Category Archives: Choral

Arcana at the Proms – Prom 23: Benjamin Grosvenor, Rodolfus Choir, London Philharmonic Chorus & Orchestra / Edward Gardner – Busoni & Rachmaninoff

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Rachmaninoff Symphonic Dances Op.45 (1940)
Busoni Piano Concerto in C major Op. XXXIX (1902-4)

Benjamin Grosvenor (piano), The Rodolfus Choir (men’s voices), London Philharmonic Choir (men’s voices), London Philharmonic Orchestra / Edward Gardner

Royal Albert Hall, London
Monday 5 August 2024

reviewed by Richard Whitehouse Photos (c) Andy Paradise

This centenary of Busoni’s death has not thus far seen a great deal of activity in the UK, so it was gratifying to find the Proms scheduling his most (in)famous work – the Piano Concerto tonight receiving its second performance at these concerts, 36 years to the day after its previous outing.

Back then, the first half featured Beethoven’s Fourth Symphony and a more apposite coupling than Rachmaninoff’s Symphonic Dances. Now firmly ensconced in the orchestral repertoire, it remains a stern test the London Philharmonic Orchestra did not quite meet on this occasion – despite such felicities as Martin Robertson’s eloquent alto sax in the first movement and Edward Gardner’s conjuring of a tangible malevolence in its successor. Impulsive but erratic in its outer sections, the finale’s evocative central span had a superficial quality typical of this performance overall.

This was not the case in the Busoni. Benjamin Grosvenor (above) might not the first name who comes to mind for this concerto but, having already given performances in Reykjavik and Berlin, he was audibly attuned to an idiom not as elusive as often supposed in its canny amalgam of the Germanic and Italianate, while his playing was fully equal to its technical demands. That he is not a pianist looking to confront the orchestra head on ensured a more than usually close-knit coordination with players and conductor, which was almost always to the benefit of this piece.

Not least in Prologo e Introito, its orchestral introduction enticingly shaded by Gardner with Grosvenor integrating his unequivocal entry into what are essentially variations on the theme at the outset. Few pianists have weighted Busoni’s complex chords or his intricate harmonies with such translucency, not least the end of this movement where piano and orchestra melded to spellbinding effect. Straight into Pezzo giocoso, its capricious outer sections framing one of stealthy ambivalence as perceptively rendered as was that spectral angularity near its close.

Grosvenor managed the rare trick of making Pezzo serioso simultaneously cumulative and cohesive. He duly channelled the slow-burning momentum of its introduction into the rolled chords of its barcarolle-like first part – Gardner sustaining impetus across its successor to an imperious climax, during which the soloist never risked being obliterated. The lead-in to its third part had a poise equal to that at the end, where subtle rhythmic contrasts between piano and timpani against undulating strings had an enfolding calm to diffuse any lingering tension.

A general pause for retuning, then All’italiana burst forth – the underlying tarantella rhythm a springboard for its motley succession of vernacular elements initially humorous and latterly uproarious, held in check by the scintillating give-and-take of soloist and orchestra. Grosvenor almost topped these shenanigans with his electrifying cadenza – after which, Gardner prepared admirably for Cantico in which male voices (above) hymned Allah’s praises with mounting fervour; Grosvenor a largely passive observer until he belatedly returned for the headlong signing-off.

Quite a performance, then, that will hopefully be released commercially. Did Busoni offer an encore at that Berlin premiere? It could not have been more suitable than J.S. Bach’s Prelude in E minor BWV855, transposed and arranged by Alexander Siloti – three minutes of balm bringing us gently down to earth.

For more on this year’s festival, visit the BBC Proms website – and to read more on the artists involved, click on the names: Benjamin Grosvenor, Edward Gardner, The Rodolfus Choir, London Philharmonic Choir and the London Philharmonic Orchestra

Published post no.2,264 – Thursday 5 August 2024

Arcana at the Proms – Prom 23: Thoughts on Busoni’s Piano Concerto

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Benjamin Grosvenor (piano), The Rodolfus Choir, London Philharmonic Choir, London Philharmonic Orchestra / Edward Gardner

Royal Albert Hall, London
Monday 5 August 2024

by Ben Hogwood Photo (c) Andy Paradise

A full review of Prom 23 will follow from Richard Whitehouse, but I wanted to register some thoughts on my first live encounter with one of the most extraordinary piano concertos you could ever hope to hear.

In the last few months pianist Benjamin Grosvenor has taken Ferruccio Busoni’s Piano Concerto on something of a concert tour, and has written of his love and admiration for the piece in a Guardian article, which proves a helpful guide for anyone not fully attuned to the piece.

