Wigmore Mondays: Anne Queffélec plays Bach & Handel

Anne Queffélec (piano)

J.S. Bach arr. Busoni Chorale Prelude ‘Nun komm der Heiden Heiland,’ BWV659 (1740, transcribed 1907-9)
Marcello arr. J.S. Bach Adagio from Oboe Concerto in D minor (pub. 1717, arr. 1713-14)
Handel arr Kempff Minuet in G minor and Chaconne in G major, HWV435 (1720 & 1733, arr. 1954)
Scarlatti Sonata in B minor, Kk27 (1739)
J.S. Bach Partita No.2 in C minor, BWV826 (1727)

Wigmore Hall, London; Monday 16 October 2017

Written by Ben Hogwood

As with last week’s Lise de la Salle recital at the Wigmore Hall, Anne Queffélec follows a loose theme of composers interpreting the work of others. Ferruccio Busoni was a master arranger of older composers, often enriching their music with a few parts of his own that would be in keeping with the style of both the original and the new, ‘Romantic’ period. Bach often arranged the music of others and this poignant example from a Marcello Oboe Concerto is followed by pianist Wilhelm Kempff, updating Handel for performance on a modern 20th century piano. Scarlatti’s Sonata is a thinly disguised Bach tribute, while Bach himself then builds a substantial Partita no.2 drawing on the French style – that is, using sharply detached rhythms in some of the movements.

Follow the music

The broadcast can be heard on the BBC iPlayer by clicking here

J.S. Bach arr. Busoni Chorale Prelude ‘Nun komm der Heiden Heiland,’ BWV659 (5 minutes, beginning at 4:10 on the broadcast)

A sublime arrangement when played with care, as it is here, allowing the longer melodies to unfold with the minimum of fuss. Bach still manages to achieve interplay between the parts but this is a much slower piece, and there is a great depth of feeling in its inevitable progression. Busoni’s arrangement is largely faithful, though he does allow the bass line to acquire a double part on several occasions, broadening the overall sound.

Marcello arr. J.S. Bach Adagio from Oboe Concerto in D minor (5 minutes, from 9:38)

Queffélec leads straight into the Marcello without a break, which makes sense as its D minor key and the G major of the Bach are closely linked. This is a sublime and almost timeless piece of music, the background chords gently pulsing on the left hand as the right hand expresses itself. Gradually the music grows in intensity, before subsiding again.

Handel arr Kempff Minuet in G minor and Chaconne in G major, HWV435 (17 minutes, from 14:30)

The Minuet is slow – especially for a dance – and restrained, given an intensely intimate air through the arrangement and the choice of tempo in this performance. It leads into the Chaconne (19:07) where a bold and bright statement of the chosen chord sequence, with associated trills, is followed by no fewer than 25 variations on the set sequence. Around the 23:00 this features some dazzling runs on the right hand, and again at 27:40 – though in between Queffélec channels Handel’s innermost thoughts. At 29:08 we get another statement of the full bodied sequence first heard at the beginning.

Scarlatti Sonata in B minor, Kk27 (1739) (4 minutes, from 32:30)

One of Scarlatti’s 550-or-so Sonatas for solo piano! These pieces are all around five minutes long and usually given in two halves, but other than that are remarkably free in form. This particular example is a free flowing stream of notes that could easily be inspired by Bach.

J.S. Bach Partita No.2 in C minor, BWV826 (1727) (21 minutes, from 36:50)

This Bach work is a collection of connected movements, starting with a relatively stern Sinfonia, setting the scene (from 36:50). Then the dance sequences start, beginning with an Allemande, a slower and thoughtful dance from 41:55. The Courante gets under way at 46:40, a swaying dance, and is followed by a slow and graceful Sarabande (48:55). 53:10 sees the perky Rondeaux begin, Queffélec enjoying the distinctive melody and the flowing counterpoint that follows. Bach is especially clever in this movement by taking his main theme and moving it around the beat. The Rondeaux moves straight into the Capriccio (54:33), which initially sounds rather serious but then takes flight, the two hands literally chasing each other around the keyboard.

Thoughts on the concert

A wholly captivating recital by a pianist with a refreshing lack of mannerisms or frills. Anne Queffélec brought timeless qualities to the music of Bach, Marcello and Handel, making each performance feel like a direct communication to a single member of the audience.

During the Handel Minuet especially I felt myself subconsciously leaning forward, so persuasive and intimate was the account, with incredibly soft timbres and sensitive use of the pedal. Here Queffélec was moving dangerously slowly, as she also did in the Marcello ‘Adagio’ and the Bach chorale prelude, but there was never a feeling of these interpretations becoming contrived, more a sense that the pianist had reached a different spiritual and emotional plain.

