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In concert – Kirill Gerstein, BBCSO / Sakari Oramo: Bacewicz & Busoni @ Barbican Hall

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Kirill Gerstein (piano), BBC Symphony Chorus (lower voices), BBC Symphony Orchestra / Sakari Oramo

Bacewicz Symphony no.2 (1951)
Busoni Piano Concerto in C major Op. 39 (1901-04)

Barbican Hall, London
Friday 1 November 2024

Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse Pictures (c) BBC / Sarah-Louise Bennett

Wait years for a performance of Busoni’s Piano Concerto then (at least) two come (almost) at once. As 2024 sees the centenary of the composer’s death and it is much his largest work for the concert hall, this was doubtless to be expected though a welcome occurrence all the same.

Having first played it in Boston seven years ago (later released on Myrios), Kirill Gerstein (below) and Sakari Oramo were intent on utilizing an experience unusual in the context of this work. This was evident at the outset of its Prologo e introito – the long orchestral introduction having a cumulative impetus that carried into the soloist’s imposing entry, with this physicality finding contrast in the delicacy of passagework and the sensitivity of dialogue later in this movement. Nor was there any lack of capriciousness in a Pezzo giocoso whose more ambivalent asides pointedly underlined, and its more populist elements always integrated into the ongoing flow.

Centrepiece in every respect, Pezzo serioso made a memorable impression. The sombreness of its introduction complemented by the undulating poise of Gerstein’s playing in the ensuing barcarolle section, before a remorseless build up of intensity towards its central climax found piano and orchestra in true accord; the re-emergence of earlier themes of a pathos abetted by a conclusion whose gently insistent rhythmic undertow led to an ending of exquisite finesse.

Rarely can the All’italiana have conveyed such scintillating appeal at this headlong a tempo, making for a tarantella of infectious wit but one whose ever more daring flights of fancy never threatened to lose focus – the BBC Symphony Orchestra responded with unfailing conviction, while the climactic cadenza made for a seamless link into the Cantico. Here male voices, placed at the rear of the platform instead of offstage, assumed the musical foreground as this finale built in a rising arc of tension to an apotheosis of a triumph the more cathartic for its sense of release.

How Busoni’s epic work comes over in performance is in part determined by what has been heard earlier in the programme. Tonight’s concert got it just right with a rare hearing (at least in the UK) for the Second Symphony from Polish composer and violinist Grażyna Bacewicz.

Oramo (above) had previously given notice of his sympathy for her music via recordings of the Third and Fourth Symphonies (Chandos), and this performance did not disappoint. Playing for just over 20 minutes, the Second has a variety of incident and overall impact out of all proportion to its length – whether in the opening movement as this alternates between equivocation and resolve, the eloquence of a Lento in which Bacewicz’s orchestration is at its most resourceful, a Scherzo whose poetic asides never threatened to offset its prevailing vivacity, then a Finale that (as with Roussel’s Fourth Symphony which may have provided the model) ended almost too soon yet whose incisiveness always felt apposite to the whole. Throughout, Bacewicz was conscious of the implications of Socialist Realism while steering clear decisively of its values.

Hopefully this and Bacewicz’s First Symphony will be appearing in due course as a follow-up volume. For now, it gave ready enhancement to a concert whose enterprise and conviction are further proof, is such were needed, of that continued rapport between Oramo and the BBCSO.

For details on their 2024-25 season, head to the BBC Symphony Orchestra website. Click on the names to read more about pianist Kirill Gerstein, conductor Sakari Oramo and composer Grażyna Bacewicz

Published post no.2,351 – Sunday 3 November 2024

In concert – Sheku Kanneh-Mason, Sinfonia of London / John Wilson: Hesketh, Shostakovich & Rachmaninov @ Barbican Hall

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Sheku Kanneh-Mason (cello), Sinfonia of London / John Wilson

Hesketh PatterSongs (2008)
Shostakovich Cello Concerto no.2 in G major Op.126 (1966)
Rachmaninov Symphony no.1 in D minor Op.13 (1895-7)

Barbican Hall, London
Tuesday 15 October 2024

Reviewed by Ben Hogwood Picture (c) Mark Allan

This memorable concert enhanced the Sinfonia of London’s status as orchestral game changers. Conductor John Wilson re-established the ensemble in 2018 as a group taking on special projects, both in the studio for Chandos and in the concert hall. To date these have included early musicals, with Oklahoma! and Carousel in the bag, alongside top drawer recordings of orchestral works by Korngold, Ravel and Rachmaninov. The latter’s Symphony no.1, set down the previous week, completes a cycle of his symphonies.

Before that, we heard an orchestral tour de force from Kenneth Hesketh, fully established as a striking voice in British contemporary music. PatterSongs is a dense orchestral collage of music drawn from his opera The Overcoat, after Gogol. Its colourful score is decorated and ultimately dominated by the woodblock, part of a vibrant percussion section whose contributions bring the piece to theatrical life. They were brilliantly played here, as Wilson kept a tight grip on proceedings. With moods ranging from exuberant to grotesque, the sonics panned between slithering trombones, luscious strings and smoky, jazzy interludes with a slow drumkit. All contributed to the spirit of the dance in an ideal modern concert opener.

The Cello Concerto no.2 by Shostakovich offered a marked contrast. Sheku Kanneh-Mason has a special affinity with the composer’s music, having won the BBC Young Musician of the Year in 2016 with a performance of his first cello concerto. Since then he has also played the scarcely heard Cello Concerto by his contemporary and close friend Weinberg. The second concerto is a very different animal to the first, a private and often worrisome affair whose attempts at jollity and light-heartedness are compromised by music of latent menace. The personality of the concerto’s dedicatee, Mstislav Rostropovich, is never far from the music’s mind.

Kanneh-Mason and Wilson found the work’s qualities, if not its beating heart. This was down to a desire to push for faster tempi, their account not always pausing for breath where it might, as though the silence between notes might give something away. The first movement Largo was ideally pitched, questioning and with the occasional hint of a smile. Ultimately it succumbed to the brooding, omnipresent lower strings, who often finished the soloist’s sentences. The Allegro released this tension with impressive solo cadenzas from Kanneh-Mason, who inhabited the outbursts of energy but received the ideal complement in similar phrases from the outstanding horns (Chris Parkes and Jonathan Quaintrell-Evans), bassoons (Todd Gibson-Cornish and Angharad Thomas), timpani (Antoine Bedewi) and percussion (the superb quintet of Alex Neal, Owen Gunnell, Paul Stoneman, Fiona Ritchie and Elsa Bradley).

The transfer to the finale, while Allegretto as marked, felt breathless, the cello’s recurring sweep up to a top ‘B’ robbed of the room it needed for maximum impact. Similarly the macabre ticking of the percussion was clipped. In spite of this, however, Shostakovich’s feverish statement – direct from the sanatorium where he spent his sixtieth birthday – still made a profound impact. As a side note, how gratifying it was to see Kanneh-Mason, a gracious soloist, acknowledge the orchestral contributions mentioned above, before a well-chosen encore of Weinberg, the 18th of his 24 Preludes for solo cello.

Rachmaninov’s Symphony no.1 received a famously disastrous premiere in 1897, one that would affect its composer’s mental health for many years. Indeed he did not hear the work again in his life, the memory of its ragged and disrupted performance under an intoxicated Glazunov fuelling monumental bouts of self doubt. This account could hardly have been more different, John Wilson presiding over a performance of feverish intensity and white hot rhythmic precision. The Sinfonia of London were simply outstanding, led by a first violin section so fully invested in the music they were practically burning a hole in their musical scores!

Wilson clearly loves this piece, and as they set out the immediate drama of the first movement fugue the Sinfonia added clarity to their list of qualities. The silvery strings and rolling timpani of the Intermezzo were beautifully turned, Wilson heightening the connections with Tchaikovsky, whose Pathétique symphony predated this piece by just one year. It was possible to sense a passing of the baton between the two, such was the strength of feeling generated in this performance.

The slow movement had heavenly strings, its central section with increasingly fractious brass that dissolved with the return of the main theme, Wilson crouching towards the floor as he cajoled the strings to greater heights, with hints again of Tchaikovsky’s Romeo and Juliet.

Everything cut loose in the finale, a thrilling drive to the finish from the jubilant main theme to the crash of the gong at the end – where the percussion section were once again on top form, the full force of Rachmaninov’s orchestra laid bare. In these hands it was difficult to see how the first symphony could be perceived as anything other than a masterpiece, its lean structure supporting powerful emotions and meaningful tunes. Wilson and the Sinfonia of London had them all in spades, finishing a concert that will live long in the memory. My ears are still ringing!

You can find more information on further 2024 concerts of this program at the Sinfonia of London website

Published post no.2,333 – Wednesday 16 October 2024

In concert – Piotr Anderszewski @ The Barbican: Beethoven, Brahms, Bartók & J.S. Bach

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Piotr Anderszewski (piano, above)

Beethoven 6 Bagatelles, Op.126 (1823)
Brahms Intermezzos (1892-93) – Opp.119/1 & 3; Op.118/1 & 2; Op.117/2; 118/6
Bartók 14 Bagatelles BB50 (1908)
J.S. Bach Partita no.1 in B flat major BWV825 (1726)

Barbican Hall, London
Thursday 3 October 2024

Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse. Photo © MG de Saint Venant licenced to Virgin Classics

Expecting the unexpected is the most predictable aspect of a recital from Piotr Anderszewski, tonight’s programme no exception in its juxtaposing collection by Beethoven and Bartók with a selection from Brahms and music by Bach that has long been a cornerstone of his repertoire.

Alive to their iconoclastic flourishes and improvisatory asides, Beethoven’s last bagatelles yet emerged as a cohesive and integrated unity as it ventured through limpid musing and angular playfulness then disarming elegance before arriving at a propulsive take on the B minor Presto muscular or energetic by turns. The final two numbers were of a piece with what went before – the one understated and the other’s ingratiation bookended by outbursts of grating humour. Nothing to be taken for granted in this music, then, as Anderszewski intimated only too well.

Although published as four separate collections, there is no reason why Brahms’s late piano pieces cannot be given separately or in autonomous groupings as here. Starting with Op. 119, Anderszewski brought a confiding touch to the plaintive B minor Intermezzo and rendered the lilting syncopation of that in C with real playfulness. Turning next to Op. 118 and the forlorn quality of its A minor Intermezzo complemented ably that in A, whose new-found popularity need not detract from its harmonic subtlety or soulful poise. From Op. 117, the B flat minor Intermezzo struck note of ingrained fatalism intensified by that in E flat minor from Op. 118 – its ‘mesto’ marking here underlined as the music unfolded toward an endpoint of unforced resignation. Anderszewski looked regretful it should end so before duly leaving the platform.

As his recent recording confirms, Anderszewski has forged unerring identity with the Op. 6 Bagatelles where Bartók gave notice of his fast-emerging individuality. Played with minimal pauses (albeit with a 3-3-2-2-2-2 grouping such as brought these into line with the six pieces in each of those other sets), they offer a conspectus of possibilities over his ensuing creative decade that was to the fore here, alongside a cumulative focus evident less in any increasing technical demands as in a gradual opening-out of their emotional world made explicit in the final two numbers as doubtless stems from Bartók’s unrequited love for violinist Stefi Geyer. Thus, the sombre restlessness of Elle est morte merged directly into the valse Ma mie qui danse – this latter’s vicious irony maintained right through to its almost dismissive pay-off.

Had Bach ever entertained any such feelings, they were certainly far removed from the keen objectivity of his First Partita. A little restive in its Praeludium, Anderszewski hit his stride in its gently eddying Allemande then animated Courante. There was no lack of gravitas in its Sarabande, but this was as deftly inflected as was the elegance of its contrasted Menuet dances, then the Gigue made a dextrous yet assertive conclusion to a sequence where (as in everything heard tonight) what was made possible outweighs what had already been achieved.

It would have been possible to combine these works with other pieces – maybe some or even all of Ligeti’s Musica ricercata that Anderszewski will hopefully play at a future recital. For now, a limpid reading of Chopin’s Mazurka in A flat major (Op.58/2) made for an ideal envoi.

To read more on Piotr Anderszewski, visit his website

Published post no.2,321 – Friday 4 October 2024

In concert – BBC Symphony Orchestra / Sakari Oramo: Mahler Symphony no.6

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BBC Symphony Orchestra / Sakari Oramo (above)

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

Barbican Hall, London
Thursday 26 September 2024

Having just extended his contract with the BBC Symphony Orchestra until 2030, which at 17 years will make him its longest serving chief conductor after Sir Adrian Boult, Sakari Oramo began the new season with this frequently impressive account of Mahler’s Sixth Symphony.

Impressive but equally unpredictable – not least in an opening movement whose tensility and even terseness was emphasized by mostly swift tempos and the nowadays rare omission of its exposition repeat, which predicated martial aggressiveness over any more yielding expression. There was no lack of deftness in the central interlude, for all that the off-stage cowbells were distinctly unevocative in their tinkling, yet the developmental passages either side exuded an unwavering purposefulness so that the arrival of the reprise more than usually made its mark. Stealthily launched, the coda duly emerged rather than burst forth though this was audibly in accord with the ambivalence of its affirmation as Oramo perceived it. Those closing bars had no lack of finality, for all that there was more of ruthlessness than joyousness in their arrival.

Speaking recently, Oramo stated his conviction in the revised order of the central movements with the Scherzo placed second. He might profitably have headed into this without pause, as to underline the consistency of rhythmic profile with what went before, but there was no hint of inflexibility here or in the trio sections which effortlessly elided between the winsome and sardonic. Equally in evidence was that fatalistic sense pervading the music as it unfolds, and so made possible a coda whose evanescent poise could not conceal more ominous portents.

From this vantage, the Andante provided if not balm to the soul, then a measure of unforced pathos. Enticingly rendered with some notably felicitous playing by the BBCSO woodwind, it was shaped by Oramo with unerring rightness through to a climax whose emotional force was the greater for its being held in check. Surprising that this movement has never attained the popularity of the Adagietto from the Fifth Symphony: then again, its salient qualities are conveyed even more completely when experienced within the context of the work as a whole.

By a similar token, it arguably matters less in what order the middle movements are played if the finale proves a culmination in all respects. That it certainly was here – Oramo imbuing its lengthy introduction with acute expectancy balanced by the visceral impact of what followed. Nor did tension fall off in those quiet but eventful interludes, strategically placed between the larger formal sections, and in which cowbells are overlaid by tubular bells for what became a haze of resonance as affecting as any more demonstrative expression elsewhere. Oramo also restored that third hammer-blow which does not so much alter the course of this movement, as confirm its resignation before fate in even more graphic terms. Nothing could have sounded more matter of fact than the baleful rumination of brass prior to that explosive closing gesture. While not the most inclusive performance, this was undoubtedly one to renew admiration in the audacity of Mahler’s conception or his conviction in bringing it off. It also gave notice of continued rapport between Oramo and the BBCSO as they begin their 12th season together.

For more on their 2024/25 season head to the BBC Symphony Orchestra website – and click here to read more on their chief conductor Sakari Oramo

Published post no.2,315 – Saturday 28 September 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