In concert – Elizabeth Llewellyn, CBSO Youth Chorus & Orchestra / Jérémie Rhorer: Debussy, Ravel & Stravinsky

Elizabeth Llewellyn (soprano, below), CBSO Youth Chorus (chorus-master, Julian Wilkins), City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra / Jérémie Rhorer

Debussy Nocturnes L98 (1899)
Ravel Shéhêrazade M41 (1903)
Debussy Prélude à l’après-midi d’un faune L86 (1894)
Stravinsky Symphony in Three Movements (1945)

Symphony Hall, Birmingham
Thursday 9 May 2024

Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse Picture of Jérémie Rhorer (c) Caroline Doutre, Elizabeth Llewellyn (c) Frances Marshall

Programmes featuring no Austro-German content are rarer than might be thought these days, so making this evening’s concert from the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra with the highly regarded conductor Jérémie Rhorer not only more unexpected but also more welcome.

There could be few more understated openings to such a programme than the Nocturnes that Debussy completed near the start of the 20th century, when the ‘impressionist’ tag randomly applied to his music was at its most relevant. Without denying its essentially rarified quality, Rhorer brought out the ominous undercurrents in Nuages, its emotional eddying abetted by Rachel Pankhurst’s soulful cor anglais while duly complemented by those fervid imaginings of Fêtes, where the central processional felt tangible in its implacability. Nor was there any undue reticence in Sirènes, the CBSO Youth Chorus here repeating its contribution from a couple of seasons ago with a response whose androgynous sound-world did not preclude an expressive poise coming to the fore through the remote ecstasy of this piece’s closing pages.

Among the most potent expressions from its composer’s early maturity, Ravel’s Shéhêrazade made for a natural follow-on. Less a cycle than a sequence of songs, it tends to be dominated by its initial Asie, which made Elizabeth Llewellyn’s performance the more admirable. Not that she ever under-characterized the images of wonder and terror such as pervade the poem’s ‘‘outdated language and cultural depictions’’ (to quote the rider in tonight’s programme), but these were harnessed to a cumulative build-up of intensity that held good over the capricious elegance of La Flûte enchantée, as enhanced by the artful finesse of flautist Marie-Christine Zupancic, then on to the sensuous ambiguity of L’Indifférent with its predictably equivocal close. Rhorer secured playing of subtlety and refinement throughout this memorable reading.

A suitably enervated if never flaccid account of Debussy’s Prélude à l’après-midi d’un faune launched the second half. Distinguished once more by Zupancic’s playing as well as an airily euphonious response by CBSO woodwind, Rhorer teased out the purpose behind any inertia.

Although it could not have made other than a jarring impression in this context, Stravinsky’s Symphony in Three Movements provided an instructive contrast (Roussel’s Third Symphony would have been more apposite – maybe another time?) in its presaging of rhythmic tensility over harmonic langour. Rhorer had the measure of the opening’s movement’s animation, for the most part simmering rather than overt (and some not quite spot-on entries a reminder that this music remains a stern test of technical accuracy), but the highlight was a central Andante whose alternating between the whimsical and beatific confirmed the film-world’s loss as the concert-hall’s gain. The transition into the finale saw a frisson of expectancy, duly confirmed by its remorseless progress toward what is the most visceral outcome in latter-day Stravinsky.

A fine showing, then, from the CBSO and a notable appearance by Rhorer who will hopefully return soon. Next week sees a welcome reappearance by Joshua Weilerstein, major works by Bernstein and Dvořák being set in relief with shorter pieces by Pavel Haas and Caroline Shaw.

Click on the link to read more on the current CBSO concert season, and on the names for more on soprano Elizabeth Llewellyn, conductor Jérémie Rhorer and the CBSO Youth Chorus

Published post no.2,177 – Monday 13 May 2024

In concert – Jeremy Denk, CBSO / Kazuki Yamada: Gershwin, Clyne, Ravel & Mussorgsky / Wood

Jeremy Denk (piano, above), City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra / Kazuki Yamada

Gershwin An American in Paris (1928)
Clyne ATLAS (2023) [CBSO Co-Commission: UK Premiere]
Ravel Pavane pour une infante défunte (1899, orch. 1910)
Mussorgsky orch. Wood Pictures at an Exhibition (1874, orch. 1915)

Symphony Hall, Birmingham
Wednesday 1 May 2024

Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse

This evening’s concert by the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra may have taken its overall title from the final work, but ‘pictures’ were everywhere in evidence and not merely those ‘at an exhibition’ – not least with Kazuki Yamada as enthusiastic as ever at the helm.

