‘A moment of sudden and great revelation or realization’.
This is the second Oxford definition for the word ‘epiphany’…which is also a Christian feast day, ‘the manifestation of Christ to the Gentiles as represented by the Magi’.
It’s the ‘sudden realization’ that has descended on Arcana towers, however, as many of us go back to work today. Christmas is done, two weeks that have flown by – and just a heartbeat later we’re thrust wide-eyed into the New Year, back into the strong current of the river that is modern life.
Help is at hand, however. Music is such a reliable ally in times like this, whether it’s the music we know and love or the music we haven’t discovered yet. Both are reasons to look forward to 2025 with anticipation! Arcana will be hoping for several ‘epiphanies’, as we split our loyalties between the old and the new, covering music from the last 500 years or more as we go.
2025 will see the tenth birthday of this resource, believe it or not – on Saturday 1st February. By then we hope to be well in the groove of providing a daily digest of shared musical loves, interviews and concerts. Along the way there will be special focus on Shostakovich, who died 50 years ago this year, and is a favourite composer in these parts. We will also look to enjoy classical music from London, Birmingham and online, electronic music from all corners of the world, and plenty in between.
If you’d like to get in touch with us about any of it, suggest some things for us to listen to, or even write for us, get in touch! You can get me, Ben Hogwood, via e-mail (editor@arcana.fm), over BlueSky (Ben Hogwood or Arcana) or – if you must – on Twitter / X for a little while longer.
Before you go, do listen to this remarkable carol marking Epiphany from British composer Judith Bingham – both haunting and tremendously powerful. Happy New Year!
Alexander Roslavets (narrator / bass), Gidon Kremer (violin), London Philharmonic Choir (men’s voices), London Philharmonic Orchestra / Andrey Boreyko
Schoenberg A Survivor from Warsaw Op.46 (1947) Weinberg Violin Concerto in G minor Op.67 (1959) Shostakovich Symphony no.13 in B flat minor Op.113 ‘Babi Yar’ (1962)
Royal Festival Hall, London Wednesday 27 November 2024
Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse Pictures (c) Richard de Stoutz (Andrey Boreyko), Angie Kremer (Gidon Kremer)
Anyone who heard one or other of these works for the first time at this concert by the London Philharmonic Orchestra could be forgiven for thinking that the twentieth century, if not a ‘dark century’ per se, was at the very least a troubled one for all that the quality of its music was undeniable.
With its elements of melodrama and cantata, Schoenberg’s A Survivor from Warsaw is one of his most original conceptions and necessarily so, given the unnerving immediacy of its text in which a speaker has to take on the roles of survivor and officer in just six minutes. Alexander Roslavets rose to this challenge, bringing out emotional contrasts as surely as he instilled his words with that ominous dread whose culmination in the prayer Shema Yisrael was intoned by the London Philharmonic Choir with the right balance between desperation and defiance.
One composer who witnessed something of such atrocities was Mieczysław Weinberg, and if his Violin Concerto demonstrably continues the ‘Romantic’ tradition, this is still an inherently personal statement. Gidon Kremer has championed the composer extensively in recent years and, while technical issues seemingly inhibited the respectively incisive and impetuous outer movements, the restless searching of its intermezzo-like Allegretto then confiding eloquence of its Adagio were abundantly in evidence. For all its outward virtuosity, the music’s essential inwardness is what prevails as the soloist remains musing when the orchestra fell silent at the close of the finale. Kremer was in his element here, as in a touching rendition of Silvestrov’s Serenade which made for an apposite encore and was dedicated to all the people of Ukraine.
Best known for giving the posthumous premiere of Gorecki’s Fourth Symphony with the LPO 10 years back, Andrey Boreyko is well established as an exponent of Shostakovich so that his take on the Thirteenth Symphony did not disappoint. At a distance of over six decades, it can be hard to recapture the provocation of that most eminent Soviet composer using verse by the most populist younger poet, as Yevgeny Yevtushenko then was, but this setting of Babi Yar retains all its expressive force through the immediacy and resourcefulness in which it relates official indifference to the Jewish massacre as that ravine outside Kyiv was transformed into landfill. Broodingly restrained, Roslavets emerged into his own with Humour – its scabrous send-up of bone-headed officialdom inspiring one of Shostakovich’s most scurrilous scherzos.
Fashioning the last three movements into a cohesive if cumulative unity, Boreyko underlined the potency of Shostakovich’s creative vision as he takes the Soviet establishment to task for various failings economic as In the Store, political as in Fears and cultural as in A Career. Implacable then volatile, these first two are rounded off by Yevtushenko’s considering of the relationship between society and the individual; framed by an undulating melody, for flutes then strings, which is one of its composer’s most evocative as well as affecting inspirations.
It duly brought this work, and this performance, to its subdued yet spellbinding close. As the relationship between East and West becomes ever more confrontational, Shostakovich’s 13th remains a testament to rationality and compassion whose denigration is to everybody’s cost.
Shostakovich String Quartet no.10 in A flat major Op.118 (1964) Weinberg String Quartet no.11 in F major Op.89 (1965-6) Weinberg Piano Quintet in F minor Op.18 (1944)
Wigmore Hall, London Monday 25 November 2024
by Richard Whitehouse Photo (c) Marco Borggreve
This latest instalment in Quatuor Danel’s parallel cycle of string quartets by Shostakovich and Weinberg comprised one of the former composer’s most understated pieces followed with two of the latter’s most characteristic yet, at least in terms of expression, utterly contrasted works.
