Proms premiere – Gary Carpenter: Dadaville

gary-carpenter

BBC Symphony Orchestra / Sakari Oramo (Prom 1)

Duration: 7 minutes

Watch here (Dadaville begins at 2:29)

Dadaville begins at 11:30

What’s the story behind the piece?

Dadaville c.1924 Max Ernst 1891-1976 Purchased 1983 http://www.tate.org.uk/art/work/T03707

Dadaville c.1924 Max Ernst 1891-1976 Purchased 1983 http://www.tate.org.uk/art/work/T03707

Dadaville is a musical response to the painted relief by Max Ernst shown above. What appears to be an iron wall in the imposing structure is actually made of cork, flimsy enough to be kept behind glass.

Carpenter bases his piece on the notes D – A – as in the first two letters of the painting’s name – and uses the nine letters of the word as the basis for the structure of the piece.

The tuba takes a starring role, allocated a nine bar bass line in the middle that the orchestra build on comprehensively, while towards the end of its 180 bars (20×9!) there is a reference to Beethoven’s Symphony no.9.

Did you know?

Gary was the Associate Musical Director on the film The Wicker Man. Among the many instruments he played during the recording of the film are piano, recorders, ocarina, fife and the Nordic lyre. You can read his recollections of recording here

Initial verdict

A piece obviously composed with the First Night in mind, especially if the surprise pyrotechnics at the end were anything to go by! Yet Carpenter largely succeeded in his musical sketch of Max Ernst’s Dadaville, with a piece that was both fragile and robust – just like the painted relief itself.

It was particularly good to see the tuba and bass clarinet given starring roles, making use of a swinging bass line of jazzy syncopations, while some of the string lines recalled Debussy and, at the opening, Britten.

Second hearing

There is an air of tension at the beginning of this piece in the cold string lines, but soon the energy begins to be released. The orchestral textures are crisp and clear.

The piece really acquires its direction once the tuba and bass clarinet are called into action from 6:55, and this low bass line generates the energy for the rest of the piece, which really starts to swing, all the while leading towards the fireworks at the finish. It completes a score with an impressive array of sounds and an appealing, uplifting mood.

Where can I hear more?

From Gary’s Soundcloud page, here is his Saxophone Quartet The North:

Steven Kovacevich at 75 – Berg and Schubert

Steven Kovacevich celebrates his upcoming 75th birthday with sonatas by Berg and Schubert at the Wigmore Hall

stephen-kovacevich

Steven Kovacevich (piano) – Wigmore Hall, London, live on BBC Radio 3, 13 July 2015

Listening link (opens in a new window):

http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b061fqzz

on the iPlayer until 12 August

Spotify

In case you cannot hear the broadcast, here is a Spotify playlist of the music in this concert. Steven Kovacevich has recorded the Schubert but it does not appear to be available on Spotify, so is included here in a leading recording by Maurizio Pollini. The Berg, which he has not recorded, is performed by Mitsuko Uchida:

What’s the music?

Berg: Piano Sonata, Op.1 (1908) (10 minutes)

Schubert: Piano Sonata in A major, published as D959 (1828) (37 minutes)

What about the music?

Steven Kovacevich describes the Berg Piano Sonata as music ‘drawn toward the distant future but still tied to the immediate past’. When he finished the first movement of what he thought would be a larger work in 1908, his teacher and mentor Schoenberg encouraged him that if he had said all he needed to say musically, there was no need to carry on. It is a landmark piece as music begins to break with conventional tonality.

While the 22-year old Berg was starting out, the 30-year old Schubert was signing off. Aware that he had not long to live, the gravely ill composer completed a trio of three massive piano sonatas, some of the biggest works ever written for the instrument and still to this day some of the most remarkable music you can hear on the piano. The second of the three in A major is a remarkable piece, contrasting passages of serenity and acceptance with sudden outbursts of temper – as in the second movement, initially slow but unable to contain itself fully. These are pieces that keep on giving in their remarkable construction and memorable melodies.

