Category Archives: Orchestral

Arcana at the Proms – Prom 5: BBC National Orchestra of Wales & Ryan Bancroft – Schoenberg & Zemlinsky

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Schoenberg Pelleas und Melisande Op.5 (1902-03)
Zemlinsky Die Seejungfrau (1902-03)

BBC National Orchestra of Wales / Ryan Bancroft

Royal Albert Hall, London
Monday 22 July 2024

reviewed by Richard Whitehouse

While the Proms has periodically resorted to re-creating concerts from its earlier years, there have been relatively few attempts to recreate groundbreaking events elsewhere – so making this replication of a programme played in Vienna on 25th January 1905 the more significant. Neither work enjoyed regular revival until the 1980s – the Schoenberg through logistics and the Zemlinsky through inaccessibility – but their expansive all-round scope, and their lavish forces, ensured that both were heard to advantage in the opulent Royal Albert Hall ambience.

It is not clear whether this running-order was that of the Vienna concert, where Schoenberg’s symphonic poem Pelleas und Melisande was lauded as the more original statement. Which is true as regards its late-Romantic idiom on the cusp of nascent Modernism, but the composer made things more difficult than they might be through his approach to form, whose outcome Busoni likened to ‘‘a number of sharp implements jostling in a sack’’. Maurice Maeterlinck’s drama may be covered in its essentials, but the challenge of channelling this into a systematic evolution make for an undeniably episodic trajectory. Ryan Bancroft succeeded admirably in holding together the sprawling whole, not least with his relatively swift (40-minute) traversal that kept the narrative aspect always in focus, while emphasizing the numerous harmonic and textural innovations. Nor was the BBC National Orchestra of Wales lacking in power, finesse or, indeed, that clarity needed to convey the density of Schoenberg’s motivic thinking, but the feeling of this work being ultimately being no more than the sum of its parts was inescapable.

Not something as could be levelled at Die Seejungfrau, Zemlinsky’s symphonic fantasy after Hans Christian Andersen that was well received if soon condemned as unduly derivative and disappeared after the score was withdrawn in 1907 – only to resurface 77 years later. It might lack the force and personality of Schoenberg, but Zemlinsky’s handling of an orchestra only slightly less extensive is comparatively effortless; the formal division into three movements of almost equal duration providing an overview of, without being beholden to the narrative, while enabling its composer’s hardly less resourceful handling of motifs to evolve with due artlessness. True, Zemlinsky’s melodic language leans more audibly on others (chief among them Tchaikovsky and Mahler), but its unforced spontaneity feels in striking contrast to the portentous, even over-wrought aspect of Schoenberg’s writing. BBCNOW responded with unfailing sensitivity, and Bancroft ensured a seamless unfolding over each movement as of the work overall. For all its stylistic derivation, Zemlinsky’s is intrinsically the better piece.

Such an outcome may not have been evident had the pieces been otherwise juxtaposed, such as only made the decision to present them thus the more worthwhile. Clearly attuned to their notably differing idioms, Bancroft brought out the best in both works (interestingly he opted to omit the ‘Sea Witch’ episode from the second movement, excised before the premiere but restored in the critical edition of 2013) – their respective qualities able to be assessed in more objective terms, now that consideration of ‘historical necessity’ has itself receded into history.

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 the BBC National Orchestra of Wales and conductor Ryan Bancroft. Dedicated pages for the composers can be accessed by clicking on Schoenberg and Zemlinsky

Published post no.2,249 – Wednesday 24 July 2024

In concert – Mary Bevan, CBSO / Edward Gardner: Schubert – Symphony no.9 & Songs

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Mary Bevan (soprano), City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra / Edward Gardner

Schubert
Rosamunde D797 – No. 3b, Romanze (1823)
Der Erlkönig D328 (1815, orch. Berlioz 1860)
Die Forelle D550 (1816, orch. Britten 1942)
Im Abendrot D799 (1825, orch. Reger 1914)
Geheimes D719 (1821, orch. Brahms, 1862)
Symphony no.9 in C major D944 ‘Great’ (1825-6, rev. 1828)

Symphony Hall, Birmingham
Wednesday 17 May 2024

Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse Pictures by Benjamin Ealovega (Ed Gardner), Victoria Cadisch (Mary Bevan)

July concerts no longer a consistent fixture in the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra’s schedule, it made sense to end the current season with the intended programme for the fourth and final volume of this orchestra’s Schubert cycle with former chief guest conductor Edward Gardner.

