Author: Rosemary Collier

Viola central to an interesting programme of student performances from three centuries

Posted on by Rosemary Collier

Viola Students of NZSM
Gyahida Ahmad, viola, Ashley Mah, piano; Elyse Dalabakis, viola, Laura Brown, clarinet and Hana Kim, piano; Laura Barton, violin; Grant Baker, viola, Catherine Norton, piano

Schubert: ‘Arpeggione’ Sonata, second movement
Max Bruch: Pieces for clarinet, viola and piano, Op.83
Bach: Partita no.2 in D minor for solo violin, BWV 1004 (four movements)
George Enescu: Concertstück

St. Andrew’s on The Terrace

Wednesday, 25 May 2016, 12.15pm

My apologies if I have not got the first performers’ names correctly; they were not in the printed programme, but were announced at the beginning of the concert. However, a person behind me was talking on a cellphone at the time, and I could not hear them properly. I made enquiries at the end of the concert, but this has meant my interpreting another person’s handwriting – possibly not correctly.

The item these two students played was not in the printed programme. Their playing of the slow movement from Schubert’s sonata (originally written for a rather short-lived instrument, the Arpeggione, a bowed guitar) was lacking in confidence at the beginning, and the viola intonation was ‘off’ in several places. Perhaps their inclusion in the concert was somewhat premature for their stage of musical study.

The Bruch pieces were a different story. Four of the composer’s eight pieces were performed. No obvious disadvantage in that, but it made for a rather slow and sombre sequence, since two were marked andante, one allegro con moto, and the last (no. 6) andante con moto. Parts of the movements were Brahmsian in character. Of the movements left out, numbers 4 and 7 would be considerably faster, judging from their tempo markings.

All three players are fine musicians, confident and very competent. The viola tone was lovely and mellow, the clarinet was played with panache and sensitivity, and the pianist judged her part just right as to volume and intensity, so that she neither drowned out the other players, nor was too submissive in rendering her part. It was a fine performance for a well-judged combination, and they played an attractive set of pieces that showed off the instruments.

Bach’s solo violin music is a sort of bible for violinists, but maintaining momentum, accuracy, tempo and so on is not easy. Laura Barton made a beautiful job of the first four movements of the chosen Partita. She is a highly skilled player, negotiating all the turns and twists in the music with ease, it seemed, and at least in the early stages, hardly looking at the score. She is secure technically, and after commendable Allemanda and Corrente, her Sarabanda, double-stopping and chords involving several strings, was handled adroitly. In the flowing, dancing Giga her tone was bright, with every note in place, and the character of the piece was portrayed very well, in lively fashion. One could imaging people in the 18th century dancing to the music. Inevitably perhaps, though she used a baroque bow, the modern strings made inappropriate sounds at times.

Last up was Grant Baker, accompanied by the immaculate Catherine Norton, playing a work for viola by George Enescu (1881-1955), teacher of the great violinist Yehudi Menuhin, whose 100th anniversary was marked on radio the other day. The Concertstück required a number of demanding techniques, but Grant Baker took these in his stride and did not draw attention to them, playing throughout in a musical and expressive way. His instrument and his playing gave out a warm tone, but lighter than the dark, mellow tone of Elyse Dalabakis’s in the Bruch work. Baker’s viola pitch was a little wayward in places, but both musicians brought off a difficult work in fine style.

 

Marvellous programme of string sextets from Amici Ensemble and Wellington Chamber Music

Posted on by Rosemary Collier
Amici Ensemble
(Wellington Chamber Music Trust)Anthony Ritchie: Ants: Sextet for Strings, Op.185
Tchaikovsky: Souvenir de Florence, Op.70
Brahms: Sextet in G, Op.36

St. Andrew’s on The Terrace

Sunday, 15 May 2016, 3.00pm

It is heartening and impressive to see that a New Zealand composer has written 185 opus numbers and indeed, as I write, Anthony Ritchie’s flute concerto is being broadcast on Radio New Zealand Concert. His Sextet was commissioned this year by Christopher Marshall for the Amici Ensemble. This work is apparently a follow-on from his octet, appropriately named ‘Octopus’. Taking the first syllable of the new work’s grouping might have been dangerous, so instead we have the first syllable of the composer’s name.

The movements are titled ‘Hatchling’ (or as in the heading to the programme note, ‘Hatching’), ‘Working’, ‘Anteater’, ‘Self-impaling’ and ‘Survival’. These occasioned a certain amount of joking between my neighbour at the concert and me; especially the second to last movement title; at my home the ants self-impale in the electric socket over the bench. My neighbour (and reviewing colleague) thought that this was obviously working as a means of pest control. However, the music proved that even ants can be inspiring.

All the players are members of the New Zealand Symphony Orchestra: Donald Armstrong and Malavika Gopal (violins), Julia Joyce and Andrew Thomson (violas) and Andrew Joyce and Ken Ichinose (cellos).

The five movements of the sextet were played without a break, and it was not always easy to tell where they changed. The pentatonic opening created a delightful mood, contrasting busyness with a spacious feeling from the first violin especially, displaying the very skilled string writing that characterised the whole work. There was much rhythmic drive and energy; pizzicato and sul ponticello (playing close to the bridge) techniques were utilised. In both first and last movements there were sections of a moto perpetuo character. Other motifs and diversity of rhythms revealed a variety of qualities. The whole was accomplished, enjoyable, expressive, and fun.

At the conclusion of the Tchaikovsky work, my neighbour remarked that it seemed almost orchestral in nature; my reply was that the recording I have is indeed played by a string orchestra (22 players). Nevertheless, it was rewarding to hear Souvenir de Florence played in its original form, though the quality, animation and volume of sound achieved by these players, in the fine acoustics of St. Andrew’s, made it hard to realise at times that we were hearing a sextet and not a string orchestra. It was wonderfully rich and sonorous playing.

The allegro con spirito first movement lived up to its designation, right from its passionate opening. It was both dynamic and exciting, alternating with lush moments played with complete unanimity. There were insistent motifs and rhythms. The slow second movement was, as Donald Armstrong told the audience in his introductory remarks, more Italian in character than were the other movements. Some of the music was enchanting, with gorgeous melodies, and a long, bewitching passage of luscious, grandiose, incisive chords, as in a choral composition; they sent shivers down my spine. The superb cello playing of Andrew Joyce in a solo melody exemplified again what many of us heard on a bigger stage on Friday evening when he played the beautiful cello solo in Brahms’s second piano concerto – and again in a solo passage in Shostakovich’s first symphony.

