Briefly Noted: Coronation Music (CD of the Month)

An English Coronation, 1902-1953, Gabrieli Consort, Roar, and Players, Chetham's Symphonic Brass Ensemble, S. R. Beale, R. Pierce, M. Martin, E. Slorach, P. McCreesh (released on May 3, 2019) Signum Classics SIGCD569 | 159'21"

From this American's perspective, the only thing to be regretted about the final demise of monarchy would be the ceremonial and music associated with it. Paul McCreesh has put together this 2-CD collection of the best music composed for the coronation of English rulers, following up on a similar compilation of music for the coronation of the Doge in Venice, recorded in two slightly different versions. With forces ranging from intimate to vast, he has recorded music from Gregorian chant to Tallis and Byrd to William Walton and David Matthews in the resonant acoustic of Ely Cathedral and two smaller churches. All of the music is drawn from the coronations of Edward VII (1902), George V (1911), George VI (1937), and Elizabeth II (1953).

The pieces range from expected favorites like Parry's I Was Glad, Handel's explosive Zadok the Priest, and Walton's Coronation Te Deum to less expected discoveries. McCreesh expands his main ensemble with the Gabrieli Roar, a partnership with a number of youth choirs, which adds voice to his projects and gives young singers training. The pieces with mass numbers of singers gain in vigor and excitement what they lose just slightly in refinement. The instrumental works include regal marches and heraldic brass fanfares. Much here to make Anglophiles and royal nostalgists rejoice.

Briefly Noted: Elgar's 'Caractacus'

E. Elgar, Caractacus, E. Llewellyn, E. Llŷr Thomas, R. Wood, C. Purves, A. Miles, Orchestra of Opera North, Huddersfield Choral Society, M. Brabbins (released on March 29, 2019) Hyperion CDA68254 | 96'17"

Edward Elgar came to wider public attention with the premiere of the Enigma Variations. Leading up to that piece was a series of choral works, mostly about episodes drawn from medieval and ancient history. The last of them was Caractacus, the heroic British chieftain who resisted the Roman conquest of the British Isles. Ultimately, he was captured and taken as a prisoner to Rome, where an eloquent final speech convinced the emperor to lighten his sentence from execution to life imprisonment.

A personal connection brought the subject to Elgar's mind, as first his mother and then Elgar himself stayed for a time near the Malvern Hills, where local legend held that Caractacus had made his last stand. The music is of varied quality, with some embarrassing bombast in the patriotic final scene, not least because of the homespun poetry of the composer's neighbor, Henry Arbuthnot Acworth. The best parts are the colorful orchestration of the druid scenes, especially the picturesque "Woodland Interlude" leading into the third scene.

This performance, led by Martyn Brabbins with the Huddersfield Choral Society, is perhaps not ideal, as some of the vocal soloists sound a little strained. At over half the price of its only real competition, the re-released recording led by Richard Hickox, this is a lovely way to explore the lesser-known Elgar back catalog.

Ionarts-at-Large: Elgar in Vienna

Elgar on the continent is a rare occurrence for a number of reasons which would be worth an essay (or five) of its own. Vienna is no different.^[1] When there is an Elgar-sighting, it’s either limited to the Enigma Variations, the Second Symphony, or the Cello Concerto. Amid this rarity of Elgar, another work has reared its head (or hundreds of heads) more frequently in the last decade or so: The lush choral non-oratorio The Dream of Gerontius. Three performances in the last 8 years is pretty decent (altogether there have been five), and every Viennese orchestra has now got a shot at it. The first one was the most experimental band in town, the ORF Radio Symphony Orchestra under Charles Mackerras, which gave the Viennese (maybe even Austrian?) premiere of The Dream of Gerontius in 1986^[2] [Edit: This is not correct; see footnote]. The last one to join the party was now the Lower Austrian Tonkünstler Orchestra, whose technical HQ is in St. Pölten (basically to Vienna what Baltimore is to Washington D.C., if less charming) but whose center of gravity might be said to lie in Vienna. The third performance on January 31^st, like the first, was at the Musikverein’s Golden Hall, conducted by the seasoned, excellent Thomas Michael* Schønwandt, and with the Vienna Singverein on choral duty.