If not his final such project, the ‘Great’ was the final symphony that Schubert finished and the culminating orchestral work of his last decade. Now, as almost two centuries ago, it is not an easy work to being off – but this account hit the ground running with a flowing yet purposeful introduction that elided seamlessly with the initial Allegro. Gardner kept momentum on a sure yet flexible rein over those impetuous and capricious themes of its exposition; underlining the subtly eddying tension of its development and a propulsive coda whose link-up with the tempo of that introduction was marred only by the too emphatic final gesture. Respectively plaintive or consoling, the Andante’s alternate episodes were brought into eloquent accord – the fanfare -riven anguish at its climax then the stark fatalism towards its close being especial highlights.

The essential link between the scherzos of Beethoven and Bruckner, the third movement had the right buoyancy but also a suavity in keeping with the Viennese character of its dance-like themes, and complemented by those of its trio whose lilting elegance were tinged by wistful regret. Launched with a commanding call-to-attention, the Finale did not lack for vigour but, unlike so many performances, Gardner was mindful not to rush either here or in the capering second theme whose relentless string accompaniment was vividly rendered. The development more than fulfilled its purpose as an extended transition into the reprise, then the coda opened with a frisson of anticipation such as underpinned the closing pages as they powered towards the decisive but never headlong close to what was a convincing and engrossing performance.

Regarding repeats, Gardner observed that of the first movement’s exposition but not those in the second half during either scherzo or trio, and that of the finale’s exposition. This at least made matters easier for the players, and left options open for their inclusion in the recording.

That forthcoming release on Chandos will hopefully find room for the five songs that formed the first half of this concert, with each of them arranged by a different composer. The pensive Romanze from Schubert’s incidental music to Rosamunde was heard in the composer’s own orchestration, with the compact psychodrama of Der Erlkōnig in a resourceful and nowadays overlooked orchestration by Berlioz. The looping but not always ingratiating playfulness of Die Forelle was expertly attended to by Britten, while the pensive soulfulness of Im Abendrot summoned an appropriate response from Reger; the sombre resignation of Geheimnis making for a welcome encore in its orchestration by Brahms. Throughout the selection, Mary Bevan’s veracity of emotional response and her clarity of enunciation were qualities worth savouring.

This programme may have concluded the Schubert cycle by Gardner and the CBSO, though hopefully it will not see of this partnership in recorded terms – the symphonies of Schumann, and maybe Brahms, being well worth considering as additions to the orchestra’s discography.

For details on the 2024-25 season A Season of Joy, head to the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra website. Click on the names to read more about soprano Mary Bevan and conductor Edward Gardner

Published post no.2,243 – Thursday 18 July 2024

In concert – Martin Fröst, Janine Jansen, LSO / Gianandrea Noseda: Lost and Found @ Barbican Hall

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Martin Fröst (clarinet), Janine Jansen (violin), London Symphony Orchestra / Gianandrea Noseda

Beethoven Leonore Overture no.3 Op.72b (1806)
Beamish Distans: Concerto for violin and clarinet (UK premiere) (2023)
Prokofiev Symphony no.7 in C# minor Op.131 (1952)

Barbican Hall, London
Thursday 20 June 2024

Reviewed by Ben Hogwood Pictures (c) Mark Allan

The London Symphony Orchestra and their principal guest conductor Gianandrea Noseda continued their Prokofiev symphony cycle with the elusive Seventh, prefaced by one of Beethoven’s four operatic overtures and a finally realised UK premiere.

