by Ben Hogwood Picture by Sl-Ziga, used from Wikipedia
Last week we learned of the sad news that Russian composer Rodion Shchedrin had died at the age of 92. You can read a brief obituary of him at the Guardian website.
Shchedrin was a colourful orchestrator, and my occasional encounters with his music were rarely less than entertaining. One that particularly stands out was his Piano Concerto no.4, a broad canvas of dazzling virtuosity and exotic harmonies.
Meanwhile on record the orchestral colour is always evident in his Carmen Suite ballet, an arrangement and enhancement of Bizet’s music with percussion to the fore. His Concertos for Orchestra are also full of original thoughts, while the ballet Anna Karenina – an illuminating score – is a standout work, written for his ballerina wife Maya Plisetskaya (above, with Shchedrin).
The playlist below brings the first Concerto for Orchestra, Naughty Limericks, as an overture to the Piano Concerto no.4 and the Carmen Suite. Added to that is the Anna Karenina ballet in full.
Opera in Four Acts (Nine Scenes) Music by Dmitri Shostakovich Libretto by Alaxander Preys and the composer after the novella by Nikolai Leskov English translation by David Poutney Semi-staged performance, sung in English with English surtitles
Katerina – Amanda Majeski (soprano); Boris/Ghost of Boris – Brindley Sherratt (bass); Zinovy – John Findon (tenor); Mill-hand/Priest – Thomas Mole (baritone); Sergey – Nicky Spence (tenor); Aksinya/Convict – Ava Dodd (soprano); Shabby Peasant – Ronald Samm (tenor); Steward – Alaric Green (baritone); Police Sergeant – Chuma Sijeqa (baritone); Teacher – William Morgan (tenor); Old Convict – Sir Willard White (bass-baritone); Sonyetka – Niamh O’Sullivan (mezzo-soprano)
BBC Singers, Chorus of English National Opera, Brass Section of English National Opera, BBC Philharmonic Orchestra / John Storgårds
Ruth Knight (director)
Royal Albert Hall, London Monday 1 September 2025
Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse Photos (c) BBC / Andy Paradise
In this 50th anniversary year of Shostakovich’s death it made sense for the Proms to schedule Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk, his second and final completed opera, in a performance reminding one of English National Opera’s commitment to this work stretching back almost four decades.
In scenic terms, the semi-staging directed by Ruth Knight was little more than a gloss on what was heard. Its framing device of the heroine in the witness box now seems a tired device that served little purpose, and the emergence of a bed at rear of the platform as a focus for sexual activity had surely passed its sell-by date at the end of the David Poutney era. More effective was the use of lighting to accentuate dramatic highpoints; incidentally reminding one such a procedure had come of age around the time that Shostakovich’s opera first appeared on stage.
Vocally this was a mixed bag. No-one could accuse Amanda Majeski of lacking presence or, moreover, eloquence in her assumption of the title-role, yet her emotional aloofness made her seem not so much distinct as overly detached from the wretched circumstances all around her. Brindley Sharatt was a shoo-in for Boris, his boorishness yet evincing a cunning intelligence who easily held the stage – not least his latter ‘ghost’ incarnation. Nicky Spence was vocally assured but dramatically two-dimensional as Sergey and, as Zinovy, John Findon resembled more a provincial critic than a merchant, though Thomas Mole made a lively contribution as a dipsomaniac Priest with Chuma Sijeqa uproarious as the Police Sergeant. His cameo as an Old Convict found Sir Willard White in gratifyingly fine voice near the end of his eighth decade.
Smaller roles were generally well taken, not least Ava Dodd’s hapless Aksinya and Niamh O’ Sullivan’s scheming Sonyetka, while the ENO Chorus lacked little in forcefulness or clarity of diction, though this latter might have been felt a drawback given the frequent contrivance of Poutney’s translation – which has not aged well. Otherwise, this was very much the BBC Philharmonic Orchestra and John Storgårds’s show. Having impressed with Shostakovich symphonies over recent seasons, the latter had a sure grasp of this opera’s dramatic unfolding and paced it accordingly. No stranger to this composer’s music, his orchestra was as responsive to the seismic climaxes (suitably abetted by ENO brass) as to passages of mesmeric introspection which, in many respects, prefigure the composer Shostakovich was increasingly to become.
It has often been claimed that, had his fortunes not reversed so dramatically as on that fateful evening of 26th January 1936, Shostakovich would have continued upon his path as an opera composer. Yet there is a nagging sense that, whatever its theatrical potency, Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk is intrinsically no more than the sum of its best parts. Leaving aside the intermittent success of his and Alexander Freys’ remodelling of Nikolai Leskov’s ‘shabby little shocker’, dramatic characterization frequently seems to have been laminated onto its musical context.
If tonight’s performance never entirely banished these thoughts, it certainly gave this opera its head in what was a memorable night for orchestra, conductor and, for the ENO contingent, an impressive bowing-out as it prepares for the next phase of its existence – based in Manchester.
Peter Moore (trombone), London Symphony Orchestra / Ryan Bancroft
Vaughan Williams English Folk Song Suite (1923) Schuller Eine kleine Posaunenmusik (1980) [Proms premiere] Tippett Triumph (1992) [Proms premiere] Arnold arr. Johnstone English Dances Set 1 Op.27 (1950, arr. 1965) Grainger The Lads of Wamphray (1904), Country Gardens (1918, arr. 1953), Lincolnshire Posy (1937)
Royal Albert Hall, London Saturday 30 August 2025 11am
Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse Photos (c) BBC / Chris Christodoulou
His pained countenance may have adorned its programme cover but Sir Simon Rattle’s ‘routine surgery’ meant this morning’s Prom was directed by Ryan Bancroft, though the works played by woodwind and brass (and basses) of the London Symphony Orchestra remained the same.
The concert duly breezed into life with Vaughan Williams’ English Folksong Suite, heard in its original scoring for concert (i.e. – military) band such as imparts a forthright impetus to its outer marches – the former alternating brusqueness with insouciance, and the latter similarly balancing energy with geniality. In between these, the intermezzo provided welcome respite with its soulful medley. Expert as are the arrangements for orchestra by Gordon Jabob or for brass band by Frank Wright, this remains the ideal medium for an unassuming masterpiece.
It would have been remiss of the Proms not to include a piece by Gunther Schuller in the year of his centenary, with Eine Kleine Posaunenmusik being a fine choice in context. Fastidiously scored for trombone and ensemble, whose wind and brass melded into tuned percussion with notable solos from piano and harpsichord, its five succinct movements outline a succession of vignettes in which Peter Moore sounded as attuned expressively as technically. With music as distinctive as this, Schuller’s fourth appearance at these concerts will hopefully not be his last.
Surprising that Michael Tippett’s Triumph should have remained so obscure within his output. Seemingly made during work on The Rose Lake, this ‘Paraphrase on Music from The Mask of Time’ is for the greater part his arrangement of the oratorio’s sixth movement, though it could be heard as encapsulating his music over the decade from the mid-’70s. The main portion pits fractured lyricism against dissonant outbursts as befits its genesis in a setting of Shelley’s The Triumph of Life and, if the closing affirmation sounds added-on, its finality is hardly in doubt.
There could hardly have been a more pointed contrast than with Malcolm Arnold’s initial set of English Dances – its sequence of winsome, bracing, elegiac then energetic numbers ideally conveyed in Maurice Johnstone’s arrangement. Their concision was thrown into relief by the relative garrulousness of The Lads of Wamphray, an early example of Percy Grainger’s love for folksong which, in this instance, rather outstays its welcome. Rattle presumably enjoys it and Bancroft gave it its head, but its inclusion here was not warranted by its musical quality.
From the other end of Grainger’s career, his concert-band arrangement of Country Gardens exudes all the wit and irony of his later creativity. It made a canny upbeat into Lincolnshire Posy, one of a select handful of concert band masterpieces and where the LSO gave its all. Thus, the incisive Lisbon (Dublin Bay) was followed by the pathos-drenched Horkstow Grange then intricately imaginative Rufford Park Poachers; the jaunty The Brisk Young Sailor by the darkly rhetorical Lord Melbourne (very different from Britten’s elegiac take).
The surging impetus of The Lost Lady Found brought to a suitably rousing close this suite and what was a fine showcase for the LSO woodwind and brass, an unexpected if welcome appearance by Bancroft and, above all, a demonstration of the potential of the concert band.
Khatia Buniatishvili (piano), Melbourne Symphony Orchestra / Jaime Martin
Sutherland Haunted Hills (1950) [Proms premiere] Tchaikovsky Piano Concerto no.1 in B flat minor Op.23 (1874-5) Dvořák Symphony no.6 in D major Op.60 (1880)
Royal Albert Hall, London Friday 29 August 2025
Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse Photos (c) BBC / Chris Christodoulou
Eleven years after its well-received debut at these concerts under the late Sir Andrew Davis, the Melbourne Symphony Orchestra made its unintentionally eventful return with current chief conductor Jaime Martin and a programme which, for the most part, played to this orchestra’s strengths.
A significant presence in Australian music throughout the mid-twentieth century, Margaret Sutherland has yet to receive her due in live or recorded terms; making this performance of Haunted Hills the more timely. Inspired by the Dandenong Ranges, just outside Melbourne, her symphonic poem evokes the timelessness of its environment as surely as the fate of the Aboriginals who came there. Its starkly dissonant opening then granitic opening paragraph recall that Vaughan Williams’ Sixth Symphony had been unleashed barely two years earlier, and while much of what follows is notable more for its judicious orchestration than formal cohesion, the musical persona that finally emerges is distinctive enough to warrant further hearings of this piece within the context of Sutherland’s not inconsiderable output overall.
Logistical factors necessitated a reordering such that Dvořák’s Sixth Symphony came before the interval. Not a stranger to these concerts (tonight’s being its ninth hearing in 72 years), it responded well to Martin’s interventionist if rarely intrusive approach – not least an opening Allegro (its non tanto duly observed albeit with no exposition repeat) at its most persuasive in a development whose seeming discursiveness was purposefully reined in, and on to a coda whose heightened sense of arrival was mitigated only by those slightly tentative closing bars.
Not the deepest among Dvořák’s symphonic slow movements, the Adagio is surely his most felicitous in its expressive shadings and emotional understatement. Martin made the most of these, as too the contrast between the Scherzo’s impetuous outer sections and its ingratiating trio. The surging acceleration at its close prepared unerringly, moreover, for a Finale as finds Dvořák at his most Brahmsian though, here again, Martin (above), steered a forthright course through its overly rhetorical development before he infused its coda with an exhilarating affirmation.
Tchaikovsky’s First Piano Concerto cannot often have occupied the second half of a concert, though Khatia Buniatishvili made the most of her delayed appearance. Most striking was the amount of hushed playing during a lengthy opening movement whose indelible introduction was kept well within emotional limits. If coordination between soloist and orchestra was not all it might have been, the latter’s entry after a suitably dextrous cadenza was an undoubted highpoint, though not a rather blowsy coda. A melting take on the Andantino was enhanced with poetic contributions from flautist Prudence Davis and cellist David Berlin – while if, in the final Allegro, Buniatishvili’s passagework could seem unnecessarily skittish, she and the Melbourne players came together admirably in a surging but not unduly bathetic peroration.
As to extra-musical occurrences at this concert (for a full BBC account, read here), these artists responded simply by focussing on the music. As an envoi, Buniatishvili’s elegant rendering of the Adagio from Alessandro Marcello’s Oboe Concerto in D minor, arranged by Johann Sebastian Bach, could not have been more fitting.
The Silberland series from Hamburg label Bureau B has looked at Kosmische Musik and The Driving Side Of Kosmische Musik in previous volumes, covering electronic music from 1974 to 1984. This third instalment casts the net a little wider, unearthing pioneers of ambient music from as far back as 1972.
There are some familiar names among the tracklisting – Brian Eno, Moebius, Roedelius, Faust, Conrad Schnitzler to pick just a few – but Bureau B have cast the net wider still, in their words “coasting far beyond the familiar rhythmic terrain to explore crystal caverns and emerald pastures, immersing listeners in the ambient side of this alternative Allemagne. Building on the tape loops, tone poems, and minimalist compositions of the 60’s avant-garde, these musicians utilised the sweeping scope of the synthesiser to create expansive meditations on outer-planetary escapism, human connection, and the natural world. This compilation offers a survey of this singular era, blending pioneering voices with lesser-known artists for an immersive sonic experience.”
What’s the music like?
Ambient, of course – but full of bubbling creativity too, and intelligently structured. There is a lot to learn here for the intrepid musical explorer, while the big names are a reliable draw for those approaching cold.
Many of these pieces balance a broad ambient canvas with foreground activity, to really good effect – and with the indication that more classical composers such as Steve Reich or Philip Glass were providing subtle inspiration in the background. Roedelius, an original, balances a serene upper line above lightly pulsing activity in Veilchenwurzeln. Hope Is The Answer gurgles approvingly under the watchful eye of Rolf Trostel, as does Conrad Schnitzler‘s Electric Garden, while Serge Blenner‘s Phrase IV explores a kind of cosmic minimalism.
What also impresses greatly here is the sonic range of the label’s choices, with the soft-grained, guitar-led Tedan a rather beautiful addition from Lapre. The wispy trails of Riechmann‘s Abendlicht paint an evocative pictures, reassuring in their consonant harmonies – as is the regular pulse of Per Aspera Ad Astra, a reassuring beacon in the hands of Adelbert Von Deyen. Moebius and Plank explore slow, dubby terrain through Nordöstliches Gefühl, in contrast to the restful Southland from Rüdiger Lorenz.
Does it all work?
It does – with repeat plays rewarded handsomely, the detail just above the broad ambience of a lot of these tracks revealing more with every turn.
Is it recommended?
Wholeheartedly – an essential purchase for anyone interested in electronic music from the 1970s and 1980s. Silberland vol.3 is a highly enjoyable and occasionally quirky on a genre that has grown to become one of the most active and creative areas in music today.
Arcana.fm 