Tag Archives: Pavel Haas

In concert – CBSO Chorus & Orchestra / Joshua Weilerstein: Haas, Bernstein, Shaw & Dvořak

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Michael Mulroy (treble), CBSO Chorus, City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra / Joshua Weilerstein

Haas Study for Strings (1943)
Bernstein Chichester Psalms (1965)
Shaw Music in Common Time (2014)
Dvořak Symphony no.9 in E minor Op.95 ‘From the New World’ (1893)

Symphony Hall, Birmingham
Wednesday 15 May 2024

Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse Picture (c) Yuri Pires Tavares

In recent seasons, Joshua Weilerstein has presided over several of the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra’s most thought-provoking concerts and tonight’s programme was no exception in its potent mix of the recent and unfamiliar, alongside a symphonic evergreen.

It was thanks to the conductor and Auschwitz survivor Karel Ančerl that Study for Strings by Pavel Haas survived its immediate context, as propaganda for a Nazi documentary on cultural activity at the Theresienstadt transit-camp, to become one of this composer’s defining works. Felicitously combining Czech folk music with traditional Jewish inflections and (in its central section) more expressionist undertones, alongside a compact and quasi-symphonic design, it is a potent indication as to where post-war Czech music might conceivably have been headed.

It duly brought a vivid and energetic response from the CBSO strings, who were then joined by brass and percussion in Bernstein’s Chichester Psalms. Commissioned by the Dean of the city’s cathedral, it enabled the composer to pull together a number of earlier or aborted ideas in three Psalm-settings given focus by being heard in Hebrew translation with an authentic (if impractical as regards the percussion) scoring. Weilerstein drew the requisite verve from its initial setting, and if Michael Mulroy seemed tentative in its successor (discreet amplification might have helped), the contrast between his plaintiveness and edginess of the male-chorus interludes was pertinently drawn. Its anguished prelude for strings powerfully rendered, the final setting had an affecting eloquence through to the serene unaccompanied closing chorus.

After the interval, the CBSO Chorus was heard in rather more restrained guise with Music in Common Time by Caroline Shaw. Its brief and oblique text might have come from a late song by Talk Talk, but it yet provides the framework for a cannily unfolding fantasia in which the eddying textures of John Adams frame a speculative section with its string writing more than a little redolent of early Penderecki. Throughout, voices and instruments were finely melded in a composition that certainly suggests a plausible way out of any post-minimalist impasse.

What to say about the New World Symphony? Firstly, that it fitted judiciously into the overall programme as to conception; secondly, that it brought out the best in this partnership. Right from its evocative introduction, Weilerstein was alive to those many expressive ambiguities in the initial Allegro (a pity, though, that he omitted the exposition repeat as this undermines the formal balance overall), then drew a rapt and often searching response from the CBSO in the Largo – Rachel Pankhurst making the most of its indelible cor anglais melody. Nor was there any lack of bite or (in its trio section) gracefulness in the scherzo; such incisiveness of ensemble consistent throughout the finale, whose rhythmic impetus ensured the coda was not merely decisive but crowned the whole work in an apotheosis as conclusive as it was joyous. In his thoughtful initial remarks, Weilerstein spoke of this programme as being defined by its complexity, nuance and confrontation: qualities not always evident in present-day music, or in present-day discourse, but whose absence is our loss – as this concert eloquently confirmed.

Click on the link to read more on the current CBSO concert season, and on this link to read about the CBSO’s 2024/25 season. Click on the names for more on conductor Joshua Weilerstein, the CBSO Chorus and composer Caroline Shaw

Published post no.2,181 – Friday 17 May 2024

In Concert – Pavel Haas Quartet @ Wigmore Hall: Haydn, Prokofiev & Haas

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Pavel Haas Quartet [Veronika Jarůšková, Marek Zwiebel (violins), Karel Untermüller (viola), Peter Jarůšek (cello)

Haydn String Quartet in G major Op.76/1 (1979)
Prokofiev String Quartet no.2 in F major Op.92 (1941)
Haas String Quartet no.2 Op.7 ‘From The Monkey Mountains’ (1925)

Wigmore Hall, London
Thursday 24 November 2022

Reviewed by Ben Hogwood

The Pavel Haas Quartet often cause a stir on their visits to the Wigmore Hall, and this concert was no exception for the Czech ensemble.