Performance verdict

The insights Steven Kovacevich has given into piano music over the last 50 years cannot be underestimated, and the sheer weight of experience he brings with him is the result of a lifetime spent performing at the very highest level.

It is this experience that shines through, especially in a reading of the Schubert sonata that is not without its problems. I would have to digress for a moment and ask if there are many 75-year olds who could play such a piece without a score, and think there are very few. Small wonder, then, that Kovacevich has what seems to be a memory lapse in the final movement, and there are a number of minor slips elsewhere. These are still very much worth persevering with because his portrayal of the unfolding drama in the Schubert is special indeed – and in the second movement in any case it is as though Schubert writes in a lot of ‘wrong’ notes.

What should I listen out for?

Berg

2:00 – one of the most intriguing beginnings to a composer’s published output is surely the quizzical opening notes of the Berg sonata, which end up in its supposed ‘home key’ of B minor, but only by asking far more questions than they answer. There is an immediate impression of a new world forming, and the harmonic outlook is constantly changing in music of great density.

The opening theme, however – the first three notes, at least – is distinctive enough to be felt in the development it receives afterwards. The music builds to a weighty climax at 7:51, then scales the heights at 10:42. Berg writes in a single paragraph, the music subsiding to the quiet, thoughtful finish.

Schubert

14:30 – the opening of the sonata is thoroughly positive, a call to arms – though Stephen Kovacevich is slightly understated in this performance. There is a serenity and intimacy that sets the tone for much of the piece.

15:57 – Schubert’s second theme, a lovely moment of introspection but also restfulness. Barely a minute later however there is a lot more audible strife, and things become fraught – until the return of this second theme at 17:41. A crunching chord at 18:07 prepares us for…

18:15 – Kovacevich repeats the movement so far (18:11) as instructed by Schubert. This helps balance the structure of the whole first movement.

23:53 – a return to the material that dominated the opening exchanges – and then, after a protracted and angst-ridden piece, the second theme and a peaceful close at 28:40.

28:54 – the slow movement begins. As with Beethoven, time seems to stand still in Schubert’s late sonatas, and his thoughts are almost of another world. The music here is very subdued but not by any means hopeless.

31:01 – the right hand seems to develop a mind of its own, becoming faster and faster. In response the music moves to distant and rather twisted harmonies – as Kovacevich notes, sounding a prophetic note towards the music of Liszt here. Feelings of anger and frustration come to the boil. The music collapses in something of a heap, exhausted at the end.

35:07 – the Scherzo, a piece of music that sounds like a feather being blown around by the wind. The detached delivery from Kovacevich’s right hand is subtly mischievous.

37:14 – the contrasting trio section begins, but is a short diversion from the main theme itself, which returns again in humour at 38:24.

39:28 – Kovacevich runs straight into the fluid finale but stops himself at 41:12. Then he picks up again at 41:26. To listen to this movement in full it is recommended to forward to…

51:16 – where after applause Kovacevich very graciously gives a re-run of the finale. Listening carefully to the full theme, there is a similarity between this and Beethoven’s ‘Ode to Joy’ theme from the Choral Symphony. It is in the main beautifully played, with a magical moment at 57:01 when we hear the theme in F sharp major, a fair way from home! At 1:01:12, however, Schubert arrives at his destination.

Further listening

A natural port of call from the Berg Piano Sonata is Schoenberg’s early piano works, which also dice with removing tonality altogether. These are the quite substantial Three Piano Pieces of 1909 and the tiny sketches that make up the Six Little Piano Pieces. Then to complement the Schubert we have the small but perfectly formed late Allegretto in C minor and three more beefy piano pieces from the last year of the composer’s life, written in a similar vein to the famous Impromptus. Here they are, all played by Maurizio Pollini and tagged on to the end of the concert playlist:

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Jean-Guihen Queyras – Bach and Britten at the Wigmore Hall

Jean-Guihen Queyras plays works for solo cello by J.S. Bach and Benjamin Britten at the Wigmore Hall

jean-guihen-queyras

Jean-Guihen Queyras (cello) – Wigmore Hall, London, live on BBC Radio 3, 6 July 2015

Listening link (opens in a new window):

http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b060zmjg

on the iPlayer until 5 August

Spotify

In case you cannot hear the broadcast, here is a Spotify playlist of the music in this concert, in recordings made by Queyras for Harmonia Mundi:

What’s the music?

