Britten Sinfonia At Lunch Two: Anna Clyne’s This Lunar Beauty

britten-sinfonia

Julia Doyle (soprano), Marios Argiros (oboe), Maggie Cole (harpsichord), Jacqueline Shave, Miranda Dale (violins), Clare Finnimore (cello), Caroline Dearnley (cello)

Wigmore Hall, 20 January 2016

Written by Ben Hogwood

If you live in London or the South East of England, and fancy a bit of musical exploration, then the Britten Sinfonia’s At Lunch series comes highly recommended.

Celebrating its tenth anniversary, the enterprise promises a brand new work in every concert – and proceeds to build the whole hour of music around it, often with the shared theme of a particular instrumental or vocal combination. With programme notes for adults or schoolchildren, it is one of the most accessible lunchtime concerts you could wish to enjoy – and as well as having the obvious bonus of professional quality performances, it is completely judgement-free!

This particular concert illustrated just why the formula works so well. Taking as its theme the combination of voice, oboe and strings, the Britten Sinfonia built an intricately weaved concert taking in arias from Bach and Scarlatti cantatas as well as two very different approaches to minimalism from Arvo Pärt and Ligeti. It was fitting, then, that the final piece – the new commission from Anna Clyne, This Lunar Beauty, should bring all these strands together.

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Anna Clyne photo by Javier Oddo

Setting the W.H. Auden poem of the same name, Clyne has written a piece of outstanding beauty. Its calling card is a distinctive melody that seems to be sourced from medieval England, but works it in a way of which the late 1960s British folk pioneers such as Fairport Convention, Steeleye Span or Pentangle would be entirely proud.

The repetitions of the tune, given in soprano Julia Doyle’s clear tones, were subtly varied by additions and subtractions to the instrumental texture, filling up with strings or paring back so the glitter of the harpsichord could be sensed on top. This Lunar Beauty left a strong emotional impression, using its forces sensitively in new music of rare quality and depth.

Before this, Doyle leant her clear tones to three varied arias from Bach Cantatas, with oboist Marios Argiros excelling in the obbligato to the aria Tief gebückt und voller Reue. We also heard Salvatore Sciarrino’s arrangement of two arias by Alessandro Scarlatti, the first of which had a striking accompaniment of muted strings without vibrato.

The two very different approaches to minimalism were fascinating. In Arvo Pärt’s Fratres time stood suspended as the string quartet’s theme, first heard in ghostly harmonics, gradually found body and soul before ebbing away into the distance. Ligeti’s Continuum froze time in a wholly different way, the solo harpsichord – brilliantly played by Maggie Cole – seemingly trapped in rapidly flashing strobes. Somehow, despite the hyperactive energy, this too found its own stillness.

A very fine concert, hopefully to be broadcast on the BBC in the future. In the meantime, have a listen to the audio below – and get yourselves over to listen to vocal works on Anna Clyne’s website, because this is a composer we want to hear a lot more of!

You can also hear her new Violin Concerto The Seamstress on the BBC iPlayer, performed by Jennifer Koh and the BBC Symphony Orchestra conducted by Sakari Oramo. The concert is available until 14 February 2016

Wigmore Mondays – Dejan Lazić plays Haydn, Shostakovich, Schumann and his own work

dejan-lazic

Dejan Lazić (piano) plays a concert of Haydn, Shostakovich, Schumann and his own Istrian Dances

Wigmore Hall, London; Monday, 18 January 2016

written by Ben Hogwood

Audio (open in a new window)

http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b06vrk8d

Available until 17 February

What’s the music?

Haydn – Piano Sonata in E flat major, Hob.XVI:52 (1794) (20 minutes)

Shostakovich – 3 Fantastic Dances Op.5 (1922) (4 minutes)

Schumann – Waldszenen Op.82 (1849) (23 minutes)

Lazić – 3 Istrian Dances Op.15a (2008) (4 minutes)

Spotify

If you cannot hear the broadcast then this attached playlist covers almost all of the repertoire. Dejan Lazić has already recorded the Haydn and Schumann, while the Shostakovich is included in a recording by Vladimir Ashkenazy:

About the music

Haydn’s late Piano Sonata in E flat (given no.52 in the catalogue by the compiler Hoboken) is one of his grandest statements for the keyboard, an imposing piece that is often regarded as having a scope well beyond the solo instrument. It has Haydn’s characteristic wit but also an impressive stature.

By complete contrast the young Shostakovich – just fourteen at the time of writing the 3 Fantastic Dances – was just striking out, and you can sense him champing at the bit in these pieces. All three last under five minutes but are great fun.