The centenary of Busoni’s death falls this year, hence the first appearance of this piece at the Proms in 36 years, since a memorable occasion when Peter Donohoe squared up to the solo part in the company of the BBC Symphony Orchestra and Mark Elder. Oh, and the BBC Singers – for this work, unbelievably, has a male chorus in the finale, singing “Lift up your hearts to the Power Eternal”, a hymn to Allah from Adam Oehlenschläger’s Aladdin. Busoni’s quote in the score at this point is that “The Pillars of Rock begin to make soft and gentle music.”

Yet even before we got to that fifth movement the extraordinary power and individuality of Busoni’s music was shining through. The London Philharmonic Orchestra under Edward Gardner had a big part to play here, setting the scene in the Prologo e introito as though we were standing in a cathedral, awestruck at the architecture but still taking in a new sight with each about turn.

Grosvenor’s interpretation of his part was balletic, and the music really danced – swooping down from the heights or bubbling up from the depths, the pianist finding remarkable clarity in even the most complex passagework. Busoni, a formidable concert pianist himself, really tests his soloist, but retains a well-judged balance between piano and orchestra. Grosvenor and Gardner somehow found this equilibrium in the notoriously tricky acoustics of the Royal Albert Hall, where from the arena you could hear the clear communication of Busoni’s ideas. The orchestra were superb here – percussion ideally balanced, strings and wind interacting with the piano cleanly and the brass sensitively placing their chorale interventions. The clarinet and viola solos in the second movement had all the room they needed, while the orchestral colour that appears so unexpectedly and vividly in this work was richly shaded.

And what of the piece itself? In many ways it was like listening to a progressive rock album from the 1970s, which in itself is extraordinary when you think the Piano Concerto was completed in 1904. The sheer scope of Busoni’s imagination knew no bounds, then – taking on board more obvious influences from Bach, Beethoven, Chopin and Liszt, while using harmonic techniques to remind us that we were now in the age of Sibelius, Elgar and even Schoenberg.

The fourth movement was perhaps the most remarkable in this performance. With the gargantuan third completed, a kind of meditation in four parts, Busoni summons even greater invention for a Tarantella of remarkable energy, the solo part whirling round in a circle and brilliantly played here by Grosvenor. Just as it seemed all possibilities had been exhausted, the appearance of the male chorus was a masterstroke, their sonorous tones floating above much of the audience in the Royal Albert Hall. They leant a whole new dimension to the work, meaning that even those who might have been struggling 55 minutes into a piece found the new impetus and energy in Busoni’s exultation.

If you have not yet encountered this extraordinary piece I encourage you to without delay – but don’t stop there, for Busoni’s solo piano output, while very different, has many riches to impart in a fraction of the time. First, though, you have to try the Piano Concerto. It will knock your socks off!

You can listen to this concert on BBC Sounds – with the Busoni Piano Concerto beginning at 1:03:55. For more on this year’s festival, visit the BBC Proms website

Published post no.2,263 – Wednesday 7 August 2024

Arcana at the Proms – Prom 19: Jess Dandy, Senja Rummukainen, BBC SO & Sakari Oramo – Holst ‘Cloud Messenger’, Harvey & Elgar

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Harvey Tranquil Abiding (1998) [Proms Premiere]
Elgar Cello Concerto in E minor, Op. 85 (1918-19)
Holst The Cloud Messenger, H111 (1909-10, rev. 1912) [Proms Premiere]

Jess Dandy (contralto), Senja Rummukainen (cello), BBC Symphony Chorus, BBC Symphony Orchestra / Sakari Oramo

Royal Albert Hall, London
Saturday 3 August 2024

reviewed by Richard Whitehouse Photos (c) Chris Christoudoulou

Now approaching his 12th season as chief conductor of the BBC Symphony Orchestra, Sakari Oramo tonight gave his first Prom of the season with this typically well-balanced programme of British music framing unfamiliar pieces past or (relative) present with a classic of its genre.

First came a welcome revival for Tranquil Abiding – doubtless one of Jonathan Harvey’s most immediately appealing works and one where the rhythm of ‘breathing’ central to so much of his later output is afforded lucid expression. The degree to which its melodic content emerges out of then returns into the surrounding texture was duly conveyed by Oramo, who ensured a real sense of expectation as this music took on an almost tangible impetus towards its climax. A pity that some restless and inattentive listeners robbed the final stage of its ‘ultimate calm’.