Britten: Solo Cello Suite no.1 (1964) (20 minutes)

J.S. Bach: Solo Cello Suite no.6 (c1724) (30 minutes)

What about the music?

The idea of a cello playing on its own was only fully cultivated in the twentieth century – when Pablo Casals recorded the six Bach suites in the 1930s and they became part of the repertoire once again. Until then, unbelievably, they had lain dormant – but now they stand as arguably the most-played body of works for cello in existence. They are wonderfully flexible pieces, because the easiest parts of the suites can be played by budding amateurs. Generally, the higher the number of the suite, the more technically demanding they are.

Hence the Sixth and last suite in the set is extremely virtuosic. It is thought to have been written for a five-string instrument known as the violoncello piccolo, like the one in the picture below:

violoncello-piccolo

The Sixth is the longest of the suites, and often features multiple stopping – i.e. more than one note played at once. Because the fifth string of the violoncello piccolo would have been a higher one (an ‘E’ above the highest cello string of ‘A’) the suite is unusual for its treble-rich sound.

Britten stole into the world of the solo cello by way of his dear friend Mstislav Rostropovich, who threw down the gauntlet to him to write a number of compositions for the instrument. In taking on writing for the solo cello he was one of the first since Bach to take it on in a solo capacity – Zoltán Kodály and Max Reger being the others.

Britten made an explicit homage to Bach’s works in the use of different dance forms, and like the elder composer he often wrote out multiple stopping, using the confines of the instrument to somehow write independent parts for it. These can be heard especially as the second movement Fuga takes shape.

Britten was to write another two suites for solo cello, for it was clearly an instrument that pricked his compositional interest.

Performance verdict

If ever proof were needed that Bach can make you happy, Jean-Guihen Queyras supplied it handsomely in this wonderful hour of music. Each of the six movements making up the Sixth Cello Suite danced persuasively, although in the slower Allemande and Sarabande dances Queyras achieved a wonderful, all-encompassing peace. Technically he was superb – this is far from easy music to play in public – with rock solid intonation and an easy way that endeared him to his audience.

The Britten made a good contrast, for this is a very serious piece, with inner strife that Queyras built perceptibly as the final flurry of notes grew closer. Here he was careful to bring out Britten’s part writing for the instrument, so that on occasion it felt as though there were many more instruments than just one in the room. The cello’s probing tone still brought each melody to the front, while the technical effects Britten uses to enhance the impact of the piece were brilliantly executed.

What should I listen out for?

Britten

1:41 – the Canto primo, where the cello proclaims the theme majestically. Immediately you can hear Britten’s use of multiple stopping, which is where the cello plays chords from several strings at once. This moves into…

3:39 – the Fuga begins. It seems very unlikely that a fugue could work on a cello but it somehow does – when at 3:52 the next entry of the tune comes in, meaning several parts can exist simultaneously. The ear is led this way and that, as though two or even three cellos are playing. From hear the mood darkens to…

7:42 – the Lamento, which starts with a broad intonation, like a solo singer. Britten wrote so many of his instrumental pieces as though they are vocal.

10:07 – the Canto Secondo. In response to the Lamento the cello gives a subdued account of the Canto theme, appearing lost in thought.

11:07 – Serenata. Marked Allegretto pizzicato (quite fast but with the strings plucked) this is a more playful homage to the second movement of Debussy’s Cello Sonata, which Britten and Rostropovich recorded together in 1961.

