and as the work unfolded it was fascinating to note how often the younger composer reflected Elgar, where Vaughan Williams had seemed far more modern. Not that Tippett is reliant on anything as obvious as a conventional oratorio for his structure, but that his writing deliberately moves between the familiar and the more challenging. If anything it is his text which still brings us up short, rather than the musical setting itself.

The dynamic range of the London Philharmonic Choir impressed, with the hushed romanticism of the fruitful land contrasted with the almost bombastic outpouring of The trumpet sounds within a my soul. The spiritual settings have always found favour, often being performed separately from the rest of the work, though here they were integrated without compromise, the narrative flowing easily between chorus and soloists. The final Deep River and earlier Go Down Moses were very moving.

Claire Booth was a late substitute for Rebecca Evans, and while she has a secure upper register she was not quite able to breathe the long lines Tippett needs. Pamela Helen Stephen characterised the different alto voices with skill and Matthew Rose carried across orchestra and chorus with authority. Ben Johnson has the innocence for the Boy, but his voice was often lost in ensemble.

The London Philharmonic brass and woodwind excelled themselves throughout and the performance was very warmly received from a full house. BH

Friday 12 April

The second day of the festival opened with a masterclass from the Caroducci Quartet and a lunchtime concert from the Benyounes Quartet.  Later that afternoon the Trinity Laban String Ensemble was joined by the Benyounes Quartet in the Old Royal Naval College Chapel. Due to train delays I unfortunately missed the opening Schnittke but was comfortably seated in time for a ravishing performance of Elgar’s Introduction and Allegro for Strings. The fact that the higher strings were all standing seemed to give a greater impact to the ensemble with a richness and warmth often missing in larger concert halls. A live performance also highlights the quartet’s relationship to the main ensemble and the sensitivity of Elgar’s scoring for them. There was an eagerness and bite to the playing which impressed as well as a readiness to accept the sentimental edge of the more reflective passages.

Shostakovich’s Chamber Symphony in C minor – an arrangement by Rudolf Barshai of the Eighth String Quartet – could hardly have been more different and highlighted the versatility of the ensemble. The opening may be bleak but it was the intensity of the Allegro Molto which galvanised the listener. The Allegretto dances its way forward – with hints of the Dance of Death rather than a folk festival and the brooding Largos drew the work to its uncompromising close. The anger in these final pages would seem to deny any suicidal tendencies, but this is a powerfully disturbing work, and played with relish. Ani Karapetyan was an impressive soloist in this arrangement, and the ensemble was sensitively conducted by Nic Pendlebury.

In the evening we were back in the chapel for the Quatuor Mosaiques, who play period instruments with gut strings. After many hours of modern instruments it took a little time to adjust to the softer, less focussed tones of the quartet. They opened with three fugues by Gregor Werner for which Haydn had provided slow introductions. Only the third – an Adagiose – proved of any real interest, and the fugues by Werner were pleasant but uninvolving.

Haydn’s own F minor quartet, Op20 No5, followed and proved more satisfactory. The opening Moderato demonstrated how forward looking his composition was even at this early stage and the hesitant Menuet fascinates in its seeming inability to decide where it is going. The Adagio brings a necessary respite before the solid ground of the fugal Finale.

As part of the late Beethoven cycle, the quartet ended their concert with Op130 and the Grosse Fugue. There was a slight mismatch between the printed programme and their performance. We had read that the quartet would be performed in Beethoven’s revised version with the new shorter final movement, followed by a separate performance of the Grosse Fugue. In the event we were given the original version, with the Grosse Fugue as the final movement. No problem, but a jolt to the system when they launched unexpectedly into the Grosse Fugue. The performance was well shaped, though the use of gut strings in this acoustic tends to soften the details to the point where, in the Presto, they became fudged. The Andante was more expressive and the Alla danza maintained a seductive rhythm. The Cavatina again lost some detail in the inner voices, but clarity returned for the final movement, with impressive authority and sense of structure.

The final day brings more workshops and the site specific world premiere of Deirdre Gribbin’s Hearing Your Genes Evolve on the Cutty Sark. BH

 www.trinitylaban.ac.uk

Thursday 11 April

The weather seemed to have turned just in time to welcome the newly named Royal Greenwich String Quartet Festival, which must boast some of the finest venues in the Capital. Coming out of the Old Royal Naval College Chapel on Thursday evening the air was mild, the building delicately floodlit and across the river Canary Wharf twinkled delightfully. It was the sort of magic we have been waiting for across a long hard winter.

