Royal Festival Hall, 2 December 2012

A packed Royal Festival Hall indulged itself in a matinee Merry Widow that more than lived up to expectation. It is surprising, given the continuing popularity of the work, that it is not a basic component of any of our major opera companies.

What made the afternoon slide by so easily was the new narration written and performed by Simon Butteriss. A consummate performer in his own right, his story telling was done in character which provided a bridge between the action and the audience without the constant need to step in and out of character. Added to which it was witty and pointed without being over contemporary in its allusions.

This might have carried the afternoon by itself but the singing was universally high, with Claudia Boyle’s Widow more glamorous than one might hope for, and a voice which found no problems with the often high tessitura. Daniel Prohaska was somewhat too smooth as Danilo and one would not give much hope to their relationship surviving for very long, despite the warmth of the waltzes. Alan Opie was a delight as Count Zeta, allowing things to pass under his nose without letting it upset his enjoyment of life. As the young, would-be, lovers Sarah Tynan and Nicholas Sharratt brought some needed tension to the story and hinted at the relationship which Lehar was to explore in The Land of Smiles.

The Philharmonia Orchestra and Voices under John Wilson were in fine form. How good it is to hear Lehar with a full orchestra and chorus, rather than the more conventional pit bands of the amateur circuit. John Wilson has an increasingly secure reputation for mounting operetta and musicals with quality forces, and in doing so demonstrating the quality of the works which is too easily overlooked. Hopefully there will be more like this. BH

27 – 29 November 2012

Reviving productions can obviously be fruitful for any company but there may be hazards running a season entirely based on them. Katie Mitchell’s highly dramatic and passionate reading of Handel’s Jephtha has made a strong impact since its first showing almost ten years ago and in the hands of revival director Robin Tebbutt still makes an excellent case for staging what is, after all, an oratorio.

The emotional complexity of the work means that our sympathies shift as the story unfolds, but on this occasion it was the arrogance of Jephtha himself, in his refusal to ask for help or clemency on the part of his innocent daughter, which came over most clearly. The anger and understandable lack of forgiveness from Storge at the end was never in doubt as the men return to what they do best, running the world, regardless of the emotional turmoil they have caused around them.

Robert Murray made a reliable if not necessarily likeable hero, his rendition of Waft her angels one of the few moments we felt real sympathy for him. Fflur Wyn’s Iphis has been a key feature of this production and her combination of innocence and nobility, together with a beauty of tone and musical line, carries all before it. On this occasion she was partnered by Robin Blaze as Hamon, suitably gauche at the start but eventually caving in to the driven masculinity around him. Only Diana Montague’s distraut Storge stands out against the demands for Iphis’ sacrifice, but what is one female voice in so masculine a world. This may not have been the way the Georgian audience would have read the work but today it makes its case with authority and bite.

Thomas Blunt, on the one time in this run he was due to conduct the work, made the most of the shallow pit and there was fine continuo work from Mark Packwood on harpsichord and organ. At the end the cast showed their appreciation of Thomas Blunt’s handling of the evening – it is never easy taking over at the end of a run.

I have to admit I did not enjoy Benjamin Davis’ production of Cosi fan tutte when it was new last year and its vulgarity has only been slightly tempered in revival. Quite why anyone should think this an adequate presentation of Mozart’s sensitive masterpiece is beyond me. Allowing central arias to be up-staged by comic business can only be accepted if there is a water-tight dramatic reason for it. Here, time and time again, it seemed to be that the director was afraid of his material and refused to allow it to sing for itself. Thankfully much of the singing was convincing, even with two late changes to the cast. Steven Page made a cynical and aggressive Don Alfonso, in league with a charming Despina from Joanne Boag who learns all too late just how nasty a world she has got herself involved in. She is a fine comic actress, and under other circumstances could have made the part far more impressive. Maire Flavin dropped into Dorabella with flair and a voice which found no difficulty with Mozart’s demands. That she was asked to emote wildly and flamboyantly was not her fault. Elizabeth Watts’ diminutive Fiordiligi was all fire and attack but gave us one of the few reflective moments of the whole evening with a fine Per pieta. Gary Griffiths’ Guilielmo enjoyed himself as an over-the-top Redcoat but Andrew Tortoise’ Ferrando, though accurate, was emotionally flat and uninvolved.

In the pit Mark Wigglesworth took a brisk no-nonsense approach which, under the circumstances, was probably wise. I hope this is the last we see of this staging. WNO and Mozart both deserve better.

The rapid return of Annabel Arden’s production of La boheme was far more welcome. Its simplicity and courage to trust the work itself makes for a convincing evening on every level. Stephen Brimson Lewis’ design work and Sam Hunt’s videos allows the emotional ebb and flow of the work to be supported without being overwhelmed. How good to see act two without feeling the need to round up every extra in Cardiff and throw in animals and brass bands for good measure. For once we were able to concentrate on the protagonists and their rapidly unfolding relationships. After two lengthy evenings prior to this I was struck again by just how short La boheme actually is and how succinctly Puccini moves us on. Casting from strength, the students are physically convincing as well as having the vocal strengths for the part which, if short, is also demanding. Alex Vicens and Giselle Allen were well matched as Rudolfo and Mimi, but I particularly enjoyed the more wayward, and adult, relationship of David Kempster and Kate Valentine as Marcello and Musetta.

Andrew Greenwood cosseted his forces in the pit, allowing it to overflow where necessary but never milking the score for simple sentimentality.

This was a strong way to end the season, and made it easier to overlook the night before. In the Spring we are off to a better start with a new production of Lulu and revivals of a fine Cunning Little Vixen and Madama Butterfly. www.wno.org.uk/

The Dome, 25 November 2012

Howard Shelley was both conductor and soloist for this concert, and an impressive job he made of both roles. He opened with a rarity – Weber’s Jubilee Overture of 1818. It’s slightly pompous opening leads quickly into an energetic theme which one could be forgiven for thinking a pastiche. If this seemed all rather too glib, the inclusion of a windband version of our national anthem at the end made one wonder if it wasn’t all rather too tongue-in-cheek. Splendidly played, with vibrant brass and wind throughout it was a fitting contrast to the rest of the afternoon.

The grand piano, minus its lid, was placed square on to us so that Howard Shelley had his back to us the whole time for Beethoven’s 4^th piano concert. While we may have missed some of his articulation we saw all of his conducting, standing up at the piano when there were extended passages for orchestra and conducting with one hand where the scoring allowed. It was very impressive and the rapport between players and pianist exemplary. The final movement was brisk and bright throughout.

Brahms’ 1^st symphony may be very familiar but the orchestral layout on this occasion gave it an extra bite. The impact of the brass, noted in the Weber, was even stronger for Brahms. The four horns were on a raised platform and sang out over the strings with unexpected clarity. There were passages in which I can’t recall ever being aware of the horns before but here they were and how impressive their lines seemed.

But the brass did not have it all their own way. The solo oboe was fluid and effective in the slow movement and the whole wind section on good form for the third movement. The main theme in the final movement was heralded by exquisite brass fanfares – like the dawn chorus awaiting the sun.

At the end of the performance Howard Shelley not only raised the solo instruments for applause, he raised each section of the strings in turn. I have not seen this before but it was very pleasing – the strings too often get a raw deal when it comes to applause! BH

 2012 marks the 21^st birthday of the Bath Mozartfest which goes from strength to strength. One of the great benefits is of course the city itself. While we were there for the music, we were also able to visit the Thermae for the first time and indulge ourselves in the natural spa waters of the outdoor roof-top pool, even in mid-November, which is at a constant 46°. We were also able to attend mid-week communion in the Abbey on Thursday morning, so all-in-all we did exactly as our Georgian forbears would have done in the 18th century –  a feast of fine food, fine company, and fine entertainment. 

London Winds    Assembly Rooms 13 November

The acoustic in the Assembly Room appears to amplify the sound and bounce it back from the ceiling. For the London Winds this meant that the impact was loud and warm if not always totally transparent. They opened with Mozart’s Serenade in C, a darkly brooding performance with an almost forced formality at times. Only the final variations brought any sense of daylight. By contrast Janacek’s Youth brought a playfulness and innocence which was both a relief and a delight. The single horn call at the start seemed to fill the hall with its brilliance and the Moderato was humane and joyful.

After the interval we heard an arrangement of three movements from Ravel’s Le Tombeau de Couperin, where the melancholic edge was offset by the dance rhythms.

The anonymous arrangement of Beethoven’s Seventh Symphony was the festival rarity and made for a fine conclusion to the evening. The opening movement was hard driven and hard edged in tone, with a fiercely metallic sound from the oboe and an answering stridency from the clarinet. At times it sounded more like Berlioz than Beethoven. The slow movement brought some fine bassoon solo work but the final Allegro con brio seemed unnecessarily rushed. Just because a small ensemble can play faster does not always mean it is a benefit to do so. However, the arrangement brought us a new understanding of Beethoven’s construction and the delicacy of his part writing, so was well worth hearing.

London Haydn Quartet    Guildhall 14 November 

The following lunchtime at the Guildhall brought the London Haydn Quartet in works by Haydn and Dvorak. The Guildhall’s acoustic is far crisper than the Assembly Room and allowed the most delicate of playing to be easily heard. They opened with Haydn’s Op76 No1, with its Schubertian touches and sublime slow movement. Haydn’s leaning towards romanticism here was well developed by the quartet and the Beethovenesque Menuetto and the playfulness of the final movement were very attractive.

Dvorak’s Op51 is clearly a favourite of the quartet, and their delight in playing it was visible throughout. The opening movement allows the melodic lines to grow and develop organically, combining a tight structure with a more relaxed dance motif. The gentle if slightly soporific Romanza proved a little too much for Catherine Manson, the lead violin, as she broke a string – ending the movement re-fingering the work across the remaining three.  While she was restringing, James Boyd was able to talk to us briefly about their use of gut strings. The sound is far better for these works, particularly in the Guildhall’s acoustic, but the risk of breakage is all the higher. Safely restrung, the Finale proved irresistible.

Sitkovetsky Piano Trio    Assembly Rooms 14 November

My concerns about the relative acoustics of the two venues in Bath were born out that evening when we heard the Sitkovetsky Piano Trio in the Assembly Room. There was no doubting the exceptional quality of the playing, particularly in Beethoven’s Archduke Trio, but the quality of sound in the lower registers was noticeable by its lack of impact. Where the cello in the Guildhall was vibrant and firm all the way down, the cello here lacked impact in the lower octaves. Surprisingly the piano seemed to carry better though even that lacked some bass penetration.

All of which was a pity for the young players were in excellent form, opening with Mozart’s K548. Here the Andante cantabile was particularly effective, preparing us for the romantic fury of Brahms’ Op 101. The sudden richness of scoring and intensity of the sound was unexpected and all the more effective. The second movement brought little respite and only the lovely cantabile lines from the pianist in the Andante grazioso eased the mind. The final movement brings more tension though Brahms does allow us a slightly more optimistic conclusion.

By contrast the Archduke Trio was balm to the soul. The nobility and panache of the opening movement swept all before it until the final Allegro brings youth and hope. On the way the Andante cantabile seems so beautiful it is almost wasted on a Trio – if that is not heresy!

Alasdair Beatson    Guildhall 15 November

Pianist Alasdair Beatson is a late romantic at heart as his concert demonstrated in the Guildhall on Thursday lunchtime. Mozart’s Variations on Gluck’s Unser dummer Pobel meint K455 may be somewhat tongue-in-cheek but the grandeur that Alasdair Beatson brings to the work convinces us throughout. His bold and often aggressive playing makes the Steinway work for its money and singing out into the Guildhall across its full range and dynamic.

His approach to Schubert’s Wanderer Fantasy was equally dynamic, with its punchy bass chords and joyful exuberance. That the Adagio seems to prefigure Liszt was all the more obvious in the light of the rest of the programme which was given over to the composer’s arrangements of Schubert and Schumann.

Du bist die Ruh made a gentle contrast with the fire of the Wanderer with its fine phrasing and pace. Gretchen am Spinnrade was romantically forceful and filled out with Lisztian runs and ornamentation. Schumann’s Widmung brought the concert to a warmly, if somewhat sentimental, conclusion, but one that was loved by all.

Alasdair Beatson was so enthusiastically received that an encore was inevitable, and we heard Faure’s Dance Caprise, its lighting shifting moods acting as a soufflé after the Liszt.