13:33 – a movement marked as Marcia – where Britten achieves ghostly sounds firstly through the use of harmonics, where the left hand rests very lightly on the string, and then through the wood of the bow banging on the string (14:14). The mood is now agitated.

16:40 – from the murky depths of the cello we hear the solemn Canto terzo, another variant of the tune from the start. The music becomes gradually more forceful, moving into…

18:29 – the Bordone begins – an unusually titled movement that features a drone on the note ‘D’ – mostly from the open string. Around it a cluster of notes can be heard, while the left hand plucks the string absently. Again it sounds like there are two or three instruments playing, such is the density of Britten’s music.

21:39 – the final section, marked Moto perpetuo – and now the cello sounds like a group of excited insects, the melody fluttering around restlessly. At 23:02 the main tune returns but sounds breathless in this company, as it does until the end – which is deliberately distorted and angry.

J.S. Bach

27:08 – the expansive Prelude, rooted in D major by frequent sounding of the open ‘D’ string, before gradually opening out. Bach’s main tune returns at a lower pitch (‘G’) at 29:33 – but then the music climbs to a peak at 30:28.

32:16 – the slow Allemande dance begins. This is the longest single movement in all of Bach’s music for solo cello, and it resembles a religious contemplation. Time really does seem to stand still as the cello’s music unwinds with a great inevitability. When he repeats the first section (from 33:57) Queyras plays much quieter.

40:34 – the triple-time Courante dance, a lively affair that finds the cello jumping around its range.

44:31 – the slow, serene Sarabande – which inhabits a similar world to the earlier Allemande. It requires clarity on the part of the cellist, who is playing high chords for much of the sequence, but when played well it is very beautiful, as here.

49:46 – a lightness of touch runs through the two Gavottes. The first of these uses a lot of multiple stopping, while the second (beginning at 51:25) is more purposeful and works its way into a bit of a frenzy over a drone. The first Gavotte is repeated at 52:34.

53:25 – the last of the dances, a Gigue – again in triple time. This has a rustic feel and keeps the wide open sound Bach has used throughout the suite, which reaches a thoroughly uplifting finish at 57:33.

Further listening

If the sound of the cello on its own appeals, the rest of the Bach and Britten suites are wholeheartedly recommended. In the Britten, one of many fine recordings comes from Norwegian cellist Truls Mørk, made for Virgin Classics. It can be heard on Spotify here:

In the Bach works interpretations are many and varied, so it is advisable to try a number of different sources. One of the earlier classic recordings that is always rewarding comes from the French cellist Pierre Fournier, made for Deutsche Grammophon’s side label Archiv Produktion in 1960. Here it is on Spotify:

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Ilya Gringolts and Ashley Wass – Debussy and Korngold at the Wigmore Hall

A beginning and an end – Debussy and Korngold Violin Sonatas at the Wigmore Hall

ilya-gringolts-ashley-wass

Ilya Gringolts (violin), Ashley Wass (piano) – Wigmore Hall, London, live on BBC Radio 3, 29 June 2015

Listening link (opens in a new window):

http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b060brzw

on the iPlayer until 28 July

Spotify

In case you cannot hear the broadcast, here is a Spotify playlist of the music in this concert (which Gringolts and Wass have not yet recorded):

What’s the music?

Debussy: Violin Sonata (1917) (12 minutes)

Korngold: Violin Sonata (1912) (42 minutes)

What about the music?

Perhaps surprisingly, the violin sonata was one of the main forms in use for chamber music in the first few decades of the twentieth century. Perhaps aware that composers such as Mozart, Beethoven, Brahms and Schumann had mastered the form impressively, others took up the challenge as the new century began its musical breakaway. Ravel, Vaughan Williams, Fauré and Walton – these and more were authors of one or more sonata for violin and piano. Meanwhile an elderly Debussy and child prodigy Korngold offered their own take on the form within four years of each other.

The composers could not have been more different in their circumstances or approach. Debussy was fading fast due to cancer, and the Violin Sonata – a compact yet concentrated piece – was his final published work, meaning we would not get to see the last three sonatas of his projected six-part series. Those that remained – the Sonata for flute, viola and harp, the Cello Sonata and the Violin Sonata – are rightly held in high regard.

Korngold, meanwhile, was just into his teens, somehow with an orchestral work under his belt at the outrageously young age of twelve. This sonata, only three years later, was written just after he had been learning with Zemlinsky, who taught Berg and Schoenberg. It was completed for no less a pair than violinist Carl Flesch and pianist Artur Schnabel. It is an imposing work, clocking in at over forty minutes, and is full of big, romantic gestures and rich, chromatic harmony. It also contains melodic pointers towards the much shorter Violin Concerto he was to complete in 1945.

Performance verdict

A fascinating double act, this – chalk and cheese, but the two works complementing each other perfectly as they represent two centres of musical development in Europe at the start of the century.

Debussy, representing Paris, is by far the more concentrated, and both performers are careful not to be too outrageous with the sudden loud bits, nor too restrained in the quiet moments. Technically very sound, Gringolts has a consistently appealing tone, and the shading from Ashley Wass’s colourful piano part brings out the detail.

The Korngold could not be more different – more than three times the length, and focussing in on Vienna with its rich musical language, its big gestures and its long, florid tunes. With this we hear something of what composers like Zemlinsky (his teacher) and Schoenberg (in his early works) were up to.

Both performers give this their all, and the balance between singing violin and quasi-orchestral piano is impeccably observed, particularly in the heavy set second movement. Gringolts really sings in the more lyrical passages – notably the trio of the second movement – and the whole performance stands as a most impressive achievement, with its most concentrated moment right at the end.

What should I listen out for?

Debussy

1:42 – the first of three short movements in this sonata, notable for its brief but intense ideas, and a tendency to go from private thoughts to sudden outbursts. The use of chromatic harmony makes the music a bit wary at times, before it signs off quickly and emphatically.

6:01 – Gringolts and Wass waste no time in moving straight into the second movement, which is once again elusive. Several ideas sound instinctive, almost improvised, and perhaps indicate the composer’s restless move. Debussy makes a very distinctive sound when the two instruments play the same tune at 7:56. The performers lead straight into…

10:13 – the final movement, which moves swiftly into a memory of the main tune from the first. Again the violin and piano spar with each other, sometimes playfully, and sometimes with brief aggression that Debussy lets loose. The end, when it comes, is high-spirited.

Korngold

16:02 – this massive work begins quite innocuously, with a movement marked ‘ben moderato, ma con passione’ (a moderate tempo, with passion). Then it really gets going, as though the young composer is straining at the leash. The piano part is expansive and wide ranging, as though Korngold has an orchestral sound in his head.

All the opening thoughts head for a massive climax point at 21:43, after which point the music subsides a bit, though the rich, lyrical melodies continue to pour from the violin.

26:39 – the second movement, a scherzo, reveals two very different musical strands. The first is jumpy, with an angular line, both players are performing gymnastics as they leap up high and crouch down low. Then at 27:12 there is a sly melody that slips down on the violin, with a languid piano line for company. This is at odds with most of the movement though, as the high voltage musical exchanges continue – with the sly melody now heard at full volume (around 29:10).

Then at 31:12 the contrasting ‘trio’ begins, with a beautiful and graceful melody from the violin and flowing piano. This reverie is broken at 33:56 by the return of the jumpy opening material, and around 35:30 we hear some pretty savage chords from the piano, leading to the end at 37:49

38:14 – the slow movement, and a time for a little respite. Korngold once again writes a tune with some unusual contours to it, but one that suits the singing tone of the violin. From 40:55 the violin uses a mute briefly, the sound constricted and quite ghostly, but by the time we reach 43:00 there are forceful and passionate thoughts once again – leading to the soaring violin of 45:58. After that it effectively collapses in a heap!

