In Concert – Nelson Goerner, City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra / Kazuki Yamada: Hindemith, Rachmaninoff & Bartók

Nelsen Goerner (piano) City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra / Kazuki Yamada

Hindemith Symphonic Metamorphosis of Themes by Carl Maria von Weber (1943)
Rachmaninoff Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini Op.43 (1934)
Bartók Concerto for Orchestra BB123 (1943)

Symphony Hall, Birmingham
Thursday 9 April 2026

Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse Pictures (c) Andrew Fox (above) and Marco Borggreve (below)

There was a pleasing overall balance to this evening’s concert from the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra and its music director Kazuki Yamada: the three works, written within a decade of each other, drawing extensively on earlier composers or, indeed, traditional music.

If not as familiar as it once was (and not least in Birmingham), Symphonic Metamorphosis of Themes by Carl Maria von Weber is always worth revival – not least for finding Hindemith at his most approachable and uninhibited. It was this latter aspect which came over most vividly here – Yamada securing a forceful though never blowzy response in the opening Allegro, then making the most of its ‘Turandot’ Scherzo’s freewheeling play on Weber’s already recalcitrant overture to which the CBSO responded in like fashion. Easily to underestimate, the Andantino emerged as music of no mean pathos as well as a foil to the final March’s breezy treatment of incisive then jocular melodies, with a close of real panache. Did a smile on the face of certain older punters indicate the latter tune’s audible resemblance to a once popular wartime song?

Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini has become increasingly familiar in recent decades, as has Rachmaninoff’s music as a whole, and tonight’s performance amply underlined why. He may not have partnered the CBSO for several years, but Nelson Goerner secured a rapport from the outset – the initial 15 variations pivoting between impetuosity and inwardness with dextrous assurance, then those three which constitute a ‘slow movement’ rendered with a soulfulness and, in the evergreen Variation XVIII, a deftness such as banished any hint of sentimentality. The closing six variations duly unfolded as a ‘finale’ capricious and scintillating, Goerner at one with the orchestra in rounding off this work with a deathless payoff. Impeccably played if emotionally aloof, BrahmsIntermezzo in A major (Op. 118/2) was the less than apposite encore.

The CBSO has an association with Bartók’s Concerto for Orchestra itself going back decades with the present account notable, above all, for its sheer virtuosity of playing. Interpretatively things was not quite this consistent – the expressive contrasts in its Introduzione just a little inflexibly drawn so that the movement felt no more than the sum of its admittedly impressive parts, with the succession of duets in Presentando le coppie a little too detached from each other for this to become the genial though equally vulnerable scherzando it ideally should be.

Conversely, the Elegia had an ideal balance between wrenching anguish and that unworldly ‘night music’ from which it emerges and into which it ultimately withdraws, while the quirky interplay of styles and parodies – whether Léhar or Shostakovich seems beside the point – in the Intermezzo interrotto never sounded at all contrived. Neither did the Finale disappoint as it navigated between pulsating energy and brazen high jinx, on route to a coda of hushed anticipation capped by a peroration which set the seal on this work in an exhilarating QED.

Overall, a fine showing for the CBSO and Yamada in the wake of their latest European tour. The orchestra returns next week in an enterprising programme of Respighi and Puccini, the latter represented by syntheses from two of his operas devised by the conductor Carlo Rizzi.

To read more about the CBSO’s 2025/26 season, visit the CBSO website. Click on the names for more on their principal conductor Kazuki Yamada and pianist Nelson Goerner

Published post no.2,854 – Saturday 11 April 2026

On Record – The Piatti Quartet – Naresh Sohal: String Quartets (Toccata Classics)

Piatti Quartet [Michael Trainor, Emily Holland (violins), Miguel Sobrinho (viola),
Jessie Ann Richardson (cello)]

Naresh Sohal
String Quartet no.1 ‘Chiaroscuro II’ (1976)
String Quartet no. 3 (2008)
String Quartet no.4 (2009)
String Quartet no. 5 (2010)

Toccata Classics TOCC0754 [74’33”]
Producer / Engineer Raphaël Mouterde

Recorded 17-19 April 2024 at St Silas’ Church, Kentish Town, London

Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse

What’s the story?

Toccata Classics continues its exploration of Naresh Sohal (1939-2018) with this release of four of his string quartets, admirably rendered by the Piatti Quartet to make an illuminating overview of Sohal’s musical language from across the greater part of his composing career.

What’s the music like?

Although he attracted most attention in his lifetime for his often expansive orchestral works, Sohal wrote widely for chamber media and not least string quartet. This medium brought his intended amalgam of Indian and European facets into acute focus though, typical of one who from the start approached the Western Tradition head on, there is nothing anecdotal let alone tokenistic about Sohal’s idiom which, as these quartets amply confirm, is unified stylistically and remains consistent as it heads toward the formal and expressive clarity of his final pieces.

At the time of his first quartet, Chiaroscuro II (its predecessor for brass quintet is on Heritage HTGCD122-3 – review to follow), Sohal was exploring an overtly avant-garde idiom evident through diverse and starkly contrasted techniques given focus by climactic cadenzas on cello then first violin – prior to its final evanescing into silence. Likewise in a single movement of 15 minutes, the Third Quartet could not be more different in aesthetic. Initially heard against an insistent drone from second violin and viola, its ideas emerge as demonstrable variants on what went before such that its animated central section then its inward continuation are made part of an indivisible process. This only makes those over-emphatic closing chords the more jarring, as though the work’s ultimate resolution had to be stated rather than just insinuated.

The remaining works, both with three movements and each lasting around 20 minutes, might be thought even closer to tradition yet, as so often with Sohal, matters are never this concrete. Thus the Fourth Quartet’s initial movement alternates its impetuous and ruminative themes to purposeful effect, then its central Moderato balances eloquence and introspection with a poise as makes this the likely highlight of the album; the final Allegro channelling motifs previously heard towards its satisfying denouement. The Fifth Quartet manipulates form and expression even more deftly, the Allegretto’s incisive yet never unyielding rhythmic verve duly matched by the Adagio’s melodic richness or the final Allegro’s contrapuntal dexterity on the way to a decisive close. Both of these pieces abound in quartet writing as unaffected as it is masterful.

Does it all work?

Indeed it does. Whether conceived as a single span or separate movements, the musical range of these pieces is a constant source of fascination. Even more surprising is that the Fourth and Fifth Quartets are only now receiving their first hearing, but it would be hard to imagine more committed advocacy than from the Piatti Quartet, which has taken this music to its collective heart. Hopefully these pieces will now find greater exposure in recital, as the importance of Sohal’s legacy becomes evident and its relevance to the present more widely acknowledged.

Is it recommended?

Indeed it is. Sound is almost ideal, while Utsyo Charraborty’s overview is complemented by a biographical note from Suddhaseel Sen and Janet Swinney. Hopefully the Second Quartet and the brief Awakening (soprano and string quartet) feature on a further release from this source.

Listen / Buy

You can hear excerpts from the album and explore purchase options at the Toccata Classics website. Click on the names to read more about the Piatti Quartet, and Naresh Sohal

Published post no.2,835 – Monday 23 March 2026

On Record – Daniela Braun, Anna Carewe & Irmela Roelcke – Anatol Vieru: Piano and Chamber Music (Toccata Classics)

Daniela Braun (violin), Anna Carewe (cello), Irmela Roelcke (piano)

Anatol Vieru
Versete Op.116 (1989)
Piano Sonata no.2 Op.140 (1994)
Piano Trio (1997)

Toccata Classics TOCC0762 [65’09”]
Producer Justus Beyer Engineers Philipp Wisser, Oliver Dannert

Recorded 14-17 June 2024 at Deutschlandfunk Kammermusiksaal, Cologne

Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse

What’s the story?

Toccata Classics issues a volume of late chamber works by Romanian composer Anatol Vieru (1926-98), authoritatively realized by three Berlin-based musicians and so confirming him as a major figure during what was a period of intensive creativity for Romanian musical culture.