The third movement is shorter and lighter in tone, but not without energy and vivacity, especially in passages of folk-inspired tunes, and echoes of the previous movement. It ends quietly. The allegro finale should have had us dancing in the aisles, such was the animation and rhythmic vitality of the music. The fullness of tone was always impressive. As the excellent programme note by Julie Coulson ended “The movement concludes in a frenetic, headlong rush that leaves no doubt of Tchaikovsky’s sense of triumph.” In which he was quite justified.

I have hunted in vain for the programme of an early evening concert from those distant, halcyon days when there were many classical concerts in the International Festival of the Arts. The Sextets of Brahms, which were new to me, were played by an ensemble led by Carl Pini, at that time based in Christchurch. What I did discover, though, was that in the 1992 Festival there were, in addition to the New Zealand String Quartet, three string quartets visiting from overseas for the Festival! What a plethora of fine music we had in those Festivals! Concerts were well attended, I recall.

As the programme note stated, the first movement wavers between two tonalities, a feature typical of Brahms – it occurred in the 2nd piano concerto played on Friday, and in a number of his motets and other choral pieces. Soon there is a bold melody from the cello, soon repeated, that reminded me of some of his lovely lieder. This was followed by a violin melody, and wistful interchanges between the instruments. More fine melodies later made the whole a very satisfying movement.

The scherzo second movement produced long, winding passages that had a mysterious quality, apart from the jocular presto trio section, which was more like a gipsy dance, with much pizzicato backing it. The slow movement again did not quickly reveal its tonal home. Again, pizzicato ornamented the melodies, lessening the solemnity somewhat. The tempo and spirit livened up for a time, before lapsing back into pensive mood, with its undulating phrases and rhythms.

The finale restored life, colour and sparkle. Once more, there were dynamic solo passages for the cello. Comparisons are unfair, but… compared with Tchaikovsky, Brahms shows plenty of inventiveness, in a less exuberant style; the exciting ending perhaps gave the lie to that remark.

It was marvellous to hear these works from outside the standard chamber music repertoire. The three substantial works brought out uniformly excellent playing from the ensemble. The concert was being recorded by Radio New Zealand Concert, so we may look forward to hearing it again, via radio.

 

Forty years celebrated by Wainuiomata Choir, in excellent spirits with fine choral music

Posted on by Rosemary Collier

Celebration Concert – singing in the valley for 40 years

Music by Bruckner, Handel, Stainer, Clausen, Mendelssohn, Fauré, Seiber, Purcell, Praetorius, Tavener, Rheinberger, Te Rangi Pai and Leonard Cohen

Wainuiomata Choir, Musical Director Sue Robinson, accompanist Elizabeth Marrison, with string ensemble and Fiona McCabe (piano)

St. Mark’s Church, Woburn, Lower Hutt

Sunday, 8 May 2015, 3.30pm

The concert, first performed in Wainuiomata a week earlier, consisted mainly of items performed at significant concerts during the choir’s history, such as the ten-years anniversary. The choir was formed by John Knox soon after his return from several years working in London, where he sang in the Bach Choir, conducted by the famous Sir David Willcocks. John’s collaborator was Bill McCabe, Fiona’s father. John Knox conducted the choir for many years; others have followed.

Not only but also, Knox was chair of the Orpheus Choir of Wellington for a considerable period, where he facilitated a number of important events, not least bringing Sir David to New Zealand to conduct it and other choirs, including the Wainuiomata Choir This started a pattern of frequent visits here by Sir David. John started the annual choral workshops in Wellington, run by the Wellington Region of the New Zealand Choral Federation, which are still going. There were other initiatives too.

The choir still boasts two original members, one of whom gave brief historical notes at the conclusion of the performance. Their fine accompanist has been with them for 15 years, and Fiona McCabe was accompanist in the past; she told us of the encouragement she received from John Knox, and that she first accompanied at the age of ten!

Several items were sung a cappella, including the first, ‘Locus Iste’ by Bruckner. This sublime motet is treacherous; while beautiful and evocative (‘This place was made by God, a priceless sacrament, it is without reproach’), it presents intonation difficulties. Here, there was a strong bass line and good tenors who did not fall into the traps that are there for them, but the women’s tuning dropped a little at times. The choir sang with pleasing tone, enunciation and vitality.

‘Let God arise’ is from one of Handel’s Chandos Anthems. The performance with strings and Fiona McCabe playing the piano was commendable. The level of piano tone was just right for choir and strings not to be overwhelmed. The piano lid was on neither long stick nor short stick, but resting on a hymn-book, so it was just slightly open. Timing and rhythm were excellent, as was the handling of florid passages – so important to making baroque music live. Through all the items attacks and cut-offs were precise.

‘God so loved the world’ from Stainer’s Crucifixion is another a cappella item that can so easily go flat. The phrasing and dynamics were paid more than adequate attention, but falling notes sometimes fell a little far. Nevertheless, it was a worthy performance. ‘Set me as a seal’ by René Clausen was not quite so successful. Repeated notes were sometimes flat, but otherwise the performance was satisfactory. Words came over well.

Mendelssohn’s lovely ‘He watching over Israel’ from Elijah fared better. A good pace was maintained, and the choir sang with verve. Mendelssohn’s soaring melodies came through thoughtfully and joyously. Another highlight in the choral repertoire is Fauré’s Requiem. The ‘In Paradisum’ movement is demanding to sing (and pitch suffered here, too), but it is ecstatic music of an elevated quality that is utterly uplifting.

There followed a sequence of dances (tango, foxtrot, habanera etc. – about 12 in all) for piano duet by Mátyás Seiber, played by Elizabeth Marrison and Sue Robinson. The pieces were quite delightful, and the duetists played very well together, always spot on. The music was fun, but with due credit to the pianists, the concert would have stood on its own without these, coming as they did just before the interval, when the choristers would get a break anyway.

The ‘Sailors’ Chorus’ and ‘Sailors’ Dance’ from Purcell’s Dido and Aeneas were given vivacious, characterful rendition, facial expression and a certain amount of physical movement adding to the animated nature of the music, much enhanced by the playing of the strings and piano.

Animation remained for the chorus ‘And the glory of the Lord’ from Messiah. As in other places, Sue Robinson made brief comments, sometimes humorous, about the pieces as well as mentioning the occasions on which the choir had previously sung them. All parts were accurate here, although the fine tenor section was a little too loud sometimes.