46:56 – quite an elusive tune from the violin to begin the finale, wandering amiably. Gradually the music picks up momentum and Korngold introduces more dialogue between the instruments, culminating at 51:09 when a fugue starts in the piano left hand, picked up by the violin at 51:14. Again the lines become more angular – but then at 52:20 calm prevails, and a beautiful coda begins. Both violin and piano are serene, the passion of the preceding forty minutes or so summed up in the soft but heartfelt closing pages, finishing at 55:06.

Further listening

If you want further music for violin and piano, a nice calling point from the Debussy is the Violin Sonata no.1 by fellow French composer Fauré:

If however it’s more Korngold that you want the album below offers you a way in to The Sea Hawk, one of his finest film scores – while the one below that will introduce you to the substantial Symphony in F sharp, an increasingly popular orchestral work.

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Ailish Tynan and James Baillieu – French Song at the Wigmore Hall

French Song at the Wigmore Hall

ailish-tynan

Ailish Tynan (soprano), James Baillieu (piano) – Wigmore Hall, London, live on BBC Radio 3, 22 June 2015

Listening link (opens in a new window):

http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b05zh7pr

on the iPlayer until 21 July

Spotify

In case you cannot hear the broadcast, I have put together a Spotify playlist of most of the music in this concert, including recordings the artists have made where possible. The playlist can be found below:

What’s the music?

Hahn: Fêtes galantes; En sourdine; A Chloris (various) (9 minutes)

Poulenc: La courte paille (1960) (11 minutes)

Poulenc: Trois poèmes de Louise de Vilmorin (1937) (7 minutes)

Hahn: Venezia – Chansons en dialecte vénitien (1901) (16 minutes)

What about the music?

There is something rather special about a recital of French songs, and this intriguing program brings together one of its best exponents – the soprano Ailish Tynan – and one of the best up and coming accompanists, pianist James Baillieu. Of course to call him an ‘accompanist’ recognises just how important that role is, setting the tone and providing the colour.

The two composers here are well matched, despite their very different styles of writing. Reynaldo Hahn, born in Venezuela but moving to Paris when three years old, is best known for his songs, especially settings of Victor Hugo and Paul Verlaine. The BBC Radio 3 announcer Sara Mohr-Pietsch sums up the songs in the first trio as ‘a group of young men serenading their beloveds, the piano imitating a mandolin’ (Fêtes galantes), ‘a muted nocturnal love song’ (En sourdine) and ‘a love poem set with a loving nod to Bach (A Chloris). In contrast the cycle of five songs Venezia glorifies the gondoliers in the city, setting it as ‘the elegant playground of the rich and famous’, in Graham Johnson’s words.

Francis Poulenc, meanwhile, is completely different, writing with economy but also with an appealing brashness and humour that mean he gets away with some pretty outrageous settings. There are touching moments too, though, and in his last song cycle La coute paille (The short straw) he sets seven nonsense rhymes, a present for realised in music for the singer Denise Duval, so that she could sing them to her young boy. The simplicity of Poulenc’s musical language is perfectly suited to the text.

Complementing this is a short mini-cycle of poems set in 1937 to the poetry of another good friend, Louise de Vilmorin.

Performance verdict

Ailish Tynan is in her element in this sort of program, and the combination of Poulenc with Hahn is not one to miss. Poulenc can never resist humour in his songs and Tynan makes it her mission to seek it out, from the zany and oddball moments of La coute paille to the heady eroticism of his three de Vilmorin settings.

The performance of Venezia is glorious, and even listening on the radio you can tell just how much fun she gets from Che pecà. Before then however there are the heady heights of La barcheta, Tynan’s voice both flexible and incredibly well controlled.

James Baillieu’s setting of each scene is also carefully managed and vividly painted.

What should I listen out for?

Hahn

1:11 – Fêtes galantes A lively song, begun by the clang of the piano in the upper register, and a playful interplay between him and the singer, who has quite an unusual contour to the melodic line.

3:05 – En sourdine (Softly) A slower and much more languorous affair this, and it’s easy to imagine a hot and sultry evening where nobody is able to sleep. Verlaine’s text has something else in mind, reflected by Tynan’s wonderful higher note at 6’12” or thereabouts.