The day was centred on a Chamber Music Bonanza – a cluster of sessions for student musicians, working with lead professionals and the Carducci Quartet, culminating in an afternoon concert in St Alfege’s Church. The opening Brahms’ Violin Sonata had a little difficulty with balance, the piano being rather overpowering, but it ended well. Two movements from Haydn quartets showed strong rapport from a quartet of students who appeared to have come together relatively recently. They also showed a good understanding of Haydn’s humour.

The Pierrot Trio played the first movement of Beethoven’s Eb Trio Op1 No1, with excellent balance, and a fine performance of the Andante from Shostakovich’ Piano Trio No2 Op67. The muted cello at the opening was very impressive, and the transitions within the movement were well controlled.

The Vilaseca Quartet brought the most challenging music of the afternoon with three works by Britten. The opening Alla Marcia sounded distinctly uncomfortable, as if a pacifist had been forced to write a military march, and all the more convincing for the tension created. The Rhapsody for String Quartet is equally challenging in the near ferocity of the writing, which the quartet handled with surprising ease. The Three Divertimenti concluded the afternoon, with a whimsical Waltz lingering in the memory.

In the evening we moved into the Old Royal Naval College Chapel for a concert given by the Arcadia Quartet, who opened with Wolf’s Italian Serenade. The acoustic in the chapel favours the bass registers making the cello and viola parts sing with particular ease. The Wolf has just enough tension to warn us of what is to come without making us uneasy. Janacek’s Second Quartet Intimate Letters brought a richness and intensity throughout, but allowed the playful moments to spin into the air without difficulty. The emotional tension of the Adagio was very well created and the Moderato brought an unexpected sense of hope where many players can only sense despair. The final Allegro returned us to the world of Janacek’s Vixen, and a sense of continuing hope.

The bleak, almost suicidal, loneliness of the opening of Beethoven’s Op131 was painfully impressive. If there was a hint of heroism in its ability to face the awful truth it was deeply hidden. The following Allegro did little to break the spell of the opening and it was not until the unfolding variations of the fourth movement that any sense of peace began to ensue. After this the Presto bounced almost playfully and the following Adagio seemed less desolate that the opening had been. Perhaps there was hope after all? The final movement did not agree. The aggression was there but also a darkness at its heart, failing to throw off the bleakness of the opening which had remained throughout. This was a totally convincing reading of what for me is Beethoven’s finest quartet. BH

The Festival continues on Friday and Saturday. www.trinitylaban.ac.uk

The Dome, Brighton, Sunday 24 March

Barry Wordsworth brought the season to a fitting climax with the largest orchestral force we have seen in the Dome for a very long time. This was needed for an anniversary performance of Stravinsky’s The Rite of Spring.

The first half, however, was somewhat less demanding. Rimsky-Korsakov’s Russian Easter Festival Overture is a rarity and one has to admit, having heard it, it is not difficult to see why. Though it has some fine orchestral colour, the structure is not evident and it appears regularly to peter out, only to start up again. Thankfully it ends with a flourish but that is rather too late to save the day.

With Ravel’s La Valse we are on far safer ground and this was given some splendid textures, from the trembling, hesitant opening to the brashness of the brass and wind at its ecstatic heart. It very much made up for the opening loss of direction.

Gemma Rosefield was the soloist in Saint-Saens’ Cello Concerto, bringing great warmth of tone and lovely moments of stillness. One of glories of this work is the composer’s ability to turn on the sixpence and insist we reflect on what we are hearing, as well as being swept away by the emotional force of the musical line. Gemma Rosefield’s approach was devoid of histrionics or overt emotion, and all the more musically satisfying for that.

The Rite of Spring may have caused a riot a century ago but gathered only a very large and extremely enthusiastic audience on this occasion. Not that the barbarity of the writing is any less evident. The aggressive brass playing and fierce woodwind – particularly the first clarinet – created not only excitement but a dramatic intensity often lost through over-familiarity. As Music Director of the Royal Ballet, this is a score Barry Wordsworth knows well and he brings an intensity to it which reflects that experience. It seemed that the more complex the writing, the more fluid and concentrated the performance became. It was a fitting end to a fine season.