Further listening and reading

Anne Queffélec has recorded some wonderful albums, one of which – a Scarlatti collection – was reviewed on Arcana back in 2014. You can hear it on Spotify below:

Back in 2009 she released a Chopin album – which is particularly relevant as she chose an encore for this concert of the Fantaisie-Impromptu, heavily influenced by Bach and Scarlatti. You can hear the album below:

Benjamin Baker, Salomon Orchestra / Holly Mathieson – Berg: Violin Concerto & Schmidt: Symphony no.4

Benjamin Baker (violin), Salomon Orchestra / Holly Mathieson

St John’s, Smith Square, London; Monday 16 October 2017

Richard Strauss, arr. Rodziński Der Rosenkavalier – Suite (1945)

Berg Violin Concerto (1935)

Schmidt Symphony No. 4 in C (1933)

Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse

Never an ensemble to shirk a challenge, the Salomon Orchestra’s current season continued tonight with what, aesthetically, was an almost perfectly balanced programme – and whose second half brought a timely revival (in the UK) of the Fourth Symphony by Franz Schmidt.

With its catalyst in the tragically unexpected death of his daughter, this work was consciously intended as an ‘in memoriam’ and this is reflected in a formal design as fuses the customary four movements into an unbroken continuity; expressively also in that salient themes return almost as memories being recollected. From which perspective this performance succeeded admirably – Holly Mathieson having the measure of an overall design as though akin to the ‘journey of a life’, whose ending is tangibly (thereby inevitably) anticipated in its beginning.

The exposition’s themes – the first as introspective as the second, with its Magyar overtones, surges forth – were judiciously contrasted, and if the development was a little too rhetorical, it evinced the right cumulative intensity leading into an Adagio whose anguished climax was set into relief by the inward eloquence on either side. A touch stolid rhythmically, the scherzo did not lack impetus as it headed – lemming-like – over its cliff of disaster; in the aftermath of which the reprise gradually re-established momentum as the work came resignedly full-circle.

Its unity within diversity aside, the Fourth Symphony is a stern test of orchestral skill such as the Salomon met head on. The strings evinced the burnished warmth necessary for this music, and while woodwind intonation was on occasion wanting, it did not undermine an orchestral texture through which brass emerged with the appropriate impact. The solo contributions were well taken, not least from trumpeter John Hackett and cellist Kate Valdar, and Mathieson can take considerable credit for her advocacy of a piece whose repertoire status is still not secure.

Photo credit: Kaupo Kikkas

Before the interval, Berg’s Violin Concerto had provided the ideal complement. Similarly inspired by the premature death of a woman (in this instance the teenage Manon Gropius), it also focusses on that continuum between life and death, as well as the transfiguration which may result. Here again the four movements, divided into two parts, can be difficult to make cohesive and though Benjamin Baker (above) was not lacking consistency, his rather unvaried tone leading to an expressive uniformity as made this, ultimately, an interpretation in the making.

Mathieson, though, was attentive and always responsive in support. Beforehand, she presided over an enjoyable account of a suite arranged towards the end of the Second World War from Der Rosenkavalier. Probably undertaken by the conductor Artur Rodziński, it takes in several of the highlights from Richard Strauss’s sprawling comedy – rather as does Robert Russell Bennett’s ‘symphonic picture’ derived from Gershwin’s Porgy and Bess, which likewise has the result of reducing the larger work to a succession of glib purple-patches devoid of any real context.

Rendered with aplomb, it was surely possible, even so, to find a more fitting concert-opener – Zemlinsky’s Sinfonietta would have been ideal temporally and conceptually. That aside, this evening was a fine demonstration from the Salomon and auspicious occasion for Mathieson.

For more concert information from the Salomon Orchestra, head to their website

Franz Welser-Möst‘s pioneering recording of Schmidt’s Symphony no.4, with the London Philharmonic Orchestra, can be heard on Spotify below:

Jennifer Pike and friends – Polish Music Day @ Wigmore Hall

Jennifer Pike (violin), Guy Johnston (cello), Tom Poster (piano)

Wigmore Hall London; Saturday 14 October 2017

Szymanowska Polonaise in F minor / Nocturne in B flat (both c1825)

Knapík Partita (1980)

Górecki Pozegnaie (2009)

Chopin Piano Trio in G minor, Op. 8 (1829)

Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse

This evening’s concert formed the final instalment of an all-day event – as curated by Jennifer Pike (above) – that surveyed Polish chamber music from the Renaissance to the present, so enabling a much wider out-look on this (not least in the UK) little explored area than is usually the case.

Even so, not many such programmes can have opened with pieces by Maria Szymanowski (née Wołowska), whose death in 1831 at only 42 robbed the musical world of an evidently fine pianist and, as evinced by the elegant Polonaise and wistful Nocturne that were played with real poise and feeling by Tom Poster (below), an able composer and the plausible link between Hummel or Field and Chopin, who was surely familiar with her output. No great rediscovery, maybe, but a welcome opportunity to open-out the context of this period within Polish music.