E.Elgar, Dream of Gerontius, M.Elder/The Hallé/A.Coote, P.Groves, B.Terfel Hallé HLD 7520

It’s not really a duty, of course, for a choir to sing Elgar’s most indulgent, catholic, perfumed and incense-enriched work – in fact, it’s probably the choirs that are behind pushing for Gerontius, which is choral red meat. The Singverein threw its excellence into grateful choral work with enthusiasm and sang like a well-oiled machine of 103 cylinders or throats. The Tonkünstler Orchestra sounded pretty darn good, too, with heft and dark breadth and surprisingly symphonic and warm, with the strings especially benefitting from the acoustic of the Golden Hall mixing the voices very nicely towards the back. (Closer to the action, it wasn’t quite as impressive; one could hear that the impression further away was the result of good blending rather than a instant of supreme instrument-for-instrument excellence. But that’s the point of such acoustics and that the Tonkünstler Orchestra isn’t quite the Cleveland Orchestra we knew before and no shame in it.)

The three juicy vocal parts want to be well cast, too. Despite two short-term replacements (Sara Fulgoni for Sarah Conolly und David Butt Philip for Steve Davislim), they were. Most notably the young David Butt Philip (a youthful British cheese-aficionado who looks like a young Wallace, minus Gromit), whose stentorian-lyrical, beautiful voice with just a hint of cliché (a mix of strain on emphasis and concordant increase in vibrato) was really very, very good. Indeed, just a touch of facelessness short of ideal.

The baritone was Matthew Rose, whom we have followed on ionarts over the years: I was unimpressed with his Figaro in a dull revival of a Dieter Dorn / Jürgen Rose production in Munich. Charles saw him in Don Giovanni in Santa Fe, where he “skewered the role with deadly accurate comic timing”, and again in 2014 at a Vocal Arts D.C. recital, where he noted that “Rose’s voice continues to grow, after first striking me as a little gruff and unrounded”, but that he “still tends, in some cases, to hurl [his powerful voice] at the music”. All that came up again in this Gerontius. It’s a very present, darkly radiant, and audible voice, that can grow huge, go high and low without diminishing at either end of his considerable range and is, within limits, hugely impressive as he belts it into deep space. But the louder it gets, the more operatic and less nuanced it becomes. Bellowing out his part in the first half, he sounded more like

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NSO Program 1: Shakespeare at the Symphony

Conductor Edward Gardner (photo by Benjamin Ealovega)

The National Symphony Orchestra had its season opening gala last weekend. The season really began with a program led by British conductor Edward Gardner, heard at the second performance on Friday night. The concept, Shakespeare at the Symphony, was a perfect excuse to bring together two excellent pieces never before presented by the NSO, Edward Elgar's Falstaff and the suite from William Walton's film score for Laurence Olivier's Henry V.

As Gardner announced before Falstaff he thinks audiences need help following the dramatic action in Elgar's delightful Shakespearean tone poem. To that end, we were invited to follow the story through descriptions on a supertitle screen, and it did enhance the music's effect. Gardner is climbing the ladder of principal guest positions, having served in that capacity with the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra and now the Bergen Philharmonic. He was able to bring the music to life with decisive ideas and a clear, contained set of gestures. He put the second violin section back with the first violins, moving the violas to the outer right edge of the orchestra. This allowed them to be heard much more clearly, a good idea since both Elgar and Walton gave them important melodies. The sotto voce sound of the string in the robbery scene (as well as of the violas and cellos in the scene in Shallow's orchard) and the hilarious bassoon solos were high points. Concertmaster Nurit Bar-Josef had a wistful, nostalgic sound as Falstaff dreamed of himself as a slender youth.

Other Reviews: Seth Arenstein, NSO opens season with Shakespeare in words and music (Washington Classical Review, September 30) Anne Midgette, NSO starts season with a new face in Shakespeare (Washington Post, September 29)

Elgar's score ends with the death of Falstaff, and the return of Prince Hal's melody indicates that his last thought is of his young friend who has spurned him. Walton's suite begins almost with the mournful passacaglia for Falstaff's death. Top-notch solo playing from English horn and flute stood out, as did more exquisite all-string sound. Before the final movement of the suite, actor Matthew Rauch gave a stirring recitation of Henry V's St. Crispin's Day speech. It led quite naturally to the "Agincourt Song" that concludes the suite, into which Walton incorporated the "Agincourt Carol," an English folk song from the 15th century.

Actors William Vaughan and Audrey Bertaux were less memorable in the balcony scene from Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet, staged with him moving among the orchestra musicians and her in the chorister seating above. This led just as aptly into the final selection, Tchaikovsky's fantasy-overture on Romeo and Juliet, which received a performance that really made me like it. It is true that in this piece, Tchaikovsky does not give in to his usual tendency to go on too long, but still Gardner accomplished the near-impossible by making me enthusiastic about a Tchaikovsky symphonic work. The battle scene was well marshaled — all fast, crisp, and aligned — and Gardner never let the potentially soupy bits wallow or drag in the least.

This concert repeats this evening at 8 p.m. in the Kennedy Center Concert Hall.

James MacMillan Leads the NSO

J. MacMillan, The Sacrifice, C. Purves, L. Milne, Welsh National Opera, A. Negus (Chandos, 2010) Vaughan Williams, Complete Symphonies, London Philharmonic, New Philharmonia, A. Boult (Warner, 2012)

This month is all about the Wagner in Washington, but the area's two top orchestras are both offering excellent programs, too. Last night Scottish composer James MacMillan made his debut at the helm of the National Symphony Orchestra. As he did when he conducted the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra in 2008, MacMillan brought some of his own music, which the NSO last played in 2013, when they presented the local premiere of his third piano concerto.

Welsh National Opera gave the 2007 world premiere of MacMillan's second opera, The Sacrifice. The libretto by Michael Symmons Roberts, derived from the Mabinogion, the Welsh national folk epic, tells the story of a woman torn away from her love to be given in a politically advantageous marriage. MacMillan extracted Three Interludes from the opera to make a rather pleasing symphonic work, played here for the first time by the NSO. The large orchestration creates the impression of a tribal world, with violent twists provided by blaring low brass and plenty of percussion. The first movement ("The Parting") opens with a wild clamor of sound, after which a menacing melody rises through the orchestra. The second movement ("Passacaglia") presents the eponymous bass pattern in the pizzicato double basses, where it stays, eventually doubled by low brass. Heavy use of high woodwinds often gives a screeching effect, perhaps to evoke fifes or other folk instruments. The third movement is faster and martial, the low brass and reeds thumping away on a march pattern, ending in a Shostakovich-like finale accompanying the murder of the couple's young son.

Along with Scotland and Wales, the British program included pieces by two English composers, beginning with Elgar's poignant cello concerto. Alisa Weilerstein has played this concerto, so associated with Jacqueline du Pré, in recent years with the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra and also the NSO, in 2013. Cellist Alban Gerhardt brought an intense, moody approach to the solo part, rising up forcefully on the A string to bring in the full orchestra in the first movement, and with a big pizzicato sound in the transition to the faster section. He played fast and furious in the Allegro molto conclusion to the second movement, with MacMillan carving out enough sonic space and subtlety of color for his soloist's sometimes small sound. Gerhardt's strengths lay in a tender and introspective interpretation, rather than broad strokes, to which this concerto is nicely suited, making the third movement's delicate softness the high point rather than the heady sweep of the finale.

Other Reviews: Anne Midgette, The NSO goes to Britain (Washington Post, May 13)

More performances of the Vaughan Williams symphonies are generally welcome, and MacMillan led the NSO's first performance of the composer's fourth symphony since Leonard Slatkin conducted it in 1999. (The last Vaughan Williams symphony played by the NSO was the 'London' Symphony in 2013.) The fourth is founded on a dissonance, a minor 2nd that opens the first movement with a bracing clash, part of a chromatic motif (F, E, G-flat, F) reportedly drawn from Beethoven's ninth symphony and disturbingly similar to the BACH name motif. MacMillan relished the general loudness of the piece, allowing the gnarled mass of lines to clot upon itself in the first movement, but also coaxed lush string playing and cooing brass accompaniment in the second theme.