The next season opens with an all Beethoven concert on Sunday 6 October. Be there! BH

www.brightonphil.org.uk

Stephen Osborne was the soloist for Tippett’s Piano Concerto at the Barbican Hall on 22 March. Live performances are even rarer than the symphonies, so it was doubly welcome, given such enthusiastic playing. The work comes just after The Midsummer Marriage and the openign movement inhabits the same world, with warmth and florid lyricism. The large woodwind choruses evoke nature and the spiritual influences the composer finds there. The light, tremulous writing recreates the world of Mark and Jennifer.

It would be easy to relax into this warm bath and simply indulge, but the two following movements take off in a different direction. The molto lento is more complex and estranged with blocks of sound confronting the solo piano, even though the movement has a placid ending. The final vivace brings us some exciting string writing and a dancelike quality that mirrors the Ritual Dances without quoting from them.

Steven Osborne obviously enjoyed the solo part, which, even if over-written in places, has more than enough to engage an enthusiast.

Prior to this we heard John Adams’ The Chairman Dances – an off-shoot of Nixon in China –  and none the less acceptable for that. It has a whimsical feel to is, with some splendidly lush string writing at its heart.

The second half was given over to Shostakovich’s Eighth Symphony, a somewhat strange choice given the geniality of the first half but none the less engaging.

The BBC Symphony Orchestra under Alexander Vedernikov pleased throughout, with the woodwind on this occasion making the most of their chances. BH

Birmingham Symphony Hall, 16 March 2013 CBSO and Chorus, Andris Nelsons

We have had some of the finest Wagner performances I can recall over the last fifteen months up here in Birmingham, and the CBSO Hollander was certainly amongst those. Andris Nelsons drove the performance with a ferocity and bite which made me slightly sad this was not the one act version, such was the intensity of impact.

In the event we had a two act version with a separate overture, together with the Tristan endings. However, the version used is nothing in comparison to the quality of the performance which in this case was inspired on almost all levels. I had thought of James Rutherford as a relatively young singer but in ten years he has moved from a BBC New Generation Artist to singing Hans Sachs at Bayreuth. Sadly we have yet to hear him in major Wagner roles in England and if his compelling reading of the Dutchman is anything to go by, the sooner we book him for major Wagner roles here the better. He not only sings the part with warmth and musicality, but brings an intelligence and sensitivity to it which was entirely in keeping with Andris Nelsons deeply humane reading.

Jennifer Wilson reminded me of the great sopranos of the sixties and seventies – Birgit Nilsson, Astrid Varney – with the power and sweep of the voice, unafraid of the high tessitura and commanding the orchestra. If the ballad in Act Two had been good, the final scene was mesmerising. Alastair Miles was a more homely Daland than is often the case, concerned for his family rather than a grasping capitalist, and here adding another sensitive Wagner character to his increasingly impressive list of parts.

Arnold Bezuyen was remarkable as Erik for the size of his voice which was heroic and lyrical throughout, yet rode the orchestra with ease, even when they were at full force. Nicky Spence was a relaxed and jovial Steersman, a good match for the equally secure Mary of Jane Henschel.

The acoustic seemed to have been adjusted in favour of a more pronounced echo which worked well most of the time, but left the on-stage male chorus sounding a little thin. The amplified ghost chorus made its mark but was confusing when both on and off stage men were provided by the same voices. The women fared rather better and all together they made a strong impact.

Let us hope Andris Nelsons will be encouraged to give us more concert performances of this quality. BH

The Spring Season has been themed this year under the title Free Spirits. That makes some sense in the combination of David Poutney’s productions of Lulu and The Cunning Little Vixen, though slightly less so for Madama Butterfly.

David Poutney provided an impressive introduction in the programme book which now, sensibly, includes all three operas and provides convincing links between them. It also helps the many members of the audience who will see all three to feel some continuity rather than bump from one performance to the next.

Since the release of the third act of Lulu we have come to realise what a masterpiece the work is and how thrilling it can be in performance. David Poutney follows the circus theme closely as the narrative unfolds. Where many productions drop the animals after the introduction, here the masks are maintained and used at key moments. There is constant interplay between the animalistic nature of the humans and the failed civilising and social controls which surround them.