What’s the music like?

Along with contemporaries Pascal Bentoiu and Stefan Nicolescu, Vieru was a leading light in the post-war era. A successful academic and administrative career went hand in hand with an increasingly forward-looking approach to composition, making for a substantial and diverse output of almost 150 opuses. Only a fraction has been recorded, but performances of various works (including nearly all his seven symphonies) have been released while other pieces can be accessed via YouTube. This album duly collates three chamber works from his last years.

Most substantial is a Piano Trio from the year before his death. As in all three of these works, Vieru eschews tempo indications for metronome markings (something his older contemporary Mieczysław Weinberg favoured in numerous late chamber pieces), while the hybrid nature of its four movements blurs formal divisions so that a motivic continuity audibly extends across the whole entity. Its expressive ambit likewise projects qualities drawn from Classical or even Baroque models decisively into the present, thus offsetting any possibility of this being music with ‘neo-’ connotations. Trenchant and incisive over much of its course, a more yielding and inward aspect increasingly comes to the fore such that the finale concludes in a mood of keen understatement – not so much avoiding a decisive close as rendering one entirely superfluous.

If the other pieces seem less unequivocal in outlook, they are hardly less refractory in content. Indeed, Versete evidently consists of two-dozen ‘‘microstructures’’ as might equally be called vignettes in their brevity and starkness of gesture; any merging toward a cumulative structure effectively determined by the interpreters. Its three movements may suggest the Second Piano Sonata as favouring a more Classical conception, but this is belied by its opening movement’s formal fluidity, its interlude-like successor’s tensile expression, then a finale which pointedly deconstructs its main motifs as to result in the most distilled of resolutions. Many composers adopt a ‘less is more’ strategy in their later music, but Vieru remains unusual in carrying this through to a logical outcome from where any further development cannot easily be imagined.

Does it all work?

Indeed it does. Vieru’s later music derives from an intricate yet never abstruse compositional strategy – succinctly outlined here by Dan Dediu – which ensures formal unity as surely as it promotes expressive variety. If the Piano Trio is the most absorbing work, the remaining two pieces are never less than distinctive and likewise benefit from the unstinting commitment of these players – Irmela Roelchea writing about her involvement with this music in the booklet. Musicians everywhere should hopefully be encouraged to explore such pieces for themselves.

Is it recommended?

Yes it is. The sound has no lack of clarity and definition, if seeming a shade brittle in louder passages, while the booklet also features an overview of the composer by Martin Anderson. Hitherto unrecorded, Vieru’s eight string quartets would seem to be a worthwhile next step.

Listen / Buy

You can hear excerpts from the album and explore purchase options at the Toccata Classics website. Click on the names to read more about the performers – violinist Daniela Braun, cellist Anna Carewe and pianist Irmela Roalcke – and composer Anatol Vieru

Published post no.2,833 – Saturday 21 March 2026

On Record – Tippett Quartet – Noah Max: String Quartets (Toccata Classics)

Tippett Quartet [John Mills, Jeremy Isaac (violins), Lydia Lowndes-Northcott (viola), Božidar Vukotić (cello)], Michael Morpurgo, narrator (‘The Man Who Planted Trees)

Noah Max
String Quartet no.1 Op.25 ‘The Man Who Planted Trees’ (2020)
String Quartet no.2 Op.37 (2021-22)
String Quartet no.3 Op.41 (2022)
String Quartet no.4 Op. 45 (2022-23)

Toccata Classics TOCC0749 [68’46”]
Producer Andrew Keener Engineer Oscar Torres

Recorded 16 August 2023 at St Silas Church, Kentish Town, London (‘The Man Who Planyed Trees’), 29-31 January 2024 at SJE Arts, Oxford

Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse

What’s the story?

Toccata Classics issues a second volume of music by Noah Max – devoted to his four string quartets which emerged at pace during the early years of this decade, and rendered here with conviction by the Tippett Quartet as part of its ongoing commitment to contemporary music.

What’s the music like?

As is emphasized in Martin Anderson’s introductory note, Max is nothing if not versatile for a creative figure still in his late twenties. Other than composition, he has been equally active as a cellist and conductor while also being a poet, film-maker and visual artist. Listeners are most likely to have encountered his music via the chamber opera A Child in Striped Pyjamas, after the novel by John Boyne, which premiered to considerable acclaim in London just over three years back and is an acknowledged influence on what he has composed subsequently.

Not just inspired by Jean Giono’s fable The Man Who Planted Trees, Max’s First Quartet also incorporates this text – eloquently narrated by Michael Morpurgo – across its three movements that chart a course from speculative uncertainty, via rapt inwardness, to dynamic resolution. It may also have three movements, but the Second Quartet is otherwise its antithesis. The initial subtitle, ‘The Ladder of Escape’ (after Joan Miró), affords real insight into its unfolding from fractured and sometimes fractious indecision, via an impulsiveness which ultimately turns in on itself, to a gradual accumulation of sound that yet leaves its overall formal and expressive trajectory in abeyance. One reason, perhaps, why this piece has been placed out of sequence at the close of the programme, as if in anticipation of a response which has yet to be written.

As the composer himself notes, the Third Quartet is designed around the number ‘three’ that imparts instability to almost every aspect; not least a volatile interplay between its harmonic density and a clearly defined chorale as comes into focus in a visceral if (almost inevitably) self-destructive climax – made the more plangent by down-tuning the lowest string on each instrument such that darkness overcomes the ensemble. Likewise cast in a single movement, the Fourth Quartet draws on aspects of Max’s aforementioned opera – but this is only made concrete by the emergence of Jewish liturgical chant during its anguished final stages. Max further draws attention to a conclusion whose demonstrably provisional manner makes the writing of a ‘fifth quartet’ to conclude this putative trilogy a likely and intriguing prospect.

Does it all work?

Pretty much throughout. What becomes evident, above all, is the ease with which Max moves between differing styles and aesthetics so as to result in an approach beholden to none. While this may seem relevant to the work at hand rather than establishing consistency across these quartets as a whole, it should not be taken as failure of intent but rather as an indication that he is still in the formative stages of a composing career which will doubtless throw up more than its fair share of surprises and circuities before one can speak of a definable ‘Max idiom’.

Is it recommended?

Yes it is – not least as these readings have a conviction expected from the always enterprising Tippett Quartet, along with an almost ideal ‘quartet sound’. Those who have Toccata’s earlier anthology of Max’s chamber music (TOCC0638) need not hesitate to acquire this follow-up.

Listen / Buy

You can hear excerpts from the album and explore purchase options at the Toccata Classics website. Click on the names to read more about the Tippett Quartet, Michael Morpurgo and composer Noah Max

Published post no.2,825 – Friday 13 March 2026

In Concert – Ailish Tynan, Pauline Murrihy, Robin Tritschler & Iain Burnside @ Wigmore Hall: Ina Boyle – A Rediscovery

Ailish Tynan (soprano), Paula Murrihy (mezzo-soprano), Robin Tritschler (tenor), Iain Burnside (piano)

Boyle A soft day, thank God (1912); Looking Back: Carrowdore (1961-6); The Joy of Earth (1914); 2 Christmas Songs: Blyssid be the Tyme (1923-4); Himself and his Fiddle (1929); Have you news of my boy Jack (1916); Looking Back: O ghost, that has gone
Vaughan Williams Orpheus with his Lute (1925)
Boyle Looking Back: The mill-water
Vaughan Williams The Water Mill (c1922)
Maconchy Sun, Moon and Stars from Sun, Moon and Stars (1977)
Boyle Spring goeth all in white (1924); A Song of Enchantment (1921-2)
Wood The blackberry blossom (1897)
Boyle Roses (1909)
Wood Oh! Skylark, for thy wing! (1884)
Boyle All Souls’ Flower (1928)
Wood Darest thou now, O Soul (1897)
Boyle The Last Invocation (1913)

Wigmore Hall, London
Tuesday 9 March, 1pm

Reviewed by Ben Hogwood Photo (c) Ben Hogwood

“I think it is most courageous of you to go on with such little recognition,” wrote Vaughan Williams to his pupil, Irish composer Ina Boyle. “The only thing to say is that it does come finally.”