The harmonic palette of the second movement sounded not unlike that used by MacMillan in his interludes from The Sacrifice, with a beautiful concluding flute solo over the movement's dying embers. The chromatic theme (and a second quartal theme) runs throughout all four movements, showing the influence of Beethoven as Vaughan Williams transformed it into a dancing scherzo theme in the third movement and a triumphant call in the fugato finale. MacMillan again marshaled the NSO forces impressively in the slightly maniacal fourth movement, with a hint of Shostakovich-style banality, as the chromatic theme was obsessively repeated and altered through many diminutions and augmentations, seething with tension.

This concert repeats tonight and tomorrow, in the Kennedy Center Concert Hall.

Ionarts-at-Large: Widmann's new Viola Concerto

The Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra beckoned last week with an interesting fare of the new and the rare: Jörg Widmann’s Viola Concerto (the German premiere, after it received performances from the co-commissioning Orchestre de Paris conducted by Paavo Järvi in late 2015 at the Philharmonie de Paris) and Elgar’s Second Symphony.

The latter is a rarity in central Europe, where Elgar is treated with a certain amount of skepticism if not outright condescension. So much that I was surprised to find that the BRSO had actually performed Elgar’s Second quite recently… in 2008 under another Brit on missionary Elgar-tour: Sir Colin Davis (coupled with a Mozart Violin concerto; ionarts review here.) Then again, to think of eight years as “quite recent” shows something about the state of Elgar across the channel. I dare say that his status did not improve after this performance. Granted, the brisk first movement (I loved how the very opening of it was shaped)—bordering wild, for Elgar’s standards—had the orchestra right in lock-step with Harding. The second movement had a jolly let’s-have-fun-performance quality. “Don’t think too much about it”, he seemed to suggest and just dig in and be carried away. (Only that the carrying-away didn’t arrive very notably.) But there loomed buts.

E.Elgar, Symphony No.2, G.Sinopoli/Philharmonia DG J.Widmann, Violin Concerto, D.Harding/C.Tetzlaff Ondine

Too loud, thick in texture (arguably Elgar’s fault, in part, and also noted after Davis’ performance), and incoherently argued, the symphony still ended an episodic mash of sound with nice moments, hardly connected to—much less held together by—the rest of the music. And with little by way of noble English demeanor, a stereotype which Elgar’s music rather befits. It would be easy to blame the orchestra for not getting an inflection or style with which it is not familiar. But not so the BRSO, even with plenty substitute players as eager a group of quick learners (with technique to match) as three is on the orchestral scene.

And so I was reminded that Daniel Harding, that youngish conductor who seems to tick all the right boxes, has all the right connections, and a pedigree to match (Abbado- and Rattle-disciple) has been the only conductor that I have ever heard a bad concert with the otherwise unflappable BRSO*. Something always seems to not quite gel when I hear Harding. Anyway, dwelling on unlucky Elgar is needless when a highlight can still be reported, namely said Widmann Concerto. The work startles the uninitiated, beginning with the unusual setup: sparse strings, sitting in a semi-circle with plenty of room and several lonely music stands between them. Then the soloist enters from off stage as the concerto is already under way, (ab)using the instrument as a tam-tam. The soloist—Antoine Tamestit—half dances his way to the music stand nearest him and from there begins to make his way in concentric circles around the orchestra until he finds, for the finale, the conventional soloist’s position next to the conductor.

This he does by way of acting and interacting with musicians en route. For example an angry tuba that barks at him loud enough to make him jump. Tamestit answers with a vigorous pizzicato (I didn’t look which finger he used), the kind of which he had already delivered in the first five minutes with such vigor that I was afraid his hands might start bleeding. Perhaps Widmann had speculated with a guitar concerto for a while before settling on a viola concerto when the initial commission fell through. Amid sparse strings, pizzicato orgies, shivering glissandi, and further experiments in sound—some pointillist others with a metallic ring to it—a voice emerges that one might half expect in something influenced by Messiaen. It’s ten minutes into the concerto and Tamestit hasn’t had a bow in his hand yet. When he first does, it is still only the bow’s button which he taps on strings. It’s certainly a work that makes Widmann’s powerhouse Violin Concerto look ultra-conventional.

