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

In Concert – Natalya Romaniw, CBSO / Eduardo Strausser: Shekhar, Richard Strauss & Brahms

Natalya Romaniw (soprano, below), City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra / Eduardo Strausser (above)

Shekhar Lumina (2020) [UK Premiere]
Richard Strauss Vier letzte Lieder (1948)
Brahms Symphony no.4 in E minor Op.98 (1884-5)

Symphony Hall, Birmingham
Wednesday 4 February 2026

Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse Pictures (c) Rodrigo Levy (Eduardo Strausser), Frances Marshall (Natalya Romaniw)

Eduardo Strausser has been welcome visitor to the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra on several earlier occasions (see elsewhere on this website), with this afternoon’s programme demonstrating a keen ear for his juxtaposing of contemporary music and established classics.

Equally well-established as an instrumentalist and multi-media artist, Nina Shekhar (b.1995) is an Indian-American with a substantial output to her credit – not least Lumina. Premiered in Los Angeles and subsequently heard across the United States, its eventful 12 minutes explore what she has described as ‘‘… the spectrum of light and dark and the murkiness in between’’. The incremental emergence of sound and texture brings Ligeti’s 1960s pieces to mind, while the build-up of its central phase towards a culmination of palpable emotional fervour is both adeptly managed and powerfully sustained, before the gradual return to its inward origin. The present performance left little doubt as to Strausser’s belief in this music, even if that opening stage would have benefitted from a more attentive response by some of those in the audience.

Richard Strauss’s Four Last Songs is too frequently encountered in concert these days, so that it takes something special to make one reflect anew on its achievement as among the greatest of musical swansongs. This account got off to rather an inauspicious start – Natalya Romaniw overwrought in the vernal deftness of Frühling, not aided by overly opaque textures – though it subsequently came into its own. Arguably the most perfectly realized of all orchestral songs, September found an enticing balance between joy and resignation, while if leader Jonathan Martindale’s solo in Beim Schlafengehen was not quite flawless, it eschewed sentimentality to a (surprisingly?) rare degree. Im Abendrot rounded off the performance with Romaniw’s eloquent retreat into an orchestral backdrop which itself faded into serene and rapt fulfilment.

If by no means his final work, Brahms’s Fourth Symphony surely marks the onset of his final creative period. In its overtly austere sound-world and an abundance of hymn-like or chorale-inflected themes, it is also the most Bachian of his orchestral works but Strausser was right to offset this aspect against that surging emotion as underlies even the most speculative passages of its opening movement. The coda built methodically yet not a little impulsively towards an apotheosis as dramatic as anything by this most Classically inclined of Romantic composers.

After this, the Andante emerged in all its autumnal warmth and expressive poignancy – if not the most perfectly realized Brahms slow movement then surely the most profound. Bracingly energetic if never headlong, the scherzo prepared unerringly for the finale – the effectiveness of its passacaglia format having on occasion been questioned, while conveniently overlooking that parallel sonata-form dynamism such as galvanizes this movement on its intended course. Suffice to add that the closing pages felt as inevitable as any performance in recent memory.

Overall, a fine showing for the CBSO – notably its woodwind and brass – and Strausser, who will hopefully return soon. The orchestra is heard later this month with Omar Meir Wellber in a no less stimulating programme of Beethoven’s Third Piano Concerto with Haydn’s ‘Nelson’ Mass.

To read more about the CBSO’s 2025/26 season, visit the CBSO website. Click on the names for more on conductor Eduardo Strausser soprano Natalya Romaniw and composer Nina Shekhar

Published post no.2,791 – Saturday 7 February 2026

In Concert – Simon Wallfisch & Joseph Middleton @ Wigmore Hall: Voices of Terezin

Simon Wallfisch (baritone, above), Joseph Middleton (below)