English Chamber Orchestra  Assembly Rooms 15 November

The English Chamber Orchestra provided a popular but none the less welcome programme at the Assembly Room that evening, opening with Mendelssohn’s String Symphony No 6. It is difficult to accept that a work of this complexity and style was composed by a twelve year old with no intention of publication, but such are the facts. Not only was the performance highly enjoyable but the precision the orchestra find without a conductor continues to impress.

Two Mozart concerti followed. The orchestra’s leader and director, Stephanie Gonley, gave us a meaty reading of the violin concerto No4, with a series of stylish cadenzas. Richard Watkins was the accomplished soloist in the 4^th Horn Concerto. Again the acoustic was somewhat strange. The sound from the soloist was never in doubt but appeared to be coming from the upper left cornice about ten foot above his head, and divorced from the string sound which was so obviously surrounding him. Given that most modern PA systems go out of their way to ensure that any amplification does not over-ride the apparent source of the sound, it is odd that a natural acoustic does just that!

No such problem with the final work, Dvorak’s Serenade for Strings. This masterpiece seemed the best suited to the Room and we were able to wallow in Dvorak’s intense romanticism. The five movements flowed with a simple inevitability to the point where the return of the opening melody almost demands that we hear the whole work over again. The quality of the ensemble playing was faultless and the balance never in doubt. A wonderful way to end our visit. BH

If you have yet to discover the delights of Bath outside the ‘normal’ season, and at a time of far fewer daily tourists, the next big musical event is the Bath Bachfest which runs from 21-23 February 2013. www.bathbachfest.org.uk

It is not often these days that a production is both modern and highly sensitive to both the music and text of an opera. We have, over recent years, swung wildly between the excessively relevant and the pompously ‘authentic’, with neither feeling satisfactory in the theatre. Maybe it is Yoshi Oida’s ability to work within both traditional Japanese art forms and western music that makes him an ideal interpreter of Vaughan Williams’ rarely performed The Pilgrim’s Progress. The composer himself wanted a production that was spiritually alive and yet not specifically Christian. He would surely have been delighted by what Yoski Oida has created, particularly in the rituals and calm relationships which unfold slowly before us. It might not have the length of Parsifal but there is an intensity about the flow of the music which is far closer to Wagner than the pastoral English scene which the narrative often conjures up.

Tom Schenk sets the story within a prison where the warders and prisoners could be somewhere in Eastern Europe or Asia but the drabness of clothing and harshness of the prison doors and bars is a constant reminder of the reality of this dream. Bunyan is in prison throughout, and even if he reaches the Celestial City we are all well aware that this is not an escape so much as a vision of the spiritual life in the midst of an oppressive and often violent world. The sections of the set move with ease to create different environments and heights, allowing for smooth transitions and easy access for chorus and soloists. The introduction of the electric chair during the Vanity Fair scene is startling and effective, particularly when it becomes the focus of the final scene. That the text is frequently at odds with the visual image works extremely well. This is no updated juxtaposition, where Siegfried carries a sawn-off shotgun, but a world where the Pilgrim has a spiritual life which allows him to see through the immediate to the eternal. There is a fine moment when the three shepherds of the delectable mountain appear as priest, judge and doctor come to escort Pilgrim to his execution. What we see is banal and prosaic, but what Pilgrim is hearing is uplifting and profound. It is a wonderful concept and beautifully created.

The very large cast are fully committed to the work in a way which conveys no sense of cynicism or world-weariness. At its heart is Roland Wood as Pilgrim, looking like a worker who has managed to upset his boss rather than Everyman, but this is apt both to the work and this production. Timothy Robinson and Benedict Nelson make an individual impact, but there are no obvious weak links. Smaller parts flow in and out of the chorus, who are used as much as witnesses to Pilgrim as to commentators on the action.  Martyn Brabbins allows the score to unfold with great delicacy and has a particularly good ear for detail. It would be good to think the performance might be recorded both on CD and DVD. It deserves to be remembered. BH

Until Nov 28. Tickets: 020 7845 9300

Bridgewater Hall, Manchester, 2 November 2012

Those of us who arrived early got two concerts for the price of one. As a substantial part of the introduction to the concert, Harry Christophers and Eamonn Dougan conducted Genesis Sixteen – the youth choir, auditioned annually and trained throughout the year – in works by Britten, Melgas, Part and Vaughan Williams. These young singers are chosen for the quality and individuality of their voices as well as their more obvious ability to blend as a choral group. As a result, the sound is strikingly original as well as technically accomplished. The four works given enabled the choir to demonstrate not only their technical finesse but the range of music they can turn their skills to. These young singers obviously have a secure future wherever they eventually sing.