If this all sounds rather naff, well, it might easily have been. But for the poise and style and earnest beauty with which Antoine Tamestit performed the concerto, it came across as interesting, indeed captivating instead. I certainly was alert for every second of it—and easily so—which is more than I can say about most concertos. And not just I, by all appearances:

The audience, partly due to self-selection, partly because it is one of the keener, more interested symphonic audiences, listened to the stereophonic going-ons in silence which I am tempted to describe as “rapt”. Admirably few coughing salvos disrupted the shape-shifting, character-switching, landscape-altering concert. There, Omar Khayyam suddenly popped up, courtesy of the winds! Repetitive motions of buzzing sound create a surprisingly catchy rhythmic urgency of near-Bartók-String-Quartet proportions. A Scream… and the orchestra sounds like it is falling down a massive stairwell. One more massive glissando and Tamestit finally in ‘finale-position.’ Here he doesn’t take off and deliver a relentless, powerful final run to the finish, as I imagined, a final-stretch tour de force of violistic [sic] rampage. Instead there reigns quiet and a newborn tenderness, sweet and with shades of innocence.

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* It was Beethoven’s Grosse Fuge arranged for orchestra followed by a Bruckner Mass; I must have elected not to review it then. But I’ve also heard Harding in excellent Bartók later that same year with the same orchestra. Otherwise memory serves up more ho-hum experiences than ecstasy, though. Then again, one of the very few musicians I adore happens to think very highly of Harding and so I assume the fault is entirely mine and try to suspend judgement… even if I am more and more tending toward the conclusion that for all the qualities so obviously there, something is missing with Harding (as of yet). Perhaps another decade of daily grind with the Swedish Radio Symphony Orchestra will fix everything, if anything needs fixing.

Runnicles with the NSO

R. Strauss, Four Last Songs (inter alia), J. Eaglen, London Symphony Orchestra, D. Runnicles (2000) Elgar, Enigma Variations, London Symphony Orchestra, C. Davis (2007)

The National Symphony Orchestra is looking for a successor to their current music director, Christoph Eschenbach, who will step down at the end of next season. Figuring high on my list would have been Scottish conductor Donald Runnicles, whose recordings I have much admired and who had an excellent run at San Francisco Opera. His term as music director of the BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra ends next year, although he will apparently continue leading the Deutsche Oper Berlin for now. This week's NSO concerts offered the first chance to hear Runnicles live, and the experience far exceeded expectations.

The overture to Mozart's The Magic Flute featured sharp ideas, with the beat crisply marked by the baton in Runnicles' left hand. All those critical "knock" chords, the Masonic signature, were clearly defined and unified, with beautifully balanced tutti sound, and all sections paid close attention to delineating the repeated-note theme of the fast section, which bubbled with energy, if some occasional ensemble disagreements, all minor.

Russian soprano Olga Peretyatko, who had to cancel her local debut with the Washington Concert Opera one year ago, made an exemplary NSO debut in Richard Strauss's Four Last Songs, a piece we would gladly hear once a year. We have been following her via online streaming, and the reports of our European correspondent have been enthusiastic. Little surprise, then, that this is a voice worth hearing, firm and earthy at the middle and bottom, clear and unrestrained at the top. The latter quality made the end of the third song, Beim Schlafengehen, particularly beautiful, as the soul yearns to soar in the magic wreath of the night. Runnicles, who made a fine recording of these songs with Jane Eaglen some years ago, here had a voice more uniformly up to the task (and an improvement over the last singer to perform them here, Renée Fleming in 2010). The NSO responded with intense violin solos, not overly lachrymose, from concertmaster Nurit Bar-Josef and a luscious, poignant horn solo from outstanding principal player Abel Pereira at the end of the second song, September.