The major discovery came with Partita by Eugeniusz Knapík. Now in his mid-60s, he seems to be among the younger members of a generation as moved away from post-war modernism towards a more traditional, though by no means reactionary discourse. Lasting for almost 30 minutes, this work unfolds from its imposing ‘Entrée’ – far more substantial and emotionally varied than its title might suggest – via a lyrical ‘Air’ in which the influence of Messiaen (this composer’s one-time teacher) was unmistakable; thence on to a central ‘Mouvement’ whose capricious interplay of violin and piano brought with it the most inventive music of the whole work, before a brief while forceful ‘Récitatif’ (mainly for violin) segued into a second though appreciably more sombre ‘Air’ which saw this piece through to a conclusion of tenuous calm.

An uneven though arresting work, then, which Pike gave with unstinting commitment, ably accompanied (an understatement in this instance) by Poster. Hopefully more of his Knapík’s will be heard in due course (his 1971 Violin Sonata just might be a worthwhile place to start).

After the interval, music by Mikołaj Górecki – his brief though undeniably affecting Farewell is not so far removed from some of the later pieces by his father Henryk; albeit with a degree of emotional detachment in keeping with one to has pursued a distinctively classicist idiom.

The main programme concluded with Chopin’s Piano Trio – not a work that tends to receive overmuch praise, but which proved highly enjoyable when rendered with the insight afforded here. A performance such as made light of the awkward tonal follow-through in the opening Allegro, then found due vivacity in the scherzo with its appealingly lilting trio. The Adagio had pathos without undue sentiment, while the finale made much of its folk-inflected themes and underlying krakowiak rhythm as it headed through to a decisive if peremptory close. All three players, not least Guy Johnston (above), made much of their sometimes restricted though never limited roles; suggesting the mature Chopin (his valedictory Cello Sonata uppermost in mind) likely had a masterpiece to contribute to this medium had it not been for his untimely death.

As an encore, Pike introduced a touching piece by Michał Kleofas Ogiński (1765-18330 – his polonaise for piano Farewell to my Homeland (1794) heard in an idiomatic arrangement for piano trio by her father, rounding-off this enjoyable and enlightening evening in fine style.

Photo credits: Jennifer Pike (Eric Richmond); Tom Poster (Toby Poster)

For more concert information on the Wigmore Hall head to their website

Wigmore Mondays: Lise de la Salle plays Bach, Liszt & Brahms

Lise de la Salle (piano) photo (c) Nicolas Brodard

J.S. Bach Italian Concerto in F major BWV 971 (1735)

Liszt Fantasie and Fugue on the Name B-A-C-H S529 (1855)

Brahms Variations and Fugue on a Theme by Handel, Op.24 (1861)

Wigmore Hall, London; Monday 9 October 2017

Written by Ben Hogwood

A nicely planned hour’s recital from Lise de la Salle, focussing on the collision between two different historical periods in music.

The so-called ‘Romantic’ composers rediscovered the music of Bach half way through the nineteenth century, and this led to a series of important performances and rearrangements of the composer’s music. Liszt paid his own characteristically larger than live homage in a fantasy based on the notes of the composer’s name (B-A-C-H translating in German as Bb – A – C – B natural, or H). Brahms, while not directly referencing Bach, built a hugely impressive seam of variations and a fugue on a theme from one of Handel’s Harpsichord Suites. Lise began her recital with Bach’s own act of homage, though this was a concerto for piano only written in the style of his Italian contemporaries.

Follow the music

The broadcast can be heard on the BBC iPlayer by clicking here

Bach Italian Concerto (12 minutes, beginning at 1:39 on the broadcast)

Listen out for the lively first movement, marked ‘Allegro’ (from 1:39), then an intensely lyrical slow movement marked ‘Andante’, written in the style of an aria (5:12). Then the last movement brings a lively conclusion to the piece, packed as it is with a stream of melodic content (10:56)

Liszt Fantasie and Fugue on the Name B-A-C-H (13 minutes, from 14:45)

Liszt’s gestures are typically bold at the start, where the B-A-C-H theme is stated boldly – but then because of the chromatic nature of the theme the music becomes very mysterious around five minutes in (20:00 or so). Then, from 21:30, we get ‘high voltage’ Liszt in the form of some tempestuous piano writing, where de la Salle responds to the challenge very impressively. Then, from 25:09, we get a big piece of chorale (hymn like) writing, before the theme is stated again and a thoroughly convincing ending ensues.

Brahms Variations and Fugue on a Theme by Handel, Op.24 (27 minutes, from 28:50)

In a prolific burst, Brahms wrote no fewer than 25 variations on Handel’s theme. The theme itself is played in the original form, and then the variations begin at 30:02. Brahms achieves a staggering variety of moods, speeds and phrases, moving away from Handel’s outline to explore new tonalities and rhythms. For a notable contrast listen out to the light footed, graceful Variation 3 (31:43) and the following Variation 4 (32:24), a strident march. On more than one occasion Brahms moves to the relatively downbeat minor key, dramatically so in Variation 13 (40:20) – which he follows with the capricious Variation 14 (41:54). The variations are noticeably more playful at this point in the work, but once again Brahms’ serious side exerts itself as we lead towards the fugue. This begins at 51:22, Brahms stating the melody and then bringing in each part with incredible precision, each strand fusing seamlessly.

Thoughts on the concert

This was a fascinating combination of pieces, played with technical brilliance by de la Salle – though her projection was at times on the loud side, meaning that the Bach especially felt as though it was played in capital letters – and the last movement felt rushed.

The Liszt was impressive and big boned, while the Brahms – though perhaps not getting the full contrast of moods – was beautifully and affectionately worked. The staccato eighth variation was especially impressive in its clarity, as was the quickfire fourteenth, though when the Fugue appeared it was initially difficult to grab the rhythm. That said, an impressive reading from a pianist growing in stature.

Further listening and reading

If you like the idea of Romantic composers taking their lead from the Baroque, then I think you’ll like this album from Murray Perahia. It brings together the ultimate Bach revival composer – Mendelssohn – with arrangements of Bach by Busoni.

You can catch up with Lise de la Salle at her website

Meanwhile her Liszt album from 2011 is available on Spotify below:

On record: Steve Elcock: Orchestral Music, Volume One (Toccata)

Elcock Symphony no.3 Op. 16 (2005-10); Choses renversées par le temps ou la destruction op.20 (2013); Festive Overture op.7 (1997)

Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra / Paul Mann

Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse

Summary

The first release devoted to Steve Elcock, whose distinctive and uncompromising music went unheralded until four years ago when Toccata Classics supremo Martin Anderson took up the cause which resulted in the recording of the works featured here in Liverpool earlier this year.

What’s the music like?

Born in Chesterfield in 1957 and residing in central France for over three decades, Elcock has amassed a select catalogue (currently running to op.26) with five symphonies at its core. The present disc is dominated by his Third Symphony, composed over five years and cast in three movements whose relative contrasts become subsumed into the powerfully cumulative whole.

The opening Allegro veers between dynamism and stasis as to override thematic distinctions in its underlying sonata-form, heading to a tensile yet unresolved ending. Elements of parody are accentuated in the ensuing ‘Ostinato’, whose middle section emphasizes a coarse melody which points up the lunging and often violent activity around it. Its climax spills over into a final ‘Passacaglia’ as long as its predecessors combined, while given focus by its methodical alternation between loud and quiet expression, along with a steady sarabande rhythm which underpins the ultimately tragic tone. The winding down to an ominous, trill-suffused centre then intensified surge towards a tragic outcome is duly capped by the stark closing cadence.

A notable achievement, but scarcely less impressive is Choses renversées par le temps ou la destruction (Things knocked down by time or destruction). This symphonic triptych moves from the tense expectancy of ‘broken columns’ with its dismantling of the 14th Prelude from Book Two of Bach’s ‘48’ (played on harpsichord by Richard Casey), through the amorphous textures then eventual eruption of ‘mills of god’, to the all-round confrontation of ‘last man standing’ whose unfolding as a slow rondo effects the blackly humorous waltz near its close.

By contrast, the Festive Overture is in the lineage of pieces by such as Walton and Arnold, though Elcock draws comparably on Shostakovich’s eponymous piece and Elliott Carter’s Holiday Overture for its lively interplay of blithe melody and ingenious counterpoint.

Does it all work?

Yes, notwithstanding a passing tendency to over-score and the occasional pre-emptive climax. Elcock’s music has energy and momentum, but also eloquence and resourcefulness, as amply holds the attention. Mention is made of the ‘Nordic-British’ symphonic tradition, though that of European modernism is frequently detectable with the imaginative handling of orchestral texture and a rhetoric leavened with irony. For someone largely self-taught in composition, moreover, Elcock’s sense of control over form and expression is rarely less than impressive.

Is it recommended?

Indeed, not least when the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra sounds so committed to the cause under the guidance of Paul Mann. The latter contributes an informative overview of these pieces, complemented by the composer’s autobiographical outline. Further instalments are planned, rightly so, but it would be a pleasure to hear these works – the Third Symphony in particular – in live performance; affording this music the tangibility it amply warrants.

To listen to clips from this release and for further information visit the Toccata Classics website, while for more on Steve Elcock you can visit the composer’s website