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

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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

Introducing…Our Friends Electric!

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Today is known as Blue Monday, the day where New Year’s resolutions have traditionally worn off…and people have had enough of January. It happens also to be the name of one of the best electronic music songs ever made…so it seems right to make it the launch day for Our Friends Electric!

This will be Arcana’s celebration of electronic music in all its forms, where I will be listening to and writing about electronic music across the spectrum. It will be an expedition from early ventures in the 1920s to the most recent tracks from present day technology. Along the way there will be interviews, playlists, thoughts and music – so much music.

Lev Termen demonstrating the theremin, December 1927 by Bettmann, Corbis

It would be great to think we could cover all the electronic music there is, but that’s clearly impossible – so the focus will be on key works and albums, listening chronologically from early on in the 20th century. We will move from Varèse to Kraftwerk, from Delia Derbyshire to Kelly Lee Owens, taking in classical and pop pioneers side by side. We will also moving off-piste here and there, to take in all manner of successful – and failed – experiments with early computer music. There will be interviews, too!

To start, I plan to take a look at the music of Erik Satie and his influence, a composer who opened his mind to using mechanics and technology in music, and who looked to embrace new inventions. I will try to do the same.

My perspective is a Western one, so viewpoints from across the globe will be especially welcome. Please do contribute as much as you would like, from listening along on the playlists provided, to commenting on the findings and sharing in the delights we uncover. It promises to be a huge amount of fun.

So let’s switch on, power up and get listening!

Ben Hogwood, editor Arcana.fm

P.S.…for those of you following the Beethoven project – thank you! – I can promise you it hasn’t been cancelled but will resume in the composer’s ‘other’ anniversary year, 2027.

Published post no.2,772 – Monday 19 January 2026

In Concert – Cuarteto Casals @ Wigmore Hall: Bach, Shostakovich & Turina

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Cuarteto Casals [Abel Tomàs, Vera Martínez-Mehner (violins), Cristina Cordero Beltrán (viola), Arnau Tomàs (cello)]

J.S. Bach Art of Fugue BWV1080: Contrapunctus 1, 4, 6 & 9 (1742, rev.1748-9)
Turina La oración del torero Op.34 (1925)
Shostakovich String Quartet no.3 in F major Op.73 (1946)

Wigmore Hall, London
Monday 12 January 2026, 1pm

Reviewed by Ben Hogwood

Cuarteto Casals began this BBC Radio 3 Lunchtime Concert with a quartet of movements from The Art of Fugue, Johann Sebastian Bach’s four-part masterpiece of musical counterpoint. The collection has that rare quality of being able to combine technical prowess and emotional substance, and these were evident right from the outset. Initially plaintive, Contrapunctus 1 grew in scope and stature, though while three of the quartet opted against vibrato cellist Arnau Tomàs did not, meaning his instrument was more rounded in tone. A convincing Contrapunctus 4 featured lively exchanges, while Contrapunctus 6 enjoyed the dotted rhythms redolent of a French ‘ouverture’. Finally Contrapunctus 9 was a light-footed dance, its slower theme commendably clear towards the end.

Vera Martínez-Mehner then swapped with Abel Tomàs to assume first violin duties for Joaquin Turina’s chamber tone poem La oración del torero. This vivid account of bullfighters praying for their lives before a fiesta was written in the wake of a scene witnessed by the composer, observng the toreadors ‘backstage’ in the chapel. Martínez-Mehner and Cristina Cordero Beltrán, perhaps unwittingly, were ironically clad in red for a performance that turned up the temperature a good 20 degrees inside the Wigmore Hall. Their highly descriptive account featured castanet evocations that were on point and searching solos that led to a radiant concluding section. Turina’s chamber music is rarely heard in the concert hall, and while this performance revealed a healthy debt to Debussy’s string quartet in particular, it showed off an attractive melodic style. On this evidence it would be rewarding to hear the composer’s string quartets and piano-based chamber music much more frequently.

The temperature cooled notably for the Shostakovich, though here again the quartet were able to use the extremes of their dynamic range. With the String Quartet no.3 closely attuned to the end of the Second World War, it was difficult not to think of telling parallels with the current situation in Russia and Ukraine, evident on every page. The songful melody of Martínez-Mehner’s opening tune cast initial warmth, but this soon dissipated, the quartet’s confidential asides drawing a notably hushed response from the Wigmore Hall audience.

Parallels with Shostakovich’s Eighth Symphony, completed just three years earlier, were revealed – the heavy-set viola tread of the second movement recalling its scherzo, while the solemn fourth movement Passacaglia, placed as in the symphony, found an equivalent emptiness, nowhere more so than in the stricken unison from viola and cello towards the end.

Yet there was hope, as the questioning finale struck a more positive tone in spite of heavy irony, and a cold dread as the Passacaglia music reappeared. The music hung in a still suspension through the coda, in only the way Shostakovich can, revealing answers that were hard to come by while peace and dread co-existed in equal measure. Silence followed, and there was understandably no encore.

Listen

You can listen to this concert on BBC Sounds, until 11 February. Meanwhile click here to listen to a playlist of the works in this concert on Tidal, with the J.S. Bach and Shostakovich recorded by the Cuarteto Casals themselves.

Published post no.2,766 – Tuesday 13 January 2026

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