Tag Archives: music

In concert – ABBA Voyage @ ABBA Arena, London

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by Ben Hogwood photos courtesy of the ABBA Voyage website

An admission: I used to struggle with ABBA.

Although I loved the tunes to the likes of Money, Money, Money and Super Trouper – the first songs I can ever remember, from primary school discos, I started to see them as a bit too cheesy and found they were getting in the way of the house music I was obsessed with on university student nights.

What I have (so far) learned with age is that music tastes can change either subtly or unexpectedly, like a maturing whisky or a flavour that suddenly and unexpectedly hits the spot. And so it has been with ABBA, a feeling exemplified by a visit to the ABBA Voyage show on Saturday 8 November.

I wasn’t quite prepared for the emotional scale of what was about to come. Sure, the atmosphere in the arena beforehand was expectant, everyone with a ready smile and the wish to shake off the horrible parts of the modern world for a couple of hours. In reality, the ABBA show had done that for us in the first minute.

With lighting (from WHITEvoid) and sonics to justify the expensive price tag, this was a show sat squarely between the best cinematic experience you will ever have and the thrill of a live gig. The Hero Band were simply astonishing, not just for their virtuosity but in their clear love of the music, matching the vocals note for note but adding their own personalities at the same time.

But what vocals we had! Initially the idea that they could be connected with the avatars on stage appeared far-fetched, the distant figures surely incapable of such feats. Yet once the figures of Agnetha, Benny, Björn and Anni-frid had appeared on the big screen, it was time to suspend belief and enjoy the run of incredible music stretching before us.

To any radio listener or disco dancer, ABBA are the stuff of life, unwittingly providing us doubters with a soundtrack to our every move. Each song here had years of history on radio, apart from the well-chosen opening pair, The Visitors and Hole In Your Soul, and the ‘newer’ song Don’t Shut Me Down. The Visitors proved beyond doubt that ABBA have formidable strength in depth, that if you look beyond the frontline singles there is still incredible quality beneath. Don’t Shut Me Down gave strong shots of vulnerability, papered over by an exultant chorus.

Emotions ran high as our lives were effectively played out before us. Inevitably, while Super Trouper was missing, Money, Money, Money gave vivid reminders of that disco aged just six. What I wasn’t expecting was the concentrated outpouring of emotion during the likes of Fernando, with a real sense of occasion, or the real life soap opera cliffhanger that is Knowing Me, Knowing You. Casting aside Alan Partridge reminiscences – with a laugh – here was a chance to get to the nub of those lyrics describing a very public break up, remarkable bravery glimpsed throughout the song.

The set evolved with Disney-like surety, with the animations providing unexpected highs. Eagle was especially beautiful, with animations from Shynola backing a heady rush of endorphins as we soared above the earth, but even that was eclipsed by a triumphant Waterloo, shown exactly as performed at the Dome in Brighton, where it became the winning entry of Eurovision 1974. From there we segued into a truly joyous Thank You For The Music, a hymn to my favourite art form, then on our feet to celebrate Dancing Queen, before a majestic account of The Winner Takes It All.

Just occasionally there was a cynical thought of the amount of cash ABBA and their allies must be making from Voyage…but that was quickly overrun by the realisation that the experience is worth every penny, a thousand positive affirmations in a truly heartfelt two hours.

If you haven’t seen it yet, do try and get to East London, where the feelgood vibes are off the scale. As the Voyage website says, it is a concert like no other!

Published post no.2,716 – Wednesday 12 November 2025

In concert – Soloists, Danish National Concert Choir & Symphony Orchestra / Fabio Luisi @ BBC Proms: Beethoven 9th Symphony, Bent Sørensen & Anna Clyne

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Clara Cecile Thomsen (soprano), Jasmin White (contralto), Issachah Savage (tenor), Adam Palka (bass), Danish National Concert Choir, Danish National Symphony Orchestra / Fabio Luisi

Bent Sørensen Evening Land (2017)
Anna Clyne The Years (2021)
Beethoven Symphony no.9 in D minor Op.125 ‘Choral’ (1811-24)

Royal Albert Hall, London
Thursday 21 August 2025

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

Celebrating their centenary this year, the Danish National Symphony Orchestra and chief conductor Fabio Luisi led us from the quiet of evening to the blazing light of a sunny morning in the course of this concert.

