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