Talking Heads: Paul Wee

Posted on by
Reply

by Ben Hogwood

Paul Wee is a true one-off. An in-demand commercial barrister by day, he is also an extraordinary pianist, capable of taking on some of the most demanding pieces in the repertoire. The combination of a passion for his art and thirst for a challenge has led to award-winning recordings of the music of Thalberg and of Beethoven arranged by Liszt, both for the BIS label.

Yet arguably his greatest recording achievement to date concerns the music of Charles-Valentin Alkan, the 19th-century French composer who was one of the great virtuosos of his day. Wee has mastered two massive works by the composer – his Symphony for Solo Piano and the Concerto for Solo Piano. The latter will form an entire lunchtime concert with which he will make his eagerly anticipated Wigmore Hall debut, on Saturday 15 June. A tempestuous hour of music lies ahead – so while he flexes his muscles in preparation, Arcana managed to get some time with him to explore not just Alkan but a number of other irons he has in the fire.

Firstly, Paul recalls vividly his first encounter with Alkan’s music. “It was when I was in high school, in New York City”, he says. “I heard a live recording of Marc-André Hamelin playing the Symphony for Solo Piano, and I was awestruck immediately!”

His decision to take on the concerto was inspired by similar feelings. “I was immediately taken by the Concerto for Solo Piano when hearing it for the first time: it’s an astonishing musical construction, which makes an extraordinary and unforgettable impact. I didn’t know of any other work like it in the repertoire and knew that I had to give it a go myself.”

The piece is notorious for the demands Alkan makes on the performer, but as Wee confirms the rewards are greater still. “The technical challenges are reasonably self-evident; in the numerous passages where Alkan is displaying the ‘virtuosity’ of the (virtual) ‘soloist’, the writing – whilst always remaining very idiomatic and practical, characteristically for Alkan – can sometimes approach the limits of conventional pianism”, he says. “The emotional (or musical) challenges are mainly twofold: first, bringing to life the (extraordinarily theatrical) drama and rhetoric in the second movement Adagio; and second, maintaining the intensity of the Concerto’s narrative arc across its 50-minute wingspan. But when these challenges are met, it makes for one of the most incredible experiences that the piano repertoire has to offer.”

Wee has recorded the concerto for BIS, an album released in 2019. Has his view of the piece changed since then? “Yes – in relation to both the Concerto’s sound world, and also its pacing, especially in the Allegro assai. As ever it’s difficult to explain this in words, so the best thing for anybody interested is to come and hear it live!”

Alkan is a composer who inspires great dedication among his fans, and Wee considers the elements of his music that lead to these feverish reactions. “I think it is the sheer power and quality of his finest works, which offer extraordinary experiences quite unlike anything else that the 19th century has to offer. The fact that Alkan and these works are not as widely known as they should be can often lead to fans of Alkan’s music to (rightly!) encourage others to discover this music for themselves. That’s exactly what I hope to be doing myself when bringing the Concerto to Wigmore Hall.”

Anyone approaching Alkan’s music for the first time is in for a treat. “It depends on what work they are hearing. If the Concerto, they should prepare themselves for an epic, but nevertheless very accessible, musical narrative; a very wide variety of pianistic experiences, from some of the greatest heights of 19th-century virtuoso piano writing, through to tender intimacy and lyricism, with much quasi-operatic dramatic intensity and rhetoric along the way. Overall, the listener should prepare themselves for the extraordinary cumulative impact of the work, which builds across all three movements and which in a good performance can be utterly overwhelming.”

Presenting this work in the Wigmore Hall is something of a dream for Wee, who recalls his most memorable musical experiences in the venue. “Wigmore Hall is probably my most visited concert venue, and my own personal highlights reel would be too long to list in full! But some illustrative examples would have to include recitals by Marc-André Hamelin playing Haydn, Mozart, Liszt, Fauré, and Alkan in November 2009; Benjamin Grosvenor playing Mendelssohn, Chopin, Ravel, and Liszt in June 2016; and Mark Padmore and Paul Lewis in Schubert’s Winterreise in June 2022.”

Expanding from Alkan, Wee has somehow found time to discover and record concertos by two names unfamiliar to many devotees of classical music – Adolph von Henselt and Hans von Bronsart (above). It is another addition to his small but formidably constructed discography for BIS – and not a recent discovery, either. “I discovered the Henselt in my teens,”, he says, “after reading about it in books by Harold Schonberg and David Dubal, and seeking out recordings by Raymond Lewenthal and Marc-André Hamelin. I came to the Bronsart later, after being captivated by Michael Ponti’s recording of the slow movement.”

The recordings Wee mentions were made with a symphony orchestra, but for the new album he is paired with the Swedish Chamber Orchestra, under Michael Collins. “One of the greatest difficulties of the Henselt lies in making the piano part, with all of its detailing and intricacies, audible over the sound of the orchestra”, he explains. “In nearly all cases, large swathes of the passagework (especially in the finale) are simply swallowed and inaudible beneath the weight of a modern symphony orchestra. In teaming up with the Swedish Chamber Orchestra for this recording, I think we have been able to present a different view of the Henselt in particular, which presents Henselt’s (quasi-Mendelssohnian) piano writing with a new immediacy and clarity, whilst maintaining power and heft where needed. Of course, the Swedish Chamber Orchestra is not just any old chamber orchestra; it has a particular reputation for being “the chamber orchestra that can sound like a symphony orchestra”, and I think that anybody hearing (say) the opening tutti of the Bronsart Concerto will be astounded by the vigour and intensity that the Swedish Chamber Orchestra brings to the proceedings. I think they have been the perfect partner for this recording.”

He continues to move forward with recording plans…“but as there are still a few moving pieces here and there, all I will say for now is to watch this space. But my future recording plans with BIS are very exciting, and I’m looking forward to sharing them when I can say more…”

Looking further afield, what other music would he like to explore? “The list is far too long: the piano literature is so wide and so rich, and I find many things to love in nearly every one of its corners. In addition to that, the music that I might want to play and enjoy for myself will not necessarily be the same as the music that might be thought to sell well if I were to record it. So there are many dimensions to this question, which do not necessarily interrelate. Again, I think that all I can say is that there are some very interesting projects in the pipeline, so watch this space!”

In the meantime he will continue with his two complementary disciplines. “Absolutely: I have no desire to give up my legal career and become a full-time musician. I enjoy my work as a commercial barrister; it’s challenging, constantly stimulating, and ultimately very satisfying. On the musical side, I wouldn’t be averse to playing a few more concerts here and there, but probably nothing more than that. I wouldn’t ever want for the piano to become my day-to-day life. I am much happier with the piano being my escape from everyday life, which (for me) is my career at the Bar.”

He expands on how the two very different elements of his life are complementary. “The most important factor is that each presents an escape from the other. When my legal practice is especially demanding (which, as any lawyer will tell you, can frequently be the case), I can take a quick 5- or 10-minute time-out at the piano, and for that window, I am completely disconnected from the strains and stresses of the law: I return to my desk refreshed. In the other direction, my legal career has helped me hugely as a pianist by (perhaps paradoxically) ensuring that the piano is not my day-to-day life, as I mentioned above. Whenever I sit down at the piano, it’s never out of obligation, but out of joy. These days I have a completely different relationship with the instrument than what I used to have when I thought (as a teenager) that I wanted to be a concert pianist. I think the freedom that underpins my relationship with the piano these days has been essential in making me the pianist that I have become.”

Finally, he considers the music he anticipates seeing as a concertgoer this year – when time allows. “As it happens, this year I am going to far fewer concerts than usual, given the demands of family life (our second daughter was born in December and is just six months old). So I’m often going to concerts at shorter notice than usual. That said, I’m hoping to see Benjamin Grosvenor in the Busoni Concerto at the Proms, and I have Igor Levit’s September 2024 recital in my diary, where he’ll be playing the Liszt transcription of Beethoven’s Seventh Symphony: these are fabulous transcriptions that should be played in concert far more frequently, so I’m delighted to see him bringing this to London. I’m also planning to see Nikolai Lugansky at Wigmore Hall in December 2024, where he’ll be playing (among other things) his own stunning transcription of scenes from Götterdämmerung. I’m sure there will be many other concerts along the way!”

For information on Paul’s Wigmore Hall debut, on Saturday 15 June at 1pm, click on this link. You can read more about Paul at his website, and explore his discography at the Presto website

Published post no.2,207 – Wednesday 12 June 2024

On Record – Kathy Hinde: Twittering Machines (TBC Editions)

Posted on by
Reply

by Ben Hogwood

What’s the story?

Twittering Machines is an audiovisual performance by Kathy Hinde that won an Ivor Novello award in 2020. This recorded version presents a single composition, split over two sides of vinyl, marking the centenary of Beatrice Harrison’s famous BBC broadcast, where the cellist duetted with a nightingale, drawing attention to the bird’s perilous plight.

Her study looks at the disrupted environmental cycles that may threaten its future, in a direct and confrontational way, drawing attention to unsettling interactions of humanity and nature. She uses John Keats’ Ode to a Nightingale in a morse code translation, used as ‘a metaphor for humanity’s existential struggle with the climate crisis.” The poem has a counterpoint of music boxes, bird imitation toys, singing bowls, gongs, synths and field recordings, along with the voices of British ornithologist Peter Holden MBE and Bavarian bird imitator Helmut Wolfertstetter, which Hinde has cut onto dubplate.

Thus Twittering Machines profiles not just birds but social media outlets of the same name, its name gaining double meaning as the album becomes a ‘lament for our fast-dying planet.’

What’s the music like?

Both enlightening and unsettling – and affecting, too. The Morse code at the start is an arresting combination when paired with the birdsong, but as it dulls and the birds take over the sense of unrest is real, in spite of the ambience of the natural sounds.

Side B features a spoken description of the chaffinch from Peter Holden, and as it proceeds the monologue becomes detached from the sounds around it, which take on more reverb. Soon the bells take over, resonant to the point of overpowering the listener with their rounded profile, and the piece, having reached an apex, subsides back to the messages of the Morse code.

Does it all work?

It certainly achieves Kathy Hinde’s objectives and presents a powerful case in defence of the birds’ welfare. This is a musical message that proves difficult to ignore.

Is it recommended?

It is – but with caution, for this is certainly not music or sounds for all moods and can prove uncomfortable on headphones. Yet that is the point, for Twittering Machines is a powerful wake-up call, a reminder that nature – and birds in particular – are not to be taken for granted.

For fans of… Erland Cooper, Rautavaara, Cabaret Voltaire

Listen and Buy

Published post no.2,206 – Tuesday 11 June 2024

Switched On – Franck Vigroux: Grand Bal (Aesthetical)

Posted on by
Reply

by Ben Hogwood

What’s the story?

Released back at the end of March, Grand Bal is the latest musical essay from producer Franck Vigroux, an artist who tends to like his music doing the talking.

The small paragraph he did allow into the ether confirms it. “I am not very talkative about my music unless I am specifically questioned,” he says, “the immaterial dimension of music partly spares us from the major questions which are the prerogative of theatrical forms for which I am also very active, in this sense for me music is a real outlet where things are done intuitively, for pleasure.”

What’s the music like?

Bold – and in some cases, brash. Vigroux is no shrinking violet on Grand Bal, and the chunky sounds are primary musical colours, with big bass sounds, long treble notes and plenty of white noise-based euphoria.

There is definitely a sense of being ‘off the leash’, allowing the music to forge its own white hot path, which it does unerringly. On headphones it can make you physically jump, the sheer power of the music pinning the listener up against an imaginary wall.

Yet on occasion it does go quiet, which only increases the foreboding. Le Bal does this brilliantly, turning the screw with exquisite tension and moving from sonorous calm to a blast of sonic energy, in the manner of a more aggressive Jean-Michel Jarre piece. Meanwhile the longer Lightnin’ builds over a cavernous structure, whereas the following 68 goes for the jugular straight away. The likes of Loïc and Vice add distinctive riffs or rhythmic profiles to give the music its momentum, while Outsider makes for a brooding, cinematic coda to the album.

Does it all work?

It does – but you certainly have to be in the right mood for Vigroux’s more aggressive assaults on the senses!

Is it recommended?

It is. Vigroux is a consistently interesting musical source to follow – and this latest shows off his capabilities as an impressive composer.

Listen & Buy

Published post no.2,205 – Monday 10 June 2024

A serenade for an early summer evening…

Posted on by
Reply

…in the form of an early work by Sir Edward Elgar. Here is his Serenade for Strings in E minor Op.20, performed by the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, conducted by Sir Charles Groves:

Published post no.2,204 – Sunday 9 June 2024

In concert – Katie Trethewey, University of Birmingham Voices, CBSO Chorus & Orchestra / Ludovic Morlot: John Luther Adams – Vespers of the Blessed Earth; Sibelius

Posted on by
Reply

Katie Tretheway (soprano), CBSO Chorus, University of Birmingham Voices, City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra / Ludovic Morlot

John Luther Adams Vespers of the Blessed Earth (2021) [CBSO co-commission: UK premiere]
Sibelius Symphony no.2 in D major Op.43 (1901-02)

Symphony Hall, Birmingham
Thursday 9 May 2024

Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse

Almost eight years ago, the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra and Ludovic Morlot gave the UK premiere of John Luther Adams’ Become Ocean. Tonight they, with the CBSO Chorus and University of Birmingham Voices, gave that of his most recent large-scale work.

It may have been obliquely inspired by Monteverdi, but Vespers of the Blessed Earth is very much a humanist response to those ecological challenges of the present and, to this end, its texts have a concreteness and functionality which is wholly at the service of the music. Thus A Brief Descent into Deep Time sets words as depict the (reverse) geological evolution of the Grand Canyon, its emotional matter-of-factness in contrast to A Weeping of Doves with its unaccompanied setting of the call of the Papuan fruit dove in what is one of Adams’ most ravishing inspirations. Hardly less affecting is Night-Shining Clouds – an interlude, in the form of a chaconne, for strings that follows what the composer calls a ‘sub-harmonic’ series with its slowly spiralling descent to the depths for a graphic evocation of cloudly pollutants.

The fourth and climactic section, Litanies of the Sixth Extinction divides the choruses into four parts which between them chant the names of species in the process of or likely to face extinction – closing ominously with Homo Sapiens. It was here that an antiphonal placing of strings and percussion, along with choirs of woodwind and brass placed along either side of the upper circle, came into its own but, typically for Adams, the effect was one of cumulative if not intensifying emotion. Aria of the Ghost Bird followed with its transcribed rendering of the call from the now-extinct Kaua’i O’ō, tonight taken by Katie Tretheway (above) in what was a finale of the gentlest eloquence. It duly remained for offstage flute and chimes, here placed up in the grand tier, to see this inconsistent while always absorbing work to its wistful close.

In his thoughtful introductory remarks, Morlot spoke of the appositeness when juxtaposing Adams with Sibelius and the latter’s Second Symphony, which followed the interval, made his point admirably. Once the most popular such piece by Sibelius (and, indeed, of the last century), latter-day performances too often fight shy of its innate rhetoric or overt emotion. Without being disengaged, this account succeeded because of its methodical trajectory, not least a first movement whose restraint was never at the expense of its overall incisiveness.

With its stark contrast between conflict and consolation, the slow movement can easily fall into overkill but not here – Morlot evincing a keen sense of cohesion through to its baleful ending. The scherzo likewise secured keen cohesion from its alternate energy and raptness, then its surging transition into the finale brought an emotional frisson maintained through to an apotheosis whose grandeur never felt self-conscious or overbearing. Whether the triumph expressed is cultural or personal, the underlying essence of its affirmation was not in doubt.

It certainly set the seal on a memorable evening – one that confirmed the undoubted rapport between orchestra and conductor, while bridging the conceptual divide and almost 120 years between these pieces. Hopefully the CBSO and Morlot will be working together again soon.

Click on the link to read more on the current CBSO concert season, and on the names for more on soprano Katie Trethewey, conductor Ludovic Morlot, the University of Birmingham Voices and the CBSO Chorus. Meanwhile you can click on the name for more on composer John Luther Adams

Published post no.2,203 – Saturday 8 June 2024