Joanne Lunn, Hallé Orchestra / Ryan Wigglesworth – Mozart & Mahler

Joanne Lunn (soprano, above), Hallé Orchestra / Ryan Wigglesworth (conductor and piano)

Mozart Ch’io mi scordi di te, K505 (1786)
Mozart Symphony no.34 in C major, K338 (1780)
Mahler Symphony no.4 in G major (1892, 1899-1900, rev. 1901-10)

Bridgewater Hall, Manchester; Wednesday 8 November 2017

From 24 November you will be able to listen to a BBC Radio 3 broadcast of this programme – link to follow

Written by Ben Hogwood

This was a nicely programmed afternoon concert, an attractive set of pieces with a Viennese connection that could initially be seen as lightweight but which were anything but.

First up was an inventive choice, Mozart’s standalone concert aria Ch’io Mi Scordi De Te?, a tribute to the soprano Nancy Storace. Written for soprano with piano and reduced orchestral forces, the composer used a text attributed to Lorenzo Da Ponte, who wrote the libretto for Don Giovanni, The Marriage of Figaro and Così fan tutte. Joanne Lunn sang with great purity of tone, with her high notes particularly well-judged, while Ryan Wigglesworth (below) directed with sensitivity from the piano in the tender duet sections, where the orchestra felt like eavesdroppers.

This was followed by an extremely tasteful reading of Mozart’s Symphony no.34. This is a work that doesn’t get to poke its head above the parapet as much as its neighbouring ‘named’ symphonies in the composer’s output such as the Haffner and Linz. Wigglesworth chose his speeds well, so that the lovely Viennese textures were just the right density for Mozart’s lighter (but not lightweight) melodies. The energetic Hallé strings went well with the more graceful woodwind, particularly in the joyful finale, while the serene slow movement was also a highlight.

Mahler’s Symphony no.4 is, on face value, his most ‘classical’, following traditions established by Schubert and the like, innovatively adding a soprano for the final movement, a child’s vision of heaven. Wigglesworth’s interpretation was carefully thought out and extremely well played, the woodwind of the Hallé rising to the considerable challenges posed by this deceptively difficult symphony.

On the surface, the Fourth is grace and charm personified, but the cracks often show in the music, the lower you go in the orchestra. The first movement was crisp and clear, a bright outdoors scene beautifully painted, but a chill shadow was cast in the second movement thanks to leader Paul Barritt’s solo contribution on a specially tuned violin, not to mention those ominous rumblings in the bass. The slow movement had a beautiful serenity but the feeling of slight unease persisted, quelled briefly by a magnificent evocation of the gates of heaven, Wigglesworth securing rich, bright colours from the orchestra.

Lunn returned to the stage for the child’s vision of heaven, a radiant encounter but with the macabre orchestral elements present and correct. Wigglesworth consistently found the delicacy of Mahler’s scoring, as well as the ghoulish apparitions that are never far from the surface of this enchanting piece.

While this concert is not yet available online, you can listen to a Spotify playlist of the works performed below:

Alina Ibragimova & Il Pomo d’Oro – Michael Haydn & Mendelssohn at the Wigmore Hall

Alina Ibragimova (violin, above), Il Pomo d’Oro (below) / Frederico Guglielmo

Michael Haydn Violin Concerto in G major (c1757-64)
Mendelssohn String Symphony no.10 in B minor (1823)
Mendelssohn Violin Concerto in D minor (1822)

Wigmore Hall, London; Tuesday 7 November 2017

Written by Ben Hogwood

A relatively rare Tuesday lunchtime treat from the Wigmore Hall took the form of an hour of music from the late classical period from Il Pomo d’Oro, their concertmaster Federico Guglielmo and violinist Alina Ibragimova.

It would have been all too easy for them to program Mendelssohn’s much-loved Violin Concerto in E minor as the main work, but Ibragimova has a special affinity with a much earlier work in the same form. The Violin Concerto in D minor, accompanied by a smaller force of string orchestra, was written when the composer was just 13, and is a spiky, energetic piece channeling the spirit of C.P.E. Bach’s ‘Sturm und Drang’ period from the 1770s.

In this performance the notes fairly leapt from the page, with quick tempo choices demanding and receiving dextrous fingerwork from all the string players. Il Pomo d’Oro were an equal match for Ibragimova’s pyrotechnics, which were delivered with deceptive calm but communicated the passionate music within the fast movements. A sanguine slow movement offered sunnier, breezier climes before the energetic finale took a catchy tune and spun it so that Mendelssohn’s melodic invention stayed rooted in the mind long after the concert.