Next up was ‘Jubilate Deo’ by Praetorius. Sue Robinson taught the audience to sing this brief utterance as a 6-part round, and very successfully, too. The choir were distributed around the audience to assist. There’s an innovation other choirs could follow!

While the attacks in Tavener’s ‘Mother of God here I stand’ were excellent, some drop in intonation crept in again, and high notes were a bit shrill. These things are, of course, more obvious in a cappella items. Rheinberger’s ‘Abendlied’ followed, then an arrangement by Dorothy Buchanan of ‘Hine e hine’. It began with English words, with the chorus in Maori followed by a verse in Maori. I did not particularly like the elaborate piano accompaniment (though no reflection on the accompanist); the simple but effective melodies seemed compromised by the former.

The final song was ‘Hallelujah’ by Leonard Cohen, in an arrangement by Roger Emerson. Here again, the audience was invited to join in, in the chorus.

It was an ambitious programme, particularly with the number of a cappella items. The choir is fortunate to have many good singers, particularly in the male departments, where choirs are often deficient. The audience was treated to a sampler of very fine choral music, and the choir could feel confident in looking forward to another forty years of enjoyable music-making.

 

 

First-class performances of Vivaldi with guitar and viola d’amore from 8-piece Archi d’Amore Zelanda

Posted on by Rosemary Collier

‘Viva Vivaldi’

Concerto for viola d’amore in D
Concerto for guitar in D
Concerto for viola d’amore and guitar in D minor

Archi d’Amore Zelanda (Donald Maurice, viola d’amore; Jane Curry, guitar; Konstanze Artmann and Rupa Maitra, violins; Sophia Acheson, viola; Emma Goodbehere, cello; Paul Altomari, double bass, Kristin Zuelicke, harpsichord)

St. Andrew’s on The Terrace

Wednesday, 4 May 2016, 12.15pm

It is not often that so many people are in attendance at the lunchtime concert; St. Andrew’s was very well filled. Nor is it often that we have the same performer at successive concerts: Kristina Zuelicke was last week playing piano for Ingrid Culliford in a flute and piano concert, and this week playing harpsichord.

Donald Maurice gave a verbal introduction, but it was a pity he had not taken the microphone which Marjan van Waardenberg had just used to welcome people to the concert; I could not hear everything he was saying, and I sat relatively close to the front.

However, there was no doubt about hearing what he was playing; the mellifluous sound of his instrument was delightful. The opening allegro was cheerful and very incisive. The instrument is rare nowadays because other instruments have taken over what was its role – surely because with 7 strings (and sympathetic strings, like a sitar) it is tricky to play. Yet it has a very pleasant, mellow tone.

The largo second movement had the strings entering in order from highest to lowest before the soloist joined in. The movement had a wistful, even mournful melody. A delicate movement, it had the soloists accompanied by two violins only for much of the time. The following allegro was bright, rhythmic, and again provided much work for Donald Maurice. Unusually, it had a quiet ending.

The other two concerti were on the same pattern of allegro, largo, allegro. The second featured guitar, although originally written for solo lute; I am familiar with its gentle sound in that setting. For this work there was only one violinist in the accompanying strings. Jane Curry’s guitar sound came out well – but I realised at the beginning of the third item that it was amplified. (No amplification in Vivaldi’s day!) There was a good balance with the five other instruments. Dynamics were observed most tastefully.

The largo was given a very sensitive rendition – studied, languorous and unhurried. There was commendable cohesion between the performers; this was real concerto stuff. Thanks to the fine acoustics at St. Andrew’s and the splendid playing one could have sworn the music was being played by a larger ensemble – simply super.

The concerto with both solo instruments had required Donald Maurice to retune his instrument for the minor key. As expected, due to the minor key, the first movement was rather sombre, though in other respects comparable to the opening of the first concerto on the programme. There was plenty of conversation between the guitar and the viola d’amore. The unanimity of the ensemble was commendable, since they were playing without a conductor.

A lovely, serene largo was set for just two violins plus the soloists. The minor key gave a plaintive sound to the airs and harmonies. The entire ensemble joined in the third movement, which was somewhat sombre, but at the same time full of delight.

As an audience member said to me as we were leaving the church ‘First class’. The forthcoming tour to Poland by three of the ensemble’s members (Donald Maurice, Jane Curry and Emma Goodbehere) should be a great success.

 

A thousand years of church music in well chosen programme for voice and organ

Posted on by Rosemary Collier

‘Today the Lonely Winds’: Sacred music for organ and voice
(St. James’s Church and Wellington Organists Association)

Anonymous items; pieces by Frescobaldi, Monteverdi, St. Bernard of Claivaux, Jacob Regnart, Buxtehude, St Thomas Aquinas and Langlais

Heather Easting (organ), William McElwee (baritone)

St. James’s Church, Lower Hutt

Sunday, 24 April 2016, 3pm

The title puzzled me a little; it was a beautiful day without wind, and the winds of the organ pipes had plenty of company – there were over 70 people present.

It was a very well thought-out programme, revealing thought on how to present it, and which physical positions the baritone should take up. The choice of items obviously involved quite a bit of research. The climax of the recital was Jean Langlais’s organ suite Suite Médiévale en forme de messe basse. The five movements were each based on a piece of liturgical chant that was included in the rest of the programme.

The organ had been wheeled into a position in the centre of the sanctuary, side-on to the audience. This made it possible for the latter to see the organist’s hands and feet in action, and made for better communication between the two performers when they were both involved in items.

The opening antiphon, Asperges me from the 13th century, was intoned by William McElwee most tellingly, out of sight, from the west side of the sanctuary. It was followed by a Frescobaldi Toccata decima on the organ. The organ had a very bright sound, and the piece involved intricate rhythms and ornamentation; a most attractive work. Pedals were used for the final two notes only.

McElwee then sang from the back of the church, and moved slowly forward: Kyrie fons bonitatis, a 10th century piece, in Phrygian, or third, mode. Next was a solo motet by Monteverdi (the programme note said for solo tenor or soprano, but McElwee managed it pretty well): O quam pulchra es, accompanied by organ. The baritone managed the highly ornamented style of music readily. The accompaniment was written for a bass instrument, probably theorbo. Although this meant it was written for the bass end of the range, there was no pedal part.