Ullmann Beryozkele from 3 jiddische Lieder Op. 53 (1944); Lieder der Tröstung (1943): Tote wollen nicht verweilen, Erwachen zu Weihnachten; From Drei chinesische Lieder (1943): Wanderer erwacht in der Herberge; Der Müde Soldat
Taube Ein jüdisches Kind (1944)
Haas 4 Songs on Chinese Poetry (1944)
Leo Strauss arr. Iain Farrington Als Ob! (c.1942-4)
Brahms 4 Serious Songs Op.121 (1896): Ich wandte mich und sahe an alle
Ullmann From Der Mensch und sein Tag Op. 47 (1943): Heimat, Der Liebsten, Verdämmern, Nacht
Brahms 4 Serious Songs Op.121 (1896): Wenn ich mit Menschen und mit Engelszungen redete
Ullmann Stille from Der Mensch und sein Tag Op. 47 (1943)
Ilse Weber Wiegala (1944)
Ravel Kaddisch from 2 mélodies hebraiques (1914)

Wigmore Hall, London
Tuesday 27 January 2026, 1pm

Reviewed by Ben Hogwood

This remarkable concert, given on International Holocaust Remembrance Day, took the form of a wholly appropriate tribute to the musicians, writers and academics assembled by the Nazis in the Ghetto Theresienstadt. This was based at Terezin, the small town near Prague, and used as a propaganda tool to present Jewish prisoners as thriving artists, in spite of them being held prior to being sent to the Auschwitz or Treblinka concentration camps.

German-English Baritone Simon Wallfisch is a member of a deeply musical family, with his grandmother, Anita Lasker-Wallfisch, a survivor from the Women’s Orchestra of Auschwitz. Together with pianist Joseph Middleton he presented music from four composers held in the ghetto, part of a sequence intertwined with diaries, poems, essays, pictures and musical excerpts. They gave the Wigmore Hall a deeply moving period of contemplation, their consummate artistry and control ensuring that a celebration of the creative spirit ultimately won through.

Wallfisch and Middleton (above) used the music of Viktor Ullmann as reference points. A principal focus was the composer’s settings of German haiku equivalents by the Czech poet Hans Günther Adler, a Holocaust survivor whose son Jeremy addressed the audience before the concert began. Ullmann’s music found a blend of touching simplicity and harmonic daring, pulling against tonal confines to give increased tension but in a way bringing the music closer to Berg than Schoenberg.

His word settings were particularly vivid in the first song, Beryozkele (Little birch tree), especially the line Jedes Bletele ihr’s Scheptshet schtil a t’rile (Each little leaf whispers quietly its own prayer), a parallel for each of the souls held captive in the town.

Meanwhile the crumpled harmonies of Tote wollen nicht verweilen (The dead do not want to linger) contrasted with the eerie purity of the fragment Erwachen zu Weihnachten (Awakening at Christmas), while in the Adler settings we heard the concentrated Heimat (Home) and the shafts of hopeful light offered by Der Liebsten (The loved one). The cold bell of Verdämmern (Twilight) rendered by Middleton offered beauty but also fear, before the pair achieved a remarkable stasis during Stille (Stillness).

The music of Carlo Sigmund Taube was similarly moving, through the innocence of Ein jüdisches Kind (A Jewish child), but was a wild contrast to the approach of Leo Strauss, whose cabaret scene Als Ob! (As If!) was deadpan, its humour brilliantly done but cold in the extreme.

The music of Czech composer Pavel Haas continues to make a striking impact, and his 4 Songs on Chinese Poetry were prefaced by a video clip (above) of the tensile Study for Strings from Theresienstadt itself. The songs were dramatic, particularly The moon is far from home, where the bare bones of Middleton’s left-hand line supported the powerful vocal. The discomfort and distorted imagery of A sleepless night were similarly vivid.

Finally Ilse Weber, the nurse who opted to travel with her young children to Auschwitz, was represented by Wiegala (Cradle Song), a touching sweetness lent to the upper piano part and a moving simplicity to Wallfisch’s reading.

Complementing the four Terezin composers was the music of Brahms, whose last work for voice, the 4 Serious Songs Op.121, were heard in a concert in the ghetto. Their gravitas here was only enhanced by the composer’s sense of mortality, Wallfisch singing with poise and power. The final word, however, was left to Ravel, whose Kaddisch was a potent memorial, Wallfisch commanding through his intonation and ornamentation.

