Opera Boutique with a boisterous Pergolesi double bill

Pergolesi: Livietta e Tracollo and La Serva Padrona

Boutique Opera, Directed by Alison Hodge, with Musical Director, piano accordion and keyboard, Jonathan Berkahn.  Performers: Barbara Graham, Roger Wilson, Charles Wilson, Stacey O’Brien, Alix Schultze and Salina Fisher (violins)

St. Andrew’s on The Terrace

Saturday 28 February 2015, 7.30pm

Boutique Opera has not performed for a number of years; it was pleasing to see them back, with light-hearted material as last time – though Edward German’s Tom Jones was very different from the current offering.

Giovanni Pergolesi had a short life: 1710-36.  He wrote a number of operas, some more successful than others.  Both the works performed in this programme were written as Intermezzi, the light-hearted works performed as interludes in more serious operas by the same composer. Obviously the opera-goers in Italy at this period had the appetite for quite a long evening out, since each of the Intermezzi was approximately three-quarters of an hour long.

The first of the two has an alternative title, La contadina astuta, and was an intermezzo for Pergolesi’s opera Adriano in Siria.  The piece was new to me, whereas I have heard the second offering before, and it is relatively well known.

Jonathan Berkahn played the piano accordion for the overture and throughout Livietta e Tracollo as the ‘orchestra’.  It seemed an odd choice of instrument, and it is not one of which I am a fan, but one had to admire his multiple skills.

The operas were sung in English.  Barbara Graham (soprano) took the female lead roles in both, and she was in fine voice.  Her foil in the first was Charles Wilson, who began as Tracollo in disguise as a woman.  His father, Roger Wilson, and Stacey O’Brien both had non-singing roles – but they contributed substantially to the drama, especially the latter, as Fulvia, a friend of Livietta.  Roger Wilson was designated as a servant to Tracollo, but his old crone did not appear capable of much activity!

I found that I had written about Charles Wilson in Tom Jones (2011), the following, which with adaptation of the character’s name, fitted exactly this time around too: ‘Charles Wilson made the most of his role as Tracollo, his acting exactly fitting for a farce, and raising many a smile.  Vocally, too, he was more than adequate, characterising his voice appropriately.’  However, he did have difficulty in that numbers of notes were set too low for his voice.  But his presentation of his role in the drama was realised with great feeling, appropriately overplaying the melodrama of the story of Livietta’s and Tracollo’s tortured relationship.  All ends well, however.

The disguise of Livietta as a French boy was very apt for Barbara Graham, who has won awards for French song; she got an opportunity to exercise that language.  Just as Charles is the son of a very experienced singer and singing teacher, so Barbara is the daughter of Lesley Graham, similarly qualified.  She sang and acted with great assurance; her voice was a delight to hear.

It was a pleasure to hear the two violins and pseudo-harpsichord accompanying the second opera, which was a much livelier work than the previous one – though that, too, had its moments.  Nevertheless, it must be said that Jonathan Berkahn performed wonders of tone and dynamics in the first opera.

A remarkable feature was the clarity of Roger Wilson’s words in La Serva Padrona, which had not always been the case with the characters in the previous piece.  His singing was strong and the voice was produced with full tone and great expressiveness; his acting, too, was convincing and full of amusing detail.

Director Alison Hodge can be pleased with her efforts in both works. There was plenty of amusing stage business in both operas. Costumes for Livietta e Tracollo would pass as eighteenth century, whereas those for La Serva Padrona were 1930s-1940s.

Simple props were adequate and appropriate.

Barbara Graham made a luscious maid on the make.  Hers was quite a demanding role. Her acting was lively and funny, while her singing in the many florid passages was lovely.  Her demeanour was perfect for the part of the devious servant.

Pergolesi’s music was full of energy and wit, and provided a fine vehicle for Graham’s talents as an actor as well as a singer. Instrumental parts underlined the solos deliciously, especially in Roger Wilson’s (Umberto’s) soliloquy in which he contemplates whether or not to marry his maid Serpina (her aim all along).  His low notes were meaty and meaningful.  The mock serious music was fully realised by the soloists, and Pergolesi must have had fun writing the charming final scene between master and maid.

The bright and humorous music and story, and the quality of the singing and acting created a most entertaining evening for the rather small audience – no doubt the entertainment coinciding with the NZSO and Freddy Kempf at the Michael Fowler Centre deprived Boutique Opera of potential audience members.