6:42 – À Chloris (To Chloris) the tread of the bass line and the profile are indeed similar to Bach, a kind of equivalent to his Sleepers Awake. Baillieu introduces the song with an admirable calm, before the rapturous entry of the singer. This rather wonderful song finishes softly at 10:08.

Poulenc

La courte paille (The short straw) – with words here

11:37 – Le sommeiil (Sleep) A light and graceful song to start the cycle – though there is a dark underside to it, as ‘sleep is on vacation’ and the mother is frustrated.

13:35 – Quelle aventure! (What an adventure!) This song trips along with outbursts in the higher register of the voice, reflecting the nonsense text of the flea pulling an elephant in a carriage. A surreal dream!

14:46 – La reine de cœur (The Queen of Hearts) This sleepy song depicts the enchantment of the queen, beckoning the listener into her castle.

16:40 – Ba, be, bi, bo, bu The nonsense is evident in the spiky piano part – depicting the cat who has put his boots on! – and in Tynan’s shrieks and whoops, brilliantly stage managed. It’s all over in a flash!

17:16 – Les anges musiciens (The musician angels) A more sombre and graceful affair, again suggesting the onset of sleep as the angels play Mozart on their harps

18:42 – Le carafon (The baby carafe) The alternation in the vocal part between swoops and gliding notes gives an indication of the surreal nature of the text.

20:01 – Lune d’Avril (April moon) Initially lost in thought, this final song of the cycle builds to an impressive climax

Trois poèmes de Louise de Vilmorin

23:45 – Le garçon de Liège (The boy of Liège) A fast moving and breathless song with plenty of ‘wrong’ notes in the piano part.

25:16 – Au-delà A colourful piano introduction alternating between two chords as the singer goes on a breathless voyage of self-examination.

26:43 – Aux officiers de la Garde Blanche (To the officers of the White Guard) A thoughtful mood runs through this song, which Graham Johnson notes to be unusual in Poulenc’s output for its contemplation.

Hahn

Ailish Tynan introduces this cycle as a portrayal of ‘sultry, steamy, sensual Venice – where young men lure you into gondolas’!

32:18 – Sopra l’acqua indormenzada (Asleep on the water) This song is notable for its high and clear sound from the soprano, as she entreats her subject to join her in the boat. As part of this she stylishly glides between notes, occasionally sliding between them (a technique known as ‘portamento’)

36:01 – La barcheta (The little boat) The boat itself is home to simmering passion in a minor key. There is a really nice ornamentation to the melody, then a vocalise on the word ‘Ah’ at the end of each verse.

39:26 – L’avertimento (The warning) An urgent song warning the lads off ‘the lovely Nana’, who ‘has the heart of a tiger’. There is an impressive outburst at the end.

41:02 – La biondina in gondoleta (The blonde girl in the gondola) A slower and longer song, describing the raptures of an encounter with the blonde girl. Heady music, with a breathless final verse!

45:35 – Che pecà! (What a shame) Described by Tynan as ‘one of my favourite songs of all time’, this is a stuttering march, perhaps suggesting the rickety man of the text. Tynan’s voice rings out on the high notes, before the ‘Che pecà’ response, a distinctive reply, falls lower down the scale to comedic effect.

Encores

48:59 The boy From… by Mary Rogers, with words by Stephen Sondheim. A send-up of The Girl from Ipanema. You may be able to hear Ailish dedicating the song to the Director of Wigmore Hall, John Gilhooly, before vividly illustrating her comic powers!

52:41 – Extase by the French composer Henri Duparc (1848-1933) The other side of the singer in a carefully controlled but poignant account.

Further listening

If you enjoyed this recital then the next recommendation can only be for more Ailish Tynan, for she is wonderful in French song. Here she is in a disc of Fauré, with the pianist Iain Burnside. Well worth hearing for the composer’s open-air writing style!

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