Other Reviews: Anne Midgette, The NSO starts its regular season with a promising debut (Washington Post, October 2) Kate Molleson, BBCSSO/Runnicles review – warm, bold and incisive (The Guardian, September 30)

Without doing any kind of official count, I probably have issues with the NSO's string sections most often in my reviewing. What a delight to hear the strings sounding so good in Elgar's Serenade for String Orchestra, op. 20, the violas purring on the little energetic motif running through the first movement and the first violins weaving a single, limpid thread of sound. The second movement, taken not too slow and therefore more heartfelt than schmaltzy, was lush and tender, capped by a genial third movement, in no way agitated, which felt completely opposite from the approach often taken by Eschenbach.

Edward Elgar and His World, ed. Byron Adams (Bard Music Festival, 2007)

The same was true with the larger orchestra playing for the Enigma Variations, far surpassing the merely quirky rendition from the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra earlier this month. Runnicles carefully measured every crescendo, and the fast movements rollicked and thundered, grabbing the listener by the collar, brief and coordinated bursts of sonic wallop. The eighth variation, depicting the ladies of the Worcester Philharmonic Association, was graceful and passionate, leading into the famous ninth variation by a fragile sustained violin note, a moment marred by the crash of something at the back of the hall. Given the title "Nimrod," this graceful piece represents Elgar's beloved friend August Jaeger (German for hunter, thus the biblical hunter of the title), who encouraged Elgar in a moment of despondency, so the minor-mode theme, representing the loneliness of composition, is transformed into major. (Elgar used to sign letters with the first four notes of the mysterious theme, and now every time I hear the piece, I think of those first four notes sung to the words "Edward Elgar.") Runnicles brought out all sorts of details, like the delicate solos on viola and flute, the latter in its silvery low range, in the tenth variation.

This concert repeats tonight and tomorrow night, in the Kennedy Center Concert Hall. Through a special promotion, $20 tickets on the orchestra level are available for both performances.

Prom 75: Vienna Philharmonic's 'Dream'

We welcome this review by guest contributor Martin Fraenkel, from the Proms in London. Readers are invited to listen to this concert online (Part 1 | Part 2).

Elgar, The Dream of Gerontius, J. Baker, J. Mitchinson, J. Shirley-Quirk, City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra and Chorus, S. Rattle (2003)

Earlier this summer, Daniel Barenboim brought his Berlin Staatskapelle Orchestra to London’s Royal Festival Hall and gave a profound account of Elgar’s second symphony. Barenboim was awarded the Elgar Society Medal and spoke movingly of the role of Elgar in his life, and especially of his late wife, the “great Elgarian” Jacqueline du Pré. His mission, he said, was for Elgar to be recognized not as a great British composer but simply as a great composer.

Yesterday, across town, at the Royal Albert Hall, Prom Number 75, the penultimate of the season, marked a further step in Elgar’s ascent into the stable repertory of the world’s great orchestras. In the second of its two appearances this season, the Vienna Philharmonic was on stage, led by Simon Rattle, performing the most monumental of all Elgar works, The Dream of Gerontius. Elgar has been a prominent part of Rattle's career, too, and this performance showcased many of his characteristic hallmarks: expansive orchestral phrasing, ample use of pauses, and the lingering suspended silence following the final “Amen.”

In these hands, there was no doubting that this work had more to do with European Fin-de-Siècle angst than the pomp and circumstance of imperial England, with which Elgar is so firmly associated by his best-known works. Written in 1900, shortly after the Enigma Variations had brought Elgar to prominence, The Dream is an outpouring of Elgar’s Catholic faith, both splendid and anguished, trying to reconcile it with the long choral tradition of the Anglican empire. The depth of tone of the Vienna string section more than rose to this task, with the viola section relishing their unaccustomed prominence right from the opening prelude, including a hauntingly beautiful solo by the principal. At times indeed this Dream sounded more like an orchestral tone poem with vocal accompaniment than a choral work. The trombone section, although prominent, never overplayed the moments of magnificence Elgar accorded them.

Other Reviews: Andrew Clements, Vienna PO/Rattle: The Dream of Gerontius review – persuasive dramatic power (The Guardian, September 9) Alexandra Coghlan, Prom 75: The Dream of Gerontius, VPO, Rattle (The Arts Desk, September 9)

Sadly, the brilliance of the orchestral playing was not quite matched by the vocalists. Through much of Part 1, Toby Spence’s rather thin Gerontius was often straining to make his presence felt over the orchestra. The lighter orchestral accompaniment of Part Two gave him rather more opportunity but was offset by similar challenges for mezzo-soprano Magdalena Kožená’s Angel, exacerbated by her over-prominent hand gesticulations. Only baritone Roderick Williams’s Priest had the depth and warmth of melodic tone to impose himself, producing the one moment of real vocal drama with his first entry.

