An all-Schubert recital is an unusual treat and Paul Lewis is, of course, an outstanding pianist who interprets the material with unshowy sensitivity.

We’ll never know why Schubert (as he did the famous symphony) left his D840 sonata apparently unfinished in 1825. Lewis opened the concert by playing the first movement of Relique with gentle gravitas, especially in the octave passages. Then he brought enough careful insouciance to the andante to ensure that we enjoyed the themed melody in all its forms and variations.

The familiar first movement of D664 is often played on its own but Lewis made it sound fresh before moving without a break into the lilting andante. Then I admired the expressive left hand work under the semi-quavers in the concluding allegro.

After the interval came the substantial four movement D845. There was attractive fluidity in the opening movement which marries two quite disparate themes: one a plaintive melody and the other a military march. And I loved the way Lewis delivered the drama at the end. Then it was into C major for an attractive take on the andante which certainly walked at a steady 4mph rather than the 2mph trudge it could so easily become. Lewis, moreover, scrupulously does all five variations with so much attention to detail that the individual mood of each is very clear. The scherzo was measured and elegant rather than rushed and Lewis made the finale sound as effortless as it is busy.

Some would argue that a full size concert grand with the lid fully open is inappropriate for music of the 1820s. But I reckon that, had Schubert, had the chance to hear his music played on an instrument of this quality he’d have applauded as enthusiastically as the audience did at this enjoyable concert.

Susan Elkin

Vocalise Rachmaninov
2nd Piano Concerto Rachmaninov Soloist: Christopher Weston
Symphony No 9 Dvorak
‘From the New World’

In one respect, Dvorak and Rachmaninov benefitted from the American Dream – they both made far more money in the States than they would ever have done at home. Yet both were ambivalent about the experience – after settling in the US, Rachmaninov produced no major works other than the Paganini variations, earned his living as a virtuoso performer and spent much of his time with fellow exiles, while Dvorak’s New World Symphony is partly about yearning for his homeland.

To celebrate the 150th anniversary of Rachmaninov’s birth, it was great to hear such spirited, accomplished and sensitive performances of two of his most well-known works which demonstrate why he is perhaps the last of the romantic ‘greats’. In the Vocalise, the upper strings produced a tone which was both sweet and remarkably strong in sustaining the melancholic melody, with exquisite tuning and just the right level of vibrato. Andrew Lowen achieved real variety in the string ensemble with subtle gradations in tone and a texture which never became dull or too thick, while there was gentle, sympathetic support from the woodwind and horns.

Christopher Weston responded superbly to the technical demands of the concerto. There was dramatic power to the chordal passages, an exciting, jagged energy to more rhythmic sections while the almost impossibly difficult runs, trills and arpeggios were handled with consummate ease and clarity – there was no danger of the handful of wrong notes which can mar some performances. He produced beautifully expressive, sustained playing in the lyrical sections of the first movement, without any hint of romantic self-indulgence, while in the second he evoked a sublimely simple calmness with an almost Mozartian precision which only enhanced the emotional appeal. In the third movement, real pianistic delicacy contrasted with power and technical prowess to wonderful effect and the impressive short cadenza-like section showed off his skills to the full. What a fine young pianist he is! The relationship between soloist and orchestra was expertly handled, with a rich string tone (especially from the violas), and some beautiful playing from the woodwind, either as soloists or as an ensemble. There was crisp rhythmic definition, with dramatic changes of tempo, and the piano and orchestra worked as one, the soloist’s part often emerging from orchestral tuttis. The brass playing was tightly executed, particularly in some thrilling chordal sequences, and while the balance between soloist and orchestra was generally good, I felt that the piano was occasionally slightly overwhelmed. This however is a minor criticism of a controlled performance by fine musicians, in which soloist and orchestra each respected each other’s role: how good it is to hear a soloist working with rather than against an orchestra!

The skills of both orchestra and conductor were demonstrated to the full in the symphony which makes tremendous demands of all sections. Strings and woodwind produced a wonderful dark sonority at the start, and Andrew Lowen’s clear conducting, undertaken with an obviously ebullient pleasure, ensured effective changes of tempo and tonal colour. Rhythmic energy balanced lyrical playing, especially from the strings, and the full orchestral sections were just thrilling. The cor anglais solo in the second movement was hauntingly beautiful, played with great breath control and supported by subtle string playing, contrasting with some precise, spikey woodwind passages. The third movement had great life and energy, though occasionally the rhythm and tuning were slightly ragged. As in other movements, there was some impressive flute, oboe and clarinet playing. The varied orchestral colour of the final movement showed how well disciplined this orchestra is, with all sections listening to and balancing each other – the great crescendos and climaxes were genuinely moving.

It was delightful to see the concert-hall nearly full for this impressive concert. To perform such well-known works involves a risk in enhancing the expectations of an audience, but players, soloist and conductor proved themselves worthy of the challenge. For me, this was a memorable evening of dramatic and hugely enjoyable music-making by top-quality musicians.

Jonathan Watts

People often tell me, enviously, that I have a lovely job. It’s true. I do. And rarely have I been so aware of that than when I arrived at Wigmore Hall for a whole evening of Handel, focusing on his time in Rome in the first decade of the eighteenth century

Moreover this was the first time I’ve seen the Dunedin Consort live. Their original instruments and way of working are fascinating. Everyone who can is standing to play (so not, the keyboard player, cellists and theorbo player, obviously). Violins are played without chin or shoulder rests. There are no metal adjusters on tail pieces either so there’s a great deal of careful retuning between works. The gut strings sound mellow but vibrant. Players use very little vibrato and not much position shifting – presumably because, in the early eighteenth century, Handel was writing for shorter necked instruments. All string players are using Baroque bows – stockier and tighter than modern ones and typically held a few inches higher up the stick than usual.

Matthew Truscott – standing in to cover an illness – is a dynamic leader, using his whole body to keep the consort together with much eye contact and many smiles. He also gave us some virtuosic solo work, calmly blended into the ensemble, and proved himself an entertaining and informative speaker when he addressed the audience in the second half. Also in the second half Alison McGillivray switched from cello to viola da gamba – bowing underhand so that it the faster passages she looked as if she was stirring a pudding but the sound was pretty riveting.

The real high spot of the evening, however, was soprano Nardus Williams. After the overture and two other short orchestral items from Admeto she sang Ero e Leandro. Simply dressed in plain red silk, she has a way with impassive passion and intensely understated anguish as her Ero loses her lover. There was some immaculately sensitive duetting with Truscott, McGillvray and Rafael Arjona Ruz on theorbo. Williams found exactly the right resonance for the warm acoustic of Wigmore Hall in both this and in Tu del ciel ministro eletto from Il trionfo del Tempo Disinganno which followed it in a different mood.

After the interval we got the Concerto Grosso in C minor Op 6, No 6. The largo was suitably broad and the a tempo guisto second movement stressed all the colour implied by the word “chromatic”. Truscott was clearly having fun with it. The musette was played with elegant prettiness and there were lots of triumphantly virtuosic moments in both the allegro movements.

Then Nardus Williams returned for two final works: Tra le fiamme and Per me gia di morire from La Resurrezione, now finding more animated drama mostly in the lower part of her register in the former. And goodness me the bell like sound of that wooden oboe (Frances Norbury) playing descending scales with Truscott and McGillvray and then with Williams, as Mary Magdalene, will stay with me for a long time.

As if that weren’t enough – rapturous applause – there was then an encore. A short cantata from Aminta dating from the same period. It lilts along in 6|8 as the singer heads towards the sea and certainly sent me away with a happy spring in my step.

Susan Elkin