The challenge facing any concert programmer containing Beethoven’s Choral Symphony is how to lead up to it. This Prom approached from a contemporary angle, beginning in near silence with Bent Sørensen’s contemplative Evening Land. The Danish composer’s imaginative orchestration was key to the success of his picture painting, beautifully rendered by Luisi, as was the threadbare violin solo with which leader Christina Åstrand began. Childhood reminiscences of the Danish island Zealand took place in the half-light, contrasting with visions of nocturnal Manhattan that came through in bursts of technicolour, honouring Leonard Bernstein. Making a lasting impression, however, was the beautiful oboe solo from Kristine Vestergaard that marked the illness and subsequent passing of Sørensen’s father.

Having eavesdropped on this intimate opening piece, the Danish National Concert Choir rose for Anna Clyne’s musical account of the Covid pandemic – already consigned to history, it seems. Few people would like to revisit those days in a concert experience, but Clyne’s message – channelling the text of Stephanie Fleischmann – was one of underlying resilience. The choir began in stasis, occupying an added note chord which somehow drew parallels with the Björk song Possibly Maybe for this correspondent, before the piece flourished. A dreamlike mood was enhanced by a pure, almost complete lack of vibrato from both choir and orchestra, while the harmonic language drew strong parallels with the latter stages of Holst’s suite The Planets – Saturn and Neptune in particular. An autumnal chill was evident in spite of increasingly frenetic activity in the orchestra, and the piece ended in an uneasy acceptance of events passed, rather like our own emergence from lockdown.

Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony is the ultimate hymn to freedom, though it does of course go through a titanic struggle before that release, in the form of Schiller’s Ode To Joy, can be attained. Luisi led us through the dark, pre-twilight moments in an account notable for its poise and guile. Using relatively fast speeds, the first movement took a little while to light the touch paper, but once ignited the music powered forward with increasing determination. The scherzo was quick, quite matter of fact with its timpani interventions, and balanced by a bucolic trio where the wind kept pace heroically with Luisi’s quick baton. Their attractive textures and warm melodic phrasing were a key feature of both this and the Adagio, again on the quick side, but managing its fanfare interventions impeccably.

Left to right: Clara Cecile Thomsen (soprano), Jasmin White (contralto), Issachah Savage (tenor), Adam Palka (bass), beneath the bust of Sir Henry Wood @ BBC Proms

And so to the finale, with a memorable exposition for the Ode to Joy theme from sotto voce cellos and basses, the Royal Albert Hall hushed in anticipation. The choral passages were suitably exultant, the 75-strong choir drilled to perfection if cooler in temperature than the orchestra. The four soloists (above) were led by impressive bass Adam Palka, whose authoritative recitative “O Freunde, nicht diese Töne!” was a highlight, and while the quartet’s ensemble pieces wavered a little in tuning the sense of release and elation was keenly felt and clearly relished. The smile on the face of the music spread to the audience in the exhilarating closing bars as the orchestra took flight, completing an impeccably controlled interpretation on the part of Luisi that came to the boil at just the right time.

You can listen back to this Prom concert on BBC Sounds until Sunday 12 October.

Click to read more about the BBC Proms

Published post no.2,634 – Friday 22 August 2025

In concert – Estonian Philharmonic Chamber Choir / Tõnu Kaljuste @ BBC Proms: Arvo Pärt at 90

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Annika Lõhmus, Yena Choi (sopranos), Toomas Tohert (tenor), Geir Luht (bass), Estonian Philharmonic Chamber Choir, Kadri Toomoja (organ) / Tõnu Kaljuste

Arvo Pärt Da pacem Domine (2004/6); Veni creator (2006); Magnificat (1989); The Deer’s Cry (2007); Für Jan van Eyck (2020) (UK premiere)
Galina Grigorjeva Svyatki – ‘Spring is Coming’ (2004)
Rachmaninov All Night Vigil (Vespers) Op.37 (1915): Slava v vyshnikh Bogu; Bogoroditse Devo
J.S. Bach Motet: Ich lasse dich nicht, BWV Anh.159 (1713)
Arvo Pärt Peace upon you, Jerusalem (2002); De profundis (1980)
Tormis Curse upon Iron (1972, rev. 1991)
Arvo Pärt Vater unser (2005/11); encore: Estonian Lullaby (2002)

Royal Albert Hall, London
Thursday 31 July 2025 (late night)

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

The music of Arvo Pärt is ideal for the special atmosphere of a late-night Prom. Yet this was no ordinary concert, being a celebration of the Estonian composer’s forthcoming 90th birthday in September, given by his close friend and collaborator Tõnu Kaljuste, conducting the Estonian Philharmonic Chamber Choir.

This combination of performers have been mainstays of the Pärt discography, forming a celebrated partnership with the ECM label that began with the landmark Tabula Rasa album of 1984, a cornerstone for Pärt’s critical and commercial success.

Pärt is often referred to as a ‘holy minimalist’, to which the response should be that his music is not ‘wholly minimal’. The substantial orchestral works attest to that, though here we heard much slighter but equally meaningful pieces for choir, most given unaccompanied by the 25-strong Estonian ensemble. The Proms audience were commendably quiet, leaning in to appreciate both the delicacy and crystal purity of the voices. The program was well-thought, realising the expressive potential of Pärt’s music alongside that of Bach, Rachmaninov and fellow Estonians, Veljo Tormis and Galina Grigorjeva.

The solemn Da pacem Domine and open-air Veni creator made an ideal opening couplet, the choir projecting with striking clarity rather than volume. For silence, too, plays a critical role in Pärt’s music, and Kaljuste ensured the spaces between the notes were every bit as expressive.

The Magnificat revealed its hidden power, while The Deer’s Cry was perfectly phrased, Pärt’s lilting cadences casting a spell. Für Jan Van Eyck, setting the text of the Agnus Dei, found the ideal balance between the reduced choir and Royal Albert Hall organ, where Kadri Toomoja had the ideal registration. Peace Upon You, Jerusalem, for female voices, contrasted silence with brightly voiced choral statements, while the solemn De profundis, for male voices, began from a small cell, maintaining rapt concentration while punctuated by organ and percussion.

Galina Grigorjeva’s Svyatki was a beautiful meditation, led by the heavenly voice of soprano Yena Choi, her voice with a remarkable bell-like clarity. Bach’s motet, previously attributed to his son Johann Christian, was impeccably voiced and phrased, but while the two excerpts from Rachmaninov’s All-Night Vigil were arguably less successful, they reflected a familiarity with listening to big choirs perform this music, rather than the subtleties of a chamber choir. Purity proved ample compensation for volume here.

This was emphatically not the case in Curse upon Iron, a remarkable setting from Veljo Tormis, of words from the Finnish national epic, the Kalevala, translated into Estonian. Describing the horrors of war, it sends a chill down the spine right from the primal call to arms of the shaman drum, struck by Kaljuste himself, then from the restrained urgency of the choir, like a coiled spring. While listening it was impossible not to think of the current plight of Ukraine and by extension in fear for the Baltic states, especially as Tormis’ writing was brought to a horrific climax. This was realised through the elemental power of tenor Toomas Tohert, bass Geir Luht and the choir, turning from side to side with watchful dread but then erupting in barely concealed anger. It was a remarkable performance, which will live long in the memory.

After this emotionally shattering encounter, the balm of Vater unser, Pärt’s German setting of The Lord’s Prayer for Pope Benedict, was just what was needed, its simplicity all the more affecting for what went before. As an encore, Kaljuste found just the right complement in the choir and piano version of Estonian Lullaby, its pauses near the end the musical equivalent of drooping eyelids. It was a most effective end to a special concert, Arvo Pärt’s musical essence distilled for a most appreciative audience.

You can listen back to this Prom concert on BBC Sounds until Sunday 12 October.

Click to read more about the BBC Proms

Published post no.2,608 – Sunday 27 July 2025

In concert – Alexandre Kantorow (piano), Scottish Chamber Orchestra / Maxim Emelyanychev @ BBC Proms: Rameau, Saint-Saëns, Capperauld & Beethoven

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Alexandre Kantorow (piano), Scottish Chamber Orchestra / Maxim Emelyanychev

Rameau Les Indes galantes – suite (1735)
Saint-Saëns Piano Concerto no.5 in F major Op.103 ‘Egyptian’ (1896)
Capperauld Bruckner’s Skull (2024)
Beethoven Symphony no.5 in C minor Op.67 (1807-08)

Royal Albert Hall, London
Friday 25 July 2025

Reviewed by Ben Hogwood Photos (c) BBC / Mark Allan

This colourful program marking the Scottish Chamber Orchestra’s BBC Proms visit began with music written nearly 300 years ago. Rameau’s characterful ballet score Les Indes galantes looks introduce French sophistication to the culture of exotic destinations overseas. After an elegant Entrée there were boisterous dance encounters in the Rigaudons, with the extremities of loud and quiet, and a colourful Chaconne to finish. The SCO were on fine form, their affectionate performance complemented with tasteful harpsichord contributions from Jan Waterfield. Percussionists Louise Lewis Goodwin and Iain Sandilands were joined by conductor Maxim Emelyanychev himself, wielding a side drum in the Danse du grand calumet de paix (below). Unfortunately the Royal Albert Hall acoustics ensured the beat of his instrument was slightly ahead of his colleagues, but it matter little, adding to the outdoor feel of a performance that left the audience wreathed in smiles.

Saint-Saëns wrote his Piano Concerto no.5 in F major in Luxor, Egypt, where temperatures were surely similar to those on a summer night in the Royal Albert Hall! Taking us back to north Africa was pianist Alexandre Kantorow, with a dazzling account showcasing his virtuosity but also his musical acumen. The picture painting in the rhapsodic second movement was vivid, the quiet playing exquisite, while the orchestra provided the heat haze to the decorative homespun themes. Here Kantorow provided the overtones, evoking North African piped instruments. The concerto’s outer movements were a little more strait-laced in their musical language, but soloist and orchestra had fun here too, Saint-Saëns’ push-pull figurations lapped up and delivered with aplomb. For his well-chosen encore, Kantorow held the audience in the palm of his hand for a delicate arrangement of the composer’s most famous aria, Mon coeur s’ouvre à ta voix, by none other than Nina Simone.

After the interval, the SCO first violins began Jay Capperauld’s Bruckner’s Skull with a line akin to that from Bernard Herrmann’s score to Hitchcock’s Psycho. There was something kind of ‘Eeew’ about the newly orchestrated version of this piece, less a homage to Bruckner than an account of his morbid fascination with death. Bruckner is alleged to have held the skulls of both Beethoven and Schubert after their exhumations, and Capperauld reflected these events in a score quoting from both composers, subjecting the music to ghostly twists and turns. This was in effect a musical exhumation, laced with dark humour and a touch of madness. With Bruckner’s own death mask staring out of the Proms programme, the piece wore a haunted expression throughout, a ghoulish but enduring tale.

There were ghostly outlines, too, in Beethoven’s Symphony no.5 in C minor, notably at the memorable transition between scherzo and finale that marked the high point of this performance. This was a fine account indeed, launched before the audience were fully settled back in their seats but on the front foot from then on. The lean interpretation, such as chamber orchestras can bring to this work, was heightened by a relative absence of vibrato in the strings. Some of the heft of Beethoven’s climaxes was missed, particularly in such a large venue, but the four double basses ensured the lower end of the frequency spectrum was amply covered.

With fine woodwind solos, springy timpani and tightly focussed strings, the rhythmic insights were strong. The slow movement did not linger, and was less affectionate as a result, but Kenneth Henderson and Anna Drysdale took an assertive lead on their natural horns in the scherzo. Then the magical moment, Emelyanychev drawing the orchestra back to a barely audible pianissimo, the launch pad from which the finale sprang forward. Now the music wore a resolute smile, its struggle ultimately won.