Lulu herself remains an enigma. Marie Arnet has the bite and range for the role but often seems distant from her male admirers. This can work to her advantage, but makes her death less sympathetic than it can be. I did wonder if the production was deliberately taking a Brechtian approach, insisting we distance ourselves from the action, remaining uninvolved even when Berg’s score rises to romantic heights.  

The large cast is drawn from strength with Richard Angas adding unexpected weight to the Animal Tamer (appearing somewhat unexpectedly as Wotan) and a raddled Schigolch. Peter Hoare has the sensitivity as well as the power to make Alwa a fully-rounded character and Paul Carey Jones was impressively at ease – though a late substitute – as Dr Schon. Lothar Koenigs found nuances in the score which constantly delighted as well as maintaining a narrative sweep to drive events towards their fatal conclusions. I had not picked up before the Wagnerian allusions both in the score and text – references to Parsifal and Meistersinger as well as the inference towards The Ring.

The final act was particularly successful in drawing all the earlier elements together. In this Johan Engels design, somewhere between a portable circus and the skeletal frame of a gas-holder, had a stark simplicity which clashed effectively with the over-sophisticated costumes. The only minor problem with this approach was the omission of any sense of social decline in the last act.

I hope we get a chance to see this again as there is a great deal here to both enjoy and consider.

Two days later brought us the revival of The Cunning Little Vixen in a production from 1980 by David Poutney which is as fresh today as it was when it was first staged. The simplicity of the set, with its easy movement between animal and human environments, and the highly effective lighting, gives a near-perfect environment for the subtle inter-play which Janacek creates. The very large cast were as good as one might wish for, with children charming but never cute or mawkish. Sophie Bevan’s Vixen was the best I can recall of the many productions I have seen. Her immediacy and joy in life seemed to make her sudden death all the easier to accept. It was simply a part of the great cycle of life. She lived every moment to the full.

The closer the animals get to humans, the more concerned and joyless they become. The dog is ill-at-ease, the chickens grumble, and the humans moan into their beer. Only the Forester, splendidly sung by Jonathan Summers, comes to accept in the final scene that nature itself can bring him joy, even in the face of death.  

The production involves a number of dancers who are fully integrated into the action, with Naomi Tadevossian a beautiful Spirit of the Vixen. A small point, but both Lulu and Vixen included nudity. In the first case it was uncomfortable (possibly intentionally so), in the second totally apt as a symbol of the Vixen’s freedom and beauty.

Lothar Koenigs brought vitality and shimmering life to the score, with some ravishing solo playing, and waves of sound which surrounded and lifted the action.

It was difficult to believe that the production of Madama Butterfly predated the Vixen by only two years. Dating from 1978 Joachim Herz’ production looks both tired and old-fashioned. It was not helped by some poor lighting and the continuing use of the earlier version of the score which makes Pinkerton even more racist and objectionable than he is in the later version. Gwyn Hughes Jones sings Pinkerton with aplomb but seems to go out of his way to make the character as nasty as possible. Not even Alan Opie’s sensitive Sharpless can ameliorate what is a very uncomfortable situation. Cheryl Baker’s Cio-Cio-San is more than a match for him in terms of her maturing stature as the work progresses, but this is often at odds with the text. Other parts were adequately sung but the production does nothing to lift them above caricature. Maybe it is time to consider a new production. The audience seemed full and obviously happy with the musical side, but they deserve better, given the quality of the other two operas.

The idea of presenting themed seasons will continue next year, which will open in the autumn with The Tudors, but before then we have Lohengrin and Wagner Dream.

Full details from www.wno.org.uk

Brighton Philharmonic Orchestra

Sunday 3 March 2013

At the heart of this concert was a performance of Bach’s Double Violin Concerto by students from the Yehudi Menuhin School. In the event they were siblings, Samuel and Louisa-Rose Staples, respectively 17 and 12 years old. Anybody listening rather than looking would have been hard put to guess the age of the soloists given the professionalism and sensitivity of their playing.

