In concert – Sheku Kanneh-Mason, Soloists, Philharmonia Chorus, Royal Philharmonic Orchestra / Vasily Petrenko: Elgar, Weinberg & Rachmaninoff

Sheku Kanneh-Mason (cello), Mirjam Mesak (soprano), Pavel Petrov (tenor), Andrii Kymach (baritone), Philharmonia Chorus, Royal Philharmonic Orchestra / Vasily Petrenko

Elgar In The South (Alassio) Op.50 (1904)
Weinberg Cello Concerto Op.43 (1948/1956)
Rachmaninoff The Bells Op.35 (1913)

Royal Festival Hall, London
Thursday 11 April 2024

Reviewed by Ben Hogwood Pictures (c) Chris Christodoulou

The Royal Philharmonic Orchestra and Vasily Petrenko continued their dual focus on Rachmaninoff and Elgar this season with a deeply satisfying programme. They began with Elgar on holiday, music to match the Mediterranean climate of a rather humid Royal Festival Hall. This was In The South, Elgar’s extended postcard from Alassio, Italy, a sudden burst of inspiration that the composer finished in double quick time. Petrenko and his charges caught the instinctive writing, launching the overture in high spirits that brought the spring sunshine in from outside. Their interpretation grew in stature as it progressed, the central statements from brass given impressive heft. Yet it was the quieter asides that proved most telling, notably a fine viola solo from Abigail Fenna, whose depiction of the ‘canto popolare’ was appropriately reserved and beautifully phrased.

Sheku Kanneh-Mason joined for Weinberg’s Cello Concerto, a fine work sharing the same key (C minor) and elegiac mood of its now neglected equivalent by Nikolai Myaskovsky, completed three years earlier. Sheku’s credentials in Shostakovich (he won the BBC Young Musician prize with a standout account of the Cello Concerto no.1) served him well here, and he was an eloquent guide in the thoughtful first movement. Again this was an interpretation growing in stature, from a silvery first movement to the persuasive habanera of a Moderato that grew increasingly sour in tone, aided by standout solos from trumpeter Matthew Williams. By the third movement Allegro the gloves were well and truly off, incisive solo playing carrying through to an assertive and deeply felt cadenza, before the finale responded with doleful phrases turning us back to the material of the first movement, emotions not fully resolved. The main theme carried more weight second time around, while Kanneh-Mason’s choice of the same composer’s Prelude no.18 for solo cello was ideal as an encore, setting the seal on a fine interpretation. Hopefully his thoughts on the concerto will be set down in the studio by Decca before long.

Rachmaninoff’s four-part choral symphony The Bells formed a dramatic second half, led by an extremely well-drilled Philharmonia Chorus (prepared by Gavin Carr), whose diction and ensemble were most impressive. On first glance the men appeared outnumbered, but when the telling moments came in the third and fourth movements they rose to the occasion with great conviction.

In tenor Pavel Petrov, soprano Mirjam Mesak and baritone Andrii Kymach, Petrenko could call on three excellent soloists, Mesak in particular impressing with her sensitive phrasing and vibrato, passionately singing The Mellow Wedding Bells. Her glittering dress was an ideal match for Poe’s verse, too. Petrov’s ringing delivery set the ideal tone in The Silver Sleigh Bells, while Kymach’s declamation was pitched just right for The Mournful Iron Bells, right after the frenzied scherzo, The Loud Alarm Bells.

The Royal Philharmonic Orchestra gave memorable contributions, with incisive woodwind, plangent brass, strings united as one, and percussion that added punctuation to the choral thunderclaps of The Loud Alarm Bells, Rachmaninoff effectively slamming the door shut on his deepest fears. Following this dramatic high point, the cor anglais solo of Patrick Flanaghan was all the more poignant – and Petrenko made sense of the major key ending, a chink of light in the darkness.

You can find more information on further concerts at the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra website

Published post no.2,146 – Friday 12 April 2024

In concert – Hanna Hipp, Tiffin Boys Choir, Philharmonia Chorus, RPO / Vasily Petrenko – Mahler: Symphony no.3 @ Royal Albert Hall

Hanna Hipp (mezzo-soprano), Tiffin Boys Choir, Philharmonia Chorus, Royal Philharmonic Orchestra / Vasily Petrenko

Mahler Symphony no.3 in D minor (1895-6)

Royal Albert Hall, London
Thursday 27 April 2023

Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse Photo of Vasily Petrenko (c) Ben Wright

The Royal Philharmonic Orchestra series of those Mahler symphonies featuring voices came to its conclusion this evening with the Third Symphony, the longest and most encompassing of his cycle with its trajectory ranging from the awakening of life to its divine transcendence.

The first part, comprising Mahler lengthiest purely orchestral movement, presents a stern test in terms of its overall pacing and characterization. Vasily Petrenko had its measure right from the opening fanfare, as powerfully intoned by eight horns in unison, via graphic depictions of inanimate nature (its trombone recitative balefully rendered by Matthew Gee) and its march-like reawakening, to the forceful expressive contrast Mahler invests into this extended sonata design as it advances to a joyous peroration that was superbly controlled and projected here.

Although the published score makes no mention, Mahler evidently favoured a lengthy pause before going into the second part. By allowing barely a minute to elapse, Petrenko arguably left insufficient breathing-space (for the audience if not the musicians) and so undersold the effect of what ensues. Not that this Tempo di Menuetto lacked for poise or insouciance – its chamber-like orchestration exuded a confiding intimacy, with the lingering regret at its close deftly implied. No less persuasive was the third movement, a scherzo whose capricious outer sections found purposeful accord with episodes where the offstage post-horn solos (elegantly delivered by Toby Street) unfolded without hint of indulgence; Petrenko mindful to inject a degree of danger into the final return of the opening music as this heads to its fractious close.

Once again, a slightly longer pause than Petrenko allowed might have given listeners time to settle before the closing three movements – (rightly) played without a break. Not that Hanna Hipp, in situ at stage-left, was other than assured in her contribution to the setting of (part of) Friedrich Nietzsche’s Mitternachts-Lied with its presentiment of eternal life; such unforced eloquence abetted by the hushed intensity of the RPO’s playing. The brief if pertinent setting of Es sungen drei Engel offered the necessary contrast, Hipp sounding a note of uncertainty or even doubt in the context of animated singing from the combined children’s and women’s voices. Here, too, Petrenko’s decision to use actual rather than tubular bells added greatly to the aura of child-like though never merely coy innocence with which this music is infused.

On to the finale – an adagio drawing on precedents from Beethoven and Bruckner, and which crowned this performance in all respects. If the flowing tempo that Petrenko adopted initially seemed a little passive, the seamlessness with which conflicting elements were drawn into the discourse, together with the preparation for and the shaping of each climax, on the way to its apotheosis left no doubt as to his identity with this movement. Neither was there any hint of bathos as striding timpani underpinned those closing bars with their intimations of sublimity.

A memorable performance, then, which brought out the sheer scale and ambition of Mahler’s conception while underlining the all-round excellence of the RPO near the end of its second season with Petrenko. Hopefully there will be further Mahler to come from this partnership.

You can read all about the 2022/23 season and book tickets at the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra website. Click on the artist names for more on Hanna Hipp, Tiffin Boys Choir, Philharmonia Chorus and conductor Vasily Petrenko

Arcana at the Proms – Prom 28: Tadaaki Otaka conducts the BBC National Orchestra of Wales in Rachmaninov & Huw Watkins

Prom 28: Iurii Samoilov (baritone), Natalya Romaniw (soprano, below), Oleg Dolgov (tenor), BBC National Chorus of Wales, Philharmonia Chorus, BBC National Orchestra of Wales / Tadaaki Otaka (above)

Takemitsu Twill by Twilight (1988)
Huw Watkins The Moon (2018-19) (BBC commission: world premiere)
Rachmaninov The Bells (1912-13)
Borodin Prince Igor – Polovtsian Dances (1869-87)

Royal Albert Hall, Thursday 8 August 2019

Reviewed by Ben Hogwood
Photo credit (Tadaaki Otaka) Chris Christodoulou

You can watch this Prom on the BBC iPlayer here

Given his commission brief, to write a choral piece celebrating the 50th anniversary of the first Moon landing, Huw Watkins must have been tempted to set Neil Armstrong’s immortal ‘one giant leap’ quote to music. Instead however he opted to ‘capture our experience of viewing the moon from Earth’. In doing so he set four intriguing texts pre-dating the first manned visit to our original satellite – two from Percy Bysshe Shelley, and one each from Philip Larkin and Wilfred Owen.