Many of Haydn’s mature string quartets begin with a trio of chords effectively designed to hush the audience and guide their ears towards the performance getting underway. The first in his crowning set of six quartets published as Op.76 is no exception, though in this red blooded account the Pavel Haas Quartet pinned the audience back in their seats, such was the vigour with which this performance began.

There were some ragged edges to their interpretation, and less evidence of the genial Haydn that makes himself known with the conversational melody of the first movement. We did however get more exposure to his experimental side, through an interpretation pointing the music forward towards middle period Beethoven. The quickstep third movement, very much a scherzo rather than a minuet, pointed up Haydn’s daring harmonic excursions and dalliances, as did the finale, based mostly in the minor key and featuring a number of brisk about-turns. Stemming the tide was the second movement Adagio, a reverent account with a solemn air to its central section in particular.

There followed a superbly played account of Prokofiev’s String Quartet no.2. This attractive work is not often heard in concert, which is a shame for it has a good deal of spice and charm through its investment in folk tunes from the Northern Caucausian region, where the composer was evacuated in 1941. Encouraged by his new neighbours, Prokofiev achieved a very satisfying blend of the original tunes with spiky good humour and scrunched up harmonic dissonances, always in thrall to the highly melodic content.

The first movement revelled in the abundance of good tunes, bringing the Pavel Haas Quartet’s Slavonic instincts into play. The mood softened for a heartfelt cello solo from Peter Jarůšek, setting a thoughtful and delicately nostalgic tone for the Adagio. Here more time was taken for reflection, with a noticeable chill running through Prokofiev’s writing.

Within the folk references it is possible to discern the worrisome mood of the time, with World War Two underway. The third movement however felt like a show of resolution in the face of this threat, laced with humour that in this performance could have been exploited to greater effect. It was however a fine performance, with terrific ensemble playing.

The main event of the concert was undoubtedly a performance of music from the quartet’s namesake. Pavel Haas, born in Moravia, studied with Janáček between 1920 and 1922, completing his String Quartet no.2 three years later. Tragically in 1941 he was deported to the Theresienstadt concentration camp, and died in Auschwitz three years later. Much of his work lay in neglect but has in the last thirty years enjoyed an extremely welcome renaissance, led by a number of enterprising recordings made in the 1990s, not least that of this work for Decca’s Entartete Musik imprint in the 1990s by the Hawthorne String Quartet. Since then the second quartet has gone on to gain a welcome foothold in the concert hall.

It would be difficult to contemplate a better performance than this one from the Pavel Haas Quartet. Led assertively by Veronika Jarůšková, they showed what an assured and imaginative piece it is, a travelogue giving the listener a tour of the sights and sounds of the famous Monkey Mountain range in Moravia.

The musical language is a curious but highly engaging hybrid of influences, drawing on the music of Dvořák and Smetana but in compressed melodic pockets of heightened intensity. Janáček, too, is an influential voice, but Haas’s unusual phrasing and distinctive rhythms make for a unique and enjoyable style.

The Pavel Haas Quartet enjoyed it greatly, the first two movements (Landscape and Coach, Coachman and Horse) enjoying the rarefied outdoor air and some crisply secured dance rhythms. The third movement, subtitled The Moon and I, was much colder to the touch, the muted strings taking time for introspection and creating some striking colours along the way. Their beautifully poised playing set up a riotous Wild Night finale where they were joined by percussionist Owen Gunnell (above), whose battery of instruments were expertly marshalled to bring the sounds of 1920s jazz into the fray.

The riotous closing pages brought the swaying Moravian dances and jazz rhythms to the foundations of the Wigmore Hall, brilliantly played and ideally balanced. So good was this section that the five performers gave us a quick reprisal as an encore, reminding us in the process of the fiercely original writing from a composer whose resurgence is to be greatly welcomed.  

Wigmore Mondays: Nicholas Daniel & Charles Owen – J.S. Bach, Pavel Haas, York Bowen & Julian Anderson

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Nicholas Daniel (oboe, above), Charles Owen (piano, below)

J.S. Bach Sinfonia from Easter Oratorio Kommt, eilet und laufet, BWV249 (1725, rev.1938) (1:33-5:40)
Pavel Haas Oboe Suite Op.17 (1939) (5:42-22:12)
Julian Anderson The Bearded Lady (1994) (24:20-31:33)
Stravinsky Russian Maiden’s Song (arr. for oboe and piano) (32:49-36:24)
York Bowen Oboe Sonata Op.85 (37:02-54:22)

Wigmore Hall, London; Monday 15 October 2018

You can listen to the BBC Radio 3 broadcast by clicking here

Written by Ben Hogwood

The common link to the inventive programme for this BBC Radio 3 Lunchtime Recital was the oboist Leon Goossens, whose instrument Nicholas Daniel still plays. Goossens, who died in 1988, was a legendary artist. Arguably the most influential exponent of the oboe in the 20th century, he helped secure a good deal of modern repertoire for the instrument. He also loved to play arrangements of existing works, such as the Bach movement with which Nicholas Daniel and Charles Owen began this concert (from 1:33 on the broadcast link)

This was beautifully phrased and ornamented by Daniel, with exemplary control and beauty of tone, complemented by subtle prompting from Owen. It led without a break into the curious but deeply affecting three-movement Suite from Pavel Haas. The Czech composer’s music is slowly making itself better known after a revival in the 1990s. Prior to then, Haas – along with fellow Jewish composers Erwin Schulhoff, Hans Krása and Gideon Klein, had suffered considerable neglect, due partly to the tragic events of 1941-1942. All were taken to concentration camps during the Second World War, and tragically none returned.

This piece was unpredictable in places, and even confrontational between the instruments, but it left quite an emotional trail, writing directly to the soul in the manner of Haas’s teacher Janáček. Its music contained some of the blunt economy of expression for which his teacher was renowned, but also a slightly more whimsical quality. The first movement Furioso (5:42) began sternly but soon became more introspective, Owen’s considered interpretation bringing characterisation to the twists and turns of the piano part. The second movement, marked Con fuoco (10:08) began with an outburst from the piano, which was then calmed a little by the lyrical oboe line – and the two plotted very different paths during the course of the movement, which finished with another impassioned statement from the piano. The final movement Moderato (15:38) was calmer and found greater alignment between the two. A lovely, much more intimate moment from 19:57 led by the oboe but with an evocative loop from the piano, growing to an impressive climax.

For his comedic piece The Bearded Lady, commissioned by Daniel and based on a scene in Stravinsky’s Rake’s Progress, Julian Anderson used the extremities of the range of both instruments, the oboe jumping and swooping between high and low pitches, before we heard a tumbling figure down the piano. Then both instruments descended together, and while the piano hammered away at the low register Daniel left the stage. This was all part of the theatre, for soon we heard in the distance the mournful tones of the cor anglais (30:31), The Bearded Lady lamenting her fate at the end of an entertaining piece.

Stravinsky himself followed, an arrangement of the Russian Maiden’s Song from the 1921 comic opera Mavra. This had the classic Stravinsky combination of spiky rhythms but more tender melodic asides, the affecting and slightly humorous melody complemented by spicy harmonies from the piano.

York Bowen is often viewed as an English equivalent to Saint-Saëns or Rachmaninov – which gives a good idea of where his strengths lie. A melodic composer, he also makes quite heavy virtuoso demands on the performer – demands that Nicholas Daniel and Charles Owen met head on. They enjoyed the light hearted and sweet first movement, with its winsome melody, presenting it as part of a graceful dance.

The slow movement (44:15), marked Andantino espressivo by the composer, featured a long-breathed melody that Daniel played and phrased beautifully, lightly prompted by Owen. As the music got more intense we heard more of the lower range of Daniel’s oboe, a full-bodied sound, before the melancholy theme reappeared.

The shackles were confidently thrown off for the finale (50:23, marked Allegro giocoso) with a cheeky and memorable theme, which led to some fun sparring between the instruments and a bright signing-off.

As a bonus Daniel brought the recital full circle, returning to a Bach arrangement – on this occasion the Siciliano from the Flute Sonata in E flat major BWV1031. Unfortunately the radio broadcast cut away before this was played – a shame, as they would have had room for it. It certainly capped a very fine recital which showed a much greater depth to the oboe repertoire than one might expect!

Further listening

Nicholas Daniel has not recorded any of the material in this concert, but it can be tracked in this Spotify playlist:

Five years ago Daniel and a number of colleagues released this disc of chamber works by the Scottish Thea Musgrave, who turned 90 this year: