Prom 69 – Baiba Skride, Boston SO / Andris Nelsons – Bernstein Serenade & Shostakovich Symphony no.4

Prom 69 Baiba Skride (violin, below), Boston Symphony OrchestraAndris Nelsons (above)

Bernstein Serenade (after ‘Symposium’) (1954)
Shostakovich Symphony no.4 in C minor Op.43 (1936)

Royal Albert Hall, Monday 3 September 2018

Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse

You can listen to this Prom on the BBC Proms website here

The second of the Boston Symphony’s Proms, with its music director Andris Nelsons, offered a pertinent coupling which played to this orchestra’s strengths, while also suggesting that the interpretive insights of this much-lauded partnership are by no means to be taken for granted.

Time was when Bernstein’s Serenade was something of a rarity in live performance, but what is surely its composer’s most successful piece for the concert hall had come into its own well before the onset of his centenary celebrations. This sequence inspired by (though not indebted to) Plato’s consideration of Love in his Symposium was a gift on which Bernstein seized with alacrity, condensing its seven eulogies into five movements such as amount to a varied while cohesive totality to which he aspired without equalling in the concert music of his later years.

Baiba Skride proved a sympathetic exponent, segueing deftly from the lyricism of Phaedrus to the incisiveness of Pausanias and savouring the whimsical irony of Aristophanes. The fussiness of Erixymachus was pertly done and eloquence of Agathon not unduly emotive, for all its expansiveness; the finale almost achieving unity in the rumination of Socrates as overtaken by the ebullience of Alcibiades. Nelsons secured an engaging response from the reduced strings, while keeping some over-effusive percussion writing within sensible limits.

A pity that the sizable audience was not ideally attentive, suggesting that Bernstein as concert composer was less to its liking than when in ‘musical’ mode. It seemed rather more focussed for Shostakovich’s Symphony no.4 – an era-defining piece kept under wraps for a quarter-century after its completion, before gradually making its way into the 20th-century repertoire where it has been ever since. Subversive and despairing in equal measure, it duly received a commanding account where the BSO conveyed both visceral power and fastidious ensemble.

Were these the deciding factors of a great performance, this would assuredly have been one. Yet behind the formidable technical façade was a lack of empathy with this most emotionally charged of symphonies, not least a first movement whose stark alternations of Stravinskian energy and Mahlerian anguish Nelsons drew into a formally unified if expressively uniform whole. With its subtler pivoting between anxiety and elegance, the central intermezzo was finely rendered, even if its closing percussion ostinato was neither sardonic nor speculative.

Come the finale and Nelsons found an ideal tempo for its opening funeral march, though its overtones of heroism and plangency felt passed over on the way into a toccata section which lacked cumulative intensity for all its incisiveness. The ensuing divertimento gave several of the orchestra’s principals their moment in the spotlight that they took with panache, then the entry of duelling timpani was clumsily prepared going into a peroration as was imposing but never inexorable; the postlude which follows one of somnolence rather than numbed despair.

As so often this season, there was no encore – Nelsons purposely extending the silence at the close of the Shostakovich as its own epitaph. It set the seal on a lucidly conceived and superbly executed reading that yet missed out on what makes this piece an experience like few others.

Ask the Audience at the BBC Proms – Jak Hussain on the Minnesota Orchestra’s concert of American music

For the latest in Arcana’s Ask The Audience series Jak Hussain gives his verdict on the Minnesota Orchestra and their Prom in tribute to Leonard Bernstein.

Prom 31: Inon Barnatan (piano), Minnesota Orchestra / Osmo Vänskä

Bernstein Candide Overture (1989)
Gershwin Piano Concerto in F major (1925)
Ives Symphony no.2 (1897-1902, 1950)

Royal Albert Hall, Monday 6 August 2018

You can listen to this Prom on the BBC iPlayer here

ARCANA: Jak, how would you describe your musical upbringing?

My musical upbringing is Top of the Pops and The Chart Show, on a Thursday and Saturday. When we were all growing up we didn’t have much money to buy albums, and one of my earliest memories is my elder brother borrowing a tape recorder. We had two and he used them to record the Top 40 from one radio to another. Music was something that was in our house but it wasn’t a necessity to buy an album…but I remember my older sister used to listen to George Michael and Wham!, and everyone would gather round the television to watch Top Of The Pops in the early 1980s. We would sit there and watch when they came on, and that’s where I remember music the earliest.

Then The Chart Show on a Saturday morning – those were my outlet for music. It was an actual event to watch on Thursdays who would be the number one!
After that my sister got married, and her husband brought in the rest of it – easy listening, classic rock, and that’s what made me start listening to other genres – classical Indian music too. It all grew from there. My mum listens to traditional classical pieces from Bangladesh and India, and I think she is a lover of classical music, though she decided not to come to the Proms with me – she said no, take your wife!

Name three musical acts you love and why:

One is Jeff Buckley, one of my favourite artists of all time – and I love him because of the sweet and sour of his music. He made one album in his lifetime which is an absolutely sublime masterpiece, and then he passed away tragically. That masterpiece has left a legacy though. I reluctantly listen to the other pieces that have come out, because it’s his unfinished work, so it pains me to listen to it. It’s not how he would have liked it. That one album is sublime though, and fuses Western and Eastern music. One of his heaviest influences on that album is Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan – his Elvis Presley. You’ll notice that his vocal range is based on the Indian Raga scales.

The second one would be the band Queens Of The Stone Age. I think it’s Josh Homme’s voice more than anything, and the productions of his work.

The third would be film scores – they are my thing. I annoy my wife by telling her about composers and what music they’ve done, how they sound. John Williams uses a lot of horns, Thomas Newman a lot of piano, that sort of thing. I love film scores for what they evoke in the actual film they are trying to evoke. For me, film scores are the new classical music – they incorporate absolutely everything.

Where I grew up you were only supposed to like a certain genre of music, like hip hop or street culture. That wasn’t me – I like what I like! It doesn’t matter if it’s classical, pop music – something that evokes an emotion in you. This is what music is for me. You go through phases, and in my twenties I was very heavily into guitar band music, while my friends were listening to hip hop and drum and bass. I’d put a CD on in the car, of people like Jim Croce, Crosby Stills & Nash, stuff like that, and they would be “what are you listening to? This isn’t cool!” I think what’s better is that in my circle of friends their tastes actually grew, and rather than sticking to one genre they are receptive to different types, they’re appreciative of all genres, which I think is great.

Was this your first experience of the Proms in the Arena?

Yes. I had this misconception that it would be high brow, suited and booted – but it is very different to what I thought it would be. It’s absolutely brilliant, and shows you not to be judgemental about how things might me. It’s reverse snobbery! I had this idea of suits and ties, but it’s just people who love music. It sounds better in the arena than the seats, and you’re actually closer to the orchestra. You are a bit more detached in the circle and the boxes, it’s more regulated – but down here you can see what is going on.

What did you think of the Bernstein?

I’m familiar with West Side Story, but to answer that question I would put the first and second pieces as very similar. It reminds me of old Hollywood – and again movies from that era. One of them (the Gershwin Piano Concerto) reminded me of Cleopatra, when the drums were playing it made me think of the beginning credits. I remember watching these old movies with my dad and thinking they were brilliant, and that’s the whole thing with me liking movies, the scores make you remember the actual film. It stays with you, and so this music reminded me of a bygone era.

What did you think of the Ives?

The first couple of movements started off light and got heavier, but the last movement was the one I enjoyed the most. It had elements of Yankee Doodle, an American army tune that starts getting you going, and it ended absolutely brilliantly with the conductor jumping up and down to get the orchestra to make all the emotion he wanted. I loved the crescendo of sound, the military music – and then classical music all coming into it with a huge sound. I love the way they know how to lessen a tone in one part of the orchestra and bring it out elsewhere. I can’t read music so I don’t know how they do it, but it’s just amazing to see it come to life in front of you.

The thing that comes into my head with Ives is an image of a horse cantering. That’s the best way I can describe it! He goes from a minor key to a major key, and you think am I feeling sad or happy? I didn’t understand how some of it would go into a sombre mood and then it would go funny. In my head I have a structure of a piece of music – melancholy, happy or something – but here everything is in together. It works. With Gershwin I could understand the elements of jazz, but I didn’t understand if he was classical too. The music was great – it’s just the understanding of where it was going at the time. That was the first piece of Ives that I have heard though, and I really enjoyed it. I loved the end as well, it was one of those things where you think – should that be there?! I love delving into that sort of thing. Music is great, isn’t it?!