The massed ranks of the BBC Proms Youth Choir, a collaboration of several youth choirs, performed admirably throughout. With nearly five hundred performers on stage, at times it seemed that Rattle was strained to the limit to keep the ensemble together. With this great orchestra playing at the peak of its capabilities one was left feeling that a truly outstanding evening required more from the supporting cast.

BSO Season Preview

Vivaldi, Le Quattro Stagioni, Concerto Italiano, R. Alessandrini (2003)

Charles T. Downey, BSO at Strathmore skips the uncommon music in season preview (Washington Post, September 11)

Ensembles and concert series around the Washington area are coming back to life. On Thursday night at Strathmore, the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra offered a preview of the season to come.

The musical tasting menu was a hodgepodge of mostly single movements from a range of pieces. The first movement of Debussy’s “Ibéria” featured castanets and some Spanish flavor, with the mood remaining on the sedate side throughout the first half... [Continue reading]

Baltimore Symphony Orchestra
With Jonathan Carney (violin) and Christopher Seaman (conductor)
Music Center at Strathmore

PREVIOUSLY:
Charles T. Downey, BSO skillfully illuminates familiar terrain of Vivaldi, Handel and Bach (Washington Post, July 25)

Chamber Symphonies in Fairfax

Charles T. Downey, Concert review: Fairfax Symphony Orchestra balances the sweet and astringent
Washington Post, January 20, 2014

Britten, Serenade for Tenor, Horn, and Strings (inter alia), I. Bostridge, Berlin Philharmonic, S. Rattle (2005)

The Washington area has so many regional orchestras that the enterprising ensembles among them would do well to distinguish themselves from the crowd. Christopher Zimmerman, the music director of the Fairfax Symphony Orchestra, has been doing just that with his alluring choice of repertoire. The group’s latest concert, on Saturday night at George Mason University, brought together four pieces that I have not heard from a local orchestra in at least a decade.

A mirrorlike arrangement of the pieces embedded two more serious works between lighter ones, by Edward Elgar and Benjamin Britten, both of which recycle and preserve music written early in each composer’s career. Elgar’s “Serenade in E Minor” was a mellow experience, the outer movements gently rolling and the middle slow movement tender, the juicy dissonances drawn out sweetly. Britten’s “Simple Symphony” was just as pleasing, each movement like a bite-size petit four, here tart and there chocolate-smooth. [Continue reading]

Fairfax Symphony Orchestra
Music by Elgar, Britten, Shostakovich
George Mason University, Harris Theater

NSO: Mark Elder, Stephen Hough

Charles T. Downey, NSO review: Mark Elder, Stephen Hough offer a spirited performance of Lizst concerto
Washington Post, January 14, 2014

Elgar, In the South (inter alia), Hallé, M. Elder (2003)

One hallmark of Christoph Eschenbach’s tenure at the National Symphony Orchestra has been innovative programming. Many concerts have balanced familiar favorites with music never before played by the ensemble, or not played in a long time. The trend continues this week under guest conductor Mark Elder, who on Thursday night led a spirited performance of Liszt’s first piano concerto, sandwiched between nostalgic renditions of tone poems by Edward Elgar and Richard Strauss.

Pianist Stephen Hough provided the fireworks in the Liszt, a slightly naughty thriller packed into 20 exciting minutes. If it seems as though Hough was just in the area, he was — playing Liszt’s second concerto with the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra last year and Rachmaninoff’s first with the NSO the year before that. Hough again showed solid technique, with a whiff of the demonic in the more challenging sections and a theatrical touch that served the piece well. [Continue reading]

National Symphony Orchestra
With Mark Elder (conductor) and Stephen Hough (piano)
Kennedy Center Concert Hall

RECENTLY
Elder (2008)

Hough: BSO (2013), NSO (2012)

Liszt's first concerto: BSO and Yuja Wang (2005)

Don Quixote, Chicago Symphony Orchestra (2012)

London Town: The LSO, Vengerov, and the Queen

As my colleague-friend-mentor Bob Reilly and I approached the air-raid shelter masquerading as a cultural center under the name “Barbican Hall”, a motorcade skipped by… tiny, by Washington DC / Presidential standards. Thirty feet further, amid a handful of enthusiast bystanders, it spilled its contents—chiefly a little white haired woman—into the Barbican, blocking the entry for a couple minutes.