A prolonged silence followed; the only appropriate response to a deeply moving concert. Here, in spite of the horrors suffered by the composers and the subjects of the readings, it was possible to appreciate their resolve and enduring talent, their lights somehow undimmed. Here they were remembered with the utmost respect and appreciation, and I for one shall never forget it.

Published post no.2,781 – Tuesday 27 January 2026

On Record – Sarah Beth Briggs: Small Treasures (AVIE)

by Ben Hogwood

What’s the story?

Small Treasures presents a typically inventive programme compiled by pianist Sarah Beth Briggs. In it she presents works by a trio of inseparable Romantic composers, with late-ish Robert Schumann, lesser-heard Clara Schumann and very late Brahms, his final compositions for solo piano.

Complementing these are thoughts from two members of Les Six, Germaine Tailleferre and Francis Poulenc – with the bonus of a cheeky encore from Mozart.

What’s the music like?

In a word, lovely. Briggs is a strong communicator, and finds the personal heart of Schumann’s Waldszenen – which is actually quite a Christmassy set of pieces. She particularly enjoys the intimacy of character pieces like Einsame Blumen (Lonely Flowers) and the delicate but rather haunting Vogel als Prophet (The Prophet Bird), beautifully played here.

A tender account of Robert’s Arabeske is a welcome bonus, an intimate counterpart to the more extrovert Impromptu of Clara. Written in c1844, the piece floats freely on the air in Briggs’s hands. By contrast the Larghetto, first of the Quatre Pièces Fugitives, inhabits a more confidential world, one furthered by a restless ‘un poco agitato’. The Andante espressivo, easily the most substantial of the four, is more serene, and it is tempting to draw a link between this and the mood of Robert’s Traumerei, from Kinderszenen. The Scherzo with which the quartet finishes is charmingly elusive, with clarity the watchword of this interpretation,  

Poulenc’s Trois Novelettes are typically mischievous and elegant by turn, spicy harmonies and bittersweet melodies complementing each other, before Tailleferre’s Sicilienne, a charming triple-time excursion with a bittersweet edge.

The Brahms Op.119 pieces are serious but have plenty of air too, and the final majestic Rhapsody is grand but not over-imposing, Briggs resisting the temptation to go for volume over expression.

Does it all work?

It does – and the album is easy to listen to the whole way through, the lightness of the Mozart Eine Kleine Gigue complementing the Brahms at the end. Some of the classic recordings of the Brahms and Schumann pieces arguably find more angst, but these finely played accounts are a treat, especially in context.

Is it recommended?

It is. Rather than visit a playlist on your go-to streaming service, you can just put this album on to create a very satisfying recital. Small Treasures, indeed – as is Sarah’s dog, who joins her on the album artwork!

Listen / Buy

You can listen to Small Treasures on Tidal here, while you can explore purchase options on the Presto website

Published post no.2,756 – Monday 22 December 2025

On this day – the first performance of Brahms’ Piano Concerto no.2

by Ben Hogwood

On this day in 1881, Johannes Brahms took to the stage to play in the world premiere of his Piano Concerto no.2 in B flat major, Op.83, with Alexander Erkel conducting the Budapest Philharmonic Orchestra.

The concerto is one of the biggest in the repertoire. Set in four movements and lasting well over 40 minutes, it is more symphonic in structure, with demands of stamina and technique for the soloist that complement the more tempestuous Piano Concerto no.1.

The Second is a more obviously graceful work, from the lilting horn theme at the start to its elegant slow movement, where a solo cello plays a particularly beautiful melody. There are moments of grandeur – especially in the first two movements – while the finale is a dance, light on its feet and brimming with good spirits.

You can listen to a performance below from Yefim Bronfman, with Sir Antonio Pappano conducting the Verbier Festival Orchestra:

Published post no.2,713 – Sunday 9 November 2025