Verdict: SUCCESS

Prom 31 – Inon Barnatan, Minnesota Orchestra / Osmo Vänskä – Homage to Leonard Bernstein


Prom 31: Inon Barnatan (piano), Minnesota Orchestra / Osmo Vänskä

Bernstein Candide Overture (1989)
Gershwin Piano Concerto in F major (1925)
Ives Symphony no.2 (1897-1902, 1950)

Royal Albert Hall, Monday 6 August 2018

Reviewed by Ben Hogwood Photos (c) BBC/Chris Christodoulou

One of music’s greatest properties is making its listeners happy – and judging by the audience for the Minnesota Orchestra prom, wreathed in smiles as they left the Royal Albert Hall, this was an objective handsomely achieved by the orchestra and its music director Osmo Vänskä.

Making their first BBC Proms appearance since 2010, they had programmed a concert in honour of Leonard Bernstein the conductor, rather than the composer – but that still meant we got a chance to hear one of his most popular concert showstoppers, the Candide Overture. As a collection of catchy tunes and toe-tapping dance rhythms it is difficult to beat, and Vänskä conducted a performance light on its feet, affectionate and warm – if lacking a little of its composer’s highest spirits.

The performance of Gershwin’s Piano Concerto set that to rights. Taking the solo part was Inon Barnatan (above), whose command of the composer’s bluesy melodic style was well-nigh perfect. Gershwin is not thought of as key Vänskä repertoire but he brought to the orchestral passages a level of clarity that brought the streets of 1925 Manhattan into sharp, nocturnal focus. The string sound was exquisite, while the trumpet solo of Manny Laureano in the slow movement was brilliantly affected and played, fully deserving of its cheer at the end.

Barnatan was a box of tricks, at one moment thundering octaves down from on high, while in the other hanging onto the slow notes with great affection, as though unwilling to let them leave. The transparency of Vänskä’s conducting told of the influence Ravel has on some of Gershwin’s writing, but the swagger of the orchestra, leader Erin Keefe practically sitting next to Barnatan in a visual show of unity, was irrepressible. Barnatan gave us a perfectly positioned encore too, Earl Wild’s virtuoso study on I Got Rhythm.

The music of Charles Ives has barely popped its head above the parapet at the Proms, but here was a chance to enjoy a work premiered by Bernstein himself, conducting the New York Philharmonic Orchestra in 1951. It’s fair to say that Vänskä (above) secured a reading with a good deal more sobriety and control than the master might have done, but that’s not to say it was without flair and pure enjoyment.

The Minnesota Orchestra, once again playing with a smile, enjoyed the dense packing together of tunes in the symphony, while the strings dug into the serious first movement, setting out the case of a symphonic argument with impressive gravity. Once again Vänskä ensured they made a beautiful sound, the brass chorales ringing out with great surety, but as the symphony progressed so did the sense of convention edging nearer to the window.

This reaches its height at the climax of the fifth and final movement of course, and like the fast second this was taken at quite a lick, the music careering along as though about to lose its footing. And so it did, the last chord sounding its sharp clashes and some in the audience taken aback by Ives’ unexpected but wholly typical daring. Was it a mistake? Were we heading there all along? Yes and yes – and in that second, as booklet writer Paul Griffiths so aptly put it, ‘’Reveille’ was sounded’.

Yet there was one more surprise. As I write this the Minnesota Orchestra are on their way to South Africa to mark Nelson Mandela’s 100th birthday in a series of high profile concerts. They gave a wonderful send-off, an arrangement of the traditional South Africa song Shosholoza, with the players joined in song as well as with their instruments. It was a joyful revelation, upping the spirits still further – and ensuring we will track their movements in South Africa with great interest.

On record: James Taylor – The Rochester Mass (Cherry Red)

james-taylor

Ever felt the need for a ‘funk mass’? Well James Taylor has, and this year The Rochester Mass received its premiere at the Queen Elizabeth Hall in April, before a performance in the cathedral of its home city in June. It was the South Bank who commissioned the work, which James wrote in memory of his late father Clive. The recording features choristers from Rochester Cathedral, as well as the fulsome organ.

What’s the music like?

Rather curiously, Taylor opts to present the mass in reverse order, so we begin with the jerky motif of the Sanctus, working through the Agnus Dei (complete with flute cadenza) to the Benedictus, Gloria and finally the Kyrie.

There is more than a passing reference to Leonard Bernstein’s setting of the Mass, a much bigger work but one that also operates with a policy of musical freedom. James Taylor doesn’t let his music go in quite the same way Bernstein did, preferring to opt for a little more ecclesiastical control. This means he is not self-indulgent in the way so many of these adaptations can be (remember Rick Wakeman’s The Gospels?!) but that he still pushes a boundary or two.

Part two of the Sanctus shows that Taylor can achieve a really grand sound with choir and organ – there is an impressive climax – and the response is a kind of joyous wig-out that sounds a lot better than it reads on paper.

Does it all work?

More or less. It is quite difficult to work out what gives this piece a special connection with Rochester, other than the performers being from the Kent town – and it is not quite clear why Taylor felt the need to reverse the order of the movements. But these are perhaps over-fussy points, because the music itself is meaningful and direct, and achieves the difficult balance of bringing funk into more classical structures without losing its identity. It also has the obvious emotion generated by the passing of Taylor’s father.

On occasion the music can sound forced – the Agnus Dei Duet being a good example – but that is balanced by music of fresh spontaneity, such as the unexpectedly gorgeous Flute Cadenza linking Parts One and Two of the Agnus Dei. In the closing Kyrie you get the feeling Taylor has mastered the unusual blend of cathedral choir and funk group. A unique sound indeed!

Is it recommended?

Yes, if you want to hear something different – and if you want to hear a creative way of taking on one of music’s most traditional forms.

Listen

The Rochester Mass can be heard on Spotify here:

Patricia Petibon and Susan Manoff at the Wigmore Hall – La Belle Excentrique

petibon-manoff

Patricia Petibon (soprano) and Susan Manoff (piano) – La Belle Excentrique, Wigmore Hall, Wednesday 16 December 2015

Review by Ben Hogwood

It isn’t often you see a rubber chicken as part of a song recital, and I would wager one has not been seen on the Wigmore Hall stage for quite some time. If ever! But this wasn’t just any song recital, this was a concert where soprano Patricia Petibon and pianist Susan Manoff asked questions of their audience, expanding the format but making them laugh and cry in the process.

The concert, a memorable Wigmore debut for Petibon, reminded us how regimented and serious some song recitals can be. Not a criticism you understand, for sometimes it is only right and proper to sit and listen to a singer and pianist making music of raw emotion. It can be one of the very best live experiences in classical music. But this was so very different, Petibon and Manoff marrying humourous music with songs of deep emotion, punctuated with well-chosen piano pieces.

La Belle Excentrique was the title given to the recital, which fell neatly into two parts. Part one began with understated beauty, the crystalline music of one of Reynaldo Hahn’s finest songs A Chloris a daring way to start, especially when sung so quietly. Yet gradually it became clear Petibon was here to have some fun, the actions at the end of the third Hahn song Quand je fus pris au pavillon a notice of intent. Soon the soprano was barking (Manuel Rosenthal’s Fido, Fido) and then Manoff donned a trunk for the same composer’s story of L’éléphant du Jardin des Plantes, both brilliantly done. Hats were donned for songs by Satie and Poulenc, while charm and heart-rending emotion took hold in two wonderful songs by Fauré.

The second half also moved between extremes. France, Spain and the Swiss Alps dovetailed beautifully for songs of powerful impact from lesser-known composers such as Henri Collet and Fernando Obradors, as well as underrated song composers Joaquín Turina and Joseph Canteloube, whose Chants d’Auvergne have fallen out of fashion in the last few decades. Petibon’s performance of La delaïssádo (The forsaken girl) proved this to be an oversight, matched by exceptional playing from Manoff who effortlessly deconstructed the orchestral parts. Then we moved back to farce, and an exaggerated performance of Leonard Bernstein’s song cycle La Bonne Cuisine. For this, Petibon and Manoff went the whole hog by dressing up as chefs and using props relating to the food they were describing. It was hilarious! The recital ended with a no holds barred performance of Lara’s popular song Granada, before two encores – the popular French song Parlez-moi d’amour and a short excerpt, The Cat, from Ravel’s opera L’enfant et les sortileges.

These two performers were a breath of fresh air on the Wigmore Hall stage, heightening our appreciation for 20th century song while questioning the conventional format of the song recital. The strongest possible recommendation I can give lies in the fact I have since purchased two of Petibon’s albums on Deutsche Grammophon, La Belle Excentrique and Melancolia (see Spotify below!) – and would wholeheartedly recommend and Susan Banoff as a concert experience to completely blow away the cobwebs.