Providing a rather lovely contrast was the Violin Concerto in G major from Michael Haydn, Franz Joseph’s older brother. Often the poor musical relation of the family, he nonetheless wrote some fine works himself, particularly in the choral field, with memory recalling a fine Requiem performed relatively recently by the King’s Consort at the BBC Proms.

This performance at the Wigmore Hall was notable for its lively interplay and distinctive melodies, and the interactions between violinist and orchestra showed their mutual enjoyment of Haydn’s music, especially in the jaunty finale. Here Ibragimova took the lead, as she did in the aria-like slow movement, where the violin sang more graciously, ideal in the hall’s acoustic.

Between the two concertos we heard the String Symphony no.10 in B minor, another remarkable example of Mendelssohn’s promise as a teenager. This one was written a year after the Violin Concerto, and quite how a teenager could achieve such an assured standard with such substantial melodies remains a mystery! The language again is direct, as are all the minor key works from this period. Il Pomo d’Oro played with poise and guile, paying sensitive attention to their melodic phrasing through selective vibrato, led by Guglielmo. It helped define their colourful sound, a complete rebuff to those who might suggest ‘period instrument’ ensembles are lacking in subtlety and variation. Here we had those qualities in abundance, the best possible advocates for Mendelssohn’s well-spent youth!

Unfortunately this concert is not available online, but you can listen to clips of Alina Ibragimova’s recording of Mendelssohn’s Violin Concertos at the Hyperion website. Meanwhile a Spotify playlist including the works from this concert can be enjoyed below:

Wigmore Mondays: Florilegium visit Paris and Germany

Florilegium (Ashley Solomon (flute, director), Bojan Čičić (violin), Reiko Ichise (viola da gamba), Stephen Devine (harpsichord)

Telemann Paris Quartet No.4 in B minor, TWV43:h2 (1738)
J.S. Bach Trio Sonata in G major, BWV1038 (1732-35)
Rameau Pièces de clavecin en concerts – Suite No.5 in D minor (1741)
Rebel Les caractères de la danse (1715)

Wigmore Hall, London; Monday 30 October 2017

Written by Ben Hogwood

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

This year marks the 250th anniversary of the death of Georg Philipp Telemann. If that name doesn’t mean anything to you, then perhaps it should – especially if you are a follower of the music of Bach or Handel. Telemann, so the concert note for this recital informed us, wrote more than the two composers combined – an extraordinary feat when you think that he wrote a number of large scale stage and sacred works.

Some of his most admired works are on a smaller scale however, such as the collection of Paris Quartets he published in two parts, in 1730 and 1738. They are intimate works for flute, violin, viola da gamba and continuo (usually harpsichord) that allow a great deal of flexibility for the performers, subtly pushing the boundaries Baroque chamber music was exploring at the time.

Complementing the Telemann in this concert are works by J.S. Bach – a Trio Sonata co-written with son Carl Philipp Emanuel – and works by the Frenchmen Rameau and Rebel, each bringing the spirit of the dance to an intimate grouping of musicians.

Follow the music

Telemann Paris Quartet No.4 in B minor, TWV43:h2 (from 1:41) (19 minutes)

A bright and brisk Prelude gives a good illustration of how Telemann writes so well for strings and wind, but the performers often have difficult lines to play, as in the passage from 5:09 where the tempo quickens. After the Prelude the quartet moves into a series of dances, with an elegant Coulant led by the flute (7:26), then movements entitled Gai, Vite (11:18), Triste (a sombre, melancholy dance from 13:19) and finally a Menuet (15:55) that proves to be much lighter on its feet, especially in its quick middle section.

J.S. Bach Trio Sonata in G major, BWV1038 (from 23:32, 7 minutes)

Bach was always aware of musical developments in his age, and with this particular Trio Sonata it appears he only wrote one part of the three, delegating the other two for son Carl Philippe Emmanuel to complete. Although there are three parts, typically with Baroque instrumental pieces there are actually four instruments taking part – the harpsichord and viola da gamba (an early form of cello without a spike, and in this case with five strings) share the bass / harmony roles.

This piece starts with an attractive, languid line on the flute that the violin shadows. The mood is – perhaps for Bach – surprisingly relaxed. A quick movement, marked Vivace (lively) follows from 26:42, but it’s gone in a flash – and a much slower Adagio movement begins at 27:38, with thoughtful interplay between flute and violin. Then at 29:40 a more substantial quicker movement, marked Presto, features typical Bach figures passed between each of the four instruments.

