The 2026 edition of the BBC Proms is underway! With a Transatlantic first night, the BBC Symphony Chorus and BBC Symphony Orchestra under Dalia Stasevska were joined by pianist Yunchan Lim for a special performance of Ravel‘s Piano Concerto.
Flanking this were two pieces celebrating America’s 250th ‘birthday’, Copland‘s Fanfare for the Common Man and Gershwin‘s An American in Paris, while French-British composer Josephine Stephenson was the ideal choice to write a first night premiere, That the sunrise not leave us unmoved.
Wrapping up the night was a rare performance of Finzi‘s For St Cecilia, a choral work of typical mystery and elegance but one that deserved its rare moment in the sun. Choral and orchestral forces then gave an encore of the Oasis song Wonderwall, acknowledging the England team’s prowess in the World Cup. A red card for its choice, I’m afraid – and a shame to have Finzi’s contribution immediately overshadowed in this way. Wonderwall is a great song, but felt miscast here.
Enough of my griping, though – as we should acknowledge many people enjoyed the inclusion, and the night as a whole was a celebratory indication of what we can expect to indulge in over the next eight weeks. Truly something for everyone.
Stewart Goodyear (piano, above), City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra / Kazuki Yamada
Simon Hellfighters’ Blues (2024) Mazzoli Sinfonia (for Orbiting Spheres) (2014) Gershwin Rhapsody in Blue (1924) Ives ed. Sinclair Three Places in New England (1911-14) Gershwin An American in Paris (1928)
Symphony Hall, Birmingham Wednesday 21 January 2026
Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse
The heady interplay of jazz and blues idioms (with a little help from pioneer W. C. Handy) of Carlos Simon’s Hellfighter’s Blues launched in exhilarating fashion this City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra concert, pertinent as the 250th anniversary of American Independence approaches.
Missy Mazzoli’sSinfonia (for Orbiting Spheres) could not have been further removed with its formal parallel to that of the solar system; an abstraction offset by the ‘sinfonia’ connotations of a Medieval hurdy-gurdy whose modal drone, recreated here with harmonicas played by the horns and woodwind, underlies the piece’s increasing velocity. That this suggested a tangible connection with the past and, at the same time, absorbed accrued influences into an idiom of today said much about the effectiveness of Mazzoli’s modus operandi these past two decades.
It could have been a conceptual leap too far from here to Gershwin’s galvanizing of the ‘jazz age’ aesthetic almost a century earlier yet Rhapsody in Blue has lost but little of its edge in the interim, especially as Stewart Goodyear rendered its solo part with almost reckless enjoyment. With almost every focal point either underlined or rendered in inverted commas, this was not the subtlest of performance, but Kazuki Yamada was at one with his pianist in conveying the breezy excitement of this music, with the final stages emerging as a high-octane apotheosis. Goodyear is evidently a pianist with whom to reckon – maybe his next appearance will find him tackling Gershwin’s Piano Concerto in F? For the present, he gave the slow movement of his own Piano Sonata (1996), poised midway between Copland and Piston, as plaintive encore.
Whatever his radical tendencies, Charles Ives embodies the ethos of an earlier age (Michael Tilson Thomas aptly described him as America’s greatest late-Romantic composer), such as felt uppermost with Yamada’s take on Three Places in New England. So the intensifying of feeling in The ‘St. Gaudens’ at Boston Common was secondary to a distanced recollection of time, while the elaborate march-fantasy that is Putnam’s Camp, Redding, Connecticut was genial rather than boisterous – albeit until its accumulation of activity for an ending of visceral abandon. The Housatonic at Stockbridge yet which left the deepest impression – its fervent evocation of place from the vantage of marital bliss duly inspiring a welling-up of emotion which not even Yamada’s slight over-hastiness could rob of its sheer eloquence.
An American in Paris might have been an awkward piece with which to close, but succeeded well on its own terms. Something between tone poem and symphonic rhapsody. Gershwin’s evocation of a compatriot (himself?) a little lost in the French capital received an impulsive yet perceptive reading. There was a start-stop feel to its earlier stages, but what ensued was rarely less than persuasive – not least those final bars with their tangible sense of resolution.
It certainly brought to a resounding close a concert which conveyed much of the sheer variety of American music across little more than a century. Hopefully Yamada will programme more of this repertoire – perhaps an Ives symphony or music by the late, great Christopher Rouse?
by Ben Hogwood Photo by By Carl Van Vechten – Library of Congress
On this day in 1932, the first performance of Gershwin’s Cuban Overture took place in New York’s Lewisohn Stadium. Originally titled Rumba, its premiere with the New York Philharmonic conducted by Albert Coates was a success – and the work was renamed soon after. You can hear it below in a performance from the Orchestre national de France, conducted by Dalia Stasevska:
Hyeyoon Park (violin, above), City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra / Alexander Shelley (below)
Gershwin An American in Paris (1928) Price Violin Concerto no.2 in D minor (1952) Price arr. Farrington Adoration (1951) Ravel Le Tombeau de Couperin (1914-17, orch. 1919) Stravinsky The Firebird – suite (1910, arr. 1919)
Symphony Hall, Birmingham Thursday 20 February 2025 (2:15pm)
Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse
Although he holds major posts in Canada and Naples and has a longstanding association with the Royal Philharmonic, Alexander Shelley seems not previously to have conducted the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra, and this afternoon’s concert made one hope he will return soon.
