Tag Archives: Witold Lutosławski

On this day – the first performance of Lutosławski’s Cello Concerto

Posted on by
Reply

photo courtesy of Wikipedia – by Reijo Koskinen / Lehtikuva

by Ben Hogwood

On this day in 1970, the first performance took place of a remarkable new work from Witold Lutosławski. The Cello Concerto was written for the great Mstislav Rostropovich, who gave the premiere with the Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra under Sir Edward Downes at the Royal Festival Hall.

Here is a more recent account from the fine cellist Nicolas Altstaedt, with the Finnish Radio Symphony Orchestra conducted by Dima Slobodeniouk:

Published post no.2,687 – Tuesday 14 October 2025

In concert – Anne-Sophie Mutter, London Symphony Orchestra / Thomas Adès: Myth and Magic @ Barbican Hall

Posted on by
Reply

Anne-Sophie Mutter (violin), London Symphony Orchestra / Thomas Adès

Stravinsky Orpheus (1947)
Lutosławski Partita (for Violin and Orchestra) (1988)
Adès Air – Homage to Sibelius (Violin Concerto) (UK premiere) (2021-22)
Stravinsky Agon (1953-57)

Barbican Hall, London
Thursday 31 May 2024

Reviewed by Ben Hogwood Pictures (c) Mark Allan

This rewarding concert featured the imaginative programming of four works looking simultaneously backwards and forwards, with two great Stravinsky ballets framing shorter works for violin and orchestra.

Anne-Sophie Mutter (below) has forged a pioneering path for contemporary music throughout her career, and added another dedication to an illustrious list that includes Lutosławski, Penderecki, Sir André Previn and Unsuk Chin. Air – Homage to Sibelius was written in the light of her admiration for Adès’ Concentric Paths, his Violin Concerto of 2005. It is a very different work indeed, an extended meditation based on a single melody written in the slow days of lockdown in 2021. In the execution Adès brought his music unexpectedly close to that of John Tavener or Arvo Pärt, the latter’s Cantus in memoriam Benjamin Britten recalled by the solemnly descending melody. Beginning on high with the orchestral violins, this was soon joined by Mutter’s silky-smooth tones. Now the piece developed with the soloist in charge, its serene progress tinged with longing. With no brass in the orchestra the textures were light, with tuned gongs suggesting a soft breeze, before the music gained weight on the gradual descent as though nearing the bottom of a mountain. The Sibelius homage could be determined in the line and structure of the piece, and also the rarefied light that it cast adrift.

Before the interval we heard Lutosławski’s Partita, written initially for violin and piano in 1984 but orchestrated for Mutter four years later. The word ‘partita’ is interpreted by Lutosławski in its 18th century form, and this work begins with a stern Allegro giusto that comes adrift when the soloist starts to use portamento, the melody travelling through microtones. Mutter’s control here was masterful, yet the feeling of dislocation was compounded. The central Largo was powerful indeed, the violin singing a darker song, before the closing Presto brought a terrific burst of energy, the colourful orchestration prompting and cajoling. Mutter’s voice, though, spoke the loudest.

The concert had begun with a relatively rare live account of Orpheus, the second of Stravinsky’s three Greek ballets. Thomas Adès directed a compelling performance of a work whose dynamic levels remain quiet for almost the entire half hour – yet contain music of acute description and poignancy. There is dread too, which Adès brought out in the scenes where Orpheus is surrounded by the Furies, then where he met his untimely demise at the hands of the Bacchantes. With the harp of Bryn Lewis treading a solitary, elegant line, Orpheus’ lyre remained as a ghostly presence right through to the end – in spite of the efforts of the Angel of Death, brilliantly voiced by violinist and orchestra leader Benjamin Gilmore.

The concert finished with the remarkable Agon, with which Stravinsky completed his Greek trilogy and indeed entire ballet output when premiered in New York in 1957. Even in his mid-70s the composer was pushing boundaries, this time in the direction of Schoenberg’s serial technique, without compromising his dramatic instincts. With no plot, Agon is essentially a celebration of movement, Stravinsky free to explore old dance forms through the prism of twentieth century harmony and melody, with remarkably imaginative instrumentation. This performance fully revealed its genius, the Renaissance and Baroque dances given a new lease of life with orchestration turned on its head. The colours were enhanced by mandolin (Huw Davies), harp (Bryn Lewis) and percussion (Neil Percy and Tom Edwards), not to mention the superb LSO brass, wind and string sections. Double basses got in on the act, playing high in the register, the weird and wonderful sounds given gruff harmonies and comedic punctuation as the ballet unfolded. Light and shade were exquisitely explored, the advantage of having a composer-conductor such as Thomas Adès at the helm meaning no stone was left unturned. This was a memorable interpretation, capping a wholly stimulating evening of music making.

