by Ben Hogwood Image of Dvořák courtesy of Wikipedia
On this day in 1885, the first performance of Dvořák’s Seventh Symphony took place, at St. James’s Hall in London, with Dvořák himself conducting.
It is one of his finest symphonies, highly regarded by critics and audiences alike, and shows a clear affinity with the work of Brahms. Characteristically for Dvořák, it is bursting with melody – as this classic recording with the London Symphony Orchestra and István Kertész shows:
Hans Christian Aavik (violin), Estonian National Symphony Orchestra / Neeme Järvi, Olari Elts
Verbytsky / Chubynsky National Anthem of Ukraine Eller Homeland Tune (1918/1953) Sibelius Andante festivo (1922/1938) Tüür Violin Concerto no.2 ‘Angel’s Share’ (2018) Sumera Symphony no.2 (1984)
Estonia Concert Hall, Tallinn Wednesday 15 April 2026
Reviewed by Ben Hogwood Pictures (c) Ben Hogwood
There was a celebratory air to this concert in the Estonian National Symphony Orchestra’s Violin Concerto series, which began with powerful solidarity as the orchestra played the Ukrainian National Anthem to a standing audience.
They were conducted by the return of the much-loved Neeme Järvi, soon to be 89 – the unofficial godfather of an Estonian conducting dynasty now spreading well beyond his own sons Paavo and Kristjan. Järvi also conducted Homeland Tune by the pioneering Estonian composer Heino Eller, whose stints at Tartu and Tallinn musical establishments found him teaching the likes of Arvo Pärt and Tubin. The burnished string tone of the Estonian NSO strings was to be savoured in this affectionate rendering, as it was in a warm account of Andante Festivo, the popular Sibelius encore.
The impish Järvi, playing to the gallery, was then joined on stage by Martin Cullingford (above) editor of Gramophone magazine. While there were mischievous asides from the conductor there were serious points too – the merits of composer Joachim Raff, the latest in a long list of countless musical discoveries, and the concluding exhortation that without music, life is nothing. It was difficult to disagree, Järvi showing just why he is held in such great esteem.
So, too, is composer Erkki-Sven Tüür, in his fifties but with a thirty-year career in which he has established himself on the world stage as a composer whose evolution is compelling to witness. Tüür writes with great fluency in established classical forms, and his Violin Concerto no.2 shows his ability to apply an emotive program to those structures. ‘Angel’s Share’ refers to the pocket of air appearing in a barrel of whisky during the ageing process, a phenomenon applied to the maturing of an adult.
The silvery edge to the tone of violinist Hans Christian Aavik was the ideal spur for music that engaged in luminous dialogue, while laced with folksy references. The frequency spectrum of this piece is wide, from the metallic percussion of the first gesture to the important part played by the double basses, providing notable depth, their counter melodies central as the concerto pushed forward. Aavik’s virtuosity was key, convincingly delivering with spacious phrasing. This concerto needs repeated listening but is on its way to becoming a repertoire regular.
The same fate should befall the Second Symphony of Lepo Sumera, a 20-minute single movement span that proved something of a revelation. Sumera is not often heard beyond his own country, but this work completely validated his compositional approach, blending an American-style minimalism – admired by John Adams, no less – with fresh melodies and open textures that could only be Baltic in origin.
The work began with the two harps (Sara Siria D’Amico and Saale Kivimaker) who played exquisitely, their distinctive motifs the seeds from which the music grew, forming like a sped-up motion picture of the growth of a tree, its branches extending outwards and upwards in twisting figures, germinating new ideas at every turn while all the while building a majestic canopy.
Olari Elts oversaw this process with admirable surety, aided by unexpected interventions from the trombones, and double basses, with wild whoops and guttural phrases introducing a more primal edge. The climactic section confirmed Sumera’s continental approach, for the tree could now be in the American plains given the wide-open textures around, and also his tight grasp of structure, with barely a note out of place. Gradually the music returned to earth, and to the harps of the beginning, its story told in a singularly powerful voice.