This Wigmore Hall concert gave the strongest possible proof of recognition at last for Boyle’s work, her songs brought to life by a starry cast of singers with pianist Iain Burnside. The program helpfully complemented her work with that of teacher Vaughan Williams, cousin by marriage Charles Wood, and good friend Elizabeth Maconchy.

The texts reflected a love of the outdoors, surely gained during her relative seclusion in home territory at County Wicklow, and also celebrated the season of spring, evident to all arriving at the Wigmore Hall for this lunchtime recital.

The brightly voiced A soft day, thank God, took us outdoors immediately, the ‘scent of drenching leaves’ and the rain that ‘drips, drips, drips from the leaves’ brought to life from Winifred M Letts’ words. They were sung with clarity by Robin Tritschler in the first verse and a brightly voiced Ailish Tynan in the second. Boyle’s songwriting is simple – not a criticism – and direct in its communication, reflecting the shy disposition of its composer but growing in assurance as her style developed.

This was evident in the selections from the song cycle Looking Back, with Carrowdore lost in thought through Paula Murrihy’s thoughtful account. The elusive and more playful O ghost, was laced with humour by Tritschler, while Murrihy’s full-bodied vocal was complemented by the flowing current of Burnside’s piano in The Mill Water.

The Joy Of Earth was noticeably more demonstrative, while Blyssid be the Tyme benefitted from both Tynan’s effortless projection and Boyle’s clean melodic line. Murrihy did extremely well with the wordy Himself and his Fiddle, accentuating the song’s folksy triple time with Burnside, while the brief but bright Robert Bridges setting, Spring goeth all in white, was beautifully phrased by Tynan.

Boyle’s inwardly facing songs were the most moving, notably A Song of Enchantment, a setting of De la Mare given mysterious light and shade from Tritschler, who held the stillness of twilight exquisitely as the shadows advanced. The tenor also kept the inner questions of Roses in a confidential tone, while Burnside’s wandering right hand line aided the wonder of All Souls’ Flower, where the three singers took a verse each. Most affecting of all Boyle’s songs here was a setting of Rudyard Kipling’s First World War poem, Have you news of my boy Jack?, Murrihy and Tritschler playing a tense scene of anxious questions, with answers that a mother dreaded to hear.

Vaughan Williams was represented by a beautifully sung account of Orpheus with his Lute from Tynan, then a vividly pictorial account of The Water Mill from Tritschler, where Burnside’s characterisations of the roaring waters, the ticking of the mill clock and the miller’s tabby cat were exquisite.

The composer Charles Wood, Boyle’s cousin by marriage, is known primarily for Anglican church music rather than exploits in the concert hall, so it was satisfying that the centenary of his death this year was marked with three characterful songs. Paula Murrihy worked wonders with another wordy composition, the frivolous The blackberry blossom, and with the serious tones of Whitman setting Darest thou now, O Soul. Tynan was in her element for the soft tones of Oh! Skylark, for thy wing!, Burnside allowing her room to spread her wings.

Elizabeth Maconchy nearly stole the show with Sun, Moon and Stars, a modern song of striking musical language reflecting the ‘new and strange’ of its first line. The top notes reached for celestial highs, and were found unerringly in an exceptional performance by Tynan.

Wrapping up a memorable hour of music was Boyle’s The Last Invocation, an impassioned setting of Whitman throwing open the doors with the strongest possible advocacy from Robin Tritschler. It completed a concert where the songwriting craft of Ina Boyle was confirmed beyond doubt, her voice at last projecting further afield.

You can listen to the music from this concert in a Tidal playlist, including songs by Ina Boyle recorded by the artists at the Wigmore Hall for Delphian in 2020.

Published post no.2,827 – Thursday 12 March 2026