That they have performed the concerto together before was a tribute to their growing professionalism and what impressed was the level of musicianship which went far further than technical competence. While one does not wish to be triumphantly nationalistic it was very evident that their tuition has been far broader than a concentration of technical finess. While both have estimable ability, they already clearly show different temperaments in their approach which allow the music to develop its own individual voice. Samuel seemed to provide a more solid rationalistic line while Louisa-Rose was more supple and at times pliant. This may have more to do with age and temperament than training, but how effective in performance even at this stage. I hope their careers flourish; they certainly deserve to do so.

The afternoon had opened with the ballet music from Mozart’s Idomeneo. For such a popular work, the ballet music is rarely performed, being cut from live performances of the opera and infrequently heard in the concert hall. As such it was all the more welcome.

The second half brought us Mozart’s G minor symphony No40. Here Barry Wordsworth found a fine balance between classical austerity and the urgency of the score to move towards romanticism. I always feel this is the closest Mozart came to Beethoven and the tension buried in the score is only just held in check. If Mozart had lived how might he have developed this approach?

The final concert in the series is on Sunday 24 March with an anniversary performance of Stravinsky’s The Rite of Spring.  BH

Barbican Hall, Friday 1 March 2013

With the anniversaries of Britten, Verdi and Wagner upon us it is a tribute to the BBC that we are getting a chance to evaluate Michael Tippett’s symphonies in the first half of this year. This series of concerts will run until May which will include all of the symphonies and the Piano Concerto. None of these are easy works and the lack of regular public performance means that few of us will have had a chance to get to know them well as live events.

I am old enough to have encountered their original performances but admit I have hardly encountered them since, so it was refreshing to be immersed in the torrent of sound which is the Third Symphony. The opening movement launches itself with astonishing energy, and this is maintained throughout the hour or so of the performance. There are echoes of A Midsummer Marriage in the string writing for the opening movement and the brass fanfares of King Priam are hinted at in the ecstatic brass writing. But it is the blues songs of the final movement which set the work apart. Over the years there have been numerous criticisms of Tippett’s texts but surely these are among his finest and most sensitive. Originally the songs were amplified, and, while that was not true on this occasion, Marie Arnet had the lyrical intensity to carry over the large orchestra even if not all the works were entirely clear. Her passion and beauty of phrase were never in doubt.

David Robertson conducted with deep understanding of the score and its rapid changes of tone and texture.

Tippett  quotes from the Choral Symphony in his own Third and it seemed fitting that the opening part of the concert should have been Beethoven’s Triple Concerto. BBC Young Artists Igor Levit, Alexandra Soumm and Nicolas Altstaedt brought vigour and a subtlety to their playing which was entirely convincing. If the programming looked unbalanced on paper it was anything but in performance. The next concert in the series is again from the Barbican Hall on Friday 22 March when we will hear the Piano Concerto together with Shostakovich’s Eighth Symphony. BH

21-23 February 2013

Any concerns that may have been raised recently about relationships between performers and their audience obviously do not apply to the Bath Bach Fest. This all too brief – I would say intimate – festival should be an example to all of how easily soloists can relate to their audience while maintaining the highest musical standards.

It opened with flair at St Mary’s, Bathwick, where we heard Handel’s Acis and Galatea in the secure hands of Paul McCreesh and the Gabrieli Consort & Players. Nicholas Mulroy was a late substitute for Jeremy Ovenden as Acis, but it was clear from the fun he was having and his ability to sing without the score that he was very familiar with the work. This became even more obvious with Love sounds th’ alarm echoing around the church. Mhairi Lawson was no shrinking violet as Galatea, her warm tone filling the building and bringing a welcome petulance to Hush you pretty warbling choirs where the recorder player was quite obviously not going to give up. Ashley Riches turned Polyphemus into a somewhat more comic character than is possibly in the score, playing off the line to good effect, but singing so convincingly he was easily forgiven.

The performance zipped along at a lightning pace until the death of Acis when comedy gently gave way to pathos and a most moving ending. The five singers took all the chorus parts as well, exposing Handel’s choral writing and showing just how good it is. An enthusiastic reception was well deserved on a very cold night.

The next lunchtime brought harpsichordist Mahan Esfahani to the Guildhall with a programme of French and German baroque works, opening with a very intense Toccata in E minor by Matthias Weckmann. The tension relaxed slightly for eight Pieces de clavecin by Rameau, ranging from the naivety of Les Niais de Sologne to the glorious fantasy rondo of Les Cyclopes.