Schumann was a great writer of character pieces for the piano, and Waldszenen (Forest Scenes) is one of the finest examples of his ability to paint portraits in relatively short periods of time. A group of nine pieces, these are often played with very little in the way of a break between them, and are often understated but without losing any intensity. Originally they were headed by poetic quotations, but the shadowy set of pieces was instead published without these and were given headings instead.

Finally Lazić himself gets in on the act, his 3 Istrian Dances rather similar to the solo piano works of Bartók in their reworking of national themes. Istria is a peninsula in the Adriatic Sea, shared by Croatia, Italy and Slovenia.

Performance verdict

Arcana was not present at the Wigmore Hall on this occasion, so this appraisal was done via the BBC iPlayer. Even from that it is quite clear not just what an accomplished pianist Lazić is, but that he has a strong sense of national identity in his compositions. In the lively Istrian Dances this takes him close to the sound world of Bartók, and this energetic performance proved an invigorating final number in the concert.

Lazić clearly has affection for the works of Haydn, and although some of his phrasing was quite mannered – nothing wrong with that, but not necessarily to everyone’s taste! – his technical control was superb, and some of the rapid passagework Haydn assigns to the right hand was thrown off with aplomb. Meanwhile the slow movement of the E flat sonata had a real depth of feeling.

His Schumann was excellent, very strongly characterised and recognising the intimacy found in a lot of these short pieces, the comfort of the forest sometimes spilling over into claustrophobia. Meanwhile the impudent Shostakovich was pure fun, the sound of a young composer flexing his muscles.

What should I listen out for?

Haydn

01:54 – a grand theme to start, anticipating Beethoven in its big scale. This is one of Haydn’s most substantial sonata themes. After an elaborate development, the first half of the movement is repeated from 4:06. Then from 6:22 Haydn takes the two main themes for a walk, running through some unexpectedly far-off keys until reaching home at 8:08.

10:12 – the slow movement starts in E major, the last key you would expect Haydn to use. But then this is Haydn, who likes to throw in a surprise or two to what ought to be conventional works! It is a thoughtful, intimate theme, too, one of his more profound slow movements for piano. Then at 13:09 Haydn moves the music into the minor key, and an unpredictable section based on the main tune, but before long we return to the opening material (14:16)

16:14 – a cheeky, stop-start last movement with repeated notes in the main tune. They sound like an over eager woodpecker or something similar! With typical wit Haydn develops these, making great use of silence in between some of his phrases and introducing some really difficult runs in the right hand. Again Haydn is adventurous in the rapid development section (from 18:46) until the witty theme makes a comeback (20:13)

Shostakovich

23:42 March – Allegretto – a thoughtful but quite carefree notion to this piece, and to the right hand especially, which becomes quite frivolous.

25:08 Waltz – Andantino – a relatively gentle start is misleading, as this piece turns out to be reckless and quite impetuous at times, making the listener jump!

26:32 – Polka – Allegretto – Shostakovich shows an early mastery of the piano, and despite pronounced influences from Chopin and Scriabin there is plenty of individuality to his style here too. Cheeky but meaningful.

Schumann

27:39 – Eintritt (Entry) – an endearing privacy immediately descends on Schumann’s music, beautifully written. The harmonies are open, and the melodies subtly restless, wandering for a while.

29:45 – Jäger auf der Lauer (Hunters on the lookout) – a furtive piece, hiding in the shadows initially, then becoming a lot bolder.

31:07 – Einsame Blumen (Lonely Flowers) – quite sparse, bring a melody and relatively economical accompaniment. It is a beautiful melody though, and has a strong yearning.

33:42 – Verrufene Stelle (Haunted Place) – the quietness of the piano is laced with tension, the scene far from comfortable. The music gets more animated but quickly retreats into its shell again, scarred by what it might have seen. There is a happier ending, mind, as the music moves to a major key and peace of mind.

37:51 – Freundliche Landschaft (Friendly Landscape) – a quickfire piece, happy go-lucky in these hands, relieved after the haunting has passed.

38:55 – Herberge (Wayside Inn) – the welcoming inn is a lively place in Schumann’s description, with a warm welcome, carrying on from the happy place above.

40:54 – Vogel als Prophet (Bird as Prophet) – a fascinating, mysterious piece that leaves a mark through its distinctive melodic profile. Its foreboding message hangs on the air.

43:58 – Jagdlied (Hunting Song) – an open air call to arms. Schumann wrote a lot of hunting songs for voice and piano and piano alone, but this one is reminiscent of Beethoven in its profile and the choice of E-flat major.

46:24 – Abschied (Farewell) – initially confident but immediately thoughtful, and the rest of the piece is relatively sombre and quietly moving.

