In Concert – PRS Presents – Classical Edition: Manchester Collective @ LSO St Luke’s

Manchester Collective [names not given in the programme but assumed to be Rakhi Singh (violin, director), Jonathan Martindale (violin), Alex Mitchell (viola), Christian Elliott (cello)]

Mason Muttos from Sardinian Songbook
Finnis String Quartet no.2
Wallen Five Postcards
Campbell 3AM
Mason Eki Attar from Tuvan Songbook
Tabakova Insight
Hamilton In Beautiful May
Glass String Quartet no.4 ‘Buczak’ (2nd movement)
Meredith Tuggemo

Wigmore Hall, London
Wednesday 25 September 2024

Reviewed by Ben Hogwood

This inspiring concert, the first in a series presented by the enterprising team at the Performing Rights Society (PRS), revealed the innovation afoot even in the most traditional classical music forms. The string quartet has been an established medium for close on 300 years, but the four players assembled by the Manchester Collective showed where future possibilities lie.

Christian Mason’s work reproduces throat singing for the medium, often with vocal contributions from the players themselves – and the Collective’s performances of Muttos and Eki Attar were gripping and rhythmically vital.

Grabbing the attention in a very different way were quieter works by Edmund Finnis and Jocelyn Campbell. The former’s String Quartet no.2 inhabited the rarefied atmosphere that Finnis seems able to conjure at will, with interlocking phrases and melodies given an unexpectedly tender accent. The Manchester Collective played with beautiful sonority, enhanced by microphones – which in the case of Jocelyn Campbell’s 3AM was an asset, portraying the streets of London in the hour of the day where they are at their most deserted. The slights of hand, the nocturnal rustlings, the shadows we couldn’t quite make out – all were beautifully rendered and sculpted by a composer whose painting in sound is uncommonly vivid.

This was before the elephant in the room – Andrew Hamilton’s In Beautiful May – was dealt with. A piece for solo violin and electronics, it was delivered with great virtuosity by Rakhi Singh, who warned us ahead of the performance that it would be a ‘marmite’ piece. She was absolutely right, playing music that was definitely not for everyone’s enjoyment – and certainly not this reviewer. Hamilton’s collage of jarring violin phrases and pop song snippets meant we jumped between Singh and snatches of Shalamar’s I Can Make You Feel Good, Take That’s Back For Good and Will Young’s Evergreen. The short attention span of the music was infuriating, its cut and paste approach chopping the music into small bits and spitting it against an unforgiving wall. Yet personal feelings should be qualified, as Hamilton’s piece got one of the strongest reactions of the night!

Perhaps surprisingly the second movement from Philip Glass’s String Quartet no.4, Buczak, provided some much-needed balm, with an elegance not normally associated with the American composer. The Manchester Collective gave a beautiful legato performance allowing time for reflection.

Meanwhile Dobrinka Tabakova’s Insight made a strong impression, its folk melodies and rhythms winningly played and melded into an extremely convincing whole, offering further proof of the Bulgarian composer’s assured and compelling writing for strings in particular.

Errollyn Wallen’s Five Postcards, for violin and viola, were given a brilliant performance by Singh and Alex Mitchell. These were a lot of fun, ranging from bluesy musical chats to intimate asides, and a reminder that the combination of violin and viola – used so effectively by Mozart but surprisingly few composers since – is well worth revisiting.

Finishing the concert was Tuggemo by Anna Meredith, using the old English word for a swarm of birds or flies. It made for a suitably hedonistic note on which to finish the concert, with its driving four to the floor beat and jagged quartet riffing. While meant to be loud, the beat swamped the quartet on this occasion, its ultimate destination the middle of a dancefloor before the piece broke off and left us hanging.

This was, however, another example of Manchester Collective’s remarkable virtuosity and further evidence of their clever programming. Both elements combined to make this a memorable and highly stimulating concert.

Published post no.2,313 – 26 September 2024

In Concert – Leila Josefowicz & John Novacek @ Wigmore Hall: Debussy, Szymanowski, Bray & Stravinsky

Leila Josefowicz (violin, above), John Novacek (piano, below)

Debussy Violin Sonata in G minor L140 (1916-17)
Szymanowski 3 Myths Op.30 (1915)
Bray Mriya (2023) [Wigmore Hall commission: World premiere]
Stravinsky Divertimento from Le Baiser de la fée (1928, arr. 1934, rev. 1949)

Wigmore Hall, London
Saturday 21 September 2024

Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse

Long among the more adventurous violinists from her generation, this latest Wigmore recital found Leila Josefowicz focussing on music traversing the boundary between Impressionism and neo-Classicism, together with a recent piece such as conveyed a meaningful relevance.

It might not be such a good idea to launch a recital with Debussy’s Violin Sonata, as this last and conceptually most fluid of its composer’s late chamber works is essentially a culmination rather than starting-point. Having rather harried its opening Allegro, Josefowicz brought keen imagination to its Intermède which none the less lacked that fantasy and lightness intended. Most convincing was its finale, the headlong succession of ideas deftly propelled to a payoff not merely decisive but of all-round conclusiveness – whatever Debussy may have intended.

Whereas this piece was admired but initially found relatively few exponents, Szymanowski’s Myths was early recognized as a milestone in its medium and has latterly regained that initial eminence. Josefowicz duly recognized these innovative qualities with an impulsive yet never wayward take on La fontaine d’Arethuse, its capriciousness finding an ideal complement in the simmering emotion and alluring poise of Narcisse – self-aware rather self-regarding as to expression – or increasingly recalcitrant playfulness of Dryades et Pan with its teasingly delayed – even almost avoided – close. Just occasionally, Josefowicz’s snatching at a rhythmic gesture denied the music its high-flown eloquence but, overall, this proved a perceptive and involving account where her interaction with John Novacek’s attentive pianism was absolute.

Those who hear the Szymanowski as a ‘sonata malgré-lui’ might feel likewise about Mriya by Charlotte Bray, which tonight had its first hearing. Its Ukrainian title variously implying ‘dream, vision, ambition and vow’, this four-movement work charted a course of terror but also resolve. The first of these infused its disparate while distinctive ideas with a momentum as merged directly into the feline capering of its successor; after which, a slower movement offered a measure of sustained if hardly serene calm, before the finale once again marshalled its disjunct gestures towards a culmination which was pointedly withheld. A symbol, perhaps, of the Ukrainian people’s struggle as is far from reaching closure let alone victory? Whatever the case, this is absorbing and deeply felt music that received a suitably committed response.

From here to Stravinsky’s Divertimento from The Fairy’s Kiss was some conceptual leap. One of several such adaptations its composer made during its career as a duo-recitalist with Samuel Dushkin, this takes in most of the ballet’s initial two-thirds – the Sinfonia by turns pensive and restive, while the rumbustious Danses suisses was irresistibly despatched. The Scherzo exuded a capering charm and the Pas de Deux moved effortlessly from its soulful Adagio, via nimble Variation, to an initially dextrous then increasingly uproarious Coda.

This recital ended in a wholly different aesthetic world from which it began, but Josefowicz’s acuity could not be gainsaid. ‘Uproarious’ was also the watchword of the encore – Novacek’s Intoxication Rag, arranged by Itzhak Perlman no less and rendered with appropriate abandon.

For more on the Autumn season visit the Wigmore Hall website – and for more on the artists, click on the names Leila Josefowicz and John Novacek

Published post no.2,309 – Sunday 22 September 2024

In Concert – Sean Shibe @ Wigmore Hall: A Celebration of the Guitar

Sean Shibe (guitar)

J.S. Bach Prelude in C minor, BWV999 (c1727)
Barrios Mangoré La Catedral (1921, rev. 1939)
Villa-Lobos Prelude no. 3 in A minor (1940); Études (1929) – no.1 in E minor, no.5 in C major, no.8 in C sharp minor, no.10 in B minor
Barrios Mangoré Barcarola in D major, ‘Julia Florida’ (1938)
Mompou Suite compostelana (1962) – nos. 1, 2, 5 and 6
Martin Quatre pieces brèves (1933)
Adès Forgotten Dances (2023)

Wigmore Hall, London
Thursday 19 September 2023

Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse

Expecting the unexpected has become synonymous with Sean Shibe, who tonight began his season-long residency at Wigmore Hall with this recital which deftly blurred any perceived demarcation between improvised or notated music in a compulsively absorbing programme.

One of a surviving handful of pieces probably written for lute, Bach’s C minor Prelude began proceedings – its elegantly methodical unfolding here rendered with real liquidity by Shibe. It segued seamlessly into La Catedral as is among a relative few of Agustín Barrios Mangoré’s extended compositions: the subdued fervour of (belatedly added) Preludio saudade heading into the hieratic processional of Andante religioso, before the lively yet disquieting motion of Allegro solenne brought this vividly yet understatedly illustrative sequence to its close.

Here, as across this recital, Segovia was a pervasive presence – not least on the guitar output of Heitor Villa-Lobos. From his Five Preludes, Schiebe opted for the Third – a Homage to Bach whose echoing open strings summon an opulence, even majesty, out of all proportion to its length. Then came four of his 12 Études – the intensive arpeggio workout of the First, the stark contrasts between melody and accompaniment of the Fifth, the playful alternation of registers in the Eighth, then rounded off with the exacting rhythmic fluidity of the 10th.

The first half closed with more Barrios – his Júlia Florida a barcarolle of melting tenderness whose allure carried over a second half that commenced with four of the six movements from Federico Mompou’s Suite compostelana. One of the Catalan’s handful of works for other than piano, the distanced evocation of Preludio complemented the austere spirituality of Coral as surely as did the folk-tinged pathos of Canción the ingratiating allure of Muñeira – this latter bringing the Galician environs which had inspired this music into greatest prominence.

Shibe’s including music by Frank Martin was more than welcome in the 50th anniversary of the Swiss composer’s death as has passed largely unnoticed in the UK. His only work for solo guitar, Quatre pieces brèves has been championed by many guitarists in Segovia’s wake and Shibe duly left his mark with his quizzical take on its Prélude, the chaste witfulness of Air then the barely contained emotional impetus of Plainte, before Comme une gigue provided a pointedly ‘contemporary’ vantage on the Baroque dance by turns quixotic and invigorating.

That both Martin and Thomas Adès have written operas on Shakespeare’s The Tempest seems as good a link as any into Forgotten Dances, the latter composer’s first work for guitar. Its six vignettes traverse the restless Overture and Buñuel-influenced speculation of Berceuse, via the Ligetian propulsion of Courante and tenuous repose of Barcarolle, to the cumulatively effusive homage to Berlioz of Carillon de Ville then rather more equable homage to Purcell of Vesper – its allusions emerging, Dowland-like, over what becomes an affecting farewell.

An intriguingly varied recital duly afforded focus not least by the calmly assured presence of Shibe – his appearance this evening redolent of the long-gone, much-missed Billy Mackenzie. A limpid rendering of an as yet unidentified encore provided a brief if wholly appropriate envoi.

To read more about Sean Shibe’s residency at the hall, visit the Wigmore Hall website – and click here to visit the guitarist’s own website

In concert – Dawn Landes @ Komedia (Studio), Brighton

Dawn Landes (vocals, guitar) @ Komedia (Studio), Brighton, 8 September 2024

by John Earls. Photo (c) John Earls

Dawn LandesThe Liberated Woman’s Songbook is a remarkable album and project. It is Landes’ re-imagining of the book of the same title, originally published by folk singer, guitar teacher and author Jerry Silverman in 1971.

The night before this performance it was the subject of a major concert at London Barbican’s Milton Hall, where Landes was joined a number of special guests including folk legend Peggy Seeger and poet Jackie Kay.

Tonight it was a central (but by no means exclusive) feature of this solo acoustic set at the much smaller Studio space of Brighton’s Komedia. Telling the stories and highlighting the voices of women through songs spanning over 200 years, this section of the evening had the feel of the best kind of musical history lesson.

Hard is the Fortune of All Womankind, a traditional ballad from 1830, is the earliest of the collection  and was deeply affecting, as was The Housewife’s Lament (1866), whose lyrics come from the diary of a woman named Sarah A. Price in Ottawa, Illinois. She had seven children, all of whom died in her lifetime.

Bread and Roses (1912) was one of the songs for which Landes was ably joined by Sylvie Lewis. Along with The Mill Mother’s Lament (1929) – “Let’s stand together workers and have a union here”  – and Florence Reece’s Which Side Are You On (1931), it emphasised that many of these songs are not just based on women’s liberation but workers’ and trade union rights also. This was apposite given that the annual meeting of the Trades Union Congress was taking place just up the road (in which I declare an interest as an attendee).

This may all sound rather earnest, but whilst the seriousness of the issues was never diminished, there was plenty of humour throughout the evening. This was helpfully illustrated by this section’s ending with Meredith Tax’s adaptation of the children’s song There was a Young Woman Who Swallowed a Lie (1970). These songs and these women still need to be heard.

This Liberated Woman’s section of the performance was bookended by songs from some of Landes’ other albums. The show opened with Bluebird, from the album of the same name celebrating its 10th anniversary, which set the tone perfectly. From the start it was clear this was going to be intimate, beautiful and ultimately joyous.

Heel Toe was captivating and smoky, Wind and Rain – “Hands up if you’ve had enough”was fabulous, and there was an absolutely cracking version of Why They Name Whiskey After Men.

Dawn Landes has a gorgeous voice. The singing was clear and expressive, the guitar plucking deft and there were even some sparkling golden boots (“glitter makes things better!”) which were removed at times for some barefoot stomping or appended with tambourine.

All in all one genuinely got the sense that after the excitement of the previous night’s extravaganza this smaller club outing was a back to basics affair. Landes seemed to enjoy it and absolutely held the room.

John Earls is Director of Research at Unite the Union and tweets / updates his ‘X’ content at @john_earls

Published post no.2,296 – Tuesday 10 September 2024

Arcana at the Proms – Prom 62: Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra / Sir Simon Rattle – Mahler: Symphony no.6

Mahler Symphony no.6 in A minor (1903-04)

Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra / Sir Simon Rattle

Royal Albert Hall, London
Friday 6 September 2024

reviewed by Ben Hogwood Photos (c) Chris Christodoulou (taken from the previous night’s Prom)

This was Sir Simon Rattle‘s fifteenth encounter with the music of Gustav Mahler at the BBC Proms – and a third outing under his baton for the Sixth Symphony, which he first conducted in charge of the National Youth Orchestra of Great Britain 40 years ago.

This time he was visiting, having returned to Germany to take charge of the Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra, a feeling for the concertgoers akin to welcoming a distant relative and hearing about their latest job. The Munich ensemble have formidable Mahler credentials, no doubt introduced by Eugen Jochum from their founding in 1949 but notably honed by Rafael Kubelík, with whom they recorded all the symphonies for Deutsche Grammophon. This account of the Sixth proved them to be the ideal foil for Rattle, the Liverpudlian welcomed with great cheers around the hall.

Sir Simon knows his Mahler better than arguably any other living conductor, and the breadth and depth he brought to his interpretation was breathtaking. So too was the sheer audible spectrum, for which we have to thank Mahler, for this is one of those works that has simply everything, from the tiniest murmur from bass strings to the thunderous hammer strokes of the finale. Some way between that lies the tender theme he wrote for his wife Alma, a glowing light in the first movement under the tender caress of its beautiful wind choir. Around this and in the last movement were fleeting glimmers of sunshine from the cowbells, an unusual addition to the percussion section that charmed from their offstage position, evoking the open meadows but with shivers of cold wind from the rest of the orchestra, outlines icily drawn by strings and brass.

These moments were welcome respite from the tumult of Mahler’s marching music, obsessively hammered home in the fast movements, the orchestra turning this way and that at quick speed. The marching music, so virulent in the first movement, quickly develops a sour taste, and Rattle was alive to that in the scherzo – placed third. This is a time-honoured practice for him, in accordance with Mahler’s order of performance when conducting but not his initial order of composition. The controversy continues to follow the work around, and although many (this author included) prefer the scherzo placed second – ratcheting up the tension – Rattle’s shaping of the piece overall made his own choice a convincing one.

The orchestra were simply stunning. The strings – rarely given due credit in big symphonic performances such as this – were united beyond criticism, the violins in remarkable unison – and particularly beautiful in the serene opening to a magical slow movement. Brass were also as one in their clarion calls, but turned vulgar when they needed to. The wind section was beautifully shaped and coloured, with an appropriately plaintive oboe solo in the trio section of the scherzo. Underpinning the performance were the rolling timpani, the thunder to the lightning strikes of the percussion, whose power was simply brutal at times, The hammer blows, struck twice in the finale, were terrifying strokes of fate and delivered with appropriately cold theatre.

This was a performance that will stick in the memory for years, one from which my ears are still ringing. Mahler’s ghastly premonitions of later existence were brought to life in shocking technicolour, though Rattle revelled at the same time in its beautiful evocations of nature. These were ultimately swept aside, with red-blooded highs and cold-blooded lows, all blended into the same intoxicating musical cocktail. For sheer emotional power, this symphony – and this performance – had it all.

You can listen to the Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra and Sir Simon Rattle in their recent live recording of the Sixth symphony below:

Published post no.2,294 – Saturday 7 September 2024