Arcana at the Proms – Prom 10: Laura van der Heijden, BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra & Ryan Wigglesworth – Britten, Frances-Hoad & Elgar

Britten Gloriana – Symphonic Suite Op.53a (1953)
Frances-Hoad Cello Concerto ‘Earth, Sea, Air’ (2022) [Proms Premiere]
Elgar Symphony no.2 in E flat major Op.63 (1909-11)

Laura van der Heijden (cello), BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra / Ryan Wigglesworth

Royal Albert Hall, London
Friday 26 July 2024

reviewed by Richard Whitehouse

He might not be the only composer-conductor of his generation, but Ryan Wigglesworth has rapidly established himself among the best – as this concert with the BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra, whose chief conductor he has been over these past two seasons, amply confirmed.

Other than Peter Grimes, the coolly received Gloriana was his only opera from which Britten extracted a concert suite. The vaunting syncopation of Tournament then wrenching fatalism of Gloriana moritura make for a telling framework, with this account at its most perceptive in the wistful poise of the Lute Song – the oboe being an eloquent replacement for the tenor thanks to Stella McCracken – then the evocative sequence of Courtly Dances where Britten effortlessly bridges the historical and the aesthetic divide between the eras of two Elizabeths.

Next a first Proms hearing (just over a year after its Glasgow premiere) for the Cello Concerto by Cheryl Frances-Hoad. Drawing inspiration from recent research into diverse aspects of the natural world, the three continuous movements provide an arresting vantage on an outwardly traditional form. Hence the trajectory of swifts in flight, carbon-absorbing algae over oceanic expanses and gravitational force of volcanic activity each influencing the musical content of a rhythmically impulsive Allegro, harmonically diaphanous Larghetto and melodically soaring Presto giocoso; the whole afforded unity through its composer’s motivic resourcefulness and the engaging commitment of Laura van der Heijden (above) in her realizing of its solo part. She then responded to deserved applause with a limpid reading of Pablo Casals’ The Song of the Birds.

Elgar is a composer evidently close to Wigglesworth’s heart and this evening’s account of his Second Symphony did not disappoint. Launched a little too circumspectly, the initial Allegro duly found a persuasive balance between bounding energy and that musing uncertainty to the fore in the otherworldly processional near its centre. Its overall extroversion was countered by the Larghetto – circumstantial association with the death of Edward VII having tempted many into a funereal pacing but not Wigglesworth, whose handling of its cumulative halves brought sustained emotional intensity framed by the stark lamentation with which it begins and ends.

One of Elgar’s most formally subtle and expressively audacious movements, the scherzo had the requisite impetuousness and nonchalance, thrown into relief by the mechanistic violence towards its core and unnerving energy at its close. Moderate in tempo and not overly majestic in outlook the finale might have been thought anti-climactic, but Wigglesworth’s keen sense of its long-term unfolding emerged in the searching ambivalence of its development and the understated grandeur of a peroration which did not require reinforcing with an organ pedal. Those closing pages could have yielded even greater pathos, but their suffused fatalism was wholly in accord with the conductor’s conception of this movement, as of the work overall.

Just over a year before, Wigglesworth presided over an inspirational account in Birmingham of The Dream of Gerontius. Tonight’s performance of the Second Symphony might not have been quite its equal, but it more than confirmed him as an Elgar interpreter of genuine stature.

For more on this year’s festival, visit the BBC Proms website – and for more on the artists involved, click on the names to read more about Laura van der Heijden, the BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra and conductor Ryan Wigglesworth, and composer Cheryl Frances-Hoad

Published post no.2,253 – Sunday 28 July 2024

In concert – Laura van der Heijden, CBSO / Richard Egarr: Bach, Haydn & Schumann

Laura van der Heijden (cello, above), City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra / Richard Egarr (harpsichord)

J.S. Bach Orchestral Suite no.3 in D major BWV1068 (1730)
Haydn Cello Concerto in D major Hob.VIIb/2 (1784)
J.S. Bach Fuga a tre sogetti BWV1080 no.19 (1748-9)
Schumann Symphony no.2 in C major Op.61 (1845-6)

Symphony Hall, Birmingham
Tuesday 14 November 2023

Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse

The City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra has put on smaller-scale concerts over several seasons, and tonight’s wide-ranging programme saw the players being conducted or directed – and frequently at the same time – by the personable and always enthusiastic Richard Egarr.

Egarr and Laura van der Heijden ensured Haydn’s Cello Concerto in D remained unaffected by that understatement, bordering on somnolence, which so often used to characterize it in performance. Although a staple of its repertoire from the outset, it was only discovery of its autograph in 1951 that confirmed it as by Haydn rather than Anton Kraft who had reworked the solo part extensively. Here the initial Allegro had a vibrancy that never wavered, and if Van der Heijden’s tone was not always flattering, the impetus instilled into its development and cadenza (by Colin Matthews?) ensured this movement’s vivid projection. The brief yet eloquent Adagio was enticingly rendered, while the final Rondo had an agility maintained from the first appearance of its indelible theme through to the buoyancy of its closing bars.

Egarr had opened proceedings with Bach’s Third Orchestral Suite, welcome not least because this composer’s orchestral works (other than his Violin Concertos) are seldom encountered at ‘mainstream’ concerts these days. Although its Aria (Air on the G string) – rendered so that its pathos never cloyed – will always be its chief attraction, the Ouverture had grandeur and energy redolent of Handel, then the alternate Gavotte movements evinced a genial humour to which the boisterous Gigue with its clarion-like trumpet writing made an admirable foil. After the interval, an unexpected but absorbing take on the final and unfinished fugue from Bach’s The Art of Fugue. Once more speculated on than actually heard, Contrapunctus XIV remains a fete of technical and imaginative dexterity arguably intensified by its breaking off just after the appearance of the B-A-C-H motif. Whether abandoned from failing eyesight or for reasons of intellectual game-playing, its fascination remains endless and, as heard in this lucid if dour transcription for strings, its fusing of the visceral with the arcane is not in doubt.

Richard Egarr Photo: Marco Borggreve

Not an inappropriate entrée, moreover, to Schumann’s Second Symphony: formally the most rigorous of this composer’s cycle, and one whose historical or aesthetic lineage is evident at every level. Egarr ensured the first movement’s lengthy introduction, pensive yet expectant, led seamlessly into a main Allegro whose momentum carried through to a propulsive close; then into a Scherzo whose pivoting between the agitated and whimsical was not resolved by its headlong coda – superbly articulated here. Nor was there any lack of emotional gravitas in the Adagio, surely among Schumann’s most potent creations, though Egarr’s not always tacit encouragement of applause between movements rather undermined the expectancy of a coda being fulfilled by the final Allegro as this sets out on its joyous while always eventful course.

Just on occasion the inevitability of that course seemed to lose focus, most likely as Egarr’s concept of ‘authenticity’ tended to impede more seamless formal cohesion – but, as the piece headed to its close, a sense of affirmation in the face of daunting odds could hardly be denied.

You can read all about the 2023/24 season and book tickets at the CBSO website. Click on the artist names for more information on cellist Laura van der Heijden and conductor / harpsichordist Richard Egarr

Published post no.1,998 – Friday 3 November 2023

In concert – Laura van der Heijden & Jâms Coleman @ Wigmore Hall – Pohádka: Tales from Prague to Budapest

Laura van der Heijden (cello), Jâms Coleman (piano)

Janáček Pohádka (1910, rev. 1912-23)
Dvořák Gypsy Songs Op. 55: Songs my mother taught me (1880)
Kaprálová Navždy from Navždy Op. 12 (1936-7)
Mihály Movement for cello and piano (1962)
Kodály 3 Songs to Poems by Bela Balazs Op. posth.: Why are you saying that you do not love me (1907-9); Énekszó Op. 1: Slender is a silk thread (1907-9)
Sonatina for cello and piano (1909)
Janáček Violin Sonata (1914-15, rev.1916-22)