The main concert focussed on works by Schumann and Brahms, a move away from the more familiar baroque repertoire of The Sixteen, but one that held no problems for them. Moreover, the works were to be heard with piano accompaniment only.

Brahms’ vocal quartets are among his least familiar output, but there is nothing small scale about them. The delicious warmth of An die Heimat, the jollity of Fragen were very effective. Spatherbst brings autumn mists but does not quite catch the melancholy of the text, but the set ended with the uplift of Warum.

After the interval we heard Ein Deutsches Requiem in the four-hand version which the composer himself arranged. There are many benefits to hearing the work in this more intimate version not least the clarity of musical lines both in the choir and the piano accompaniment. The opening Selig sind set a tone of stillness which returned regularly throughout the performance, none more so than in Wie lieblich sind deine Wohnungen, where the piano seemed even more apt than a full orchestra might have done.

Harry Christophers’ handling of the score maintained Brahms’ tempi and there was no sense of unnecessary haste or lightness just because there was no orchestra. Denn wir haben hie brought real power and nobility and the work concluded with a deeply-felt Selig sind die Toten.

In the first half John Reid had played three extracts from Schumann’s Waldszenen, the last of which was poignant and romantic without ever becoming sentimental.

Surprisingly, this was my first visit to the Bridgewater Hall. The acoustic seemed rather hard-edged, though this might be the result of a very low attendance. I doubt if the hall was half full. Given the quality of the performance and the reputation of the performers this was somewhat strange. BH

Royal Festival Hall, 31 October 2012

Osmo Vanska is one our finest conductors of Scandinavian music and his wealth of experience was brought into play in this somewhat unbalanced concert. It opened with a delicate and light reading of Sibelius’ Third Symphony. No Nordic depression here, just a series of beautifully crafted images. Osmo Vanska shaped, cajoled and smiled the music into life. The gentle warmth of the Andantino was like a slow circle dance at sunset. If the final movement seemed almost over-playful at first, the strong cello line brought things together and ended the performance with real joy.

What are we to make of Carl Nielsen’s Sixth Symphony? He may have called it simple yet it is anything but. However, the music is totally accessible even when confusing. The Humoreske  may sound like a group of music students messing about but the rapid shifts of mood and texture are uncomfortably close to atonalism and even modernism. In the final movement we could be at a Hoffnung Music Festival. And yet there seems to be something far more profound here. It seems as if Nielsen is forcing us to face the reality of our emotional reactions to music. He lures us into a romantic string section only to drop it, almost like Charles Ives, and force us to accept we are being manipulated. Are we so weak-willed that we give in to any emotion thrown at us by a composer? It makes for an exhilarating and challenging half-hour, and one we should investigate more often.

Between these two fine works we heard Mozart’s Violin Concerto No 3 in G major. I feel like asking – why? It was out of step with the rest of the programme and seemed uncomfortably light weight. Maybe part of the problem was the soloist, Christian Tetzlaff. Technically accomplished, his platform demeanour is distracting with its swooping movements and bodily contortions. Luckily I had somebody tall sitting in front of me and I was able to block him out visually for most of the time. The Adagio was the better section and this brought something closer to equanimity, though the dancing returned in the finale. BH

“Nosferatu” (1922) with live improvised organ accompaniment  by Otto Kraemer; Methodist Central Hall, Westminster.

This special event was a part of the series of Monday Gala Organ Concerts with visiting organists performing on the Hall’s recently restored and reconstructed Hill /Harrison organ. Otto Kraemer, guest tutor on the London organ improvisation course, breathed life and emotion into the film through his wonderful interpretation. The sheer scale of the organ was demonstrated to remarkable effect – at times through well-chosen solo stops and combinations across the whole pitch range. At other times there were spine-tingling sequences with full-bodied chorus work. We also heard Tremulants and celestes as well as imaginative use of mutations. The versatility of this truly orchestral organ was shown to the full.

