BBC Symphony Orchestra, Barbican Hall, 17 May 2013

This proved to be an exciting evening, opening with a new commission by Jonathan Lloyd. new balls for wind ensemble is in many ways a companion piece to old racket for strings which was premiered last month. Distinctly tongue in cheek for much of the time – there is a false ending forcing us to applaud while the work actually continues – it opens soulfully and often seems disjointed, with phrases dying out or being drowned out by other instruments. At one point the solo flautist stands for what one expects to be a highlighted solo line, only to be overtaken to the point where he is inaudible. However the work eventually builds to a strong climax and we know we have reached the end.

Stephen Hough was the soloist in Brahms’ second piano concerto, in a bright extrovert reading. James Gaffigan had conducted Brahms’ Fourth Symphony in Brighton the previous Tuesday and brought the same level of immediacy and authority to this performance. The second movement was fast, almost furious at times, even in the more reflective string melody. The cello phrasing in the third movement was superb and the final movement brought sprightly, snappy rhythms from all involved. Throughout, Stephen Hough had found a joyous enthusiasm combined with lyrical finesse.

Tippett’s first symphony proved to be equally enthusiastic, the density of the writing pre-echoing A Midsummer Marriage (which I am glad to note will be performed at the Proms this summer). If he had abandoned an earlier symphony as being too Sibelian there was no doubting that this was pure Tippett, particularly the writing for strings in the opening movement, and the wind ensembles. Low strings in unison open the second movement creating an uneasy tension which is taken up by flute choirs and muted trumpets. After moments of introspection and doubt the movement suddenly flowers before dying away.

There are overtones of the Ritual Dances in the sparky Presto which exults it its lyricism before the overt enthusiasm of the final Allegro moderato with its elusive ending. The symphony is such a fine piece without the potential difficulties of the later symphonies; it is a surprise it is not heard more often. BH

Lufthansa Festival of Baroque Music 2013

The Lufthansa Festival has made regular visits to Westminster Abbey over the years and the event has become a highlight of the week. A packed Abbey had gathered to hear works by Purcell, himself once organist of this very building.

With the Abbey Choir at the heart of the event it was natural to open with My beloved spake using soloists drawn from the choir itself. The setting suited both the occasion and the balance of voices, floating Purcell’s relaxed harmonies into the gently echoing spaces of the abbey’s vaulted roof.

The choir sang with precision and a sound range of dynamics throughout, ending the Ode for the Birthday of Queen Mary of 1691 with considerable enthusiasm.

Iestyn Davies was a late replacement but very warmly welcome given the demand he is in these days. He opened the Ode, following the trumpet led symphony, and set a high standard from the start in terms of impact. As the work progressed it became clear that all the soloists were equally gifted, with admirable input from Benjamin Bevan – himself another late replacement – Mary Bevan and Charles Daniels.

The arrangement of the soloists on the platform was rather disconcerting. They were seated in the side aisles and frequently had to move behind the choir to the other side before they came on to sing.

After a brief interval we heard Hail, bright Cecilia! the ode for St Cecilia’s day, 1692. Charles Daniels lyrical tones excelled in ‘Tis Nature’s Voice and Mary Bevan ‘s brief Thou tun’st this world was equally appealing.

The surprise was the apparent mismatch between the text and the orchestra. The singers spend the whole of the second part of the ode extolling the virtues of the organ, in particular its range, power and authority. Purcell was organist in the Abbey, and while the current instrument is obviously of a far more recent date, the composer would surely have expected a far large sound than the rather feeble chamber organ which was used? There seems to be no compromise today between using a robust sound, which is close to that which Purcell would have known, and the softer tones of a chamber organ which are fine in context, of which this was not one.

James O’Donnell conducted throughout with deftness and tact, if erring on the side of caution rather than excitement.BH

The Dome, Brighton, 14 May 2013

Some concerts which look pleasantly conventional on paper can prove to be unexpectedly exciting in delivery. Such was the BBC Symphony Orchestra concert under James Gaffigan in a programme of Mendelssohn and Brahms, where the only unusual item appeared to be Hartmann’s Symphony No2.

Hartmann managed to survive in Germany during the war and promoted new music in the country up until his death in 1963. Although trained by Anton Webern his music is entirely his own, drawing together strands as disparate as the atonal school and late romantics. The Second Symphony was eventually completed in 1946. Although titled Adagio, that hardly does justice to the range of moods and dynamics of the single movement structure.  The work opens in great tension before a solo for baritone saxophone cuts through with hints of The Rite of Spring. Though there are many hints of Strauss and Mahler, it is Stravinsky that the work constantly returns to in its undercurrent of tension and danger. At its climax it releases a ferocity at breakneck speed which mounts towards its denouement.

After such excitement the other works could have seemed rather bland; it was  anything but. James Gaffigan takes a lean and athletic approach to Mendelssohn’s violin concerto and Veronika Eberle has the technical finesse and passion to meet it. Her bright tone and powerful playing were coupled with moments of sudden introspection in the opening movement. The Andante was taken at a dancing 6/8 rather than the more conventional relaxed 3/4, and led to a flirtatious finale, where the beauty of the cello line almost stole the show. The enthusiastic reception was very well deserved.

Brahms’ Fourth Symphony may have felt more relaxed than the Mendelssohn but was as strongly structured, with hints of nobility and heroism in the opening movement. The precise, almost clipped, phrasing of the Andante moderato seemed to hint at Elgar in its warmth, and there was a brash enthusiasm in the Allegro giocoso. The final movement brought finely textured contrasts, with a limpid brass chorale before the fire of the final moments.

A splendid evening, worthy of any festival. BH

London Coliseum, 11 May 2013

Where many directors have taken an expressionistic or even caricatured approach to Wozzeck, Carrie Cracknell creates a naturalistic narrative, driven by the horrors of warfare and the emotional damage which war does to society. Tom Scutt’s set is made up of claustrophobic rooms, tightly set on top of each other, with no sense of daylight or a world outside. Within this environment individuals seem uncomfortably real. Tom Randle’s Captain and James Morris’ Doctor, both finely sung, seem at ease within the seedy bars and illegal dealings which surround them, their quiet viciousness at one with the omnipresence of death. It is death which is the idée fixe of this production; military coffins are brought in and misused as much as venerated. Soldiers respond to the dullness of routine and boredom, with drink and drugs. It is all too plausible and becomes increasingly shocking for that very reason.

Within this environment Leigh Melrose’s Wozzeck tries to make sense of the world but we are forced to witness his emotional melt-down. It would be easy to justify this in terms of post traumatic stress, but that is not necessary in a world which does not care about the individual. Wozzeck cannot cope with the pressures he is under and eventually cracks. Leigh Melrose’s performance is a masterpiece of nuance, as we follow the gradual disintegration of a man who obviously has fine qualities but has no chance to make them work for him. Sara Jakubiak’s Marie is strongly sung and characterised, her relationship with Wozzeck always on a knife edge, with the day-to-day realities of making ends meet leading to a succession of affairs. Her growing involvement with Bryan Register’s bombastic Drum-Major is led as much by her own desires as it is by the need for money. It is unclear in this production if the child, a boy not quite in his teens, is actually Wozzeck’s own, given that they have only been together nine years.

Other solo parts are drawn from strength and the chorus are clearly individualised. The children, ghostly figures for much of the evening, are all too recognisably normal in the final scene, whose casual violence is all the more horrific.

Throughout the evening, the orchestra had been far more than an accompaniment to the action. Edward Gardner finds subtleties, in particular late romanticisms, in the score which I have never heard before. The climax at Wozzeck’s death is shattering and over-powering. The orchestra have been on splendid form all season, but have rarely been as good as this.

Berg’s masterpieces are all too rare in our opera houses, given their importance to the development of the genre in the twentieth century, so it has been a delight to welcome this new production alongside WNOs’ Lulu. BH

More performances until 25 May. www.eno.org