While it loses out to his Rhapsody in Blue in the popularity stakes, Gershwin’s An American in Paris is surely the most successful of his orchestral pieces for matching its immediacy of imagery to a resourceful structure. Encouraging the CBSO to a bracing response in the outer sections, and with Jason Lewis’s nostalgic trumpet initiating that pathos-laden central phase, Yamada secured a response whose full-on expression was offset by too sectional an approach – the music proceeding in a stop-start fashion rather than unfolding organically as it should.

Over recent years, the New York-based Anna Clyne has emerged among the leading British composers of her generation, with this first UK hearing for her piano concerto ATLAS keenly anticipated. Inspired by the eponymous and epic collection of the artist Gerhard Richter, this likewise falls into four ‘volumes’ rather than movements, which also underlines their relative formal freedom. Certainly, the ingenious interplay between soloist and orchestra is a tough challenge which Jeremy Denk met head-on – whether in the coursing energy then yielding eloquence of the opening Fierce, alluring textural overlaps of Freely, intimate, the lilting nonchalance of Driving or cumulative activity of the final Transparent with its surge to an emphatic close that (as with this work overall) was capricious and allusive in equal measure.

Doubtless motivated by Denk’s coruscating virtuosity, the CBSO gave its collective all in a work which (rightly) appealed to those present – the pianist responding with his deft take on the Heliotrope Rag co-written by Scott Joplin and the tragically short-lived Louis Chauvin.

After the interval, a rare moment of calm – Ravel’s Pavane for a Dead Princess given with a studied if never stolid grace, Elspeth Dutch’s horn and Katherine Thomas’ harp enhancing its appeal. As with Fauré’s Pavane, this is ideal music for opening the second half of a concert.

And so, to Mussorgsky’s Pictures at an Exhibition – heard here in the orchestration by Henry Wood which preceded and was duly superseded by Ravel’s. Wood is more interventionist, not least by reducing the recurrent ‘Promenade’ to a stealthy introduction, but not necessarily less faithful to the piano work’s spirit – hence the scabrous immediacy of Gnomus, sombre aura of The Old Castle (Andrew McDade’s tuba balefully intoning on high above stage-right), or fatalistic tread of Bydlo with its evocative percussion. Respighi was probably taken by this glowering depiction of Catacombs with a ghostly recollection of the promenade hardly less effective, and if Baba Yaga gets summarily curtailed here, the crescendo of bells launching The Great Gate[s] of Kiev set the tone for a treatment whose opulence borders on overkill.

Not that this inhibited the CBSO from projecting Wood’s organ-clad texture to the maximum, to the enthusiasm of an audience that erupted in the lingering resonances at its close. Quite a way to end an impressive performance, and a memorable concert, on a day that saw Yamada become this orchestra’s Music Director and the CBSO launch ‘A Season of Joy’ for 2024/25.

Click on the link to read more on the current CBSO concert season, and also to read about the recently announced 2024/25 programme. Click on the names for more on pianist Jeremy Denk, conductor Kazuki Yamada, and composer Anna Clyne

Published post no.2,168 – Saturday 4 May 2024

In concert – Quatuor Danel: Shostakovich & Weinberg #4 @ Wigmore Hall

Quatuor Danel [Marc Danel & Gilles Millet (violins), Vlad Bogdanas (viola), Yovan Markovitch (cello)]

Weinberg String Quartet no.5 in B flat major Op.27 (1945)
Shostakovich String Quartet no.6 in G major Op.101 (1956)
Weinberg String Quartet no.6 in E minor Op.35 (1946)

Wigmore Hall, London
Monday 29 April 2024

by Richard Whitehouse Photo (c) Marco Borggreve

Quatuor Danel’s ongoing cycle devoted to the string quartets of Shostakovich and Weinberg reached its fourth instalment this evening with a programme in which two of the latter’s most characteristic such pieces framed what is among the most ambivalent of the former’s works.

Composed in the aftermath of the Second World War, Weinberg’s Fifth Quartet emerges as a divertimento in concept but hardly in substance. The opening Melodia underlines this with its brooding theme on violin that intensifies expressively as the movement expands texturally, while the ensuing Humoreska has a dance-like insouciance that takes on ominous overtones as it unfolds. This accrued tension bursts forth in the central Scherzo with its violent motivic and gestural exchanges between the players, then the Improvisation revisits earlier material from an inevitably more troubled perspective. It only remains for the final Serenata to bring closure via its familiar gambit of summing-up the whole from a likely emotional remove, only to take on greater immediacy on the way to a musing close: something ideally conveyed here.

The mid-1950s was a difficult time for Shostakovich, recently widowed and unsure as to his future direction. Dedicated to his second wife, the Sixth Quartet can seem as tentative as this marriage proved short-lived – the genial quality of the opening Allegretto’s themes assuming much more combative guise as the movement evolves, with the Moderato that follows poised uncertainly between scherzo and intermezzo but without committing either way. The second of its composer’s passacaglias in a quartet context, the Lento unfolds as a processional both fatalistic and doubtful before heading into a final Allegretto whose inherent nostalgia exudes a sepia-tinted regret at its core. As previously, the Danel was mindful to vary the expressive intent of that recurrent closing cadence – one whose finality is ultimately borne of resignation.

The last work proved to be a culmination in all senses. Over six decades might have elapsed between its composition and its premiere (by this ensemble), but Weinberg’s Sixth Quartet is one of his finest and a highpoint of quartet-writing in the twentieth century. Although it runs to six movements, there is never risk of diffusiveness or loss of focus – witness the deceptive equability of its initial Allegro, such equivocation decisively countered by the violent Presto whose unbridled energy has barely been dispelled across the brief and recitative-like Allegro.

Despite its fugal mobility, the ensuing Adagio emerges as a slow movement frozen in intent – something the Danel brought out as acutely as it did that bittersweet anxiety of the Moderato which follows. More than in any of Weinberg’s earlier quartets, the final Andante maestoso is a fitting destination – its almost monumental power fashioning elements previously heard into a cumulative structure whose outcome is one of desperation mingled with defiance. Not hard to fathom why the Soviet authorities should have prohibited even a private performance.

Whether or not it has become a ‘signature work’ for the Danel, the sheer emotional input of this reading assuredly took no hostages. Shostakovich’s 1931 arrangement of Katerina’s aria from the third scene of his opera Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk duly made for an eloquent envoi.

You can hear the music from the concert below, in recordings made by Quatuor Danel:

For more information on the next concert in the series, visit the Wigmore Hall website. You can click on the names for more on composer Mieczysław Weinberg and Quatuor Danel themselves.

Published post no.2,167 – Friday 3 May 2024

In concert – James Ehnes, CBSO / Markus Stenz: Schumann Violin Concerto & Bruckner Symphony no.7

James Ehnes (violin, above), City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra / Markus Stenz (below)

Schumann Violin Concerto in D minor WoO23 (1853)
Bruckner Symphony no.7 in E major WAB107 (1881-83, ed. Nowak)

Symphony Hall, Birmingham
Thursday 25 April 2024

Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse Picture of James Ehnes (c) Benjamin Ealovega, Markus Stenz (c) Kaupo Kikkas

His appearance here for performances of Mahler’s Second Symphony two years ago had made one hope that Markus Stenz might soon be invited back to the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra – such being so tonight for this outstanding programme of Schumann and Bruckner.

Although it now enjoys frequent hearing, Schumann’s Violin Concerto yet remains under the shadow of its eight-decade limbo after the composer’s mental breakdown then decision by its intended soloist Joseph Joachim to withhold performance. Only in 1937 was it given in public, since when it has gradually come to be regarded (as Yehudi Menuhin believed it would be) as the missing link between Beethoven and Brahms. Certainly, there was nothing tentative about James Ehnes’ advocacy, which proved as interpretively acute as it was technically immaculate.

Pacing the initial movement so that its earnest character never becomes unduly sombre is not easy, but Ehnes ensured its halting progress never felt effortful and Stenz drew textures of no mean luminosity from these modest forces. The slow movement seemed more eloquent for its listless pathos, with its terse transition into the finale astutely judged. Its underlying polonaise rhythm deftly inflected, this rather gauche rondo yielded an easy-going momentum in the call and response between soloist and orchestra, through to a conclusion both genial and resolute.

A memorable performance which reinforced Ehnes as among the most consistent (as well as undemonstrative) of present-day virtuosi – something that was no less evident in his account of the Third Sonata (‘Ballade’) by Eugène Ysaÿe which here made for a scintillating encore.

The UK has seen little of Stenz since his tenure with the London Sinfonietta during the mid-1990s, a pity given he has few peers among conductors of his generation in terms of Austro-German repertoire. Such was borne out by Bruckner’s Seventh Symphony – Classical in its lucidity of motion, Romantic in its frequently impulsive emotion. Not least an initial Allegro moderato that elided between its contrasting themes with unforced rightness, the abruptness of certain tempo changes (accentuated by his rare recourse these days to the Nowak edition) channelled into a coda of surging sublimity. Even finer was the Adagio for the inevitability with which this drew respectively elegiac and lyrical themes into a sustained traversal, via an exultant peroration (cymbal and triangle duly outdone by timpani), to a nobly resigned close.

The latter two movements can easily seem anti-climactic, but there was nothing understated about the Scherzo as Stenz heard this – the impetus and acerbity of its outer sections finding accord with a trio whose lilting poise was delectably pointed. As for the Finale, most succinct of Bruckner’s maturity, Stenz emphasized its expressive contrast between themes through his choice of tempi – while managing to mould these into a convincing unity before heading into a coda which revisits that of the first movement with blazing affirmation in the here and now.

The performance would not have made the impact it did without the CBSO playing at or near its best throughout – such Bruckner interpretation having few, if any, equals when it comes to live music-making. One can only hope conductor and orchestra will work together again soon.

Click on the link to read more on the current CBSO concert season, and on the names for more on violinist James Ehnes and conductor Markus Stenz

Published post no.2,161 – Saturday 26 April 2024

In concert – Binker Golding @ Ronnie Scott’s

Binker Golding (tenor saxophone), Philip Achille (harmonica), Artie Zaitz (guitar), Sarah Tandy (piano), Dan Casimir (double bass), Jamie Murray (drums)

Ronnie Scott’s, London, 19 April 2024

by John Earls. Photo credits (c) John Earls

The last time I saw Binker Golding at Ronnie Scott’s (June 2021) he and his quintet were performing new material in advance of what was to become the wonderful (and superbly titled) album Dream Like a Dogwood Wild Boy, a collection of tunes traversing across jazz, Americana, country and blues.

Last Friday’s (second house) concert at Ronnie Scott’s was also a showcase for new material, albeit interspersed with a couple of numbers from Dogwood. The new material, played here by a superb sextet, develops the trajectory of Dogwood in innovative and pleasing ways.

Not least is the addition of harmonica player Philip Achille who I’ve previously described as someone “taking his instrument to places you didn’t know it could go”. He did it again here throughout the evening including opening the set with soft, inquisitive and inviting tones. I don’t know if Achille features on the new album (he doesn’t play on Dogwood) but I sincerely hope so.

Of the line-up performing tonight, Sarah Tandy (piano and organ) and recent Arts Foundation Futures Award winner Daniel Casimir (double bass) did play on Dogwood. Artie Zaitz (guitar) and Jamie Murray (drums) completed the sextet. All were excellent, Tandy combining her lyrical piano playing with the organ (sometimes at the same time), Casimir solid and expressive on bass, Zaitz giving an effective guitar edge and Murray particularly impressive with his delicate stick and finger taps (although he can thump too). The Dogwood tracks played were a smoky Love Me Like a Woman and an absolutely captivating version of My Two Dads which saw Golding and Achille engage in a touching call and response of the opening refrain, featuring stunning solos from Casimir, Golding and Tandy. 

The new material is a promising progression and evolution of Golding’s outstanding composing, playing and bandleading qualities. Great tunes with moments of grace and beauty, the last number of the set being a case in point. You don’t always have to finish with an up-tempo banger. Tune titles included I Know I Can Change (whose origin comes from a misconstrued lyric) and Where the Heart Meets the Sky (which might also end up being the title of the new album).

Vocalist Maxine Scott joined Golding (playing piano) and Achille (harmonica) to sing Bob Dylan’s I Shall Be Released for an encore, but it was the sextet’s performance and the prospect of the forthcoming album that truly captured the night.

John Earls is Director of Research at Unite the Union and tweets / updates his ‘X’ content at @john_earls

Published post no.2,155 – Sunday 21 April 2024