On the inside waited the London Symphony Orchestra with a concert framing the presentation of the 2012 Queen’s Medal for Music. And what would be the point of a Queen’s Medal for Music without Her Majesty The Queen. In contrast to her quiet, placid ways (which reminds me of nothing so much as of Harpo Marx, minus the props), she was received with much Fanfare. Literally, too: An Entry Fanfare by Dudley Bright, the National Anthem, and then the Master of the Queen's Music’s Fanfare: Her Majesty’s Welcome: Royal Gebrauchsmusik by Peter Maxwell Davies — conducted, especially, by Timothy Redman. Maxwell Davies’ piece for professional orchestra and student players is an exceedingly inoffensive, pleasant brassy curtain raiser with tasty sour tinges in the harmony and irregular rhythms that propel it with foot-tapping drive… not that there was much foot-tapping on part of the audience, royal or not.

Maxim Vengerov, whose career has been rather quiet since his prolonged Tango-sabbatical, performed the Tchaikovsky Violin Concerto. With his solid, leathery tone, he cut through the delicate, fleet, and light-footed orchestral opening that Robin Ticciati (substituting for Colin Davis, who is in ill health) coaxed from the orchestra. Vengerov did so unassailably, as if in isolation from his surroundings, and without any detours by way of nuance; rhythmically (if not intonation-wise) secure and steadily as though he had swallowed a metronome. For the most part Ticciati just followed, but he also added magnified timpani accents which, together with the straightforward, mercifully unperfumed interpretation, allowed for new, unusual hearing-angles on the concerto. Like or not-like these peculiar effects; hearing a war horse slightly anew and newly askew has to be be a welcome thing.

P.Tchaikovsky, Violin Concerto, V.Repin / V.Gergiev / Kirov Orchestra Philips Elgar, Blacher, Kodály, Enigma-, Paganini-, Peacock-Variations, G.Solti / WPh Decca

Despite uncharacteristic near-stumbles from Vengerov—in the first cadenza especially—there was also the suspended tenderness in the second movement to enjoy, and for those who like the infallible applause-generating effectiveness of the hurried fast-and-loud approach, also the finale. For those who thought the Tchaikovsky an odd run-through, meanwhile, a stately Adagio from Bach’s C major Sonata ought to have been assuaging stuff.

After intermission came the ceremonial bit: After a film on the short history of the Queen’s Medal for Music (past winners include Emma Kirkby, Judith Weir, Bryn Terfel, Charles Mackerras, Colin Davis), the 2012 medal was bestowed upon the National Youth Orchestra of Great Britain (last reviewed here in 2009)… the first time an institution was at the receiving end. A few pimply representative representatives clambered up the stage, shook the silent Queen’s hand, forgot to curtsey, and toddled off after an awkward moment of silent disorientation, all under the auspices of master of ceremonies Peter Maxwell Davies.

Robin Ticciati—who looks a little like young Jake LaMotta shadowboxing—and the LSO (amended with a few of those NYO kids) then put a most English end to the concert, with a run-through of Elgar’s Enigma Variations. After a bit of routine tedium and a cliché-sodden Nimrod variation—it’s supposed to be two friends talking about Beethoven; it often ends up two pallbearers on a rainy day in a pub—there were moments lovely enough to redeem the entire concert. Most notably the Basil G. Nevinson cello bit of the 12^th variation (a much more naturally emotive section than Nimrod) and the following Romanza, with exemplary pianissimo passages and a shining string sound at last. Botched entries in the “E.D.U.” finale did little to undo this late fine impression of a reasonably good concert that has already begun to fade from memory.