In concert – Lukas Sternath, BBC Singers, Symphony Chorus & Orchestra / Sakari Oramo @ BBC Proms: Bliss ‘The Beatitudes’, Grieg & Gipps

Lukas Sternath (piano), Elizabeth Watts (soprano), Laurence Kilsby (tenor), BBC Singers, BBC Symphony Chorus, BBC Symphony Orchestra / Sakari Oramo

Gipps Death on the Pale Horse Op.25 (1943) [Proms premiere]
Grieg Piano Concerto in A minor Op.16 (1868 rev.1907)
Bliss The Beatitudes F28 (1961)

Royal Albert Hall, London
Sunday 7 September 2025

Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse Photos (c) BBC / Chris Christodoulou

This evening’s Prom – launching the final week of the present season – was billed as ‘Grieg’s Piano Concerto’, no doubt the reason why many in the audience were attending while hardly being the most interesting aspect of a typically adventurous programme from Sakari Oramo.

In the event the Grieg received a responsive reading from Lukas Sternath (below, with Oramo), the Viennese pianist who, still in his mid-20s, was most at home in more inward passages. The second theme of the initial Allegro was enticingly taken up after a heartfelt rendering by cellos, as was the Adagio’s eloquent melody and that first emerging in the finale on flute, where it was soulfully rendered by Daniel Pailthorpe. Nor were the more demonstrative aspects underplayed – Sternath having the measure of a cadenza whose mounting rhetoric was pointedly reined-in, while the finale’s outer sections were incisively inflected prior to an apotheosis which felt the more exhilarating through its absence of bathos. A melting take on Richard Strauss’ early song Morgen!, transcribed with enviable poise by Max Reger, served to reinforce Sternath’s formidable pianistic credentials.

The 50th anniversary year of Sir Arthur Bliss’s death has seen a gratifying number of revivals, few more significant than that of The Beatitudes. The misfortune of its premiere having been moved from Coventry’s new Cathedral to its Belgrade Theatre, thus freeing up rehearsal time for Britten’s War Requiem, rather condemned it as an also-ran from the outset. Yet Bliss had created a piece unerringly suited for the consecration in what, in itself, remains an impressive conception. Unfolding as 14 short sections which can be grouped into six larger movements, this is less a cantata than a choral symphony. Setting all nine Beatitudes, Bliss none the less merged several of these and interspersed them with settings from three 17th-century and one 20th-century ‘metaphysical’ poets to commemorate the past from the vantage of the present.

The texts, drawn from Henry Vaughan, George Herbert and Jeremy Taylor, anticipate a future redemption – as, more ambivalently, does Dylan Thomas in And death shall have dominion which builds implacably to the climactic Ninth Beatitude and Voices of the Mob prior to the hard-won serenity of the Epilogue. That The Beatitudes has enjoyed relatively few revivals is less to do with its intrinsic quality than the demands of its choral writing, to which the BBC Symphony Chorus and BBC Singers did notable justice. Elizabeth Watts responded with real sensitivity and perception to some radiant soprano writing and while Laurence Kilsby was a little effortful in the more demonstrative passages, he brought conviction to a tenor role both fervent and compassionate. Nor did Richard Pearce disappoint with his extensive organ part.

Oramo paced the 50-minute entity superbly as to make one hope he will tackle more works by Bliss – not least the masterly Meditations on a Theme by John Blow, which has inexplicably fallen through the net this year. He had started tonight’s concert with a most welcome revival for Death on the Pale Horse – the succinctly eventful tone poem by Ruth Gipps which, while it might not capture the visceral drama of Blake’s eponymous engraving, distils an evocative atmosphere from pithy initial ideas that audibly reflects the circumstances of its composition.