Lazić

51:52 – an arresting call to arms in the first dance, with the notes in the right hand close together, creating crunchy dissonances.

The second dance is underway at 52:40 and is equally spiky, with quickfire shots from the right hand and powerful double notes in the left. At 53:39 a languid dance makes itself known and turns in on itself softly.

The third dance gets underway at 54:39 with highly distinctive rhythms, detached and tumbling down the keyboard at times before finishing suddenly at 55:24.

Encore

56:43 – the encore is the finale of one of Haydn’s best-loved Piano Sonatas, in C major (published as HXVI:50). You can sense the composer thumbing his nose at the audience in his witty asides and false approaches to the ending, which finally arrives at 58:53.

Further listening

Having mentioned Bartók earlier it would be churlish not to include something of his for solo piano, so attached to the bottom of the concert playlist you will find the 3 Rondos, played by Zoltan Kocsis. Alternatively you could try a whole set of Mazurkas by the Polish composer Karel Szymanowski, on the album below:

In concert – Benjamin Baker and Daniel Lebhardt @ St James’s Piccadilly, London

benjamin-baker

Benjamin Baker (violin, above), Daniel Lebhardt (piano), St James’s Church, Piccadilly, 18 January 2016

Reviewed by Ben Hogwood

Britten – Suite for violin and piano, Op.6 (1934-35)

Elgar – Sonata for violin and piano in E minor, Op.82 (1918)

Violinist Benjamin Baker and pianist Daniel Lebhardt are both promising musicians in their twenties, and here they performed an attractive pairing of the young Britten and the ageing Elgar. This was part of the Richard Carne Trust Series, a lunchtime concert given in the generously lit, spacious surrounds of St James’s Piccadilly, a fine Christopher Wren church.

Britten was a relatively serious child, and although the Suite for violin and piano is an early work, completed in his early twenties, it has the mark of a composer already sure of himself in form, melody and writing for the violin. Britten still has fun through a number of dance forms, though, and after a bold as brass introduction Baker and Lebhardt strode confidently through a March, well balanced and intuitively finding the flexibility in Britten’s rhythms.

This togetherness was even more apparent in a dramatic Moto perpetuo, a nervy piece of writing, but this fraught mood dissipated in the bell-like chords with which Lebhardt began the Lullaby. Finally the Waltz, a brazen but very enjoyable affair where the performers could perhaps have been more exuberant, but where they took some very tasteful liberties with the rhythm, as Britten instructs in the score.

Elgar’s Violin Sonata was a different story, darkly passionate in the intial outpouring of feeling in its first movement but contrasted with a ghostly quieter section that even on a cold January lunchtime sent a shiver down the spine. Elgar is fiercely lyrical in the outer movements of this work, and Baker did well to project this over an equally active piano part. The two found the grace of the Romance, where it felt as though they were dancers in hold, charming with slow steps but occasionally drifting apart.

Elgar’s determination returned in the finale, the tune consistently putting its head above that of the piano and achieving a well-won victory by the end. The two showed great understanding of the older man’s music, a fine interpretation that reminded me this piece was one of Nigel Kennedy’s earliest recordings. Baker and Lebhardt, then, have followed in illustrious footsteps!

Wigmore Mondays – Pavel Kolesnikov plays Debussy

pavel-kolesnikov

Pavel Kolesnikov (piano) plays Debussy’s first book of Préludes

Wigmore Hall, London

Monday, 11 January 2016

written by Ben Hogwood

Audio (open in a new window)

http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b06tx85v

Available until 10 February

What’s the music?

Debussy (1862-1918): Préludes, Book 1 (1909-1910); L’isle joyeuse (1904)

Spotify

Pavel Kolesnikov has not yet recorded any of this repertoire, but a reproduction of his program using available versions can be accessed below, for listeners who cannot hear the BBC broadcast:

About the music

Debussy wrote 24 Préludes for piano, collected in two books but did not approach them in the same way as Chopin, who wrote one in each key. Instead he looked for character pieces, and the first book of Préludes are a fine example of what is often called the composer’s ‘impressionist’ style. By that we mean Debussy would often shade his music in a form that matches the paintings of artists such as Monet and Renoir, leaving them less defined.

impression-sunrise

Impression: Sunrise by Claude Monet (1872)

Perhaps because he wanted the listener to form their own pictures in their mind’s eye, Debussy left the title of each Prélude until the end of the piece – and even then was not at all conclusive in his naming. La cathédrale engloutie (The submerged cathedral), Ce qu’a vu le vent d’ouest (What the West Wind has seen), Danseuses de Delphes (Dancers of Delphi) – all are subject matters that need an active imagination to complete the picture.