Long before it had the eminence it now enjoys, Elgar’s Cello Concerto was a regular Proms item through advocacy from Beatrice Harrison, Anthony Pini and, latterly, Jacqueline du Pré. Senja Rummukainen (above) thus joined a distinguished roster of soloists and, in the first movement at least, seemed a little inhibited in this context. Her arresting lead-in to the scherzo brought playing of greater involvement, both here and in an Adagio whose autumnal eloquence never risked sentimentality. The relatively lengthy finale was securely rendered, its themes incisive then genial, and if the development culminated a little portentously, the reprise was tellingly subdued before a moving apotheosis and curtly inevitable coda. Rummukainen can be heard again in London in the Dvořák concerto, with the BBC Concert Orchestra, this October 4th.

In the 150th anniversary of his birth, and the 90th anniversary of his death, a major revival by Gustav Holst was almost mandatory. Setting his translation from the Sanskrit of a poem by Kālidāsa, The Cloud Messenger never quite recovered from its evidently disastrous premiere such that revivals have been occasional. At almost 45 minutes, it is a demonstrable statement of intent whose expansive choral gestures are assured but almost anachronistic given Holst’s chamber opera Sāvitri redefined his conceptual approach and musical idiom barely a year before. Yet the present work amply foreshadows much of what was achieved over the next two decades, notably a freely evolving melisma mostly unimpeded by rhythmic precedent and a harmonic subtlety such as only needed greater refinement in its handling to realize its fullest potential.

That much of this latter aspect was already in place is clear from those intimate passages for semi-chorus to the fore during its later stages, while the third of its five continuous section brought a confiding soliloquy that Jess Dandy (above) – contralto in the truest sense – realized with distinction. A pity she was not heard again, but the BBC Symphony Chorus was not found wanting beforehand or in that ethereal leave-taking with which the work evanesces, ‘Venus’-like, to its close. Whatever the stylistic inconsistencies, the best of it is Holstian to its core.

Now it is available in an expert reduction for chamber orchestra by Joseph Fort, The Cloud Messenger should attract more frequent hearings, but the Royal Albert Hall proved a fitting venue for this expansive original while Oramo’s perceptive performance did not disappoint.

For more on this year’s festival, visit the BBC Proms website – and for more on the artists involved, click on the names to read more about Jess Dandy, Senja Rummukainen, the BBC Symphony Chorus, BBC Symphony Orchestra and chief conductor Sakari Oramo

Published post no.2,261 – Monday 5 August 2024

In concert – Katie Trethewey, University of Birmingham Voices, CBSO Chorus & Orchestra / Ludovic Morlot: John Luther Adams – Vespers of the Blessed Earth; Sibelius

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Katie Tretheway (soprano), CBSO Chorus, University of Birmingham Voices, City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra / Ludovic Morlot

John Luther Adams Vespers of the Blessed Earth (2021) [CBSO co-commission: UK premiere]
Sibelius Symphony no.2 in D major Op.43 (1901-02)

Symphony Hall, Birmingham
Thursday 9 May 2024

Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse

Almost eight years ago, the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra and Ludovic Morlot gave the UK premiere of John Luther Adams’ Become Ocean. Tonight they, with the CBSO Chorus and University of Birmingham Voices, gave that of his most recent large-scale work.

It may have been obliquely inspired by Monteverdi, but Vespers of the Blessed Earth is very much a humanist response to those ecological challenges of the present and, to this end, its texts have a concreteness and functionality which is wholly at the service of the music. Thus A Brief Descent into Deep Time sets words as depict the (reverse) geological evolution of the Grand Canyon, its emotional matter-of-factness in contrast to A Weeping of Doves with its unaccompanied setting of the call of the Papuan fruit dove in what is one of Adams’ most ravishing inspirations. Hardly less affecting is Night-Shining Clouds – an interlude, in the form of a chaconne, for strings that follows what the composer calls a ‘sub-harmonic’ series with its slowly spiralling descent to the depths for a graphic evocation of cloudly pollutants.

The fourth and climactic section, Litanies of the Sixth Extinction divides the choruses into four parts which between them chant the names of species in the process of or likely to face extinction – closing ominously with Homo Sapiens. It was here that an antiphonal placing of strings and percussion, along with choirs of woodwind and brass placed along either side of the upper circle, came into its own but, typically for Adams, the effect was one of cumulative if not intensifying emotion. Aria of the Ghost Bird followed with its transcribed rendering of the call from the now-extinct Kaua’i O’ō, tonight taken by Katie Tretheway (above) in what was a finale of the gentlest eloquence. It duly remained for offstage flute and chimes, here placed up in the grand tier, to see this inconsistent while always absorbing work to its wistful close.

In his thoughtful introductory remarks, Morlot spoke of the appositeness when juxtaposing Adams with Sibelius and the latter’s Second Symphony, which followed the interval, made his point admirably. Once the most popular such piece by Sibelius (and, indeed, of the last century), latter-day performances too often fight shy of its innate rhetoric or overt emotion. Without being disengaged, this account succeeded because of its methodical trajectory, not least a first movement whose restraint was never at the expense of its overall incisiveness.