Click on the artist names to read more about soloists Elizabeth Watts, Laurence Kilsby and Lukas Sternath, the BBC Singers, BBC Symphony Chorus and BBC Symphony Orchestra, and their conductor Sakari Oramo. You can also click to read more about composers Arthur Bliss, Ruth Gipps and the BBC Proms

Published post no.2,652 – Tuesday 9 September 2025

In concert – Soloists, London Philharmonic Choir, BBC Symphony Chorus & Orchestra / Sir Mark Elder @ BBC Proms: Delius: A Mass of Life

Jennifer Davis (soprano), Claudia Huckle (mezzo-soprano), David Butt Philip (tenor), Roderick Williams (baritone), BBC Symphony Chorus, London Philharmonic Choir, BBC Symphony Orchestra / Sir Mark Elder

Delius Eine Messe des Lebens (A Mass of Life) (1898; 1904-05)

Royal Albert Hall, London
Monday 18 August 2025

Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse Photos (c) BBC / Chris Christodoulou

There could be few venues better suited to Delius’s A Mass of Life, in its conceptual ambition and emotional opulence, than the Royal Albert Hall and this evening’s performance, only the third at these concerts and the first in 37 years, undoubtedly made the most of these qualities.

Despite the tragedy of his ultimate breakdown and ensuing incapacitation, Friedrich Nietzsche was considered a liberator in terms of a guiding philosophy with its emphasis on free will and rejection of conventional mores. Such appeal could hardly have been greater than on Frederick Delius, his largest concert work setting substantial extracts from Also sprach Zarathustra in a way that feels never judgemental and is only rarely overreaching. Much of the time its music has a detached and meditative aura whose inward intensity needs to be sustained accordingly.

That this account did so was owing to Sir Mark Elder, his advocacy already manifest in the finest modern recording (LAWO) as came across just as strongly and often more so here. Certainly, the longest sections were effortlessly paced – whether that beguiling interplay of longing and anticipation in In dein Auge which becomes the still (while never static) centre of Part One, or that extended sequence of Part Two taking in the scenic evocation as is Lasst vom Tanzen ab then the pantheist contemplation of Heisser Mittag schläft which is surely the expressive highpoint. Not that the dramatic openings of each part were under-characterized – the driving energy of O du mein Wille! setting the course for one as vividly as did the rousing Herauf! Nun herauf, with its orchestral prelude Auf den Bergen meltingly rendered, for the other.

This may be regarded mainly as a choral work, but the importance of its vocal parts is never to be gainsaid. Above all, that of the baritone who assumes the role of Zarathustra in his gradual incline to enlightenment and in which Roderick Williams (above) was consistently at his best – hence the infectious Erhebt eure Herzen and assertive Wehe mir! then, subsequently, the alluring eloquence of Süsse Leier! and will to action of Gottes Weh ist tiefer. If this is the solo role as brings focus or unity to the whole, the others afford textural and expressive enhancements aplenty – Jennifer Davis as capricious and Claudia Huckle as confiding as David Butt Philip was assertive in their respective contributions. All three singers brought out the youthfulness or naivety which are crucial to this work’s underlying journey from innocence to experience.

Any doubt a relative disparity in numbers of female and male singers would be detrimental to choral balance was groundless – Elder drawing a vividness but also delicacy of response from those combined BBC Symphony and London Philharmonic forces, while the BBC Symphony Orchestra was rarely less than galvanized whether in complex tuttis or the artless writing for solo woodwind that informs the latter stages. Delius’s orchestration rarely ‘plays itself’ but it conveys a lustre and translucency which could not be mistaken for that of another composer.

A near-capacity audience seemed as attentive to this as it was affected by the final Kommt! Lasst uns jetzt wandeln!, with its build-up to an ecstatic apotheosis then swift dispersal into silence: setting the seal on a memorable interpretation of this all-encompassing masterpiece.