This was Distans, a co-commission between four orchestras for Sally Beamish to write a concerto for the unusual combination of clarinet and violin. Its first performance was delayed due to the pandemic, which became the inspiration for the content of the work. Themes of separation run through the three movements, drawing on the composer’s Swedish and Scottish connections. Separated from her children during lockdown, Beamish also used the forceful musical personalities of soloists Martin Fröst and Janine Jansen (both above) for inspiration.

The two began offstage, however, beckoning to each other across the Barbican Hall as Calling, the first movement, took shape. This was named in the concert notes as ‘kulning’, “the high-pitched singing of women calling the calls on remote pastures”. Beamish’s wide-angle musical lens produced an effective and touching first paragraph, the soloists eventually united on stage in music of the dance, evoking a Swedish fiddle with the full weight and energy of the orchestra in support.

Echoing, the slow second movement, explored more intense feelings of isolation through beautiful scoring, earthy cellos and metallic percussion casting a rarefied light suggesting a Swedish winter. The third movement, Journeying, was powered by an ancient march, the soloists together in spirit and melody, out in the elements with the orchestra. Although the music of beckoning reappeared, the mood was one of reunification, the soloists now at peace and content to remain on stage.

Distans made a strong impact in the hall, and Beamish’s writing for clarinet in her first major piece for the instrument made the most of Martin Fröst’s extraordinary breath control and agility. Jansen also fully inhabited the spirit of the piece, though her part often felt within that of the clarinet, and rarely used the high register. This was definitely a work to hear again, for Beamish’s sound world is a very attractive one in concert.

After the interval, Prokofiev’s Seventh Symphony was given an affectionate performance, yet one that also found the darkness lurking within. One of Prokofiev’s final works, the Seventh was written for the Soviet Children’s Radio Division, and as a result adopts a youthful stance, with commendably little room for nostalgia. Instead the composer gets up to his characteristically witty tricks, with inventive scoring enjoyed by the orchestra as woodwind doubled in octaves, and the piano and harp supplemented lower strings.

The music danced, a reminder of Prokofiev’s balletic qualities. The second movement Allegretto had poise in its first tune but a heavier swagger in the second, suggesting the unpredictable movements of older age – though an impressively powerful and assured close was reached. The following Andante enjoyed rich string colours, together with brilliant individual characterisations from oboe (Juliana Koch) and cor anglais (Clément Noël).

Yet the abiding memories came from two themes used in the outer movements. The first, a sweeping unison for orchestra, lovingly recreates the key and spirit of the composer’s first piano concerto, one of his greatest early successes – and was delivered with great charm here. The second, a cautionary motif from flute and glockenspiel resembling a ticking clock, returned like a regretful memory at the end – reminding this listener of an equivalent moment in Shostakovich’s last symphony, completed nearly 20 years later. It ended this performance on a thoughtful note, in spite of the exuberance that had gone before. The LSO were excellent throughout, presenting a convincing case for the Seventh as a bittersweet triumph, and reminding us in the process of Prokofiev’s abundance as a melodic composer.

Meanwhile Beethoven’s Leonore Overture no.3 began in a more desperate mood of resignation, the opera’s main character Florestan losing all hope in prison. Noseda – fresh from recording a symphony cycle with the National Symphony Orchestra in Washington – has very strong Beethovenian instincts, and paced this just right, with an appropriate hush falling over the hall. As the drama heightened, and an evocative offstage trumpet beckoned, the release from prison led to an outpouring of joy, sweeping us up in its forward momentum. The players were off the leash, enjoying every second.