Otto Kraemer showed himself to be a master of improvisation. Sometimes the music was to the fore, at other times in the background, but always enhancing and enlivening the action on the screen. There were clever quotations from popular music – Rod Stewart’s Sailing, Sur le pont d’Avignon and even The Magnificent Seven! Each was expertly and seamlessly woven into the soundtrack. As the film ended the organ built to a thrilling climax to what had been an immensely enjoyable evening. What a pity that there were only about 30 of us in the audience – in a hall advertised as seating up to 2160.  SP

Trafalgar Day and what a glorious start to the new season. Worries about cost seem to have been tossed aside to make a real impact from the word go. The Brighton Festival Chorus and a full range of international soloists joined the orchestra under Barry Wordsworth for Haydn’s Nelson Mass. The unusual conception of the work, scored without woodwind but with a strongly written organ part and full brass, makes for a very lively impact. The weight of choral singing is matched by the intensity of the orchestra which at times seems closer to late Beethoven that early Mozart.

Soprano Elizabeth Donovan impressed with a lyric but forceful coloratura but did not overshadow her fellow soloists. Alistair Young spun a fine organ line without over-egging the texture, given the potential of the Dome’s organ. Barry Wordsworth was clearly enjoying himself and it showed in the liveliness of the tempi and the sense of fire throughout.

After the interval we were in a different sound world altogether with Elgar’s Sea Pictures. Where the Haydn had been extrovert and thrilling, the Elgar was as intimate and heart-catching, even in what can be more extrovert moments. Barry Wordsworth and soloist Elizabeth Sikora understand the delicate balance within these songs and the need to cherish the music as it opens to us. Her wide vocal range was ideal but she never allowed the voice to push itself too far. There were times when it almost disappeared, like the waves themselves, only to resurface even stronger a second later. The naiveté of In Haven and Where Corals Lie were beautifully captured and the rapture of Oh brave white horses was thrilling.

Maybe we earned a moment of relaxation at the end. Certainly Barry Wordsworth thought so as he gave us a rollicking rendition of Henry Wood’s Fantasia on British Sea Songs. These are so familiar from the Proms that it seems strange that they are actually very short in performance. All the more reason to let us sing Rule Britannia twice! Roll on the rest of the season which continues with Mozart Piano Concerto No 23 and Sibelius Symphony No 5 on 11 November. www.brightonphil.org.uk  BH

This was the first of an extended series of concerts by the BBC Symphony Orchestra at the Barbican Hall to revisit major works by Michael Tippett. The composer, as often happens, has experienced a decline in performances since his death over a decade ago and it is certainly time to reconsider his output. The Brighton Festival made a start earlier this year with a concert performance of King Priam but there is a good case to be made for at least a series of concert performances of all the operas, not least Midsummer Marriage, which should surely be in the regular repertoire of one of our major companies.

The Triple Concert may seem a strange place to start. Written to a commission in 1979, it is an enjoyable piece but hardly amongst the best of his output. The solo parts are well written, and Lawrence Power’s opening viola solos was immensely satisfying. The work lurches from a delicate intimacy to familiar, if extravagant, brass fanfares. Percussion is featured throughout, though there is no over-use simply for effect. The central nocturne is the most pleasing part of the composition, its heady almost sweet-scented tactility giving a languid sense of ennui to the whole.

For those of us who, for whatever reason, were unable to attend the recent Royal Opera revival of The Ring, the second half of the concert under Mark Wigglesworth gave us a lightning tour. If Henk de Vlieger’s orchestral adventure leaves one slightly breathless it is hardly the fault of the composer. De Vlieger brings together many of the purely orchestral sections, sequeing smoothly in most cases from one to the other. One good example was the way he takes the sword motif at the end of Rheingold and moves, via the end of Act Two of Walkure straight into the prelude to Act Three. Similarly there is a pleasing transition from the Waldweben through the fire music to a serene awakening of Brunnhilde. The final sections seemed more familiar and were played with a speed and dynamic that is not always apparent in the opera house. I can’t say I would like to live with this arrangement on a regular basis, but it did make me realise what I had missed by not being at the Royal Opera House!  BH