Wigmore Hall, London, 9 March 2022

reviewed by Ben Hogwood Pictures (c) Olivia Da Costa (Laura van der Heijden), Sim Canetty-Clarke (Jâms Coleman)

It bears repeating that times are tough for new artists in music. Competition is fierce, while opportunities for live performance and recording have been severely hampered over the last two years of lockdown and pandemic restrictions. How refreshing, then, to talk about two new artists, a long term agreement with Chandos and a chamber music album notable for its originality and depth of expression.

The new artists, cellist Laura van der Heijden and her musical partner, pianist Jâms Coleman, have been performing together since 2017. Their debut album, for which this concert was an official launch, looks at music from Central and Eastern Europe with its roots in folk, either written directly for cello and piano or falling naturally into a vocal range.

The album shares its title, Pohádka, with a three-part fairy tale for cello and piano by Janáček, based on a Russian tale. This began the concert, a picture book performance bringing the story to life with sharp characterisation and flair. Janacek used a good deal of his music to explore macabre storylines and this was no exception, though the lighter, more lyrical moments were good fun. van der Heijden’s tone was sonorous and projected easily to the back of the hall, while Coleman’s stylish playing was capped with limpid work in the second section.

We then heard arrangements of two songs from Dvořák and Vítězslava Kaprálová as an idea complement, the former transcribing beautifully from voice to cello, with tasteful ornamentation from the cello. It was good to hear more of Kaprálová, a talented Czech composer who tragically died from tuberculosis when she was just 25. Her music immediately cast a spell, Coleman’s mysterious chords matched by a remote but moving line from the cello in its higher register.

Different qualities were required for the music of Hungarian composer and conductor András Mihály. His Movement for cello and piano was a dramatic rollercoaster, and rather volatile at times – reflecting perhaps the differing styles at play in modern music when it was written in 1962. While there were undoubtedly elements of Bartók and even Webern in the music’s contours, which veered into atonality at times, there was a fierce expression suggesting Mihály’s music should be explored further. Both players responded with a terrific performance, mastering the technical demands.

Zoltán Kodály was also an influence on Mihály, and his music suits the cello hand in glove, whether in large-scale sonatas or shorter, folk-informed songs. We heard two songs here, the cello a doleful voice for Why are you saying that you do not love me, while Slender is a silk thread found Coleman beautifully spinning out the silvery tale. However the single-movement Sonatina for cello and piano, at just under 10 minutes, made a lasting impression with its passion, profound lyricism and subtle melancholy. The performers’ love for this piece was clear, and the high voltage account found them finishing each other’s musical sentences.

The same could be said for Janáček’s Violin Sonata, a pungent piece whose proximity to World War One is evident in the rapid fire of its phrases. The composer’s unusual musical language was once again wholly compelling, with broad lyrical statements countered by strange, abrupt full stops to his melodies. The parallels with the current situation in Ukraine were impossible to ignore, especially with the emotion both players brought to the second movement Ballada, its sweeping melodies reaching skyward. Ultimately the acidic third and fourth movements cast a cloud over the mood, the players vividly depicting the distant sound of gunfire alongside more thoughtful introspection. van der Heijden was commendably modest about her own arrangement of the Sonata, for cello and piano, an extremely successful version losing none of the intensity or fractious treble phrases. Both players were superb, their virtuosity and togetherness notable throughout.

This was an extremely rewarding concert, energetic and romantic in turn but also thought-provoking through its wartime undercurrents. Laura van der Heijden and Jâms Coleman deserve great credit for their refreshing take on a chamber music album, which bodes well for their ongoing relationship with one of Britain’s best classical independents. Theirs is a partnership to watch closely.

Watch and listen