You can find more information on further 2023/24 concerts at the London Symphony Orchestra website

Published post no.2,216 – Friday 21 June 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 – Anne-Sophie Mutter, London Symphony Orchestra / Thomas Adès: Myth and Magic @ Barbican Hall

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Anne-Sophie Mutter (violin), London Symphony Orchestra / Thomas Adès

Stravinsky Orpheus (1947)
Lutosławski Partita (for Violin and Orchestra) (1988)
Adès Air – Homage to Sibelius (Violin Concerto) (UK premiere) (2021-22)
Stravinsky Agon (1953-57)

Barbican Hall, London
Thursday 31 May 2024

Reviewed by Ben Hogwood Pictures (c) Mark Allan

This rewarding concert featured the imaginative programming of four works looking simultaneously backwards and forwards, with two great Stravinsky ballets framing shorter works for violin and orchestra.

Anne-Sophie Mutter (below) has forged a pioneering path for contemporary music throughout her career, and added another dedication to an illustrious list that includes Lutosławski, Penderecki, Sir André Previn and Unsuk Chin. Air – Homage to Sibelius was written in the light of her admiration for Adès’ Concentric Paths, his Violin Concerto of 2005. It is a very different work indeed, an extended meditation based on a single melody written in the slow days of lockdown in 2021. In the execution Adès brought his music unexpectedly close to that of John Tavener or Arvo Pärt, the latter’s Cantus in memoriam Benjamin Britten recalled by the solemnly descending melody. Beginning on high with the orchestral violins, this was soon joined by Mutter’s silky-smooth tones. Now the piece developed with the soloist in charge, its serene progress tinged with longing. With no brass in the orchestra the textures were light, with tuned gongs suggesting a soft breeze, before the music gained weight on the gradual descent as though nearing the bottom of a mountain. The Sibelius homage could be determined in the line and structure of the piece, and also the rarefied light that it cast adrift.

Before the interval we heard Lutosławski’s Partita, written initially for violin and piano in 1984 but orchestrated for Mutter four years later. The word ‘partita’ is interpreted by Lutosławski in its 18th century form, and this work begins with a stern Allegro giusto that comes adrift when the soloist starts to use portamento, the melody travelling through microtones. Mutter’s control here was masterful, yet the feeling of dislocation was compounded. The central Largo was powerful indeed, the violin singing a darker song, before the closing Presto brought a terrific burst of energy, the colourful orchestration prompting and cajoling. Mutter’s voice, though, spoke the loudest.

The concert had begun with a relatively rare live account of Orpheus, the second of Stravinsky’s three Greek ballets. Thomas Adès directed a compelling performance of a work whose dynamic levels remain quiet for almost the entire half hour – yet contain music of acute description and poignancy. There is dread too, which Adès brought out in the scenes where Orpheus is surrounded by the Furies, then where he met his untimely demise at the hands of the Bacchantes. With the harp of Bryn Lewis treading a solitary, elegant line, Orpheus’ lyre remained as a ghostly presence right through to the end – in spite of the efforts of the Angel of Death, brilliantly voiced by violinist and orchestra leader Benjamin Gilmore.

The concert finished with the remarkable Agon, with which Stravinsky completed his Greek trilogy and indeed entire ballet output when premiered in New York in 1957. Even in his mid-70s the composer was pushing boundaries, this time in the direction of Schoenberg’s serial technique, without compromising his dramatic instincts. With no plot, Agon is essentially a celebration of movement, Stravinsky free to explore old dance forms through the prism of twentieth century harmony and melody, with remarkably imaginative instrumentation. This performance fully revealed its genius, the Renaissance and Baroque dances given a new lease of life with orchestration turned on its head. The colours were enhanced by mandolin (Huw Davies), harp (Bryn Lewis) and percussion (Neil Percy and Tom Edwards), not to mention the superb LSO brass, wind and string sections. Double basses got in on the act, playing high in the register, the weird and wonderful sounds given gruff harmonies and comedic punctuation as the ballet unfolded. Light and shade were exquisitely explored, the advantage of having a composer-conductor such as Thomas Adès at the helm meaning no stone was left unturned. This was a memorable interpretation, capping a wholly stimulating evening of music making.

You can find more information on further 2023/24 concerts at the London Symphony Orchestra website

Published post no.2,195 – Friday 31 May 2024