McElwee followed this with a hymn attributed to St. Bernard of Clairvaux (12th century): Jesus dulcis memoria, sung unaccompanied as he walked around in the sanctuary, as if processing into church.

A major work on the organ was next: Frescobaldi’s Cento partite sopra passacaglia, from 1637. Whether there were one hundred variations I could not tell, but this quite lengthy work is in three sections. The first was charming, played on flutes. Later, other stops were added – diapasons? But no pedals. The third section was more ornate, and quite long.

Another antiphon: Ubi caritas et amor, the melody possibly from the fourth century was sung initially from a separate room to the right side of the sanctuary (with the door open), and then from the pulpit – very effective. New to me was the name Jacob Regnart (~1540-1599), whose Auf meinen lieben Gott was sung with organ. Wikipedia informs me that he was ‘a Flemish Renaissance composer [who] spent most of his career in Austria and Bohemia, where he wrote both sacred and secular music.’

Next up was one of the major organ composers, Dietrich Buxtehude (~1637-1707). His delightful Chorale Partita is a collection of four dance movements based on the same chorale melody utilised by Regnart. Heather Easting used a different registration for each movement, and the pieces were lively and attractive. Another hymn came from St Thomas Aquinas (1225-1274), Adoro te devote, sung mainly from the chancel steps.

Buxtehude appeared again, with a cantata Herr, Herr wenn ich nur Dich hab. Some of the vocal runs in this quite demanding work were not quite secure, but William McElwee’s tone was very pleasing. This was the first time we heard (and saw) the organist using the pedals.

After an eighth century hymn Christus vincit, a solemn chant used at the coronations of the Holy Roman Emperors sung from the chancel steps, the singer moved off to the west of the sanctuary. In this hymn, as elsewhere, his words were very clear.

Now came the major work in the recital, the Langlais Suite, Op.56 (1947). Skipping the nineteenth century (and most of the eighteenth), we were suddenly confronted with full organ, much pedal work, the use of all three manuals and the Swell pedal in the Prélude (Introit) to the Suite. Particularly telling was the use of the reeds on the upper manual. The second movement, Tiento (Offertory) had the melody played alternately on the pedals and on the Swell manual. Notable also was the use of the tremolo.

Improvisation (Elevation) was the third movement, featuring initially very soft music, but also frequent changes of registration. Méditation (Communion) followed. It had charming running motifs, then a medieval melody on the Great, with a 2-foot stop over the 8-foot. Again, there was considerable change of registration, and much variation, such as the melody being played on the pedals.

The final movement, Acclamations was certainly consistent with its title, being loud and resplendent. There were many brilliant episodes, grandiose themes, and harmonic clashes.

The variety of content, yet with a connected structure, made for a most interesting recital, as did the changes in periods and styles of music. It was not only a demonstration of singer and organist in good form, but also of the excellent organ at St. James’s Church. We had a marvellous conspectus of church music through more than 1,000 years in this well-designed programme.

 

Secondary Students’ Choir celebrates thirtieth anniversary: stylistic and period adaptability, sheer quality

Posted on by Rosemary Collier

New Zealand Secondary Students’ Choir in Concert directed by Andrew Withington, accompanied by Brent Stewart, with Rebecca Ryan (soprano)

Sacred Heart Cathedral

Friday, 22 April 2016, 7.30pm

As I said two years ago “I reviewed the choir almost exactly two years ago; now they are here for another school holiday course. My enthusiasm for their performance has not diminished, nor has the choir’s skill and versatility”. This year is the 30th anniversary of the choir’s formation, and those of its alumni attending the weekend celebrations helped to boost audience numbers so that the cathedral was almost full. The excellent acoustic for choral singing in this venue make the experience of hearing a choir of such high calibre an utterly pleasurable experience.

A full programme meant quite a long concert, including speeches at beginning and end, but the choir of 57 members did not flag; all items were performed in a thoroughly professional manner, despite the brief time that it had been together in Wellington. This speaks not only of expertise, but of disciplined work prior to the choir meeting together. Recognition of this expertise has come from Canada, where the choir will sing as Guest Choir at the 2016 International Choral Kathaumixw, where it has attended twice before as successful competitors. In addition, its Music Director, Andrew Withington, will be an adjudicator, and the choir will perform over 10 concerts, followed by a tour of centres on Vancouver Island. An emphasis will be on performing New Zealand music.

The concert began with the choristers stationed around the cathedral to sing Media Vita, a medieval Latin antiphon, arranged by modern Irish composer Michael McGlynn. A precentor intoned the words at first, from the front of the cathedral, then the men joined in; a drum gave an occasional beat, then the women joined in, as the choir processed to the front. This was a dramatic and effective way to start the performance. Singing without scores, the choir produced bold, confident singing. At the start, Andrew Withington conducted from the aisle, but after a while he ceased, and merely moved his head slightly to indicate cut-offs.

Items were announced initially by the choir’s vocal consultant Rachel Alexander, and later by members of the choir. This was perhaps unnecessary since everyone had a printed programme. However, it was a chance for the audience to hear from some of the young people.

Heinrich Schütz’s lovely Singet dem Herrn revealed a good sound from the choir and a wonderful range of dynamics. Although I could not see Brent Stewart from my seat, it seemed clear that in this item he was playing an electronic keyboard with a simulated harpsichord sound. The instrument carried considerable more resonance than a ‘live’ harpsichord would have. Many items in the programme were unaccompanied; for others he played the piano. The contrapuntal nature of this work did not seem to faze these choristers, and they produced the German language well. The bass tone was sometimes a little coarse.

The performance of Mendelssohn’s Jauchzet dem Herrn, alle Welt (Psalm 100), again in excellent German, brought out the harmony, suspensions and other features very well. Chris Artley, an Auckland composer, gave us the first of two settings of ‘O magnum mysterium’. It was a very effective piece of writing, with overtones of American choral music; hints of Lauridsen. There were delicious harmonies and progressions. New Zealand-born, US-resident David Childs’s setting of the same text was very exciting, and featured excellent pianissimo singing, in which the choir exhibited great control. It was full of agonised tones.

More familiar was the ‘Alleluia’ from Mozart’s Exsultate Jubilate, sung by choir alumna Rebecca Ryan. It was a pity to have piano accompaniment for this great piece (organ would have been preferable, since obviously there was no orchestra at hand). The soprano floated through the florid passages most competently, but occasionally there was a slightly metallic tone. When the choir joined with her in American composer Mark Templeton’s Pie Jesu her lower voice was used initially; here her tone was mellow and mellifluous. This piece also had some Lauridsen characteristics.

Loch Lomond was sung in an arrangement by David Lantz III (another American), with flute and cello, both played by choir members. After an instrumental introduction, the song was first sung in unison, and then in harmony. It was impressive that the choir adopted Scottish vowels for authenticity. The tenors’ sound was very fine in this piece, and the balance of the choir, as elsewhere, excellent.

Sarah Hopkins was the composer of an enterprising piece titled Past life melodies. Google led me to: “Past Life Melodies is currently the most performed Australian choral piece in the USA & has become a standard repertoire piece for many choirs around the world”. It started with the choir humming, followed by open-mouthed ‘ah-ah’ sounds with full tone, basses producing a continuous drone below, on single tones, with some of the choir singing a repetitive tune of nasal syllables ‘nya-nya’) against that background, demonstrating aboriginal influences in this a capella music. Most remarkable was the choir’s singing of harmonic overtones, giving the ethereal, ringing sound one hears in Tibetan throat singing. This was spine-tingling stuff!.

The choir changed formation to a semi-circle for the next work, Rotala by contemporary Latvian composer Juris Karlsons. It began with the choir making sounds like a train, whistle and all. Then the singers fell to talking to each other, getting louder all the time, and finished the piece with fortissimo singing.

After the interval, we were treated to some new Maori music, composed by the Puanaki whanau, domiciled near Christchurch. Ko te Tahitanga tenei and Pakipaki were performed with guitars and kapa-haka. Tihi Puanaki is an award-winning broadcaster on TV and radio as well as a composer. The performance was full of verve and variety; one would have sworn the whole team was Maori.

Another two New Zealand works followed: Altered Days by Richard Oswin, and ‘Whanau Marama’ by David Hamilton. The former was an arrangement of a New Zealand folksong, sung with appropriate accent, and the second an elaborate piece in both English and Maori, with electronic sounds. The first were like wind-chimes, later other sounds occurred. The fine soprano soloist was Michaela Cadwgan.

Lauridsen himself appeared, with ‘Sure on this shining night’, now quite a well-known, but always beautiful piece. Feller from Fortune followed; a traditional Canadian song arranged by prolific composer of last century, Harry Somers, then continuing in North America we heard It’s de-lovely by Cole Porter and I got rhythm by George and Ira Gershwin – the first from memory and the second using music scores. The Cole Porter was accompanied most effectively by piano, bass guitar and drums, the Gershwin by several instrumentalists from the choir, the latter adopting American accents; and again for I sing because I’m happy by American Rollo Dilworth, with similar accompaniment to that used in the Porter song.

Returning to this part of the world, we had Lota nu’u & Manuo le vaveao, a Samoan song arranged by Steven Rapana, one of the choir’s alumni. Choristers walked around clapping, after making lots of interesting sound effects at the beginning, including from drums and sticks, then changing to rich harmony. The presentation was very dramatic. Finally, alumni of the choir were invited to join in the final item, an arrangement of Hine, e hine arranged by Andrew Withington. It began with humming. The vocal arrangement was quite difficult, and at times it was not easy to discern the melody.

The Dilworth item was repeated as an encore, demanded by much applause. The unified sound of the choir, its adaptability to singing in very different styles and eras of music, and its sheer quality, all point to a successful overseas trip.

It would have been helpful to have at least a few programme notes, and to have the dates of the composers given in the printed programme.

New Zealand String Quartet, minus 2nd violin, avoids any string quartets in different combinations with pianist Jian Liu

Posted on by Rosemary Collier

New Zealand String Quartet (Helene Pohl, violin; Gillian Ansell, viola; Rolf Gjelsten, cello) with Jian Liu (piano)

Schubert: String trio in B flat, D.471
Beethoven: Cello sonata no.4 in C, Op.102/1
Fauré: Piano quartet no.1 in C minor, Op.15

Hunter Council Chamber, Victoria University of Wellington

Wednesday, 20 April 2016, 7.30pm

This time, there was a different disposition of the quartet and the audience in the room; the players had their backs to one of the sections of raised seating and the audience sat either in the other section or at floor level, the latter with their backs to the raised seating, rather than being between the two upper levels.  The musicians usually have their backs to the large memorial window in the Council Chamber.  Initially, I thought this arrangement made for a little more echo in the sound, but this impression soon wore off.

After a spoken introduction from Gillian Ansell, Schubert presented us with a most mellifluous opening, full of rising cadences.  The trio, written when the composer was 19, was never completed, and consists of an allegro movement, plus fragments of an andante – the latter were not played.  The allegro is playful, and proved to be a splendid vehicle for demonstrating the unanimity of the players, who for their next concert in Wellington will return to being a complete quartet, with the commencement of their new second violinist.

I believe the players’ practice of standing to perform (with the cellist on a low platform, bringing him to a height equivalent to that of the standing players) projects the music better to the audience, especially in a room like the Council Chamber, which has a carpeted floor.

Soon, the warm sounds of the viola struck me, and the not-so-deep but gutsy, supporting tone of the cello.  Above was the light, airy and tuneful violin.  This was a beautiful, lyrical short trio.

Beethoven’s cello sonata was quite experimental, Rolf Gjelsten said in his introduction.  It was a late work by the composer, and not easy for his contemporaries to comprehend, but one later said that Beethoven was preparing his listeners for the great works to come.

Wikipedia says: “This short, almost enigmatic work demonstrates in concentrated form how Beethoven was becoming ready to challenge and even subvert the sonata structures he inherited from composers such as Haydn and Mozart.”  It consists of two movements, but with much variety within them: 1. Andante – Allegro vivace; 2. Adagio – Tempo d’andante – Allegro vivace.

Its opening was mellow and benign, with the piano echoing the cello’s phrases, as well having gorgeous ripples of its own.  Then came the more excited allegro vivace, and the swift, quixotic moves from soft to loud and apparently sudden changes of direction.  A certain amount of nasal accompaniment from the cellist was distracting at times, given the closeness of the instrumentalists to the audience.  A movement that was lively overall was followed by the calm, slow commencement of the second.  Here, the piano initially had more of the interesting material, but the cello soon took over, and in no time the conversation was going back and forth. The music became more excited and complex in the interchange between the instruments.

A short section with sforzandi at the ends of phrases underlined what Rolf Gjelsten had said about the work being experimental.  There were great flourishes from both instruments at the end.

The other musicians returned for Fauré’s piano quartet; they were seated, to be on the same level as the pianist.  Helene Pohl introduced the piece, and described the music as swirling, and noted that two of the movements were unusually in three beats in the bar.  She said that the work demanding virtuoso playing, especially from the piano; we had this amply demonstrated in the sensitivity and beauty of Jian Liu’s playing. The sound seemed to me to be more mellow when all players were sitting, but in this space it is not swallowed up, because of the high, wooden ceiling.

A grand but very satisfying beginning to the work led to impassioned expression, and motifs passed around from instrument to instrument.  There was, as we have come to expect over many years, highly skilled playing from all four musicians.

This urbane, sophisticated yet passionate work was engaging, enlightening and life-enhancing.  It is full of delicacy but also strength.  The first movement ended in a glowing calm.  The second movement’s pizzicato opening was echoed in the sprightly piano part, where there were also lots of running passages.  Mutes were then employed; Jian Liu produced a similarly muted tone on the piano. A kind of perpetuum mobile followed, with constant activity from all instruments.

The funereal music of the third movement was sombre and slow, with interesting harmonies and clashes.  There were emotional peaks and troughs, and cascades from the piano, while the strings returned to the sombre.

The final movement was quick, even skittish on all instruments.  A momentum built up which seemed unstoppable, but there was a sequence of solo phrases from each instruments, leading to renewed excitement for all.  A section of resigned hopefulness reminded me of passages in Schumann’s piano quintet.

Virtuosity was certainly required, and supplied, by all the players here, but especially the pianist.  What a master Fauré was!  And so are these players, demonstrated by their playing the second movement again as an encore.

 

Full house for Edo de Waart and the NZSO in magnificent Eroica and an epic Double Concerto by Brahms

Posted on by Rosemary Collier

New Zealand Symphony Orchestra
Edo de Waart’s Masterworks: Brahms & Beethoven

Lilburn: Festival Overture
Brahms: Concerto for violin and cello in A minor, Op.102 (Double Concerto)
Beethoven: Symphony no.3 in E flat, Op.55 (‘Eroica’)

New Zealand Symphony Orchestra, Edo de Waart (conductor), Nicola Benedetti (violin) and Leonard Elschenbroich (cello)

Michael Fowler Centre

Saturday, 16 April 2016, 7.30pm

In a review of the NZSO just over a year ago, I said “You can’t beat Beethoven on a good day – and this was a very good day”. That was one hundred percent true of this concert, with new Music Director Edo de Waart. I thought it was brilliant planning to get an audience in to hear a programme that was at least in part familiar. They would then be so delighted with what they heard that they would want to hear de Waart’s other programmes through the year (he returns in August and October). It was gratifying to see the Michael Fowler Centre completely sold out.

Lilburn’s overture is one of his most appealing orchestral compositions. After a splendid attack, a cello theme introduces an exchange of ideas, with delightful interplay between sections of the large orchestra, though in themselves the various themes are quite spare. Already in this early work (1939, while he was still a student in London), Lilburn’s characteristic dotted rhythm motif appears. The piece is bombastic and contemplative by turns, the big brass line-up contributing to the former characteristic. It was a good opener for a concert of grand music.

Violinist Nicola Benedetti is on her second visit to New Zealand; it is a first for her partner, Leonard Elschenbroich. The violinist wore a bright red-orange fitting dress; the cellist did not wear a tail-coat, but a simple jacket. Neither was de Waart in tails – is it time the NZSO itself phased out this anachronistic dress?

The Brahms required a slightly smaller orchestra: there were no trombones, and some sections were down-sized; the cellos were brought forward nearer to the centre of the stage, with violas behind them.

The work opened in typical Brahms style with a brief tutti, then immediately the cellist gave passionate utterance in a solo passage. What marvellous tone he produced! Then the woodwind gave us a lovely pastoral section before the violin entry.

Playing from music scores, the soloists were in absolute unanimity. It was very lyrical playing from Benedetti, but from my seat, her sound was not particularly strong. As a colleague pointed out, we do get used to hearing recorded music, where the technician or producer can twiddle the knobs to bring the solos out more. Later, the violin sound penetrated more, when the orchestra was not so full or loud.

Elschenbroich produced subtly gorgeous nuances. Of course, the cello is in touch with the floor of the platform, and so can gain more resonance than the violin is able to. His playing reminded me of a singer who reported that his teacher said “Do something with every note.” I could not help thinking that it would be great to hear this work in the acoustic of the Wellington Town Hall – bring it on! All the elements made up to an epic first movement. The horns were very important, and their parts were beautifully played.

The slow movement featured a warm string melody with many mellow asides for winds, and an exquisite ending for soloists and orchestra alike. The third movement began bouncily for the soloists, cello first. Elschenbroich was the more flamboyant of the two performers (some would say this is a characteristic of the players of that instrument), but not to an excessive degree. There was precision and attention to detail from both – and indeed from the orchestra also. The work demonstrated the power and the pathos of Brahms. Technique was always subservient to the music as art for these two outstanding soloists.

The large audience was very attentive, and besides lengthy, enthusiastic applause from the audience to the soloists there was applause also from orchestra members. A nice feature was that the two soloists played in the orchestra for the Beethoven symphony that followed the interval.

The Eroica symphony is familiar, but like all great works of art, one can always find new insights, new elements, in every good performance. And this was a very good performance indeed. The orchestra was reduced again from that used for the Brahms work, and the playing, particularly in the first movement, was more detached and precise than is often heard in Beethoven. The delicate passages were delicious. Despite the symphony being so well-known, the playing had a spontaneous feel, brisk and energetic.

The sombre theme of the funeral march of the second movement was a contrast after the cheerful first movement. Its piquancy was brought out in the minor key version of the initial theme. Oboe and bassoon underlined the mood. How astonishing this symphony, the longest so far written, must have sounded to audiences accustomed to Haydn, Mozart and their contemporaries! The theme passed magisterially from section to section of the orchestra. Basses had a wonderful statement all their own.

The scherzo third movement was exciting; how amazing it is that one who was already considerably affected by deafness (in 1803, the year of the Eroica’s composition) could write such music, with all its subtleties and variety. The tricky horn calls in this movement came off perfectly.

The finale is notable for the extensive use of syncopation. These passages and the clarion call responses are such unexpected features of a classical symphony. If we were not so familiar with it, we might find these quite comical. They are certainly warm-hearted and entertaining, as are the dance-like passages that follow. But Beethoven never lets us wallow for long. Soon, more aggressive themes interrupt, and the dance passages change their modality to the minor. The development of the themes is quite astonishing. More off-beat music from oboe followed, the orchestra taking up the theme in a heavy, almost parody fashion. After lots of magic of all kinds, the triumphant conclusion arrived, again syncopated.

Edo de Waart and the orchestra gave us a magnificent rendition of this ground-breaking symphony. Not only did the audience afford the conductor prolonged and enthusiastic applause, orchestra members did the same.

 

 

 

 

Aroha Quartet revisits Waikanae Music Society with polished, well-balanced programme

Posted on by Rosemary Collier

Waikanae Music Society

Aroha String Quartet (Haihong Liu and Simeon Broom, violins; Zhongxian Jin, viola; Robert Ibell, cello)

Haydn: String Quartet in G, Op.33 no.5
Piazzolla: Tango ballet suite
Anthony Ritchie: Whakatipua
Mendelssohn: String Quartet no.6 in F minor, Op.80

Waikanae Memorial Hall

Sunday, 10 April 2016, 2.30pm

It is always a pleasure to hear the Aroha String Quartet and their varied programmes.

The Haydn quartet had a rather sotto voce commencement; the movement was described in the programme notes as a greeting, such as ‘how do you do’. All of Haydn’s jollity and wit were present.

The second movement was enchanting, with a chirpy ending that brought chuckles from the audience. The scherzo was full of changes and interruptions, while its trio was a graceful contrast, with an abrupt ending. The final movement featured a dotted rhythm, and appeared to be a slow dance with variations. It provided a good precursor to the dances to follow.

The sections of Piazzolla’s composition had movement titles, but it was not always apparent where one ended and another began. In a radio interview, Robert Ibell said that he was not aware of the work having been played in New Zealand before; they had difficulty because the supplier of the scores sent only a full score. The parts arrived only days before the performance. So in the meantime they had to cut, copy and paste the full score to create their individual scores.

Contrasting vigorous and dreamlike passages were features of Titulos (Introduction) and elsewhere. Throughout, there was a great variety of writing and of instrumental sounds, all having plenty of individual input. The other sections were: La calle (The Street), Encuentro/Olvido (Encounter/Forgetfulness), Cabaret, Soledad (Solitude), and La calle, again.

There were some great sounds from the viola. A review of a CD of the work found through Google states: ‘The work alternates between vibrant and forceful passages that recall ‘The Rite of Spring’ by Stravinsky and a passionate melancholy for the slower movements. … the “Cabaret” movement … comes closest to mirroring pure tango music.’ The work exemplified the composer’s fusion of tango music with that of the Western classical tradition. One could find echoes of Haydn here, although the music was written only 60 years ago.

Balmy passages quickly gave way to more turbulent ones. As noted by the website, some movements are more dance-like than others. It was remarked to me in the interval that the Aroha Quartet was a little too restrained for this music; bandoneóns would have been more spirited, abandoned and rambunctious.

Anthony Ritchie’s work opened with the most gorgeous sounds, followed by a lilting, dance-like section. Each instrument was distinctive in its part, but when blend was required, it was there. Some parts were modal in tonality, with hints of Douglas Lilburn’s music present.

Mendelssohn’s final string quartet has a spooky opening, the remainder of that movement alternating ‘between rage and lamentation’ as the programme note said, the whole quartet being influenced by his sorrow at the recent sudden death of his sister, Fanny. The melodic invention for which Mendelssohn is noted was ever-present, even lushness of expression, but also a new anger, anguish and tension brought out particularly in the second movement. Quiet passages served to point up this tension.

The adagio recalled some of Mendelssohn’s other slow movements, but its intensity was much greater. I detected Schumann-like elements. The first violinist in particular judged skilfully the rendering of the subtle nuances of this movement, but all played stunningly well. At times there were the most delicate touches; the movement had a peaceful end. Not so the finale last movement. There were solemn, even bitter chords, but also moments of calm contemplation, that soon changed to rapid declamation – perhaps even rejection – with an almost furious ending.

 

It was a most enjoyable concert, with a variety of interesting and approachable music, beautifully played.

Superb song tribute for the 400th anniversary of Shakespeare’s death, from the resourceful Nota Bene

Posted on by Rosemary Collier

“The Cloud Capp’d Towers”: Shakespeare in the Land of the Long White Cloud

Nota Bene, directed by Peter Walls, with Nigel Collins (the Bard), Fiona McCabe (piano) and Joel Baldwin (guitar); vocal soloists from the choir

Salvation Army Citadel

Saturday, 9 April 2016, 7.30pm

Despite the title of the concert, the song referenced appeared in the printed programme as ‘The Cloud-clapped Towers’. Some of those in Christchurch certainly were, although the tall buildings on the cover of the programme represented Auckland and Wellington.

Joking aside, the programme presented was a marvellous conception by Peter Walls and Jacqueline Coats. Peter Walls has taken over as Nota Bene’s new musical director; he’s a busy man, having just at Easter directed the Tudor Consort in their Good Friday presentation, and travelling frequently to Hamilton to conduct the Opus Orchestra.

As a commemoration of 2016 being the 400th year since Shakespeare’s death, this was a superb tribute; the fanciful idea of Shakespeare dreaming of ‘Terra Australis incognita’ (including New Zealand) was perhaps a little too contrived, and unnecessary. New Zealand composers included in the programme needed no special pleading for their presence.

The many wonderful settings of Shakespeare’s inspiring words, plus dramatic speeches from some of the plays, made a satisfying and rewarding evening of words and music, in the acoustically alive Salvation Army Citadel. The disadvantage of this feature was that it picked up every sound and error.

Vaughan Williams’s marvellous Three Shakespeare Songs were interspersed through the programme: one at the beginning, one later on, and one at the end. The first, ‘Full fathom five’ from The Tempest, was sung from the gallery. There the men sounded rather sepulchral; the tone needed to be produced further forward and they needed the spontaneity of the women’s. The sound changed when the choir came downstairs to sing on the platform, where the men had their backs to the wall. The first speech was from the same play. Nigel Collins was costumed, and sat at first at a desk, complete with quill pen and inkwell; later he stood in various parts of the auditorium to deliver his lines, which he did with expression and understanding, revealing his skill in the actor’s art.

We moved to Othello, and the famous Elizabethan setting of ‘The Willow Song’, sung by Juliet Kennedy with Joel Baldwin accompanying on guitar. It was a pity not to have the originally-advertised Stephen Pickett playing ‘Renaissance lute, theorbo and guitar’, for greater verisimilitude. Juliet Kennedy sang the song attractively, but it was a little strange to have printed ‘Her hand on her bosom, her head on her knee’ when the original is ‘his’, and that is what was sung. More words were printed than were actually sung.

Three Shakespeare Choruses by American composer Amy Beach (1867-1944) set words familiar from other composers’ settings. They were for women only and were inventive and very pleasing, involving complex interweaving parts. The third, ‘Through the house give glimmering light’ (A Midsummer Night’s Dream) featured lovely lilting rhythms. This time, more words were sung than were printed. It was good to have almost all the words printed in the programme, but Nota Bene could note well the recent Tudor Consort concert, for which the printed programme had been arranged so that it was unnecessary to turn the pages during the items, thus avoiding noisy rattling.

A speech from A Midsummer Night’s Dream was followed by the choir descending to sing from the platform; firstly three choruses from Purcell’s The Fairy Queen, a semi-opera derived from the afore-mentioned play, the first with soprano soloist Inese Berzina, and all accompanied by Fiona McCabe, stepping out from the choir to play the piano. Unfortunately, the piano was too loud for the soloist, though the choir’s singing was good. The second featured bass soloist John Chote.   His tone was sometimes on the raw side, and he was unable to produce effective tone from the low notes. The choral parts were very fine, and Purcell’s music bloomed beautifully.

The next, unaccompanied, section began with the second of Vaughan Williams’s songs: ‘Over hill, over dale’. It suffered from a poor start, the singers not being together, and appearing unconfident. After a bit, all was well. Following another stirring excerpt, this time from Henry IV, part II, music not setting Shakespeare’s words, but written by musicians who were the bard’s contemporaries, were performed: ‘Lord, make thy servant Elizabeth’, by Byrd and ‘What is our life’ by Gibbons. The former was an intricate piece, sung well, though the bass part was at times too dominant. In the latter, a small group was made up of good voices, but they did not always blend well. When they did, a fine sound was produced.

The men then disappeared, and after a splendid Caliban from Nigel Collins, the women sang Five Shakespeare Songs by David Farquhar. These characterful songs illustrated the bard’s words well, with music that evoked the moods. They were not easy, and very different in nature from the remainder of the concert. The final one, ‘Clown’s Song’ (“When that I was and a little tiny boy”) struck me as difficult to bring off unaccompanied, but it worked.

Following the interval, David Hamilton’s A Shakespeare Garland, set seven of Shakespeare’s texts on “botanical and/or seasonal” themes, six of them well-known. The composer’s 1999 composition set the words ‘in a variety of parody styles ranging from jazz to car-chase music.’ They differed markedly from their more familiar settings, especially ‘Hark, hark, the lark’ (Cymbeline) if compared with Schubert’s setting of the German translation. These songs were accompanied by guitar and piano, but I seldom heard the former due to the latter, despite sitting on the guitar’s side of the audience, and observing that the guitarist had a microphone and thus was being amplified.

‘It was a lover and his lass’ was sprightly, good fun. ‘Come buy of me’ (The Winter’s Tale) demonstrated Hamilton’s mastery of choral writing; a gorgeous song. The choir produced lovely resonance on the ‘m’ consonants. After a high-speed ‘Hark, hark, the lark’ came the much-loved Sonnet 18: ‘Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day’, sung by women only, with guitar; this was a delight. ‘I know a bank whereon the wild thyme blows’ (A Midsummer Night’s Dream) was another delight, redolent with images from the bard’s wonderful words, most of which here and elsewhere could be heard clearly. This and the remaining two songs were accompanied.

‘When daisies pied’ (Love’s Labours Lost) was particularly jazzy, lively and fun – nothing like the well-known setting, which seems like a stroll in the park in comparison. The last song in the cycle, ‘Under the greenwood tree’ (As You Like It) was not the expected gentle pastoral setting. Again, I could not hear the guitar. Perhaps the men were tiring from so much standing; their tone was rather raw when singing loudly. They had their reprieve; after another oration from Nigel Collins (Lorenzo, The Merchant of Venice), the choir got to sit while two soloists gave us Shakespearean songs of quite different characters: Stephanie Gartrell (alto) sang with piano ‘Falling in love with love’ (Rogers and Hart’s 1938 The Boys from Syracuse) that again had only some of the words printed, but it was most effective, sung with clear diction.

Jeltsje Keizer sang with guitar ‘Take, O take those lips away’ (when will programme compilers realise the difference between the ‘O’ of invocation and the ‘oh’ of mild exclamation? I admit I have not consulted the First Folio! [I have, however, as proud owner of a facsimile edition; the learned Heminge – or Heming, Hemminge, or Hemmings – and Condell, the compilers and publishers of the First Folio, knew their ‘O’s from their ‘Oh’s, and it appears there as ‘Oh’ L.T.]). The programme gives it as ‘Anon.’, but both my Alfred Deller recording and Grove cite the composer John Wilson for this song from Measure for Measure. After a very moving speech by Lear on the death of Cordelia (King Lear), the choir sang ‘When David heard that Absalon was slain’ by Thomas Tomkins, continuing the theme of loss of a child. Some awkward harmonic clashes were negotiated with ease; this was complex contrapuntal writing, but sung exquisitely.

One of Prospero’s stirring speeches from Act V of The Tempest followed, and then a Latin motet by Byrd ‘O magnum misterium’ (usually spelt ‘mysterium’) made a glorious sound, though the basses again were a little too dominant at times. Nevertheless, it was a very fine performance. Douglas Lilburn’s setting of ‘The Willow Song’ followed, sung by Juliet Kennedy, accompanied on the piano. This song has received sundry arrangements; I have heard it on radio not infrequently, played on guitar. It was good to hear it with the words.

After a final oration from Prospero, we came to the wonderful song that named the concert. Although the choir was not quite together at the opening, the blend improved. This is surely one of the most gorgeous choral songs in the English language. The words are integral to the sound; obviously Vaughan Williams was much inspired by Shakespeare. It made an uplifting end to an evening’s entertainment of excellent quality.