Written during just 11 days, the Tenth Quartet is something of a standalone in Shostakovich’s cycle – coming as it does between the four innately personal quartets that preceded it and the four related to members of the Beethoven Quartet (who premiered all except the first and last of this cycle) that followed. Yet, as its dedication to Mieczysław Weinberg suggests, this is no less specific in intent – hence the musing ambivalence of its initial Andante and visceral force of its scherzo. The Danel savoured their respective essence, cellist Yovan Markovich coming into his own in the ensuing Adagio with its emotionally restrained variations. The link to the finale was seamlessly effected, then the movement built methodically towards a heightened restatement of the passacaglia theme before tentatively retracing its steps to a wistful close.
Written months later, Weinberg’s Eleventh Quartet is by no means lesser by design or intent. Its fugitive opening Allegro exudes a scurrying motion such as resurfaces at key moments in the overall design, akin to that of the Shostakovich in equivocation, and if the scherzo could hardly be more different in its fleeting delicacy (the original such movement it replaced was likely much more demonstrative), the solemn alternation of ensemble and solo writing in its Adagio conjures up a similarly processional aura. Contrast is again pronounced in the finale where, instead of channelling the musical loose-ends towards a formal and expressive unity, Weinberg leaves matters in abeyance; despite (or because of) the most tentative recollection of that scurrying motion which flits across the already fragmented texture at the very close.
If the Danel had long mastered Weinberg at his most refractory, it proved equally adept with the communicative power of his Piano Quintet. At almost 45 minutes this is also his largest chamber work, its five movements unfolding as a discursive if never random sequence such that the furtive questioning of its opening Moderato finds accord with the unsettled humour of its ensuing Allegretto – an intermezzo next to the scherzo-like energy of its central Presto, in which the interplay between François-Frédéric Guy and the Danel was at its most incisive.
Much the longest movement, the Largo accumulates intensity through juxtaposing passages in rhythmic unison with those during which piano and strings predominate. Its impassioned culmination is exceeded by that of a final Allegro whose impetuous main ideas bring about a climactic return to the work’s opening theme. Even more remarkable is what follows: the intensity soon subsiding prior to this movement’s initial idea returning, quietly transformed, as though to suggest its composer having been reborn as a sentient being and creative artist.
Hearing this work, performances of which have fortunately become more frequent these past two decades, is an experience like few others in the chamber domain; suffice to add that Guy and the Danel were as one in their realizing the scale and impact of this modern masterpiece.
You can hear the music from the concert below, in recordings made by Quatuor Danel -including their most recent cycle of the Shostakovich quartets on Accentus:
Weinberg String Quartet no.9 in F# minor Op.80 (1963) Weinberg String Quartet no.10 in A minor Op.85 (1964) Shostakovich String Quartet no.9 in E flat major Op.117 (1964)
Wigmore Hall, London Wednesday 16 October 2024
by Richard Whitehouse Photo (c) Marco Borggreve
Quatuor Danel reached the effective mid-point of its Shostakovich and Weinberg cycle with this programme featuring two of the latter composer’s lesser if still absorbing string quartets alongside one from the former that has come belatedly to be held among his most revealing.
Coming soon after his Fifth Symphony (arguably the finest of this cycle), the Ninth Quartet finds Weinberg at something of a stylistic crossroads with those essentials of his subsequent phase almost within reach. It opens with an Allegro which is among his most visceral in any medium – the Danel (rightly) giving full rein to a seething energy, barely held in check, then to which the Allegretto functions as a shock absorber given its intermezzo-like speculations. The ensuing Andante ventures further towards that secretive and often confessional intimacy central to its composer’s thinking henceforth, though here its introspection is mitigated by a finale which unfolds almost as a synthesis of what went before – the Danel duly mindful of a gradual momentum that does not bring resolution as evade the issue with a nonchalant shrug.
Barely a year on, the Tenth Quartet has the same four-movement and 25-minute dimensions but is otherwise a very different proposition. Here the initial movement is an Adagio whose rhetorical fervency has turned in on itself well before the end, leaving an Allegro to provide oblique continuity with its simmering intensity that never quite risks outright confrontation. If the Adagio that follows promises such, its gestures prove too brittle and short-winded to sustain a more expansive movement – the intensity soon making way for a final Allegretto that sounds intent on avoiding closure with its succession of fugitive interactions, elegantly articulated here, whose lilting gait ultimately alights on the tardiest of cadences. As with its predecessor, any bringing of the work emotionally full circle is conspicuous by its absence.
Now that a first movement has been realized and performed, it is clear what Shostakovich had intended as his Ninth Quartet would have been very different from what emerged – the trenchant while slightly foursquare manner of that earlier effort replaced by the undulating lyricism of a Moderato as methodically sets out all those salient motifs for what follows. Its equivocation was ideally conveyed here – no less than the elegiac character of its successor, then a central movement of a liveliness increasingly waylaid by questioning and self-doubt.
From here, a second Adagio veers between inward musing and explosive pizzicato outbursts as provoked impassioned responses. The emotional ante duly upped, the final Allegro surges forth with new-found energy and purpose – taking in a truculent, folk-tinged episode before breaking off for a return to those pizzicato exchanges. Performances of this work often lose focus at this juncture, but the Danel brooked no compromise as the movement fairly hurtled to a close of manic defiance in what was a notable instance of music ‘playing’ its musicians.
Quite a performance with which to end this latest instalment of the Danel’s dual odyssey but, as has become usual, an encore was forthcoming: the Polka from the ballet The Golden Age affording a sardonic postlude with the insouciance of an earlier, not necessarily ‘golden’ age.
You can hear the music from the concert below, in recordings made by Quatuor Danel -including their most recent cycle of the Shostakovich quartets on Accentus:
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
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