The season continues on Sunday 1 March at St. Andrew’s on The Terrace at 2pm, on Sunday 8 March at Expressions in Upper Hutt at 2pm, and on Sunday, 22 March at 2pm at Te Manawa Gallery Palmerston North.

 

St Andrew’s lunchtime concerts resume for 2015 with a piano quintet

Xing Wang and friends

Schubert: Sonata for piano and violin in A, D.574, “Grand Duo”
Schumann: Piano Quintet in E flat, Op. 44

Xing Wang (piano), Xin (James) Jin and Haihong Liu (violins), Zhongxian Jin (viola), Robert Ibell (cello)

St Andrew’s on The Terrace

Wednesday, 11 February 2015, 12.15pm

An attractive programme brought a good-sized audience to the first St. Andrew’s lunchtime concert for 2015.  Many people are grateful to the church and to Marjan van Waardenberg, for providing so many
marvellous concerts.

Unfortunately, another engagement meant that I was able to hear only the Schubert in its entirety.  The opening allegro moderato of the sonata featured very lively, bright playing, as did the scherzo: presto that followed.  The andantino slow movement displayed gorgeous tone from the violin, while the allegro vivace finale was executed with brilliance by both performers.

It was pleasing to have very full programme notes for the two works.  As the programme note for the Schubert stated, the sonata exhibited ‘…rich and beautiful melodic inventions, subtle harmonic colourings, and Viennese dance elements.’  There was much hard work for Xin Jin to do in this work, but all was carried off with accuracy and sureness of intonation and expression.

The Schumann piano quintet promised much from the robust, joyful opening of the allegro brillante first movement that I heard. Later I was told that it continued in the same warmly expressive vein, and that the cello playing of Robert Ibell was particularly noteworthy.

The concerts now continue on Wednesday lunchtimes without a break; much interesting music is promised over successive weeks.  Look up St. Andrew’s website, www.standrews.org.nz, and go to the ‘Coming Events’ listings.

 

Great New Zealand tenor Keith Lewis in rare recital

Fundraiser for The New Zealand Singing School (Hawke’s Bay)

Songs by Scarlatti, Caccini, Durante, Haydn, Beethoven, Schubert, Bellini, Bizet, Tchaikovsky, Guridi and Piazzola, aria by Cilea and aria and duet by Puccini

Keith Lewis (tenor) with Susan Melville (piano) and Tania Dreaver (soprano)

St. Andrew’s on The Terrace

Tuesday, 10 February 2015, 7.30pm

Keith Lewis presented the audience with an evening of great artistry, ably accompanied by Susan Melville, a Hawke’s Bay musician.  Current doyen of New Zealand tenors, he is little heard, or even known, in his own country.  He gave lovers of the singing voice much to enjoy.  The word ‘mellifluous’ was invented for voices like Keith Lewis’s.

Right from the outset, in Scarlatti’s appealing song Le Violette, Lewis impressed with his enunciation of the words (in six different languages through the course of the recital) and his supreme control and beautiful tone on soft, high notes.

Although the church was fairly well filled, it is a pity that there were not more people present to hear this marvelous singer.  A side benefit of more audience would have been to absorb some of the resonance, which for me was a little too much at times.  Not that Lewis sang too loudly, but the acoustic of the church enhances the sound of the singing voice.

In Amarilli by Caccini (1546 – 1718) Lewis told the story of the love song beautifully, with top notes ‘to die for’, exquisitely projected in the softest of pianissimi. Francesco Durante (1684 – 1755) wrote Danza, danza fanciulla.  It was sung energetically, but tone never suffered.

Switching from Italian to German-Austrian repertoire, Keith Lewis began by singing in English.  The words of Shakespeare from Twelfth Night ‘She never told her love’ were delightfully set by Haydn.  Like so much of Shakespeare, the words ‘like patience on a monument’ have become a frequently used expression.  Here, every word was sung expressively and with meaning.

Beethoven followed, with the wonderful, varied song Adelaide (not with the Australian pronunciation).  The romantic poem was by Friedrich von Matthisson.  Another love song was the well-known Im
Frühling
(In Spring) by Schubert.  The gorgeous, lilting piano part added immeasurably to the effect of the song.  The sentiments were beautifully conveyed.

With a return to the Italian language, we heard three Canzone from Sei Ariette by Bellini.  After a robust, spirited opener Malinconia, ninfa gentile, Vanne, o rosa fortunata had the singer varying voice and words enchantingly.  The soft tones were more supremely lovely than I have heard from other tenors.  Following the third song, Ma rendi pur contento we turned to French songs by Bizet, which the singer told us he felt particularly close to; they were ‘like little jewels’.  La chanson du fou (Song of the clown) employed  considerable vocal range that was readily encompassed by Lewis.  The language was projected with model enunciation. The song had much character in both the vocal and piano parts.

The second Bizet song, Ouvre ton coeur (Open your heart), was in the style of a Spanish serenade; Bizet’s fame rests largely on the opera Carmen, set in Spain and employing much Spanish idiom.  This song, too, was full of character.

After the interval, we moved to Russia, with Lensky’s aria from Eugene Onegin.  Susan Melville did her best to be an orchestra, and in the main she succeeded.  Lewis gave us much feeling and expression of Lensky’s thoughts and the drama of his situation, facing a duel with his old friend.

Still with opera, we then had two arias from soprano Tania Dreaver, a participant in last year’s New Zealand Singing School.  She sang, from memory, an aria from Cilea’s Adriana Lecouvreur, then
Mimi’s aria from La Bohème (‘They call me Mimi’), which was succeeded immediately by her singing the following duet with Rodolfo (Keith Lewis).  While Dreaver’s vocal technique seemed good on the whole, some of her top notes were slightly metallic and strained, and there were occasional lapses of pitch.  She has plenty of power to deliver the notes and words, but needed more variation of timbre and volume, in what is admittedly a difficult aria.  The duet was sung by a meltingly gorgeous Rodolfo, but again, Dreaver seemed to be straining and forcing at the top, and again there was variation of pitch.  Susan Melville’s accompanying in the Puccini items was particularly fine.

The Spanish song, no.4 of Canciones Castellanas by Jesús Guridi (1886-1961), demonstrated Lewis’s marvellous projection, and also what I was once told: “Do something with every note”.

Another Spanish song followed, by Astor Piazzolla (1921-1992): Milonga Carrieguera, from  an operetta of his.  The emotions of the song came over clearly, and there was much lilting light and shade.  The bitter-sweet mood was perfectly conveyed.  Lewis’s amazing breath control was particularly apparent in this song.

As an encore, Lewis sang an arrangement by Susan Melville of Pokarekare ana, in which birdcalls featured.  It was certainly a different, and attractive, arrangement.

A few criticisms of the printed programme: a few composers’ names were misspelt, and none of their dates were given; it is always helpful in placing lesser-known composers in historical context.  Also, I always appreciate being given the names of the poets whose words the composers set.  After all, songs are a marriage of poetry and music.  The one inspires the other, so it is good to know who has written the former as well as who has composed the latter.

The recital tour continues in Nelson (16 February), Christchurch (22 February), Hastings (27 February) and Auckland (3 March).

 

Unorthodox organist Christopher Hainsworth with brilliant late trumpeter Nicolas Planchon

Chris Hainsworth, organ, Julien Hainsworth, cello (1) Nicolas Planchon, trumpet (2)
Two recitals, the first supported by the Maxwell Fernie Trust

Charpentier: Te Deum (1&2);
Torelli: Concerto in D (2);
Handel: Uncelebrated Largo (1);
Albinoni: Other Adagio (1);
Purcell: Not Famous Trumpet Voluntary (1);
Fauré: Pavane (1);
Anderson, George: The Battle of Waterloo, 1815 (1);
Verdi/Arban: Fantasy on La Traviata (2);
Takle, Mons: Power of Life (1)
Cool Selection: ‘In umbral colours’ (including theme from Lord of the Rings, Monti’s Czardas; 1); Tribute to Wellington Weather (‘Summer Time’ from Gershwin’s Porgy and Bess; 2)
Other items introduced to the programme are mentioned in the text below.

Sacred Heart Cathedral

Sunday, 8 February 2015 (1), 3pm, Monday 9 February, 1pm (2)

A concert of two halves, the result of trumpeter Nicolas Planchon being held up, courtesy of airlines, in Dubai.  The outcome for the sizeable audience on Sunday afternoon was a recital that included the organist’s cellist son playing a borrowed cello and downloaded music.  A free concert was announced for the following lunchtime, by which hour the absent trumpeter would have arrived.  Inevitably, not so many people could avail themselves of this opportunity, which was a pity.

The Sunday recital supported the  Maxwell Fernie Trust, which assists young organists.

It began with Charpentier’s Te Deum, the only piece to be played on both days.  If we couldn’t have a real trumpet on Sunday, we nevertheless could have the trumpet stop on the organ, which sounded very fine, and the playing produced lovely contrasts.  Some of the tuning of the reed pipes was a little bit out; perhaps due to the humid afternoon.

Jean-Baptiste Barrière (1707 – 1747) was a French cellist and composer.  In place of the prescribed trumpet concerto, on Sunday we had a Larghetto for organ and cello by the French composer.  A solemn piece, it was beautifully executed.  The gallery was surprisingly resonant for the stringed instrument; Julien Hainsworth made a delightful sound.  The accompaniment was a very simple affair.

After a spoken introduction, Chris Hainsworth played a Handel Largo from one of the organ concertos; he labeled it the “Uncelebrated Largo”, with his usual ironic sense of humour.  The Fagotto pipes seemed to have some extraneous vibrations going on, alongside the low notes.  Though uncelebrated, the piece eminently justified its place in the programme.

The “Other Adagio” followed, this time in fact by Albinoni, and not a doctored later construction as was the famous one.  It proved to be a charming and appealing piece of baroque music.   Purcell’s “Not famous Trumpet Voluntary” was a lively addition to the programme, that gave the trumpet stop a good roll.

Staying with the baroque, Julien Hainsworth played the well-known Prelude to J.S. Bach’s first cello suite, demonstrating lovely tone.

For something completely different, we had, for the bicentenary of the Battle of Waterloo, the piece of that name.  Despite neither Wikipedia nor Grove listing any compositions by this nineteenth-century Master of the Queen’s Music, Chris Hainsworth described and produced for us one of the most bombastic, patriotic, rumpty-tum pieces of music I’ve ever heard, complete with aural descriptions of battle between the British and Prussians against Napoleon’s French’ rejoicing, lamentation for the slain (this section very ‘churchy’), complete with cannonade and appropriate vocal interjections.

Another import to the programme necessitated by circumstance was a Vivaldi cello sonata.  Despite the exigencies of their situation, the performers played the gentle, slow opening with great delicacy and accuracy.  The fast second movement featured the same characteristics, despite the tempo, and the final movement, again slow, had quite a wistful or even lamenting air to it.   The cellist gave very clean execution of the ornaments.

The fast finale demonstrated very fine, accomplished and musical playing from both performers, especially noteworthy considering the almost impossibly short notice; Chris Hainsworth told the audience that they had last played the Vivaldi 10 years ago!

“Mons Leidvin Takle. born: 1942. country: Norway … ‘He brings enthusiasm and boundless energy to whatever repertoire he tackles.”  I couldn’t resist copying this Internet entry.  I had never heard of the
composer before.  This piece was written for the fortieth wedding anniversary of his sister, we were told.  It was a rumbustious organ piece, a forte both in dynamics and performance.  There was plenty of vigour, and dynamic variation.

I’m giving way to temptation to say “full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.’  It reminded me of the
hurdy-gurdy my friends and I had heard played the previous day, at Pataka in Porirua, as part of the Festival of the Elements.

For the ‘Cool Selection’ Chris mentioned ‘umbral colours’.  Some of the themes he played were familiar to me, others not.  Vittorio Monti’s Czardas was an appropriately jubilant way to end the recital.

Next day, the diminished audience heard in a little over half-an-hour those works from the original programme that had to be postponed on Sunday.  The Charpentier now featured live trumpet, and what a player! Not only could the organ open up more with the trumpet as soloist, but what a great sound Nicolas Planchon produced!

The Torelli concert (allegro-largo-allegro) was a jubilant piece, with much brilliant work for the trumpet.  The slow movement opened with what initially sounded like that used by Barber in his famous Adagio for Strings.  The lively, even bouncy, finale complete a most satisfying work.

Cécile Chaminade (1857 – 1944) is one of the few women composers to be heard reasonably often.   Her Pastorale for organ employs rather conventional nineteenth-century harmonies, but is attractive nonetheless.

Fauré’s well-known Pavane received a most beautiful rendition on trumpet and organ.  The arrangement (by one of the performers?) began with the muted trumpet, with which Planchon made a most beautiful sound.  The middle section was sans mute; the last part again with mute.
The result was magical.

The major work was Fantasy on Verdi’s La Traviata by Joseph Jean-Baptiste Laurent Arban (1825 –1889).  To say that this was très difficile for the trumpeter, is an understatement.  He revealed wonderful control of his instrument.  I’ve never thought of the trumpet as subtle, but here is was. After the statement of several themes from the opera, the virtuoso stuff started – variations putting great demands on the player, all of which he fully met.

Chris Hainsworth announced the last item as a tribute to Wellington’s weather.  What was our surprise on hearing Gershwin’s Summertime, elegantly and artistically played, again with the initial announcement of the theme by the muted trumpet.

Despite the extraordinary circumstances, those of us lucky enough to attend on both days heard a great variety of music superbly performed.

 

Entertaining Christmas concert from the Northern Chorale

Northern Chorale: Waits, Wassailers and Star Singers

Rutter: Brother Heinrich’s Christmas

Music by Mendelssohn and arrangements of traditional carols

Conducted by Monika Smith, with Jonathan Berkahn (piano and organ), Elizabeth Warren (oboe) and Penny Miles (bassoon)

St. Barnabas Church, Khandallah

Sunday, 30 November 2014, 2.30pm

It was a new take on Christmas music to present a selection of songs that were traditionally sung by carollers in their neighbourhoods, expecting to be rewarded with food and drink.  Monika Smith’s brief, entertaining introductions to the songs made it clear that it was often the reward that was the focus, rather than the music.

The concert opened with a traditional carol, ‘Resonet in laudibus’ sung as a processional.  This was followed by the well-known ‘Sleepers Wake’, but in Mendelssohn’s version rather than the more familiar Bach setting.  Here I found the piano rather too loud, and thought the organ would have been a more appropriate accompanying instrument, given that the version was from the oratorio St. Paul, in which there would have been orchestra.

The carol ‘Up!  Good Christen folk and listen’ I found too slow compared with other performances I have heard.  It made the carol seem rather dull, and the choir lacking in energy.  However, this aspect improved during the concert, not least in Stainer’s version of ‘God rest you merry, gentlemen’ and ‘Here we come a-wassailing’.  This last featured some solos from choir members – not of an even standard.  After another wait carol, arranged by David Willcocks, we came to some German Sternsingerlied, or Star Singers Songs.

Die Heilige Königen, from Bavaria, is traditionallysung by children carrying a large star on a pole – it was duly held by a choir member.  The singing in these folksy songs was more cohesive.  The next one was quite humorous, with complaints about having an ox in the stable with the baby.  It was sung in a characteristic folksy manner, with especially pleasing singing from the women of the choir.  What followed was a folksong from Silesia, in which the women sing, representing Mary who asks her husband for assistance, as you would if rocking a cradle on a cold, windy mountain-top.  However, his fingers are too frozen to help.  The women began well, but the singing became rather dull, and the attacks at the beginning of phrases were not good.

The lengthy Vaughan Williams arrangement of the Gloucestershire Wassail had unison singing of considerable gusto.  Despite some slight intonation wobbles, the carol was sung well, and the performance was enlivened by large cardboard animals, drawn with great accuracy, parading at the back of the choir at appropriate moments.

John Rutter’s Brother Heinrich’s Christmas is delightful, but does not contain a lot of singing for the choir, though their contribution was good.   The story, capably narrated by several choir members is full of delight, as are Rutter’s piano accompaniment and especially the use of the oboe and the bassoon, the latter representing the donkey Sigismund, also  represented by a large stuffed donkey, who periodically took his place in the  choir.  His part in assisting Heinrich with the writing of ‘In dulci jubilo’ is amusingly rendered.

A couple of audience carols accompanied on organ presaged the last item ‘We wish you a merry Christmas’, which a false entry from the men managed to turn into somewhat of a shambles. But perhaps it was all part of the fun.

 

 

Tudor Consort with marvellous music: Motets by Bach and settings of the texts by others

“Singet dem Herrn”: The Tudor Consort, directed by Michael Stewart

Music by J S Bach, Sven-David Sandström, William Byrd, Hugo Distler

Sacred Heart Cathedral

Saturday, 29 November 2014, 7.30pm

The programme revolved around three of Bach’s motets: Singet dem Herrn, Lobet den Herrn alle Heiden, and the incomparable Jesu, meine Freude.  The other works were settings of the same or related texts by other composers, some with a conscious nod to Bach.

One notable characteristic of the superb Tudor Consort is the involvement of the singers in what they are presenting.  This is shown by accuracy, attention to detail, fine vocal production, variation of expression through word stress and dynamics, and clarity of words.  The singers’ faces reflect this involvement; singers in some choirs look as though mentally they are somewhere else.  This must be the only choir with more men than women members (13 to12).

The opening motet by Bach, Singet dem Herrn ein neues Lied (‘Sing to the Lord a new song’, not ‘Sing to the Lord no new song’, as the German title as printed had it) was lively, the performance emphasising the sprightly rhythm.  The well-balanced choir gave punch to the joyful nature of the words, from Psalm 149.

For the Bach items Michael Stewart played the continuo on a small (or box) positive pipe organ, which many in the audience, including me, could hear but not see.  This in no way dominated, but provided the continuo basis such as the composer would have employed. The intricacy of Bach’s counterpoint was all there, but was never an end in itself.

The choir’s tone was very fine, and enhanced by the venue.  There was interesting dynamic variation, and only one aberration that I heard.  However, it was disappointing to see so many of the choir, especially the men, stuck in their scores.  Even though there may not have been the same need to watch the conductor, since he was limited by his playing in the conducting gestures he could give, looking up enhances a choir’s communication with its audience.

As a contrast to the bright mood of the motet’s opening Psalm, the following Chorale sung by half the choir, ‘Wie sich ein Vater erbarmet’ (As a father is merciful) was beautifully peaceful and smooth.  Choir 2’s aria was a plea to God for his care, interspersed with the Chorale. Finally, all sang words from Psalm 150.

After the motet, Michael Stewart addressed some remarks to the audience concerning the work, and the work to follow, by contemporary Swedish composer Sven-David Sandström.  It was based on words from Psalm 117: Lobet den Herrn alle Heiden (Praise the Lord, all nations).  The brief programme
note informed us that the composer ‘wrote his own set of six motets using the same texts as J S Bach.  Indeed, much of his choral music since the 1990s has been written “in the footsteps of Bach”’.

His unaccompanied work proved to be complex, with many cross-rhythms. However, it was very much choral music, with effective use of the words, and giving plenty of opportunity for the choir to exhibit its splendid tone colours.  As the interlocking interjections sped up, words were no longer distinguishable.  A passage of smooth harmony, followed, a passage of great beauty, its multiple parts shifting the harmony in unexpected ways to wonderful effect.  The concluding ‘Alleluia’ began sounding really angelic, but became quite impassioned.

The Bach version of the same motet saw the choir regroup, and Michael Stewart return to the organ.  Again the complexity of the writing did not obscure the beauty of the music nor of the words, which were delivered in impeccable German.

Praise our Lord all ye Gentiles by William Byrd brought forth a lovely sound from the choir, featuring the altos and the men only.  This 6-part motet was unaccompanied, and notable for much decoration of the words, and long melismatic passages.  The Renaissance idiom and style was a refreshing change from the complexities of the Baroque.

Hugo Distler’s Singet dem Herrn ein neues Lied (again put in the negative in the heading!) was not written to the same words as the opening Bach work, despite the opening lines; in this case the words are from Psalm 98.   Distler, too, was a follower of Bach and the Baroque style.  Like the Byrd piece, this was sung unaccompanied.

The work opened with a strong sound from the men.  Despite being neo-baroque, there were harmonies that would have astonished Bach – some were stark and angular.  However, the cadences were almost uniformly delicious, and the work was of considerable rhythmic variety.  As with the Sandström work, this was unfamiliar music that was well worth hearing.

To end the programme, the Tudor Consort performed Bach’s lengthy motet Jesu, Meine Freude.  Its eleven movements alternate quotations from Romans, chapter 8, with chorales meditating upon the Biblical words, written by Johann Frank in 1650.  To my mind this is one of the most beautiful and most satisfying choral works.  It is wonderfully varied in its expression of words, and of faith.  It is one of the supreme works of Bach, performed all too seldom – but making such an occasion as this to be all the
more treasured.

The choir, accompanied on the organ, sang the opening chorale with commitment and expressiveness.  The following chorus, the first of the quotations from Romans, was sung with subtlety and great attention to expression and varying the dynamics.  The chorale commenting on the Biblical passage provides a feast of word-painting, with its talk of storms, of Satan, and particularly of thunder and lightning.

The next passage from Romans was sung by trebles only, the writing being utterly delicate.  Despite a few wonky notes, the effect was pleasing indeed.  Its chorale speaks of defiance to death and the strength of God.  Its positive mood was rendered by the harmony, sequences and cadences.