L’isle joyeuse is a little more defined but not much, being a homage to Jersey, where Debussy holidayed with his new love in the summer of 1904.

These pieces make great technical demands on the pianist but also allow freedom of interpretation, both for player and listener.

Performance verdict

Having already established a reputation as a Debussy interpreter in his Wigmore Hall debut in 2014, BBC New Generation artist Pavel Kolesnikov returned to dazzle with more of the composer’s music.

Yet his approach was not obviously virtuosic, and he often took sensitive liberties with his tempo choices in the Préludes, drawing out the slow pieces especially effectively. These approaches were shown to be completely valid, setting an atmosphere of quiet intensity where I found myself subconsciously leaning forward on several occasions, literally hanging on Kolesnikov’s next note.

Les collines d’Anacapri (The Hills of Anacapri) was especially convincing, as was a totally unhurried Des pas sur la neige (Footsteps in the Snow). La danze de Puck was brilliantly done, an irresistible glint in the jester’s eye, while the stumbling rhythm of Minstrels was expertly controlled. Kolesnikov opened up the detail of Debussy’s inner part writing but never at the expense of his overall impression of each piece, and in L’isle joyeuse this led to painstakingly produced trills, part of an incredibly secure performance that still created a vivid picture of the island.

Full marks to the pianist, too, for overcoming the considerable distraction of latecomers arriving directly in his eye line after a poised account of Danseuses de Delphes. All that was required was a pertinent pause, and he was back in the zone.

What should I listen out for?

1:35 – Danseuses de Delphes (Dancers of Delphi) – immediately a sultry atmosphere is cast, the slow moving music rather mysterious but at the same time oddly enchanting. The block chords create an essence of calm.

There is then a pause while the latecomers are admitted…before…

5:41 – Voiles (Veils) – if anything the heady atmosphere is heightened by this deeply intimate impression, with suggestively chromatic lines in the right hand over a sustained held note in the left. The boundaries are blurred here, the ‘impressionism’ all too evident.

9:31 – Le vent dans la plaine (The Wind in the Plain) – a blustery outlook is set by the left hand oscillations, though this piece proves just as elusive as the wind. Debussy once again uses melodies in a ‘pentatonic’ form (if you played C-Eb-F-G-Bb ascending on the piano those are the notes of the pentatonic scale). Sudden gusts of wind threaten to knock the music off course but it stays true to form, just.

11:47 – Les sons et les parfums tournent dans l’air du soir (The sounds and fragrances swirl through the evening air) This is an enchanted piece, and indeed is heavily perfumed, as though at the end of a very hot summer’s day. The sustain on the piano means notes can blur together in the listeners’ mind, but there is still a distinct four note theme heard at the start. Kolesnikov really draws out the tension at the end of this piece.

16:20 – Les collines d’Anacapri (The Hills of Anacapri) After a short, nervy start this piece bursts from its cover, with melodies exchanged between the top and bottom of the piano, with sustained but energetic chords in the middle. Then the music gradually ascends to a thrilling end which seems to be in mid-air, with a massive set of five notes high up on the piano at 19:09.

19:21 – Des pas sur la neige (Footsteps in the Snow) Debussy paints some incredibly vivid images on the piano, and the depiction of snow here is cold in the extreme! The quiet dynamic aids this, and the very slow tempo, though the melody does have a forlorn nature, as though in memorial or loss.

24:36 – Ce qu’a vu le vent d’ouest (What the West Wind has seen) – again Debussy mobilises the piano to portray the unpredictable gusts of the West Wind, through suddenly loud figures in the right hand and rumblings in the bass. Soon we hear crashing octaves high in the right hand, then a rush of notes, leading to a snappy end at 28:21.

28:23 – La fille aux cheveux de lin (The Girl with the Flaxen Hair) – one of Debussy’s best-loved pieces, this charming portrait uses the pentatonic scale as a basis for its melody (see above) – which sounds rather folk-like in nature. It is an affectionate picture.

30:38 – La sérénade interrompue (Interrupted Serenade) – from simplicity it’s back to a stop-start affair, as though Debussy were portraying the wind again. The whole piece seems to have a short attention span, moving through its thoughts very quickly as though on edge, but ends quietly.

33:13 – La cathédrale engloutie (The Submerged Cathedral) – one of the most famous Préludes, and certainly one of the most mysterious, with blurred imagery in the sustained left hand notes of the piano and a clear melody in the right hand. It is based on an ancient Breton myth in which a cathedral, submerged underwater off the coast of the Island of Ys, rises up from the sea on clear mornings when the water is transparent. Debussy catches the shimmering water as well as the ghostly outlines of the building – and there are suggestions of plainchant too. Eventually a massive toll of bells is reached (35:38) There is some magical quiet playing when this music reappears at 38:26.

