In concert – Charlotte Saluste-Bridoux & Joseph Havlat @ Wigmore Hall: Szymanowski, Poulenc & Schubert

Charlotte Saluste-Bridoux (violin, above) and Joseph Havlat (piano, below)

Szymanowski 3 Myths Op.30 (1915)
Poulenc Violin Sonata (1943)
Szymanowski arr. Havlat 3 Kurpian Songs (from Op.58) (1930-32)
Schubert Rondo Brillant in B minor D895 (1826)

Wigmore Hall, London
Tuesday 10 April 2024 (1pm)

by Ben Hogwood

This recital was given under the umbrella of YCAT (Young Classical Artists Trust), the organisation supporting promising classical talent celebrating their 40th anniversary this year. Violinist Charlotte Saluste-Bridoux is one of the current roster, and with pianist Joseph Havlat she gave a captivating recital.

The two began with the highly perfumed 3 Myths of Karol Szymanowski, ideal concert material that can show off a performer’s virtuosity but also their descriptive potential and range of tonal colour. These pieces, written as part of a highly productive partnership Szymanowski enjoyed with violinist Pawel Kochanski, were declared by the composer to have created ‘a new…mode of expression for the violin’.

There was a sense of the new in this performance, notable for its wide range of instrumental colour. The first ‘myth’, La fontaine d’Aréthuse, was strongly characterised, the fountain vividly evoked by Havlat’s opening phrases before Saluste-Bridoux took control with fearless virtuosity. Both musicians were notable for their convincing melodic phrasing, the violin sound strikingly beautiful both with and without the mute. The musical links back to Wagner and Franck were clear, most notably in Narcisse, where the performers brought clarity to the dense counterpoint. This was descriptive music indeed, and Szymanowski’s sound world – unusually advanced for 1915 – took the audience far from the hall. The hollow piano towards the end of Dryades et Pan was notable, Havlat responding to the ghostly harmonics from the violin.

The excesses of Szymanowski were countered by one of Poulenc’s most substantial chamber works. The Violin Sonata has a very different profile to its more famous counterparts for wind instruments, being a troubled work bearing the imprint of the Second World War and personal bereavement. Completed in 1943, it is a work riddled with dark anxiety, though this performance brought out the bittersweet lyricism of the first movement. The nocturnal Intermezzo evoked the guitar, suggesting the influence of Debussy but soon holding the audience in suspense before the finale took off at quite a pace, as though looking to evade capture. Once again this was a performance of high technical standard, one that got beneath the surface to reveal the loss at the heart of Poulenc’s writing – the composer lamenting the Spanish poet Federico Garcia Lorca, who died in the Spanish Civil War.

We then heard three highly effective arrangements from Joseph Havlat of Szymanowski’s Kurpian Songs, selected from the twelve Polish folk texts set by the composer for singer and piano in 1932. As Prokofiev showed with his arrangements of 5 Poems of Anna Akhmatova for violin and piano, such a transcription can be extremely effective – and Havlat’s arrangements were just that, ideally balanced and equally spread between violin and piano. Saluste-Bridoux played with notable dexterity, the two performers enjoying the rustic Bzicem kunia and the sharp outbursts, tinged with regret, of A pod borem siwe kunie.

The musical outlook changed notably for Schubert’s Rondo brilliant, which was effectively an extended encore. The violin was arguably too full bodied to start with, the piano back in the mix, but as the Rondo progressed the balance was restored and we were able to enjoy Schubert’s humour, expressed through an oft-repeating, stop-start theme. This was successfully lodged in our heads by the end, capping an extremely fine recital. These are two artists to watch out for – especially with the Schubert recorded for Delphian Records.

Published post no.2,144 – Wednesday 10 April 2024

In concert – Quatuor Danel: Shostakovich & Weinberg #3 @ Wigmore Hall

Quatuor Danel [Marc Danel & Gilles Millet (violins), Vlad Bogdanas (viola), Yovan Markovitch (cello)]

Shostakovich String Quartet no.4 in D major Op.83 (1949)
Weinberg String Quartet no.4 in E flat major Op.20 (1945)
Shostakovich String Quartet no.5 in B flat major Op.92 (1952)

Wigmore Hall, London
Tuesday 19 January 2024

by Richard Whitehouse Photo (c) Marco Borggreve

Having got past its second instalment this time around, the Quatuor Danel’s cycle of string quartets by Shostakovich and Weinberg tonight encountered its most impressive programme thus far; the latter’s Fourth Quartet being framed by the former’s Fourth and Fifth Quartets.

Given its public premiere over four years after completion (it seems likely there were private hearings in the interim), Shostakovich’s Fourth Quartet is one among several of his pieces in which Jewish melody and inflection predominates. The key surely lies in emphasizing these as a structural as much as, if not more than, an emotional facet – as the Danel demonstrated with a take on the preludial Allegretto whose fervour never seemed anecdotal. The ensuing Andantino’s heightened pathos becomes anguished at its climax, while the scherzo is one of those speculative movements whose intimations the Danel projects so convincingly. With its implacable heading to an impulsive culmination then its allusive subsiding into an equivocal half-close, the final Allegretto conveys a tangibly but by no means concretely human drama.

Arguably his first masterpiece in the genre, Weinberg’s Fourth Quartet finds this composer tackling the Beethovenian model head-on – albeit with an opening Allegro whose unhurried manner and burnished textures only takes on greater urgency in its latter stages. The Danel brought this out accordingly, then pointed up the expressive contrast with a scherzo whose driving and ingratiating main themes alternate without hope of resolution. No less potently realized was the interplay between strident rhetoric and halting processional in the ensuing Largo, its unrelieved sombreness tentatively countered by a final Allegro which hints at an affirmative end, only to dismiss such possibility with its desperate closing crescendo. Well- received at its premiere, this quartet should have secured Weinberg’s reputation forthwith.

Other than his Twelfth, the Fifth Quartet is Shostakovich’s finest such achievement – directly preceding his Tenth Symphony with which it shares a comparable formal as well as expressive inclusivity. The Danel launched its opening Allegro with ample resolve, as if to underline the cumulative momentum of an outwardly Classical sonata form whose strenuous development carries over into a heightened reprise, then on to a coda whose pizzicato undertow establishes an emotional distance that connects seamlessly with what follows in this continuous design.

What follows is the most inwardly profound of Shostakovich’s slow movements – its overall remoteness tempered by allusion to his recent works then embargoed, with a passing raptness that might or might not be inherently personal in import. The Danel maintained concentration unerringly here, then headed straight into a finale whose initial geniality duly gives way to an explosive central climax and, in turn, tentative retracing of earlier ideas before a coda whose fatalistic radiance yields the most affecting end to any of its composer’s large-scale statements.

It certainly brought out the best interpretively from the Danel, who still found energy for an encore in the guise of a Capriccio that Weinberg wrote in the wake of his First Symphony in 1943: its amiable if sometimes barbed playfulness an ideal way to conclude a superb recital.

You can hear the music from the concert below, in recordings made by Quatuor Danel:

For more information on the next concert in the series, visit the Wigmore Hall website. You can click on the names for more on composer Mieczysław Weinberg and Quatuor Danel themselves.

Published post no.2,125 – Friday 22 March 2024

In concert – Frank Dupree, Philharmonia Orchestra / Santtu-Matias Rouvali: Kapustin, Glinka, Borodin & Rimsky-Korsakov

Frank Dupree (piano, above), Philharmonia Orchestra / Santtu-Matias Rouvali (below)

Glinka Capriccio brillante (Spanish Overture no.1 ‘Jota Aragonese’) (1845)
Kapustin Piano Concerto no.5 Op.72 (1993)
Borodin Symphony no.2 in B minor (1869 – 1876)
Rimsky-Korsakov Capriccio Espagnol Op.34 (1887)

Royal Festival Hall, London
Thursday 7 March 2024 (7.30pm)

Reviewed by Ben Hogwood Pictures (c) Raphael Steckelbach (Frank Dupree), Sisi Burn (Santtu-Matias Rouvali)

After this orchestral spectacular, I can confidently say that the Royal Festival Hall is free of cobwebs!

This most appealing program from the Philharmonia Orchestra was a cosmopolitan collection of works with roots in Russia, in the symphonic tradition (Borodin), delivering postcards from Spain (Glinka and Rimsky-Korsakov) or bringing in music from even further across the Atlantic (Kapustin).

The work with the farthest reach took top billing, thanks to the advocacy and breathtaking pianism of Frank Dupree. Making his debut with the Philharmonia, the soloist seized the opportunity to share his love of the music of Nikolai Kapustin, a composer he has championed on record in the past three years.

To call Kapustin ‘eclectic’ would be an understatement, but the label fits his unusual gift for looking outwards from classical music to jazz, boogie-woogie, Latin and even rock. To his credit none of those stylistic references sound hackneyed, and although the single-movement Piano Concerto no.5 is written out on paper it has a fresh, improvisatory quality that Dupree and the Philharmonia fair lifted off the page.

There were fun and games in this performance, harnessing elements of Gershwin, Milhaud and Shostakovich’s jazz writing, but ultimately channelling a style all of Kapustin’s own. Dupree shared the many musical jokes with the audience, while the Philharmonia percussion section – drum kit, bongos, castanets, everything but the kitchen sink! – was on hot form, Santtu-Matias Rouvali conducting with relish. The slow music explored more tender asides, evoking Harlem nights or even poolside in a hotter climate, while the fast music found Dupree exhibiting deceptive virtuosity as he navigated riffs and syncopations aplenty.

Even this wasn’t quite the highpoint, for there followed a high-spirited encore, Dupree leaning into the piano to thrum the strings in an atmospheric introduction to rhythmic high jinks, the percussion section – including Rouvali – out front to joust playfully with the soloist. It brought the house down.

With such a crowd-pleasing concerto, it was to the Philharmonia and Rouvali’s enormous credit that the rest of the program did not suffer, thanks to sparkling performances of music by three of the ‘mighty handful’ from late 19th century Russia.

Glinka’s clever interpolation of Spanish themes into his own Romantic language was brilliantly conveyed, a colourful account where Rouvali’s tempo had just the right ebb and flow. It is easy to forget this music is as old as 1845, and while the influences of Berlioz and Mendelssohn were still relatively fresh there was plenty of swagger in the dancing rhythms, the percussion again enhancing the brassy swagger of the closing pages.

Rimsky-Korsakov’s Capriccio Espagnol was even more successful, a treasure chest of melodies opened with evident enthusiasm by Rouvali, whose rapid tempo changes did occasionally leave the string section needing to make up ground. Cadenzas for violin (orchestra leader Zsolt-Tihamér Visontay), flute (Samuel Coles), clarinet (Mark van de Wiel) and harp (Heidi Krutzen) were superbly executed, Rimsky’s mini ‘concerto for orchestra’ revealed in glorious technicolour.

Rimsky wrote the Capriccio while orchestrating his friend Borodin’s opera Prince Igor – and it was his own Symphony no.2 that was in theory the most ‘sober’ of the night’s four works. We reckoned without a powerful performance from Rouvali and his charges, however, making the most of a work bursting with melodic ideas that should be heard much more often in the concert hall. The first of these ideas sets the tone for the symphony, a stern utterance with strings digging in and brass solemnly intoning their thoughts. Once heard the melody sticks in the listener’s mind, dominating the first movement where symphonic arguments were tautly exchanged.

There was room for lightness, however, in the quickfire scherzo and jubilant finale. These movements were bisected by an emotive third movement of deeper Russian origin, its theme lovingly delivered by cellos but finding plangent brass (the wonderful horn section led by Ben Hulme) and superb woodwind solos to complement. Rouvali relished the chance to dust off this relative symphonic outcast as part of a thrilling, memorable concert. The smiles on the faces of the Royal Festival Hall concertgoers as they filed into the open air said it all.

You can find more information on further concerts at the Philharmonia website

Published post no.2,112 – Saturday 8 March 2024

In concert – Philharmonia Orchestra Music of Today: Messiaen’s Quartet for the End of Time

Mark van de Wiel (clarinet, above), Zsolt-Tihamér Visontay (violin), Karen Stephenson (cello), Tom Poster (piano)

Messiaen Quatuor pour le fin du temps (Quartet for the End of Time) (1941)

Royal Festival Hall, London
Thursday 7 March 2024 (6pm)

Reviewed by Ben Hogwood Pictures (c) Guy Wigmore (Mark van de Wiel, Zsolt-Tihamér Visontay), Marina Vidor (Karen Stephenson), Elena Urioste (Tom Poster)

The Philharmonia Orchestra’s long-running Music of Today series continued with an opportunity to experience Olivier Messiaen’s 1941 masterpiece. Given its first performance in a German prisoner-of-war camp (in what is now Zgorzelec, Poland), the Quatuor pour la fin du tempsQuartet for the End of Time – was very much a product of circumstances.

The composer, in one of his rare forays into chamber music, had just three instruments available to him, plus himself at the piano. He thrived on the restrictions, using the New Testament book of Revelation as his stimulus to create an eight-movement piece that if anything has grown in stature and relevance with every passing year.

Tonight’s venue may have been a great deal more spacious than the cramped conditions of the premiere, but the quartet here lacked nothing in close-up intimacy, the sizeable audience leaning forward in their seats to engage with the music. Initially it was the piano of Tom Poster (below) that provided a strong foundation, his spacious chords catching the chill of the dawn air in Liturgie de cristal as the other three instruments circled with attractive birdsong, the music awakening softly.

The Vocalise, pour l’Ange qui annonce la fin du temps (Vocalise, for the Angel who announces the end of time) provided a firm reality check, though here too its dramatic lines were clear and spacious rather than combative, the players continuing to find an inner serenity through Messiaen’s writing. Violinist Zsolt-Tihamér Visontay and cellist Karen Stephenson thrived on these long melodic phrases, derived from plainchant.

The emotive centre of this performance was undoubtedly the solo for clarinet, Abîme des oiseaux (Abyss of birds), an incredibly moving soliloquy played with exceptional technique by Mark van de Wiel. Some of the notes started with barely audible attack while others were at the outer limits of his volume in a performance of incredible poise and control. Standing while the other musicians sat, he also let the silences between notes speak as loudly as the phrases themselves, so that even the persistent coughing of the audience was rendered into silence.

The delicate Intermède broughout out the dance elements of Messiaen’s writing, before Stephenson (above) and Poster gave a thoughtful, meditative Louange à l’Éternité de Jésus (Praise to the eternity of Jesus), beautifully played and appropriately reverent. This ensured a vivid contrast with the following Danse de la fureur, pour les sept trompettes (Dance of fury, for the seven trumpets), where the four instruments played their angular melodies with commendable precision.

Fouillis d’arcs-en-ciel, pour l’Ange qui annonce la fin du temps (Tangle of rainbows, for the Angel who announces the end of time) found Visontay (below) to the fore in the audio balance, van de Wiel slightly backward in the mix, before Visontay and Poster led us to the end itself with a radiant Louange à l’Immortalité de Jésus (Praise to the immortality of Jesus). This remarkable piece of music continues to carry a strong impact, and as the two instruments strained at the edge of audibility, Visontay reaching the highest pitch, the sense of arrival was all-consuming.

They put the seal on a memorable performance, one of the more emotive ‘rush hour’ concerts you could wish to hear, and one whose impact was felt far beyond that evening’s orchestral concert.

You can listen to a recording of Quatuor pour le fin du temps below, with Mark van de Wiel and Zsolt-Tihamér Visontay joined by cellist Mats Lidström and pianist Min-Jung Kym on the Psalmus label:

Meanwhile you can find more information on further concerts at the Philharmonia website

Published post no.2,111 – Friday 8 March 2024

In concert – Quatuor Danel: Shostakovich & Weinberg #2 @ Wigmore Hall

Quatuor Danel [Marc Danel & Gilles Millet (violins), Vlad Bogdanas (viola), Yovan Markovitch (cello)]

Weinberg String Quartet no. 2 in G major Op. 3/145 (1939-40, rev. 1986)
Weinberg String Quartet no. 3 in D minor Op. 14 (1944, rev. 1987)
Shostakovich String Quartet no. 3 in F major Op. 73 (1946)

Wigmore Hall, London
Friday 12 January 2024

by Richard Whitehouse Photo (c) Marco Borggreve

Commenced anew last November, after having been abandoned in the wake of the pandemic, the Quatuor Danel’s cycle of string quartets by Shostakovich and Weinberg at Wigmore Hall continued this evening with formative works from the latter and a masterpiece by the former.

Hopefully it will not be long before Weinberg’s Second String Quartet (1940) has entered the repertoire. Written during his two years in Minsk (after having fled a Poland overrun by Nazi forces), its ‘back to basics’ outlook is evident in the initial Allegro’s textural clarity and easy lyricism, but also a compositional flair asserting itself in the movement’s tensile development and combative coda. Revision saw the Andante become a more complex and imposing entity, its fraught central section intensifying the sombre expression either side, along with an extra movement. This taciturn yet wistfully elegant Intermezzo makes for an admirable foil to the Finale, its rondo format energetically traversed through to a curtly decisive close. The Danel was palpably in command of music which transcends any apprenticeship quality with ease.

Shorter and more concentrated, Weinberg’s Third Quartet exudes an overarching emotional intensity. The Danel was mindful to observe those attacca markings such as give the overall design its unity within diversity – the uninhibited energy of the opening Presto by no means offset with the bittersweet poise of the central Andante, its taciturn unease being continued in a final Allegretto as affords only the most tenuous of closes and one which arguably feels too provisional, even in this insightful a reading. One reason, perhaps, the composer overhauled this piece when recasting it more than three decades later as his Second Chamber Symphony, when a completely new and more ‘conclusive’ finale was substituted for the original. Which is not to deny the fascination of this music from a crucial stage in his mastery of the medium.

A mastery as Shostakovich achieved with his own Third Quartet, its five movements drawing on those formal and expressive possibilities of his wartime Eighth and Ninth Symphonies, so the opening movement unfolds almost as a revisiting of that from the latter piece. The Danel undeniably had the measure of its playful capriciousness and brought out the ominous unease of the intermezzo, then headlong aggression of the scherzo which follow. Shostakovich’s first recourse to a passacaglia in his quartets, the slow movement exuded acute eloquence and this ensemble timed to perfection its cumulative approach to the finale’s searing apex. From here, the gradual dissipation of accumulated tension was palpably conveyed through to the numbed fatalism of a conclusion in which Shostakovich seems intent on bowing before the inevitable.

At this stage in the Danel’s traversal one might have expected either or both of Weinberg’s standalone Aria and Capriccio (written 1942-3) to have been given as encores. Instead, the players opted for repeating the finale from his Second Quartet, which at least provided the necessary uplift after the close of the Shostakovich. Hopefully those two pieces will be heard after the next instalment of this cycle, the Fourth Quartets of both composers being followed with the Fifth Quartet of Shostakovich: truly a ‘concert and a half’ as regards string quartets.

You can hear the music from the concert below, in recordings made by Quatuor Danel:

For more information on the next concert in the series, visit the Wigmore Hall website. You can click on the names for more on composer Mieczysław Weinberg and Quatuor Danel themselves.

Published post no.2,057 – Monday 12 January 2024