The passage about being of the spirit rather than the flesh began with men only, and was full of complex counterpoint.  The florid passages were certainly not easy to sing, and a few notes came out flat.  After the next chorale, the following chorus’s opening (‘However, if Christ is in you…’) is tranquil and peaceful, but gives way to counterpoint of great complexity for all parts, only for all to come together for a glorious ending.

The chorale ‘Gute Nacht’ is utterly magical, moving from simple soprano and alto parts to contrasting ornate parts for the men.  The treble parts come into their own complexity briefly, before the chorale melody weaves between all parts.  A spirit of contemplation is paramount in this movement.

A jubilant chorus celebrating the resurrection of Christ and of believers leads to the final chorale, which restates the motet’s opening chorale melody and harmony for its contemplation that ends with Jesu, meine Freude (‘Jesus, my joy’).  Strongly sung, this revealed again excellent balance and mellifluous tone.

The audience enthusiasm proved, if proof were necessary, that all had enjoyed an evening of rewarding and uplifting music-making.  I felt honoured to have heard this marvellous music.  It was a musical and spiritual treat.

 

 

Third of the Cathedral’s recitals for the new Steinway, from Jian Liu

Jian Liu (piano)
Concert, to support the purchase of the Steinway piano from the former TVNZ studios at Avalon: ‘Evocations – piano music in a vast space’

Byrd: Hughe Ashtons Grownde
Beethoven: Six Variations on a theme in F major, Op.34
Farquhar: Sonatina
Debussy: Images Book I (Reflections in the Water; Homage to Rameau; Movement)
Bach-Busoni: Chaconne

Wellington Cathedral of St. Paul

Friday, 14 November 2014, 6pm

Compared with the two earlier recitals in this series, this one attracted a small attendance only.  Perhaps it is getting too late in the year (i.e. close to Christmas) for people to come to a Friday early-evening recital.

It was appropriate to hear Byrd played in the Cathedral, although a little strange to hear it on the piano.  From My Ladye Nevells Booke that consisted of 42 pieces for keyboard, the Grownde would most likely have been played on the virginals at the time of its composition.

Liu played with minimum sustaining pedal; despite the resulting clarity, the resonance of the building added its lustre, which was perhaps not inappropriate for this piece.  It was full of charm and subtlety, of melody, harmony, rhythm and dynamics, all conveyed fluently giving a thoroughly delightful effect.  The piece’s passionless nuances meshed well with the calm atmosphere of the Cathedral, away from the noise and bustle of the city.

Beethoven was another matter.  The composer’s dynamics, and greater use of the pedal, could not help bringing into play the reverberation of the building – what one Wellington musician has called its ‘bathroom acoustics’.  Perhaps because of the small numbers of absorbent bodies present, I found the acoustic intruded more than at the previous two recitals in the series.

Jian Liu’s flexible finger-work and totally impeccable technique gave us splendid music, however, and the power and the passion of Beethoven were there, along with his astonishing inventiveness, in the Variations. The interpretation gave Beethoven his due, but the louder passages produced reverberation that perhaps even Beethoven in his deafness might have heard.  The Variations proceeded from the relatively simple to the utterly thrilling, while the gentle ending was soulful indeed.

It was good to hear music from noted New Zealand composer, the late David Farquhar.  However, it would have been useful to have had programme notes, as were provided for the first concert in the series, or at least tempi markings for the movements of the works performed (where relevant) as for the second concert.  The music began with a small cell of  notes close together – a great contrast to the expansiveness of Beethoven.  The music gradually built up, and strove for higher things.  This growth was beautifully handled.

The slow movement juxtaposes excitements for both hands alongside playful figures, becoming rhythmically intense.  The music then moved straight into a lively, even ecstatic ending.  Apart from this and the opening Byrd work, Liu played the programme without music scores.

The dreamy first movement of Debussy’s Images brought the pedal into use a great deal, but with the quieter dynamics of this work there was not undue resonance, and what there was simply added to the ambience of Debussy’s watery atmosphere of the first piece.  This music above all other in the series lived up to the title ‘Evocations – music in a vast space’.

The “Hommage  à Rameau” is a quintessential keyboard piece, reliant on impeccable technique as well as on fine interpretive skills – both of which Liu has in generous measure.  “Mouvement” features bells clanging in the right hand part while the left hand has deep rumblings supporting the growing cascade of notes that sometimes appeared to arrive from afar; at others, they were close and meaningful.