With its stark contrast between conflict and consolation, the slow movement can easily fall into overkill but not here – Morlot evincing a keen sense of cohesion through to its baleful ending. The scherzo likewise secured keen cohesion from its alternate energy and raptness, then its surging transition into the finale brought an emotional frisson maintained through to an apotheosis whose grandeur never felt self-conscious or overbearing. Whether the triumph expressed is cultural or personal, the underlying essence of its affirmation was not in doubt.

It certainly set the seal on a memorable evening – one that confirmed the undoubted rapport between orchestra and conductor, while bridging the conceptual divide and almost 120 years between these pieces. Hopefully the CBSO and Morlot will be working together again soon.

Click on the link to read more on the current CBSO concert season, and on the names for more on soprano Katie Trethewey, conductor Ludovic Morlot, the University of Birmingham Voices and the CBSO Chorus. Meanwhile you can click on the name for more on composer John Luther Adams

Published post no.2,203 – Saturday 8 June 2024

In concert – CBSO Chorus & Orchestra / Joshua Weilerstein: Haas, Bernstein, Shaw & Dvořak

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Michael Mulroy (treble), CBSO Chorus, City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra / Joshua Weilerstein

Haas Study for Strings (1943)
Bernstein Chichester Psalms (1965)
Shaw Music in Common Time (2014)
Dvořak Symphony no.9 in E minor Op.95 ‘From the New World’ (1893)

Symphony Hall, Birmingham
Wednesday 15 May 2024

Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse Picture (c) Yuri Pires Tavares

In recent seasons, Joshua Weilerstein has presided over several of the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra’s most thought-provoking concerts and tonight’s programme was no exception in its potent mix of the recent and unfamiliar, alongside a symphonic evergreen.

It was thanks to the conductor and Auschwitz survivor Karel Ančerl that Study for Strings by Pavel Haas survived its immediate context, as propaganda for a Nazi documentary on cultural activity at the Theresienstadt transit-camp, to become one of this composer’s defining works. Felicitously combining Czech folk music with traditional Jewish inflections and (in its central section) more expressionist undertones, alongside a compact and quasi-symphonic design, it is a potent indication as to where post-war Czech music might conceivably have been headed.

It duly brought a vivid and energetic response from the CBSO strings, who were then joined by brass and percussion in Bernstein’s Chichester Psalms. Commissioned by the Dean of the city’s cathedral, it enabled the composer to pull together a number of earlier or aborted ideas in three Psalm-settings given focus by being heard in Hebrew translation with an authentic (if impractical as regards the percussion) scoring. Weilerstein drew the requisite verve from its initial setting, and if Michael Mulroy seemed tentative in its successor (discreet amplification might have helped), the contrast between his plaintiveness and edginess of the male-chorus interludes was pertinently drawn. Its anguished prelude for strings powerfully rendered, the final setting had an affecting eloquence through to the serene unaccompanied closing chorus.

After the interval, the CBSO Chorus was heard in rather more restrained guise with Music in Common Time by Caroline Shaw. Its brief and oblique text might have come from a late song by Talk Talk, but it yet provides the framework for a cannily unfolding fantasia in which the eddying textures of John Adams frame a speculative section with its string writing more than a little redolent of early Penderecki. Throughout, voices and instruments were finely melded in a composition that certainly suggests a plausible way out of any post-minimalist impasse.

What to say about the New World Symphony? Firstly, that it fitted judiciously into the overall programme as to conception; secondly, that it brought out the best in this partnership. Right from its evocative introduction, Weilerstein was alive to those many expressive ambiguities in the initial Allegro (a pity, though, that he omitted the exposition repeat as this undermines the formal balance overall), then drew a rapt and often searching response from the CBSO in the Largo – Rachel Pankhurst making the most of its indelible cor anglais melody. Nor was there any lack of bite or (in its trio section) gracefulness in the scherzo; such incisiveness of ensemble consistent throughout the finale, whose rhythmic impetus ensured the coda was not merely decisive but crowned the whole work in an apotheosis as conclusive as it was joyous. In his thoughtful initial remarks, Weilerstein spoke of this programme as being defined by its complexity, nuance and confrontation: qualities not always evident in present-day music, or in present-day discourse, but whose absence is our loss – as this concert eloquently confirmed.

Click on the link to read more on the current CBSO concert season, and on this link to read about the CBSO’s 2024/25 season. Click on the names for more on conductor Joshua Weilerstein, the CBSO Chorus and composer Caroline Shaw

Published post no.2,181 – Friday 17 May 2024