An American in Paris was a tricky piece with which to open proceedings, but here succeeded well on its own terms. Somewhere between tone poem and symphonic rhapsody, Gershwin’s evocation of a compatriot (maybe himself?) not a little lost in the French capital was treated to a bracingly impulsive and most often perceptive reading. A slightly start-stop feel in those earlier stages ceased well before Jason Lewis’s eloquent though not unduly inflected take on its indelible trumpet melody, with the closing stages afforded a tangible sense of resolution.
Much interest has centred over this past decade on the music of Florence Price – the Chicago-based composer and pianist, much of whose output was thought lost prior to the rediscovery of a substantial cache of manuscripts in 2009. One of which was her Second Violin Concerto, among her last works and whose 15-minute single movement evinces a focus and continuity often lacking in her earlier symphonic pieces (not least a Piano Concerto which Birmingham heard a couple of seasons ago). Its rich-textured orchestration (but why four percussionists?) is an ideal backdrop for the soloist to elaborate its series of episodes commanding, ruminative then impetuous, and Hyeyoon Park made the most of her time in the spotlight for an account that presented this always enjoyable while ultimately unmemorable work to best advantage.
The concerto being short measure, Park continued with an ideal encore. Written for solo organ, Price’s Adoration was given in Iain Farrington’s arrangement that brought out its elegance and warmth, if also an unlikely resemblance to Albert Fitz’s ballad The Honeysuckle and the Bee.
After the interval, music by composers from whom Gershwin had sought composition lessons when in Paris. Orchestral forces duly scaled down, Ravel’s Le Tombeau de Couperin was at its best in a deftly propelled Forlane, the alternation of verses with refrains never outstaying its welcome, then a Menuet whose winsome poise – and delectable oboe playing from Hyun Jung Song – emphasized the ominous tone of its central section. The Prélude was a little too skittish, while a capering Rigaudon was spoiled by an excessive ritenuto on its final phrase.
Interesting how the 1919 suite from Stravinsky’s The Firebird has regained a popularity it long enjoyed before renditions of the complete ballet became the norm. Drawing palpable mystery from its ‘Introduction’, Shelley (above) secured a dextrous response in Dance of the Firebird then an alluring response from the woodwind in Khovorod of the Princesses. Contrast again with the Infernal Dance of King Kashchei, even if its later stages lacked a measure of adrenalin, then the Berceuse had a soulful contribution by Nikolaj Henriques and fastidiously shaded strings. Hardly less involving was the crescendo into the Finale, started by Zoe Tweed’s poetic horn solo and culminating in a peroration with no lack of spectacle. It made an imposing end to this varied and cohesive concert, one that confirmed Shelley as a conductor with whom to reckon.
Stewart Goodyear (piano), City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra / Ilan Volkov (above)
Ives Three Places in New England (1911-14, rev. 1929) Zappa Bob in Dacron and Sad Jane (1982-3) Lewis Memex (2014) Gershwin orch. Grofé Rhapsody in Blue (1924, rev. 1942)
Symphony Hall, Birmingham Wednesday 27 March 2024
Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse
Ilan Volkov is always a welcome presence on the Symphony Hall podium, and this evening he conducted the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra in a fascinating programme of works by American composers – three of them established in music notably removed from classical.
The concert was framed by what have now become repertoire pieces, but Ives’s Three Places in New England had to wait over half a century to be accorded this status. Using what sounded to be the most recent edition, Volkov stressed its late-Romantic impulsiveness and rhetorical eloquence, though some over-emphatic pauses or phrasing slightly undersold the cumulative majesty of The Saint Gaudens and coursing energy of Putnam’s Camp – which latter still teetered (rightly) on chaos at its close. If the build-up in The Housatonic at Stockbridge felt unduly precipitate, Rachel Pankhurst’s rendering of its cor anglais melody had ideal pathos.
The three decades since Frank Zappa’s untimely death have brought into focus his sheer range of musical preoccupations, though his pair of early 1980s albums with the London Symphony Orchestra made plain that being one of rock music’s finest guitarists and leading provocateurs was never enough. Despite their linkage via a ballet with its somewhat dubious scenario, Bob in Dacron and Sad Jane are individual entities and their respective two movements underline Zappa’s concern for musical and expressive diversity – whether in the reckless overkill of the male protagonist or halting fatalism of the female. Volkov secured dedicated playing from the CBSO as brought out Zappa’s debt to ‘third stream’ jazz as much as his modernist forebears.
George Lewis is another figure whose creativity ranges over multiple media – not least that of the orchestra which, thanks not least to Volkov’s advocacy, has gained some familiarity in the UK. Its title referring to a theoretical device for establishing connections across an otherwise unregulated body of information, Memex is typical of the composer through its complexity of textures which affords a heady virtuosity but also a measure of subtlety and inwardness, not least in those final stages when the earlier volatility gradually coalesces into something akin to resolution; as if all that information was, if not dispersed, at least finding discipline. Such, at least, was the impression left by this committed reading of a striking and absorbing piece.
It might have been a conceptual leap too far from here to Gershwin’s galvanizing of the ‘jazz age’ aesthetic almost a century earlier, though Rhapsody in Blue has lost relatively little of its edge during the interim – especially when Stewart Goodyear projected the steely spontaneity of its solo part with such gusto. Admittedly the large orchestral forces (a feature of each work heard tonight) lacked a degree of co-ordination in tutti sections, but Volkov was at one with his pianist in conveying the breezy and often brittle excitement of music which sounded as if evolving in real-time – not least the final stages that emerged as a high-octane apotheosis.
No little excitement, then, was generated over the course of this performance as of this concert overall: just the sort of event the CBSO should be putting on each season, which latter would certainly be the poorer were artists such as Volkov not encouraged to follow their convictions.
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