Rameau Pièces de clavecin en concerts – Suite No.5 in D minor (from 32:31, 13 minutes)

Rameau named the three movements of this suite after his fellow composers, although it doesn’t suggest in the concert note if he was painting a character portrait of each. If he was, then Forqueray, the first subject, would be a genial sort with a memorable hook – in this case introduced by the harpsichord from 32:31. Cupis (from 37:10) would be a thoughtful, deep kind of person, prone to a few bouts of melancholy, while Marais (42:34) would be a bright, energetic figure, again with a catchy tune with frequent and highly enjoyable repeats!

Rebel Les caractères de la danse (from 46:00, 8 minutes)

An early medley, if you like – a collection of short dances all rolled up into one. In the course of a fun-packed eight minutes, Rebel fills the music with eleven different dance forms, both slow and fast, giving his ensemble plenty to do. The harpsichord provides the crisp rhythmic emphasis, along with the viola da gamba, but is also given the tune at times, and invited to show off. The piece ends with a rapid dance with which only the quickest of feet could keep up!

Encore

A Bolivian dance from one of Florilegium’s three albums of Bolivian Baroque music (55:10), with some lively lines for violin and flute – and Reiko Ichise ditching the viola da gamba for shakers!

Thoughts on the concert

This was a very stylish and enjoyable concert. Florilegium have been together since 1991, and their performing style shows them totally at ease with the music of the Baroque period. Here they flourished especially in the Rameau and Rebel dance-based works, where harpsichordist Stephen Devine prompted and probed with tasteful, rhythmic playing.

The Telemann was a charming performance, the seriousness of its home key of B minor given a lift in the dance movements, while the Bach was unusually lyrical for the trio sonata form. A concert played with good humour and considerable panache, topped off by the exoticism of the Bolivian encore.

Further listening and reading

You can hear Florilegium’s recordings of the complete Telemann Paris Quartets in three volumes on Spotify. The third volume includes the quartet heard in this concert:

Meanwhile their explorations of the Bolivian Baroque can also be heard here, a first disc of three:

Telemann’s Water Music is one of his best loved works, and makes an excellent companion piece to the Handel. From experience I can say it is a thrilling work to be part of, as this performance from the Musica Antiqua Köln and Reinhard Goebel illustrates!

Steven Isserlis & Olli Mustonen at the Wigmore Hall – A Revolutionary cello recital

Steven Isserlis (cello) and Olli Mustonen (piano)

Prokofiev Ballade, Op.15 (1912)
Mustonen Chanson russe & Danse Oriental (1995)
Kabalevsky Cello Sonata in B flat major Op.71 (1962)

Wigmore Hall, London; Sunday 29 October 2017

Written by Ben Hogwood

A chamber concert with revolution in the air. This carefully chosen recital was short and to the point, but contained some deeply meaningful music lying just outside of the normal repertoire for cello and piano. Just before Steven Isserlis and Olli Mustonen played an early Sibelius Waltz as their encore, the cellist explained the programme’s themes of revolution, both in Russia and Finland.

They began with a startling performance of Prokofiev’s Ballade in C minor, startling in the sense that this music was brought to life with an intensity rarely experienced in this or any of the composer’s music. Isserlis was at his probing best, particularly in the pizzicato sections, but Mustonen took the lead, bringing out the composer’s phrasing as only he can, with heavily weighted emphasis on the most important harmonic notes. Thus the piece became a Ballade in the truest sense of the word – dark, passionate and stormy.

Mustonen’s joining of links between his own Finland and Russia was next, the Chanson russe surprising in its simplicity, which was touchingly effective, before a whirlwind Danse Oriental that could have been contemporaneous with the Prokofiev. It made a highly effective concert piece, and both performers clearly enjoyed it.

The most substantial piece was Kabalevsky’s Cello Sonata, written perhaps inevitably for the great cellist Mstislav Rostropovich in 1962. With some of the Rostropovich dedications the cellist’s spirit hangs heavily over the music, and it was easy to imagine his larger than life projections of the melodies. While Isserlis may not have the sheer volume of the late Russian (who does?!) he has sensitive phrasing and a lovely tone at his disposal, and, at the beginning of the second movement, produced a feather-light touch on the tremolos that sent a shiver down the spine.

Again it was satisfying to experience a piece packed full of melody, and with more harmonic sleights that Mustonen inevitably brought to the fore. The style could be viewed as a hybrid of Prokofiev and Shostakovich – no bad thing, certainly! – and the main melody, which reappeared at the end, had a harmonic twist and simplicity that pulled subtly at the heartstrings.

The major-minor subtleties of the writing were fully explored, and while Mustonen often took the lead rhythmically this felt wholly appropriate. Kabalevsky is a composer whose music works well in the concert hall, with memorable tunes, a sense of humour and pockets of unexpected poignancy. It is less obviously weighted than Prokofiev but extremely enjoyable on its own terms.

Gratifyingly, Isserlis and Mustonen explored those qualities to the full, and with their virtuosity and drive they gave the composer the best possible advocacy. The Sibelius waltz, known as the Lulu Waltz, was economy itself, over in a minute – but leaving a strong impression.

Further listening and reading

Unfortunately this concert is not available online, but you can hear the premiere recording, made by cellist Mstislav Rostropovich with the composer at the piano, on the Spotify link below:

In addition the Kabalevsky Cello Concertos are highly recommended – and they can be heard in these recent recordings by Torleif Thedéen and the Hannover Radio Philharmonic Orchestra, conducted by Eiji Oue:

Jean-Efflam Bavouzet, BBC SO / Sakari Oramo – Schmitt, Franck, Ravel & Sibelius Symphony no.3

Jean-Efflam Bavouzet (piano), BBC Symphony Orchestra / Sakari Oramo (above)

Barbican Hall, London; Friday 27 October 2017

Schmitt Symphony No.2 in E flat major, Op.137 (1957)

Franck Variations symphoniques (1885)

Ravel Piano Concerto in D ‘for the Left Hand’ (1930)

Sibelius Symphony No. 3 in C major, Op.52 (1907)

You can listen to the broadcast on BBC Radio 3 by clicking here (available until 26 November)

Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse

Sakari Oramo‘s Sibelius cycle continued as part of a judiciously balanced programme which opened with a rare revival of the Second Symphony by Florent Schmitt. This continues the French symphonism of Roussel and Honegger; albeit with a quirkiness of melodic thought and virtuoso handling of sizable forces to confirm Schmitt as no mere epigone. Indeed, the angular wit of the first movement suggests his willingness to confront post-war modernism head on, and if the central Lent admits warmer and even tender emotion, the finale resumes the assaultive mood with an unremitting intent through to its scabrous close. Oramo and the BBC Symphony Orchestra had the measure of this unsettling piece throughout; their responsiveness underlining that Schmitt was not one to accept the passing of his own era with even a hint of good grace.

Jean-Efflam Bavouzet (below) then joined the orchestra for two staples from the French concertante repertoire, separated in time by almost half a century. Good to see that Franck‘s Variations symphoniques has now re-established itself in UK concert programmes, as this unlikely yet successful hybrid of elements from symphony and concerto, as drawn into the pithiest of its composer’s cyclical designs, has a substance more than equal to its entertainment. Bavouzet and Oramo were especially fine in the expressive contrasts of its opening minutes, and if the rhapsodic musing at its centre seemed a little inflexible, then the effervescence of its final section too forcefully projected, there was no doubting the coherence and the ingeniousness of its composer’s response to a piano-virtuoso tradition he spent much of his life despising.

That the Franck outlines a ‘three movements in one’ formal design makes it a more than likely precursor to Ravel‘s Piano Concerto in D major, the most enduring of those left-hand works written for the redoubtable (if frequently wrong-headed) Paul Wittgenstein. Not the least attraction of tonight’s performance was its emphasizing the canniness of the balance between soloist and orchestra, such that the former was never less than audible in the context of what is the most overtly rhetorical and combative of all Ravel’s works. Add to this Bavouzet’s limpidity in the eloquent theme which returns intensified in the cadenza, not to mention Oramo’s control of momentum in the jazz-inflected animation of the scherzo, and what resulted was a reading attentive to every aspect of this masterpiece: one that justifiably brought the house down.

Sibelius’s Third Symphony is easy to underestimate as a transitional work poised between overt romanticism and renewed classicism. It was to Oramo’s credit that elements of both aesthetics were not only evident but also reconciled – not least in an opening Allegro which moved between fervency and incisiveness with no mean purpose. The highlight came with a central Andantino whose quasi allegretto marking may have been minimal, but whose opening-up of emotional space made for a riveting listen. The final movement was hardly less impressive in its purposeful equivocation between scherzo and finale, Oramo teasing resolve out of uncertainty so the hymn-like theme that eventually emerges built to a powerful apotheosis. A gripping performance, reinforced by the conviction of the BBCSO’s response.

For more concert information on the BBC Symphony Orchestra, head to their website

You can hear a recording of the Florent Schmitt made by Leif Segerstam on Spotify below: