Tag Archives: Ludwig van Beethoven

In Concert – Alina Ibragimova & Cédric Tiberghien @ Wigmore Hall: Janáček, Enescu, Barry & Beethoven

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Alina Ibragimova (violin), Cédric Tiberghien (piano)

Janáček Violin Sonata in G sharp minor JW VII/7 (1913-15, rev. 1916-22)
Enescu Violin Sonata no.3 in A minor Op.25 ‘Dans le caractère populaire roumain’ (1926)
Barry Triorchic Blues (1990, rev. 1992)
Beethoven Violin Sonata no.9 in A major Op.47 ‘Kreutzer’ (1802-03)

Wigmore Hall, London
Saturday 28 September 2024

Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse

The duo of Alina Ibragimova and Cédric Tiberghien has offered some memorable recitals at Wigmore Hall during the past few seasons, with this evening’s typically diverse programme ranging over almost two centuries of compositions for the combination of violin and piano.

A first half of complementary opposites began with the Violin Sonata by Janáček. Ensuring cohesion across its four highly contrasted movements is no easy task, but the present artists succeeded admirably in this respect. Thus, the opening Con moto had an edgy ambivalence which was allayed in the Ballada – its relative repose and expressive warmth infused with a nostalgia as likely reflects the composer’s youth (and may indeed derive from one of those long-lost sonatas written while studying in Leipzig and Vienna 35 years earlier). Despite its marking, the Allegretto is a tensile scherzo whose frequently combative interplay was much in evidence here; the final Adagio then pivoting between stark plangency and a heightened eloquence which subsided into an ending whose muted regret was unmistakably to the fore.

Whatever the conceptual or aesthetic gulf between them, Enescu’s Third Sonata followed on with some inevitability. This was inspired by and recreates without quoting traditional music, as its subtitle duly indicates, and Ibragimova was alive to the musing inwardness of an initial Moderato whose ‘malinconico’ consistently undercuts any formal or expressive resolution up to a close where the songful and dance-like themes disperse into silence. The highlight was a central Andante of sustained though unforced intensity, its improvisatory aspect a stern test of coordination violinist and pianist met head-on. Almost as compelling, the final Allegro lacked a degree of inevitability in its unfolding – Tiberghien’s superbly articulated pianism less than implacable at the close, for all that Ibragimova conveyed its ominous ecstasy in full measure.

Beginning life as a test-piece for solo piano and adapted for numerous media, Triorchic Blues is Gerald Barry at his most uninhibited and would have made an ideal encore in this context – but its ever more scintillating opposition of instruments was not out of place after the interval.

This second half ended with the grandest of Beethoven’s violin sonatas, its ‘Kreutzer’ subtitle misleading yet indicative of this music’s inherent virtuosity. Ibragimova and Tiberghien made an impressive cycle of these works for the Wigmore’s own label, so it was surprising to find them at slightly below their best here. Not in the central Andante con variazioni, its judicious fusion of slow movement and scherzo rendered with unfailing poise and an acute sense of the profundity drawn out of so unassuming a theme. Yet, after its suitably arresting introduction, the first movement lacked drama – the duo playing down its rhetoric not least in a less than impulsive coda. The relentless tarantella-rhythm that underpins the finale felt similarly reined in with, again, too little of an emotional frisson as this music vividly reinforces the home-key.

What was never in doubt was their quality of playing individually and collectively, making one anticipate future recitals by these artists which will hopefully find them exploring more of that extraordinary corpus of music for violin and piano of the early and mid-20th century.

For more on the Autumn season visit the Wigmore Hall website. For more on the artists, click on the names Alina Ibragimova (violin), Cédric Tiberghien (piano), and click here for more on composer Gerald Barry

Published post no.2,316 – Sunday 22 September 2024

Summer serenades: Beethoven

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This Sunday Arcana’s look at the serenade alights, perhaps unexpectedly, on Beethoven. While he didn’t write in the form anywhere near as comprehensively as Mozart, Beethoven did nonetheless complete a multi-movement serenade for an unusual trio of instruments.

When Arcana visited the Serenade as part of our ongoing Beethoven series, we found that “the air of Spring, so prevalent in the sonata for piano and violin of the same name, is here in abundance too. The bright sound of the flute is one of the reasons for this, but so are the busy parts Beethoven assigns to violin and viola. There are few if any breaks for the instruments, and because of the almost complete lack of a bass instrument the piece has the lightest of textures.”

Published post no.2,239 – Sunday 16 July 2024

In concert – Martin Fröst, Janine Jansen, LSO / Gianandrea Noseda: Lost and Found @ Barbican Hall

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Martin Fröst (clarinet), Janine Jansen (violin), London Symphony Orchestra / Gianandrea Noseda

Beethoven Leonore Overture no.3 Op.72b (1806)
Beamish Distans: Concerto for violin and clarinet (UK premiere) (2023)
Prokofiev Symphony no.7 in C# minor Op.131 (1952)

Barbican Hall, London
Thursday 20 June 2024

Reviewed by Ben Hogwood Pictures (c) Mark Allan

The London Symphony Orchestra and their principal guest conductor Gianandrea Noseda continued their Prokofiev symphony cycle with the elusive Seventh, prefaced by one of Beethoven’s four operatic overtures and a finally realised UK premiere.

This was Distans, a co-commission between four orchestras for Sally Beamish to write a concerto for the unusual combination of clarinet and violin. Its first performance was delayed due to the pandemic, which became the inspiration for the content of the work. Themes of separation run through the three movements, drawing on the composer’s Swedish and Scottish connections. Separated from her children during lockdown, Beamish also used the forceful musical personalities of soloists Martin Fröst and Janine Jansen (both above) for inspiration.

The two began offstage, however, beckoning to each other across the Barbican Hall as Calling, the first movement, took shape. This was named in the concert notes as ‘kulning’, “the high-pitched singing of women calling the calls on remote pastures”. Beamish’s wide-angle musical lens produced an effective and touching first paragraph, the soloists eventually united on stage in music of the dance, evoking a Swedish fiddle with the full weight and energy of the orchestra in support.

Echoing, the slow second movement, explored more intense feelings of isolation through beautiful scoring, earthy cellos and metallic percussion casting a rarefied light suggesting a Swedish winter. The third movement, Journeying, was powered by an ancient march, the soloists together in spirit and melody, out in the elements with the orchestra. Although the music of beckoning reappeared, the mood was one of reunification, the soloists now at peace and content to remain on stage.

Distans made a strong impact in the hall, and Beamish’s writing for clarinet in her first major piece for the instrument made the most of Martin Fröst’s extraordinary breath control and agility. Jansen also fully inhabited the spirit of the piece, though her part often felt within that of the clarinet, and rarely used the high register. This was definitely a work to hear again, for Beamish’s sound world is a very attractive one in concert.

After the interval, Prokofiev’s Seventh Symphony was given an affectionate performance, yet one that also found the darkness lurking within. One of Prokofiev’s final works, the Seventh was written for the Soviet Children’s Radio Division, and as a result adopts a youthful stance, with commendably little room for nostalgia. Instead the composer gets up to his characteristically witty tricks, with inventive scoring enjoyed by the orchestra as woodwind doubled in octaves, and the piano and harp supplemented lower strings.

The music danced, a reminder of Prokofiev’s balletic qualities. The second movement Allegretto had poise in its first tune but a heavier swagger in the second, suggesting the unpredictable movements of older age – though an impressively powerful and assured close was reached. The following Andante enjoyed rich string colours, together with brilliant individual characterisations from oboe (Juliana Koch) and cor anglais (Clément Noël).

Yet the abiding memories came from two themes used in the outer movements. The first, a sweeping unison for orchestra, lovingly recreates the key and spirit of the composer’s first piano concerto, one of his greatest early successes – and was delivered with great charm here. The second, a cautionary motif from flute and glockenspiel resembling a ticking clock, returned like a regretful memory at the end – reminding this listener of an equivalent moment in Shostakovich’s last symphony, completed nearly 20 years later. It ended this performance on a thoughtful note, in spite of the exuberance that had gone before. The LSO were excellent throughout, presenting a convincing case for the Seventh as a bittersweet triumph, and reminding us in the process of Prokofiev’s abundance as a melodic composer.

Meanwhile Beethoven’s Leonore Overture no.3 began in a more desperate mood of resignation, the opera’s main character Florestan losing all hope in prison. Noseda – fresh from recording a symphony cycle with the National Symphony Orchestra in Washington – has very strong Beethovenian instincts, and paced this just right, with an appropriate hush falling over the hall. As the drama heightened, and an evocative offstage trumpet beckoned, the release from prison led to an outpouring of joy, sweeping us up in its forward momentum. The players were off the leash, enjoying every second.

You can find more information on further 2023/24 concerts at the London Symphony Orchestra website

Published post no.2,216 – Friday 21 June 2024

In concert – Mark Bebbington, Czech National Symphony Orchestra / Steven Mercurio: Delius, Beethoven, Smetana & Dvořák @ Symphony Hall, Birmingham

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Mark Bebbington (piano, below), Czech National Symphony Orchestra / Steven Mercurio

Delius The Walk to the Paradise Garden (1906)
Beethoven Piano Concerto no.5 in E flat Op.73 ‘Emperor’ (1809)
Smetana Má vlast – Vltava (1874)
Dvořák Symphony no.8 in G major Op.88 (1889)

Symphony Hall, Birmingham
Tuesday 21 May 2024

Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse

Although it might not see the number of visiting orchestras that it once did, Symphony Hall still hosts a number of such concerts and the season’s representation ended tonight with this welcome appearance by the Czech National Symphony Orchestra and music director Steven Mercurio.

Opening with Delius’ The Walk to the Paradise Garden (from his opera A Village Romeo and Juliet) found these players evincing real affinity with its powerful if elusive idiom, Mercurio securing a poetic response from the woodwind and no mean ardour during its climactic stages.

Despite coming from and being based in or around Birmingham for most of his career, Mark Bebbington (above) is less known locally than he might be and his account of Beethoven’s Emperor Concerto confirmed a sure grasp of its expansive formal structure, with his secure and never inflexible technique more than equal to its pianistic demands. After those commanding initial exchanges, the initial Allegro felt just a little under-characterized until hitting its stride in the development; from where this reading proceeded with tangible conviction through to an agile ‘anti-cadenza’ then combative coda. The Adagio’s winsome variations could have had greater inner rapture, yet the eloquence of Bebbington’s response was not in doubt while the hushed transition into the Rondo produced an emotional frisson as carried through this finale overall.

Throughout the movement, Bebbington’s scintillating pianism duly galvanized the CNSO into a forthright response right up to the life-affirming close – after which, he acknowledged the enthusiastic applause with his limpid take on Chopin’s Nocturne (no.20) in C sharp minor.

Following the interval, Czech music not unreasonably took centre-stage. The players might have been surprised by reference to the ‘Moldau’, but Mercurio directed a fluent Vltava with such passages as its wedding dance or traversal of St John’s Rapids nothing if not evocative.

Having been at the helm of the CNSO since March 2019 (in succession to the much-missed Libor Pešek), Mercurio has certainly put his own stamp on its repertoire and presentation. He gave an account of Dvořák’s Eighth Symphony (sometimes referred to as the ‘English’ due to being published by Novello, but actually the most Czech-sounding of his mature symphonies) that, if affording few revelations, underlined its structural innovations as surely as its melodic immediacy. The opening Allegro made a virtue out of eliding the customary formal divisions on route to a resounding peroration, then the Adagio was even finer for the way that its pathos and grandeur were melded into a seamless and methodical yet cumulative design; one where the composer’s Romantic instincts and his Classical inclinations find especially potent accord.

The lilting Allegretto sees Dvořák at its most felicitous – Mercurio aptly taking its boisterous pay-off as a lead-in to the final Allegro, with its variations on an easeful theme for the strings that ingeniously shadow the outline of a sonata design prior to a coda of headlong brilliance.

Conductor and orchestra duly responded with two encores – a rhythmically incisive piece by Iranian-Canadian composer Iman Habibi, then a bossa nova as gave first trumpet and CSNO co-founder Jan Hasenöhrl the spotlight and brought the whole evening gently down to earth.

Click on the names to read more about the Czech National Symphony Orchestra, conductor Steven Mercurio, pianist Mark Bebbington and composer / pianist Iman Habibi

Published post no.2,186 – Wednesday 22 May 2024

In concert – Seong-Jin Cho, London Philharmonic Orchestra / Edward Gardner: Wagner, Beethoven & Tippett

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Seong-Jin Cho (piano), London Philharmonic Orchestra / Edward Gardner

Wagner Parsifal – Prelude to Act One (1878)
Beethoven Piano Concerto no.4 in G major Op.58 (1805-6)
Tippett Symphony no. 2 (1956-7)

Symphony Hall, Birmingham
Wednesday 10 April 2024

Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse

Although the London Philharmonic Orchestra’s ongoing season might not have been among its most enterprising, this evening’s concert confirmed how Edward Gardner is influencing both this orchestra’s programmes and its approach to standard repertoire as well as modern classics.

Beginning with the Prelude from Wagner’s Parsifal is certainly playing for high stakes and, while it afforded no revelations, this performance seemed nothing if not aware of the piece’s searching grandeur where the placing of motifs and those silences between them is crucial to its overall cohesion. A pity, perhaps, that Gardner opted for the ‘concert ending’ in which the close of the first act is laminated onto what went before instead of merely allowing the music to remain in expectancy, but this detracted only slightly from the majesty of what was heard.

Beethoven’s Fourth Piano Concerto then provided a perfect foil, not least in a performance so attentive to the interplay between soloist and orchestra. It helped that Seong-Jin Cho, winner of the Chopin International Competition in 2015, had an innate feeling for that ‘give and take’ necessary in this most integrated of the cycle; his fastidious while never uninvolving pianism heard to advantage over an initial movement where gradual evolution was uppermost, though his take on Beethoven’s earlier and less capricious cadenza was not lacking virtuosity. He and Gardner were at one in conveying the elemental call-and-response of the Andante, a brief but profound entry into a final Rondo whose vivacity was judiciously balanced with a ruminative poise, where lower woodwinds and strings emerged at the fore prior to the exhilarating close.

Some 66 years following its problematic premiere (restarted after a collapse of ensemble just minutes in), Tippett’s Second Symphony now enjoys regular revival though it could hardly be said to play itself. A keen advocate of this composer (witness his acclaimed recording of The Midsummer Marriage), Gardner paced the opening Allegro unerringly – pointing up contrast between its vigorous and yielding themes, while securing the requisite impetus in its lengthy development then a surging energy in its coda. Punctuated by Paul Beniston’s superb trumpet playing, the Adagio was almost as fine even if a slower underlying tempo might have brought even more depth to some of Tippett’s most evocative and spellbinding music; not least during its central build-up in the strings to a climax whose stark curtailing feels more than prescient.

Reservations as such centred on the Presto – undeniably well articulated in terms of rhythmic precision, while lacking the swiftness or velocity for its obsessive interplay and its Dionysiac culmination really to hit home. By contrast, the final Allegro was far from the anti-climax it can seem. Gardner had its measure from the jazzy introduction, via an inventive sequence of variations then sensuously descending melody on strings against shimmering woodwinds, to those cumulative ‘gestures of farewell’ that ended this performance in ecstatic ambivalence.

If not definitive, this was certainly an absorbing and memorable account as will hopefully be made available on the LPO’s own label (the concert having been broadcast live on Radio 3): one that rounded off what proved to be a judiciously planned and finely executed programme.

Click on the link to read more on the current LPO concert season, and on the names for more on pianist Seong-Jin Cho, conductor Edward Gardner and a website devoted to composer Sir Michael Tippett. The LPO’s new recording of The Midsummer Marriage can be found here

Published post no.2,148 – Sunday 14 April 2024