The four were stitched together like phases of the moon in a continuously running 20 minutes, with plenty of opportunity for the orchestra to have their say in between. Watkins has an interesting musical language, always rooted in tonality but using evocative colours and harmonies hinted at in works for chorus and orchestra by Holst, Vaughan Williams or even Hugh Wood.

The Moon had a very satisfactory flow to it, and was passionately delivered by the 130-strong BBC National Chorus of Wales, who clearly enjoyed the experience. Given its length it makes a tricky piece to programme or to appraise on one listen, but it is to be hoped in this anniversary year we get more chances to acquaint ourselves with a composer who writes in a very human voice, and found the ‘definite and bright’ description of Larkin’s verse. That may sound like an obvious statement to make, but surprisingly few composers form a connection with their audience as pronounced as Watkins did here, and even less make the words as clear as he did.

He was of course helped by his ‘home’ orchestra, conducted by a returning prodigal in Conductor Laureate Tadaaki Otaka. Making his first visit to the Proms since 2015. Otaka opened with a piece by his dear friend Toru Takemitsu. Twill By Twilight, in memory of Morton Feldman, was in clear thrall to the Debussy of Nocturnes, creating a dreamy atmosphere. The piece is typical of Takemitsu’s compositions in its dealing with orchestral colour, melody and harmony on equal standing, and it runs slowly if inevitably. In this performance it panned out beautifully, the expansive orchestral sound guided by Otaka’s steady yet relaxed direction.

Otaka has a special place for the works of Rachmaninov, having recorded the symphonies and piano concertos for Nimbus back in the early 1990s. Yet the Russian composer’s choral symphony The Bells was absent from this project, and it was great to hear it in such full-bodied form here. The BBC National Chorus of Wales were boosted still further by the 100-strong Philharmonia Chorus, making a terrific bank of sound that carried all before it – and yet which, thanks to Otaka’s careful balancing, was complemented by the orchestra.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Loud Alarm Bells, the third movement, was suitably terrifying especially at the end, Otaka driving at a quick tempo, and this balanced out the relative joy felt in the first movement, Silver Sleigh Bells, where tenor Oleg Dolgov was a fulsome presence. Soprano Natalya Romaniw sang beautifully in Mellow Wedding Bells, the second movement, her voice effortlessly soaring up to a top B flat without a hint of effort, while baritone Iurii Samoilov offered a darker hue for the depths of Mournful Iron Bells, whose late shift from darkness to light was beautifully done. Rachmaninov’s choral epic has been well served by the Proms in recent years – I remember a terrific outing directed by Vladimir Jurowski – and this was another fine advocacy.

Finishing with Borodin’s Polovtsian Dances was a masterstroke, sending the audience home with several tunes in the locker that simply refused to leave for the rest of the evening! What a gifted melodist Borodin was, and how frustrating that because of his day job – a chemist – he did not leave more for us to enjoy. What he did leave still gives much pleasure, however, and the Polovtsian Dances benefited from such a big choir at their disposal.

The women floated the tune of the Young Girls’ Dance beautifully, while the men – while not quite hitting the passion of Russian voices in this music – were still fulsome and bold. Several orchestral solos stood out, not least from clarinetist Robert Plane, while Otaka’s pacing and linking of the sections was ideal. At 71 the conductor still looks in fine fettle, and his ‘sleep’ gesture at the end was borne more of mischief than genuine fatigue. It seems he, like the rest of us, was fired anew by the passionate Russian music of the concert’s second half.