You can listen back to this Prom concert on BBC Sounds until Sunday 12 October.

Click to read more about the BBC Proms

Published post no.2,608 – Sunday 27 July 2025

In concert – Sarah Aristidou, Ensemble Intercontemporain / Pierre Bleuse @ BBC Proms: Boulez & Berio: 20th-Century Giants

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Sarah Aristidou (soprano), Jérôme Comte (clarinet), Lucas Ounissi (trombone), Yann Brécy (IRCAM electronics), Sylvain Cadars (IRCAM sound diffusion), Ensemble Intercontemporain / Pierre Bleuse

Berio Sequenza V (1966)
Boulez Dialogue de l’ombre double (1982-5)
Berio Recital I (for Cathy) (1972)

Royal Albert Hall, London
Wednesday 23 July 2025 (10.15pm)

Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse Photos (c) BBC / Chris Christodoulou

It is a salutary thought that events such as this evening’s later concert were once a ubiquitous feature at the Proms, and it required an anniversary such as the centenaries of both composers heard here to make it possible once again. Not that any of those present would have objected.

The jury might still be out on the precise nature of Luciano Berio’s achievement, but not on the intrinsic value of those works as Sequenza V. One of 14 such pieces that emerged across 44 years, it is arguably the most compact and communicative – not least for its pronounced degree of theatricality. His attire more readily evoked Harpo Marx than Grock the clown, but Lucas Ounissi (above) was fully alive to this music’s extended trombone technique serving a routine humorous though pathos-laden – his exclaimed ‘Why?’ defining the performance as a whole.

Although he eschewed such theatrics, Pierre Boulez was rarely averse to the extra-musical. Inspired by a scene in Paul Claudel’s play Le soulier de satin and the offshoot of work on his major 1980s project Répons, Dialogue de l’ombre double is typical of Boulez’s later thinking with its interplay of live and pre-recorded elements so that the musicians become engaged in a performance with themselves. Here the music proceeds as a continuum between Strophes and Transitions – clarinettist Jérôme Comte as tangible by his presence during the former as he was intangible by his absence during the latter, with all the contrast in perception that this implies. The presence of lighting proved as effective as it was immediate – not least in those framing sections of Sigle initial and Sigle final which act as processional then recessional.

Next to such expressive concreteness, Berio’s Recital I (for Cathy) could feel beholden to its era, but this music-theatre for the composer’s former wife and ongoing collaborator touches on salient aspects of existence as surely as those of performance. As with the more familiar Sinfonia (also revived this season), the plethora of quotations of and allusions to other music – ranging over three centuries from Monteverdi to Berio himself – is absorbed (if not always integrated) into an extended monologue during which the singer evolves from touchy prima-donna to solitary protagonist whose search for meaning in her artistic endeavour has become (and maybe always had been?) elusive. It has to be said that previous Proms hearings, at the Roundhouse then Kensington Town Hall, were better suited to this piece’s relative intimacy than the expanse of the Royal Albert Hall; moreover, for all the eloquence of her assumption, Sarah Aristidou (above) was not wholly suited to a role which requires a singer-actor in the lineage of Cathy Berberian to convey the intensifying emotional meltdown played out during its course.

What could hardly be denied was the alacrity of the instrumental response; the musicians of Ensemble Intercontemporain never less than committed under assured guidance from Pierre Bleuse, who has clearly galvanized this organization in the two seasons since he became its artistic director. Hopefully they will be invited back to the Proms at the earliest opportunity, and not just on the basis of commemorating those composers whose centenaries underscore their significance to a post-war musical culture whose passing has not made less relevant.

You can listen back to this Prom concert on BBC Sounds until Sunday 12 October.

Click on the artist names to read more about Sarah Aristidou, Jérôme Comte, Lucas Ounissi, the Ensemble Intercontemporain, their conductor Pierre Bleuse – and for more on the BBC Proms

Published post no.2,607 – Saturday 26 July 2025