You can listen back to this Prom concert on BBC Sounds until Sunday 12 October – or listen to the recent recording from Sir Mark Elder, with soloists, the Collegium Musicum Choir, Edvard Grieg Kor, Bergen Philharmonic Choir and Orchestra on Tidal below:

Click on the artist names to read more about soloists Jennifer Davis, Claude Huckle, David Butt Philip and Roderick Williams, the London Philharmonic Choir, BBC Symphony Chorus and BBC Symphony Orchestra, and conductor Sir Mark Elder. Click also for more on the Delius Society and the BBC Proms

Published post no.2,632 – Wednesday 20 August 2025

In concert – Soloists, BBC Symphony Chorus & Orchestra / Hannu Lintu @ BBC Proms: Mahler Das klagende Lied & Boulez Rituel in memoriam Bruno Maderna

Natalya Romaniw (soprano), Jennifer Johnston (mezzo-soprano), Russell Thomas (tenor), James Newby (baritone) Carlos González Nápoles (treble), Malakai Bayoh (alto), Constanza Chorus, BBC Symphony Chorus, BBC Symphony Orchestra / Hannu Lintu

Boulez Rituel in memoriam Bruno Maderna (1974-75)
Mahler Das klagende Lied (1878-80)

Royal Albert Hall, London
Tuesday 4 August 2025

Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse Photos (c) BBC Proms (from the festival’s uncredited Facebook upload)

Boulez and Mahler may not seem an obvious coupling, until one recalls the would have-been centenarian regularly conducted all the latter’s major works including that heard tonight – as well having made the first recording of its original three-part version more than 55 years ago.

When it appeared in 1975, Rituel in memoriam Bruno Maderna was thought something of an anomaly in Boulez’s output – its hieratic aura and structural (if never literal) use of repetition a homage more to his teacher Messiaen than his late colleague who, revealingly perhaps, had grown disenchanted in the avant-garde project of the post-war era. To which this work might seem an envoi – one eschewing any trace of nostalgia as it pursues its inevitable course from the response of the individual to that of the collective then (almost) returning to the singular.

Outwardly Rituel unfolds a series of litanies from one to seven players and refrains for a 14-piece brass ensemble, but such distinctions increasingly merge towards its mid-point so that its latter half is an intricate mesh of overlaid textures, moving around those groups arrayed on stage. Maintaining audible balance is crucial – in which respect, Hannu Lintu succeeded admirably, as in pacing the overall sequence (memory recalls Boulez as opting for a discreet acceleration across the later stages) so its ending conveyed arrival though hardly fulfilment.

What marked a crucial juncture for Boulez was no less evident, almost a century before, for Mahler. The virtual absence of any previous music only makes Das klagende Lied the more remarkable for conveying the essence of what its composer, barely out of his teens, went on to achieve. At this time, he aspired to opera and though this cantata was never envisaged for staging, its scenic evocation and its dramatic immediacy suggest that, had he been awarded the 1881 Beethoven Prize for his entry, his creative priorities could have been very different.

The work has fared well at the Proms, this being its seventh hearing and the third to use the edition of the original version that restores the first of its three parts and enables the latter to be heard as conceived, thereby making musical as well as dramatic sense. A leisurely course through Waldmärchen enabled Lintu to highlight the motivic richness of its prelude, and if the alternation of solo verses with choral refrains felt a little stolid, the latter stages with the discovery of the flower, the fratricide and a desolate postlude were consummately rendered.

With its anticipations of later Mahler (via Wagner and Bruckner), Der Spielmann is the most characteristic part as it pivots deftly yet pointedly between genial whimsy and ominous dread. That this latter gains the upper hand with discovery of the ‘singing bone’ is offset by the blaze of glory with which Hochzeitstück begins; the offstage orchestra – head to advantage in the gallery – underpinning an increasingly desperate course of events as the fratricide is revealed and the wedding descends into mayhem, with deathly stillness pervading those final minutes.

There was some persuasive solo singing, notably Jennifer Johnston who carries the primary narrative thread; Russell Thomas was fervent if slightly strained and James Newby warmly eloquent, with Natalya Romaniw conveying real dramatic acuity. Treble and alto roles were poignantly taken, while Lintu drew an assured response from sizable choral and orchestral forces – the latter’s quartet of harps assuming a concertante role in an orchestration whose encompassing of dramatic impetus and intimate reflection is already that of Mahler alone.

Playing for around 70 minutes, Das klagende Lied seems as rich in incident as any Mahler symphony; not all of which, whatever their greater stylistic assurance or maturity, feature a conclusion as spine-tingling as this – and one which certainly drove its point across tonight.

You can listen back to this Prom concert on BBC Sounds until Sunday 12 October – or listen to recordings of the two works conducted by Pierre Boulez on Tidal here

Click on the artist names to read more about the Constanza Chorus, BBC Symphony Chorus and BBC Symphony Orchestra, conductor Hannu Lintu and soloists Natalya Romaniw, Jennifer Johnston, Russell Thomas and James Newby. Click also for more on the BBC Proms

Published post no.2,617 – Tuesday 5 August 2025

On Record – BBC SSO & BBC SO / Sir Andrew Davis – Naresh Sohal: The Wanderer & Asht Prahar (Heritage)

Naresh Sohal
Asht Pradar (1965)
The Wanderer (1982)

Jane Manning (soprano), BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra (Asht Pradar), David Wilson-Johnson (baritone), BBC Symphony Chorus and Orchestra (The Wanderer) / Sir Andrew Davis

Heritage HTGCD135 [77’36”] English text included
Remastering Engineer Paul Arden-Taylor

Broadcast performance from BBC Studios, Glasgow on 6 January 1973 (Asht Pradar); live performance from Royal Albert Hall, London on 23 August 1982 (The Wanderer)

Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse

What’s the story?

Heritage issues what will evidently be an ongoing series of archival releases devoted to the music of Naresh Sohal, taken from BBC sources and featuring performers who championed his work over a career whose achievement is not reflected in the availability of recordings.

What’s the music like?

Although he came belatedly to the UK, Sohal (1939-2018) rapidly made up for any lost time when arriving in London in 1962 (further biographical detail can be found in the booklet note for this release and on the composer’s website). Within three years, he had produced his first major (and latterly his first acknowledged) work. Asht Prahar then had to wait until 1970 for its premiere (at the Royal Festival Hall conducted by Norman Del Mar), but it attracted much favourable attention and led to another hearing three years on – the performance featured here.

Taking its cue from the Indian sub-division of the day into eight temporal units (four each for day and night), Asht Prahar unfolds its eight sections as an unbroken continuity. The sizable forces are, for the most part, used sparingly yet resourcefully; as too the deployment of such devices as quarter-tones, along with influences of Ravel and Stravinsky, in music that makes a virtue of its pivoting between East and West. Cyclical if not necessarily cumulative, its final and longest ‘prahar’ brings wordless soprano and orchestra into tangible and haunting accord.

By the time that The Wanderer received its premiere, Sohal had a number of major works to his credit and rationalized his musical idiom accordingly. Setting an anonymous Anglo-Saxon poem in which the male protagonist speaks movingly and often despairingly of his isolation – both physical and spiritual – after the death of his lord, the work divides into two large parts that expand on the narrative’s emotional import. Such ‘‘existential bleakness’’ is intensified by omission of the poem’s last lines with their invoking a specifically Christian consolation. Despite its more than 50-minute duration, there is nothing discursive or unfocussed about The Wanderer’s content. Much of its text is understandably allotted to the baritone, whose austere character is complemented by darkly rhetorical choral passages while offset by an orchestral component with much soloistic writing (notably for flute) in a texture the more involving for its restraint and its strategic use of colour to define specific incidents or emotional responses. Nor is this an opera-manqué, the work succeeding admirably on its inherently abstract terms.

Does it all work?

It does, allowing for the fact that Sohal is not seeking any overt fusion between Occident and Orient, but rather attempting to forge a personal idiom influenced by both while beholden to neither. Both these performances bear out his convictions, Jane Manning adding her ethereal presence to Asht Prahar and David Wilson-Johnson bringing evident compassion to his more substantial role in The Wanderer. Both works benefit from the insightful presence of the late Sir Andrew Davis, whom one regrets never had an opportunity to record them commercially.

Is it recommended?

It is. The sound of these broadcasts has come up decently in remastering, lacking only the last degree of clarity or definition, and Suddhaseel Sen contributes informative annotations. Those looking for a way into Sohal’s distinctive and alluring sound-world need no further incentive.

Listen & Buy

For purchase options, you can visit the Heritage Records website

Published post no.2,451 – Thursday 20 February 2025

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

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