Category Archives: In concert

Arcana at the Proms – Prom 8: Nick Drake – An Orchestral Celebration

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Olivia Chaney, Marika Hackman, BC Camplight, Scott Matthews, The Unthanks, BBC Symphony Orchestra / Jules Buckley

Royal Albert Hall, London
Wednesday 24 July 2024

reviewed by John Earls Pictures below (c) John Earls and (bottom) Chris Christodoulou

This November sees the 50th anniversary of the tragic death of the English singer-songwriter Nick Drake at the age of 26, having released just three albums of beautiful, bittersweet songs. Little known at the time, his reputation and influence has grown significantly.

This 2024 BBC Prom – an ‘orchestral celebration’ of his music – was destined to be something quite special and credit should go to British journalist and broadcaster John Wilson for proposing it.

Jules Buckley, here conducting the BBC Symphony Orchestra, has been involved in a number of BBC Proms over the years giving orchestral twists to contemporary music. Many of Drake’s songs were released at the time with string arrangements by Robert Kirby (it was good to hear Buckley pay tribute to Kirby who he referred to as “Nick Drake’s foil”) and these were developed, as well as some new ones added, by a number of other arrangers for this concert.

Following a gripping opening of the instrumental Introduction from Drake’s Bryter Layter album, BC Camplight gave excellent performances of Fly and Pink Moon which was deftly accompanied by strings and horns. Alas, his closing of the concert with Drake’s classic Saturday Sun didn’t quite cut it, being a bit too schmaltzy for this reviewer. However, the final all orchestral piece, an arrangement by Sam Gale of Horn, a sparse solo guitar piece from Pink Moon, was luminous and intense, culminating in a poignant solo trumpet.

Marika Hackman gave enchanting versions of Fruit Tree and River Man and her take on Time Has Told Me was a wonderfully smoky blues accompanied by drums, organ and guitar (Neill MacColl did some sterling work throughout the evening).

Scott Matthews opened his account with a wonderful Way to Blue with dramatic strings and timpani which, from where I was sitting, at times slightly overpowered his delicate voice, something rectified in the second half for his lovely performances of Northern Sky and From the Morning.

Olivia Chaney (above) gave a strong vocal performance of Hazey Jane I and a terrific version of At the Chime of a City Clock where the strings and horns were again particularly effective. Her solo piano rendition of Time of No Reply was outstanding.

Two of the most moving moments did not feature Nick Drake songs at all but those of his mother Molly. The Unthanks performed touching versions of What Can a Song Do to You? and Set Me Free and were joined by Drake’s sister Gabrielle reciting some of Molly’s poems in both cases. It was extremely affecting.

One can only imagine what Gabrielle Drake must have thought hearing the songs of her brother (and mother) performed in this way after so many years to a packed Royal Albert Hall that listened respectfully and lovingly. It was fitting testimony to the enduring quality of the music of an extraordinary songwriter.

This concert (including interval discussion with John Wilson, Radio 3 presenter Elizabeth Alker and Gabrielle Drake) is available on BBC Sounds until early October. For more on the 2024 BBC Proms, visit the festival’s website at the BBC, and click on the link to read John Earls’ review of Richard Morton Jack’s biography on Nick Drake: The Life. 

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

Published post no.2,250 – Thursday 25 July 2024

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

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

BBC National Orchestra of Wales / Ryan Bancroft

Royal Albert Hall, London
Monday 22 July 2024

reviewed by Richard Whitehouse

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

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

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

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

For more on this year’s festival, visit the BBC Proms website – and for more on the artists involved, click on the names to read more about the BBC National Orchestra of Wales and conductor Ryan Bancroft. Dedicated pages for the composers can be accessed by clicking on Schoenberg and Zemlinsky

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

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

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

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

Symphony Hall, Birmingham
Wednesday 17 May 2024

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Barbican Hall, London
Thursday 20 June 2024

Reviewed by Ben Hogwood Pictures (c) Mark Allan

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Published post no.2,216 – Friday 21 June 2024

In concert – Chaka Khan’s Meltdown: Bruce Hornsby @ Royal Festival Hall

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Bruce Hornsby (vocals, piano), Olivia Chaney (vocals, harmonium)]

Royal Festival Hall, London
Tuesday 18 June 2024

Reviewed by Ben Hogwood Photos (c) Ben Hogwood

Bruce Hornsby likes to challenge his audience. When I was fortunate enough to interview him for musicOMH, he went into some detail – with great feeling – about how the gig experience should not be a mere reproduction of his recorded output.

In reality, the opposite is the truth. While he presents his best-known material, he coats it in new clothes, pairing it in some cases with modern classical piano works. Ligeti, Webern, Elliott Carter and Schoenberg all make themselves known in the course of this solo piano set, their chromatic compositions a direct contrast to the pop songs with which they are juxtaposed.

Hornsby is a natural raconteur in between, his stories told with a glint in the eye but also with a good deal of meaning and emotion. The piano is his closest relative, for sure – and the feeling is that not a day goes by without Hornsby spending at least a few hours seated at the keyboard. Watching this gig is akin to eavesdropping on a practice session in the room next door. Sure, there are some rough edges, but they are all part of the charm – moments where the voice has to travel higher than it might normally go, or where there are too many notes to fit into the available meter at the end of a particularly fulsome improvisation.

For these performances are very much in the moment, and for that the audience is grateful. The Royal Festival Hall stage is an oversized living room, the audience effectively sat around the fire as the host tells his musical stories. The narration is kept brief, as the generous host ‘only has 90 minutes’ in which to fit the music he wants to play.

Ten minutes in and we have already had our money’s worth, in the form of elegant versions of Days Ahead and Soon Enough. In these songs Hornsby uses the piano as a miniature orchestra, creating colours through the unusual density of the left-hand part but giving us memorable melodies and lyrics too. The voice is in good shape, the piano even more so.

Cast-Off is the first to showcase his more recent musical directions, the co-write with Bon Iver’s Justin Vernon a humourous tale of a man addicted to break-ups but one with a lingering sadness. The melodic profile is now angular, but the tunes still make sense, while the harmonies strain at the leash leaving their audience behind.

At times it seems Hornsby is determined to challenge and even rile the audience, with provocative one-liners and musical about-turns. The Way It Is now comes without its principal riff – but it still reaches deep into the soul, a moment for the audience to think and check themselves, assess their life direction even. It remains a special song, one of the ‘80s best, and the mark of a good song is that it can work in several guises. The same can be said for The End Of The Innocence, a Hornsby composition for Don Henley, which by its end inhabits the air of a Brahms intermezzo.

The co-writes are a source of constant surprise and wonder. There are songs written with Chaka Khan (the moving Love Me Still), performed with Sting, Eric Clapton and Bruce Springsteen (Halcyon Days), or with Elton John (Dreamland), where the piano line is recognisably the work of Hornsby.

He sings affectionately of his son’s dislike of school (Hooray For Tom) and ventures into ‘the curiously American genre of the murder ballad’ for the Pat Metheny collaboration Country Doctor, where wondrous things happen beneath the floorboards – aka the piano’s lowest register. This is the song with the most rhythmic drive.

At two points in his set Hornsby is joined by fellow singer-songwriter Olivia Chaney, who also plays harmonium. Their version of The Pogues’ Fairytale In New York is on the quaint side, and feels under rehearsed, but works thanks to the musicianship on show, even if the harmonium is low in the mix. Balance is restored for Mandolin Rain, one of the best songs on show, where Hornsby’s deadpan emotional guard almost slips.

He is a true entertainer, able to get the crowd eating out of his hand while they marvel at the skill and guile of a performer who has not yet been fully appreciated in his time. Fifteen albums into his career, Hornsby is more adventurous on his approach to 70 than he ever has been, set to challenge his audience even further with time. More power to his elbow, for a great pianist such as him deserves this stage on a much more regular basis. The crowd, discussing a memorable night, would surely agree.

Published post no.2,214 – Wednesday 19 June 2024