Sumera’s output numbers seven symphonies, each earmarked for release in recordings by this conductor and orchestra on the Finnish label Ondine. Judging by this rediscovered masterpiece, we are in for a treat – and for Sumera, whose life was cut tragically short at the age of 50, recognition of his talents looks set to go well beyond this appreciative Tallinn concert hall.
by Ben Hogwood Image of Sibelius courtesy of Wikipedia, and Finnish photographer Daniel Nyblin
Having just returned from Tallinn, Estonia, I feel particularly close the music of Finnish composer Jean Sibelius. On this day in 1895 one of his early orchestral works, The Wood Nymph, was premiered – and you can listen below:
by Ben Hogwood Image of Sibelius courtesy of Wikipedia, and Finnish photographer Daniel Nyblin
On this day in 1896, the world premiere of Jean Sibelius’ Lemminkäinen Suite took place in Helsinki. The suite, in four distinct movements, has become a popular concert piece and is an early indication of the composer’s ability to tell dramatic tales through the orchestra. In this case the story follows Lemminkäinen in the Kalevala, the Finnish epic of folklore and poetry. The four movements are Lemminkäinen and the Maidens of the Island, The Swan of Tuonela (sometimes placed third and the most popular of the four), Lemminkäinen in Tuonela and Lemminkäinen’s Return
You can listen to a performance below from the Toronto Symphony Orchestra, conducted by Jukka-Pekka Saraste:
Helena Juntunen (soprano), City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra / Osmo Vänskä (above)
Sibelius Karelia Suite Op.11 (1893) Songs – Höstkväll Op.38/1 (1903, orch. 1904); Hertig Magnus Op.57/6 (1909, orch. 1912); Våren flyktar hastigt Op.13/4 (1891, orch. 1913) The Bard Op.64 (1913) Luonnotar Op.70 (1913) Shostakovich Symphony no.15 in A major Op.141 (1970-71)
Symphony Hall, Birmingham Wednesday 19 November 2025
Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse Pictures (c) Jonathan Ferro
Finnish conductor Osmo Vänskä makes relatively UK appearances these days such that this evening’s concert with the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra was to be anticipated, given the never less than intriguing juxtaposition of works from Sibelius and Shostakovich.
It now appears less frequently on programmes than half a century ago, but Karelia Suite finds Sibelius at his most uninhibited and Vänskä responded accordingly – whether the simmering motion of its Intermezzo or the pulsating activity of its Alla Marcia; its Ballade distilling the keenest atmosphere with Rachel Pankhurst making the most of her plaintive solo. Harpist Karherine Thomas was similarly attuned to her almost obligato role in The Bard, a tone poem whose sombre understatement hardly prepares one for the surging emotion towards its climax.
Elsewhere in this half it was Helena Juntunen (above) who stole the show with her judicious selection of Sibelius songs. That almost all these are settings of Swedish texts reflects an introspective Romanticism often overlooked in his output and Juntunen brought out the stark imagining of Autumn Evening then restless aspiration of Baron Magnus as potently as the ecstatic yearning of Spring is Flying. Her swapping sophisticated gown for traditional dress may have pointed up stylistic differences with Luonnotar, but it also underlined the inimitability of this setting from Finnish national epic the Kalevala. Birmingham audiences had been spoiled by hearing Anu Komsi in the piece, but Juntunen was no less inside music whose extremes of timbre or texture result in as heady a culmination then as spellbinding a conclusion as any in Sibelius.
Hard now to recall a time when Shostakovich’s 15th Symphony was believed too inscrutable for wider appreciation, rather than that masterly reassessment of Classical symphonism it is. Vänskä brooked no compromise in an initial Allegretto not without its technical mishaps, for all its sardonic and even scabrous humour came over unimpeded, but it was with the Adagio this performance wholly found its stride. As enhanced by eloquent contributions from cellist Eduardo Vassallo then trombonist Richard Watkin, this was palpably well sustained through to a climax shot through with a defiance borne of desperation, before retreating back into its initial numbness. Continuing directly, the ensuing Allegretto was an intermezzo no less acute in its expression and not least for the way solo instruments melded so deftly with percussion.
Vänskä did not make the mistake of rendering the finale an Adagio, such as holds good only with its portentous introduction. The main Allegretto was persuasively handled – broadening marginally for a central passacaglia builds stealthily if inevitably to a climax corrosive in its dissonance, before retracing its thematic steps towards a coda which evokes the notion of the ‘unbearable lightness of being’ more completely than any other music. Here, also, there was no mistaking the CBSO’s collective focus in bringing this totemic work to its deathless close.
Shostakovich 15 does not lack for probing or memorable readings these days and, if tonight’s did not answer all its questions, Vänskä nevertheless ensured this piece left its mark on what was a commendably full house, and which set the seal on a flawed while memorable concert.
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