Before the CPE Bach Mahan spoke to us of his love of the composer and his importance to the history of music in that he was the break-away from the Bach clan. The Wurttemberg Sonata No6 in B Minor is revelatory in its implications, hinting at Beethoven’s invention far more than looking back to the solidity of his father or brothers’ compositions. The opening Moderato is wayward in its approach and its logic is difficult to follow though its emotional narrative is clear. If the Adagio is more conventional there are chordal progressions that hint far into the 19^th century and beyond.

The concert ended with the performers own version of JS Bach’s Chromatic Fantasia and Fugue BWV903. The rendition uses the central chordal sequence as a basis for improvisation which was telling and convincing throughout. A brief encore left us wanting more.

The evening recital in the Assembly Rooms was introduced by Sara Mohr-Pietsch, familiar to most of the audience from Radio3. She was in conversation with Pavlo Beznosiuk, violinist and director of the Academy of Ancient Music, who were to play Bach’s Four Suites BWV 1066-69. Their conversation proved to be enlightening as it did not simply regurgitate the programme notes but introduced each suite and played some musical examples to help us to listen. Not only did this encourage a much closer attention to the works but also a more personal response as we came to know the musicians themselves somewhat better. This was particularly true of the Third Suite with its familiar Air. Before it was played we heard part of it without the top line to enable us to experience the superb harmony which supports it. Consequently, in performance, it was all too clear that this is not a solo violin piece, with additions, but a finely crafted orchestral movement in which all the voices count. The trumpets had joined the ensemble for the opening and closing suites, cutting through admirably, though there had been times earlier when the Assembly Rooms’ acoustic had defeated the strings who lost their edge and clarity. This was particularly unfortunate for Rachel Brown whose flute playing for the Second Suite was sensitive but often lost amid the general melos.

If the first two days had been good the final day brought unexpected delights. Colin Carr’s performance of three of Bach’s Cello Suites was outstanding whichever way you looked at it. He spoke with gentle humour and simplicity before playing, noting that the only reason he was with us in the Guildhall was because he had nothing better to do. The quality of his approach belied this. Only a performer who has Bach at his heart can play with this authority. After giving us the Second, Third and Sixth Suites, he returned for an encore to play the Sarabande from the Fifth Suite. This seemed to tie the whole performance together, for it had been the Sarabandes which seemed to hold the key to his interpretation. In the Second Suite the endless yearning and melancholy of the Sarabande seemed to run into eternity, while the expansive, relaxed hope of that in the Third Suite turned us away from despair. In the Sixth Suite there is an air of resignation, which is not depressive but which lacks the naive joy of the Third. The encore drew all these threads together with its introspection and lightness of touch, which at times drifts into nothingness. It was masterly throughout and we could have gone on listening long into the afternoon.

The Abbey is a large venue by comparison to those we had been in for the earlier performances, but the promise of La Serenissima and Vivaldi was enough to fill it. As in earlier events, this was introduced from the stage, Adrian Chandler being our guide to the evening, as well as playing lead violin and directing the ensemble.

They opened with an anonymous song from Venice c 1730, a gondolier praising the quality of his – boat! Two brisk and cheerful Sinfonia by Albinoni led to a darker and technically stunning performance of Vivaldi’s Concerto in E minor RV278. Anybody doubting Vivaldi’s wide ranging ability only need hear this in comparison to the more familiar Four Seasons to realise the composer’s versatility. Mhairi Lawson returned to sing two arias, the first from L’Olimpiade and the second from Motezuma. Both were written from castrati but one could forgive the imposition of a soprano voice when it is as well focussed as this. Where it had sounded good in St Mary’s it amply filled the spaces of the Abbey. In the Motezuma aria she was joined by trumpeter Simon Munday, who stood alongside her. This seemed somewhat daunting given that, in the opera house, the trumpet would have been far below in the pit, but it did not seem to affect the outcome, which was never really in doubt.

After a brief pause, we came to the Four Seasons. How good to hear them complete and played as well as this, together with the sonnets which Vivaldi wrote to accompany them. They help to make sense of the storms in summer and the pastoral scenes in autumn. On such a very cold February night, Winter was only too appropriate, but the warmth of the performance and the warmth of the reception left all making their way into the freezing night with a glow. Roll on next year! BH