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

Published post no.2,195 – Friday 31 May 2024

Britten Sinfonia at Lunch – Katie Bray sings Freya Waley-Cohen’s Spell Book @ Wigmore Hall

Posted on by
Reply

Katie Bray (mezzo-soprano), Britten Sinfonia Soloists [Jacqueline Shave, Miranda Dale (violins), Clare Finnimore (viola), Caroline Dearnley (cello), Joy Farrall (clarinet), John Lenehan (piano)]

Leclair Trio Sonata in D major Op.2/8 (1728)
Mahler arr. Waley-Cohen Rückert-Lieder (1901-2, arr. 2019)
Lutosławski Bukoliki (1952 arr. 1962)
Waley-Cohen Spell Book (2019)

Wigmore Hall, London
Wednesday 22 January 2020

Photo credits Patrick Allen (Freya Waley-Cohen); Tim Dunk (Katie Bray)

Review by Ben Hogwood

The previews for this concert were intriguing. As well as a performance of a new arrangement of Mahler’s Ruckert-Lieder, we were to be treated to Spell Book, the world premiere tour of a new dramatic work by Freya Waley-Cohen.

Inspired by the composer’s encounter with Rebecca Tamás’ collection of poems WITCH, the song cycle was written for and performed by mezzo-soprano Katie Bray, singing with an ensemble of string quartet, clarinet and piano. In terms of forces used this gave the work a similar profile to Schoenberg’s famous melodrama Pierrot Lunaire. The music fulfilled Waley-Cohen’s wish that it would place us under a spell, as the book had clearly done for the composer. She brought it to life with music of luminosity and captivating drama.

She was helped considerably by Bray (above), who held the attention effortlessly with a commanding performance. The first and most substantial song, spell for Lilith, found her word emphasis in the observation that Lilith is ‘such a bad girl’ setting the expressive tone. The music swept up to impressive heights, Bray’s voice stopping the listener in their tracks while simultaneously nailing the acoustic of the hall.

Waley-Cohen’s response to the text was often vivid, the instruments either offering weighty support to the words or dropping away under their feet. The observation that ‘Lilith, you have a great body’ received appropriately slinky contours, while the contrast of suspension and movement towards the end led to a delirious postlude from John Lenehan’s piano.

The following two songs were more compact but retained Lilith’s intensity. spell for sex had a soft, alluring vocalise that was also remote, while the spell for logic was much more active, pockets of instrumental music bumping into the vocal line but never overwhelming it. The open-ended challenge to the audience was effective, as was the relatively sudden finish, concluding a mysterious and strangely euphoric piece. The spell had indeed been cast.

Spell Book was complemented by Waley-Cohen’s arrangement of Mahler’s Rückert Lieder. In this regard she was bravely nailing her colours to the mast alongside the intimidating figure of Schoenberg, whose arrangement of the composer’s Lieder eines fahrenden gesellen (Songs of a Wayfarer) for chamber ensemble around 100 years ago is still occasionally performed. The ensemble here, replicating that for Spell Book, was cut from similar cloth.

This performance was a qualified success, part of the fault for that lying with the listener and a long-held familiarity with the piano and orchestral versions of Rückert-Lieder. There were however some imaginative qualities here, particularly the technique of doubling instruments at a distance of two octaves. John Lenehan‘s high piano right hand therefore acquired a ghostly shadow in the form of Caroline Dearnley‘s low cello, and this technique was used to create an enchanting, wispy half-light.

It also suited Bray’s range and performance, and while her interpretation felt like it may still be in progress – again the problem of over-familiarity rearing its head – she grew into the songs as they unfolded. The famous Um mitternacht was an inevitable highlight, while the clarinet lines in Blicke mir nicht in die Lieder! (Do not look into my songs!) were beautifully rendered by Joy Farrall. The final song, the rapt Ich bin der Welt abhanden gekommen (I am lost to the world) was beautifully controlled if not quite reaching peak intensity.

Prior to the song cycles we heard the Trio Sonata in D major from Jean-Marie Leclair. It made a nice change to hear this music on modern instruments, the program illustrating how the Trio Sonata was in fact a predecessor of the Piano Trio. Jackie Shave, Caroline Dearnley and John Lenehan clearly enjoyed their time with this piece, and Leclair’s elevation of the cello to much more than mere accompaniment found the two string players engaged in rewarding dialogue.

In between the song collections Dearnley teamed up with viola player Clare Finnimore for Lutoslawski’s six Bukoliki, delectable folk-inspired miniatures originally conceived for piano but subsequently arranged by the composer. Lasting little more than a minute, each one was beautifully formed and strongly expressive, the string players enjoying the melodic ornaments and the rustic sweeps of the bow. The addition of subtle discords created a haunting quality to some of this music, pointing the way to Lutoslawski’s sonic innovations to come.

The Britten Sinfonia’s At Lunch series continues to impress with its imaginative programming and opportunities for contemporary composers. Both aims were realised here in a richly rewarding concert.

Further reading and listening

To discover more about Freya Waley-Cohen, you can visit her website here or listen to her music on Soundcloud here. Meanwhile the Spotify link below offers a chance to hear her Permutations, as played by her sister, violinist Tamsin.