39:49 – La danse de Puck (Puck’s Dance) – pure impudence in this piece of music, darting about elusively and never sitting still anywhere. There are some cheeky melodies but also some brief and profound asides.

42:31 – Minstrels – another stop start piece, but one where the melody is very clearly defined. It is as though the performers are slightly drunk and moving from side to side! After several runs at getting a long-lasting theme, the piece ends crisply and emphatically at 44:52.

45:34 – L’isle joyeuse – this character piece starts with extended trills in the right hand, creating a watery atmosphere but also one with latent energy. By 47:26 the open-air mood has been set and we hear another distinctive melody at 47:32. From 49:44 the music takes on the character of a march, becoming faster and louder until a final joyous theme at 50:15. The piece ends on the lowest end of the piano at 50:56.

Encore

52:08 For an encore Pavel Kolesnikov goes back two centuries to give Debussy’s compatriot – and one of his greatest influences – Jean-Philippe Rameau. The piece in question is L’Egyptienne, from the Nouvelles suites de pièces de clavecin (New Suites of Harpsichord Pieces) Suite in G major.

Further listening

A natural next port of call for listening is the second book of the Préludes, for they follow on naturally from the first. On this album the French pianist Pierre-Laurent Aimard plays both books:

Review – James Ehnes and Andrew Armstrong play Bartók at the Wigmore Hall

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Arcana begins its coverage of Béla Bartók (above) for 2016 with Richard Whitehouse reviewing a concert of the composer’s works for violin and piano, part of the Chamber Music series taking place at Wigmore Hall this year.

Wigmore Hall, Sunday 10 January 2016

Bartók: Rhapsody No.2 (1928); Solo Violin Sonata (1944), Sonatina (1925) (arr. Gertler); Violin Sonata No.1 (1921)

ehnes-armstrongJames Ehnes and Andrew Armstrong © BBC

Bartók’s chamber music with violin fits neatly into two recitals, James Ehnes returning to Wigmore Hall tonight for the second of these. He and pianist Andrew Armstrong began with the Second Rhapsody, in which they found persuasive accommodation between the music’s folk-derived essence; its combative alternation of mood and pacing, or its notably subtle thematic interplay: these aspects being governed by the player, Zoltán Székely, for which it was written and which here complemented each other perfectly in aim and intent.

While it has never been short of advocates since Yehudi Menuhin blazed a trail, the Sonata for Solo Violin is still undervalued in the context of Bartók’s later output. In part this is through its idiosyncratic handling of procedures deriving from the Baroque in general and Bach in particular. This can be observed in the first movement’s interweaving of chaconne and sonata elements, the second movement’s opening-out of its initial fugue to incorporate disparate processes, then the interplay of dynamism and reflection in the closing Presto. Such qualities were brought out in an interpretation audibly acknowledging this work as a harbinger of music to come, though the absence of quarter-tones in the finale underplayed the movement’s astringency.

The second half began with a transcription of the Sonatina by Endre Gertler, resulting in a brief yet perfectly poised piece whose three movements emerge with marginally greater presence than in the piano original, while not any the less characteristic of its composer.

The two violin sonatas (written for Jelly d’Arányi, though neither was in fact premiered by her) are significant in marking off decisive periods within their composer’s output. The First Sonata, its three movements cast on an imposing and even heroic scale, brings to a head those expressionist tendencies of the previous decade yet, for all its leanings towards atonality, is centred on chromatic and whole-tone harmonies. Ehnes had the measure of the fractured design of the opening Allegro appassionato, the stark thematic elements pulled apart rather than being brought together over its course, and found anxious introspection in the Adagio – not least the funereal overtones of its central section. The final Allegro tempered its headlong rush with lyrical asides, re-establishing a sense of tonal ‘destination’ prior to the brutally decisive coda. Armstrong tackled the cruelly exacting piano part with notable lack of inhibition and matched Ehnes’ headlong tempo for the finale through to those coruscating climactic bars.

A fine showing for a work which has only latterly come into its own in terms of performance. Ehnes and Armstrong returned for the Romanian Folk Dances (1926), Székely’s transcription of which stays relatively close to the piano original without sacrificing the slightest degree of virtuosity or panache. That would describe this evening overall, confirming Bartók as master of his craft and a reminder of his stature in the context of earlier twentieth century music: a stature that is happily being accorded its due at the Wigmore this season.

You can listen to the works in this concert on the Spotify playlist below, using versions by Yehudo Menuhin where possible: