Chiara Skerath (soprano), The Mozartists / Ian Page
Kraus Symphony in C minor VB142
Gluck Dieux puissants que j’atteste…Jupiter, lance la foundre (from Iphigénie en Aulide)
Jammelli Ombre che tacite qui sede (from Fetante)
Mozart Vorrei punirti, indegno (from La finta giardiniera K196)
Traetta Ombra cara, amorosa…li resti sempre a piangere (from Antigona)
Haydn Amore nel moi petto (from Lo Speziale)
Haydn Symphony no.45 in F# minor ‘Farewell’
Wigmore Hall, London
Thursday 24 September 7:30pm
Reviewed by Ben Hogwood Picture of Chiara Skerath (c) Capucine de Chocqueuse
Ian Page and The Mozartists continued their remarkable and revealing turning over of scores from the 18th century at the Wigmore Hall. Their exploration of Sturm and Drang marked 250 years’ use of the phrase, since title of a play by the German Friedrich Maximilian von Klinger – and also the Mozartists’ fourth album exploring music written in this feverish mood.
Three of the composers here are virtually unknown today, while Haydn – whose Farewell symphony closed the program – is the one most associated with the phrase. More of him later, for the early part of the concert belonged to Joseph Martin Kraus. The Frankfurt-born composer, who relocated to Sweden in 1778, wrote a Symphony in C minor of some stature five years later, its power sufficient for me to check there were only 20 players on the Wigmore Hall platform. Page marshalled a performance with poise and drama, the lean tones of the Mozartists’ strings complemented by wonderfully grainy woodwind and a fulsome horn quartet who stood to play, two either side of the stage. The solemn counterpoint of the introduction harked back unexpectedly towards the slow movements of Bach’s Brandenburg Concertos, before the urgent Allegro raced ahead in dramatic fashion. The striking Adagio was initially pared-back but blossomed in the wind section, before the sharply defined third movement returned to the cut and thrust of the first. With lively dialogue and fierce energy, this was a performance to savour.
So, too, was the Haydn with which the concert ended, though at times Page appeared to be pressing too hard on the accelerator, with some phrases in the first movement of the Farewell needing more time to breathe. There was considerable tension here though, as there was in the second movement, albeit expressed through austere colours and stretched phrases. The Minuet was lightly defined but offered little relief, while the finale, surely one of the first examples of instrumental protest music, was brilliantly done. The players left the stage incrementally as Haydn requested of his Esterházy musicians, so at the end we were left with just violinists Matthew Truscott and Daniel Elgar. Typically Haydn’s humour was retained, but this time with a darker edge.
Between the symphonies lay five well-chosen arias, themselves a history lesson – in excellent performances from soprano Chiara Skerath (above), standing in for the indisposed Alexandra Lowe. She immediately seized the audience’s attention with Clytemnestre’s aria from Gluck‘s Iphigenie et Aulide, her horrific realisation that her husband Agamemnon was thinking of sacrificing his own daughter. This was a dramatic a, a dramatic affair, with appropriately sharp interjections from the orchestra. The aria Ombre che tacite qui sede, from Niccolò Jammelli’s Fetante, breathed much cooler air, the soprano low in her range at times, before the concert’s only fleeting reference to Mozart himself. Here we returned to the minor key for an aria from composer’s first mature opera, La finta giardiniera. Skerath’s communication with both orchestra and audience was captivating, revealing the extent of Arminda’s anger at the arrival of her fiancée’s former lover.
The next composer to prove his worth as a dramatic scene setter was Gluck’s Italian contemporary Tomasso Traetta, the cold introduction to Ombra cara balanced by beautiful control from Skerath. We then had a rare outing for the stage music of Haydn himself, keeping the theme of G minor tonality. The humour on show in Amore nel moi petto may not have been as immediate as his wit in the symphonies, but Skerath’s expression gave it the best chance.
As ever, Ian Page deserves enormous credit for an imaginative and entertaining program, balancing education and entertainment. By bringing fresh insight to the familiar repertoire and a chance to shine for the lesser-known names, he has made the ensemble’s Wigmore Hall series an unmissable date in the calendar. The players clearly enjoy it, too, as their encore – a palette cleansing major key slow movement from English composer Carl Friedrich Abel – was wreathed in smiles.
Published post no.3,029 – Saturday 26 September 2026