As an organist, I prefer my Bach unadulterated, but I can understand why composers are drawn to compose upon the many wonderful compositions of JSB.  Busoni was one such, and wrote his elaborations on the famous Chaconne from Partita no.2 for violin (BWV 1004). The violin work that was described by Yehudi Menuhin as “the greatest structure for solo violin that exists” can stand the treatment.  The dynamic contrasts certainly gave character, but brought out again the undue resonance in the building.  The variations built up to a level almost of ferocity.  Yet there was much variety of mood in addition to dynamics.  As time went on, I was becoming converted to Busoni’s work, not least because of Liu’s sensitive performance, bringing out as it did much beauty and nuance.

Liu is very much the versatile solo pianist, and he did the Steinway proud – and the composers whose music he played.

 

Two Harps create magic at Futuna Chapel

Colours of Futuna Concert Series presents: Two Harps

Music by Debussy, Britten, Young, Fauré, Scarlatti, Becker, Scott and Guard

Jennifer Newth and Michelle Velvin, harps

Futuna Chapel, Karori

Sunday, 26 October 2014

The Futuna chapel proved to be an ideal venue for harp music, being small and intimate,  and very resonant, with its timber and concrete surfaces.  There was no difficulty in hearing the quietest sounds, and the resonance of notes after they had ceased to be plucked, was sustained and beautiful.  The occasional raw tone, upon a string being plucked again while still sounding, also stood out, but this happened rarely.

Unfortunately I missed the first item, Debussy’s Pour Invoquer Pan, transcribed for two harps.  A pity, as I am sure in would have been magical.

Jennifer Newth played ‘Hymn’ from Suite for Harp, Op. 83 by Benjamin Britten.  It was a wonderful piece of intricate music, beautifully played, featuring variations on the hymn tune ‘St. Denio’, most frequently sung to the words ‘Immortal invisible, God only wise’.

This was followed by Kenneth Young’s Autumn Arabesque, which revealed a great variety of dynamics.  This was a brilliant performance, full of subtlety.  Lovely timing and shimmering, ecstatic sounds were notable in this delightful work, demonstrating the skill of the composer as well as that of the performer.  The programme note quoted Young as saying that the piece ‘has a bitter sweet nostalgic quality which I often associate with Autumn’.  We were experiencing a chilly spring day, but the tones and gestures of the music were telling.  The resonance of the final note was sustained for an amazing length of time in this acoustic, thanks to the stillness of the audience.

Fauré’s Impromptu had a much more rambunctious opening than did the previous pieces.  This extended work demonstrated the skill of the composer in writing music absolutely apt for the instrument.  Jennifer Newth played it without the score.  The lush tones and varied dynamics meant the playing was always interesting and the sonorities were enchanting

Following Fauré, Michelle Velvin played her bracket, that began with Sonata in A minor, Kirkpatrick 148 of Domenico Scarlatti, which the performer had transcribed herself.  It sounded so straight-forward after the delicacy of much of the Fauré!  It was very apparent how much more light and shade the harp was able to express compared with the harpsichord.  As with the piano or the harpsichord, notes once struck on the harp cannot be sustained except by resonance, unlike the case with the organ or wind instruments, on which sounds can be held by the fingers.  Thus the magic of playing in a small, resonant venue gave a whole new life to this music on the harp.

However, this very feature meant that it was particularly unwelcome in the quiet music to hear the accompaniment of cellophane wrappers on cough sweets being undone.  I have no shares in the manufacturing company, but I always use and advocate for “Fisherman’s Friend”, a cough lozenge that brings no additional auditory effects to a concert.

The next work was by Wellington singer and composer Pepe Becker: Capricorn 1: Pluto in Terra.  I heard this work just over a year ago, played by Helen Webby.  Its astrological significance was not detailed in the programme note this time, but rather the aspects of the Christchurch earthquakes that the composer was evoking.  In her words that were quoted (though not here in quotation marks!) ‘… evoke both gravelly and murky qualities of slowly-shifting earth’.  I enjoyed it even more on a second hearing.  The use of a piece of paper between the strings early in the work, changing the tone; knocking on the soundboard and passages of low humming from the player all added to the other-worldly effects of the music.  Intriguing off-beat rhythms were a feature.  It was indeed evocative, and very effective.

I was struck by the fact that a harpist is so graceful to watch – the movement is like an elegant dance.  Michelle’s playing was a little less incisive than Jennifer’s; it was interesting to be aware of some difference in tonal quality, but the playing of both was skilled and enjoyable.

Crossing Waves by contemporary British composer Andy Scott was a stunningly beautiful piece and very descriptive of its subject matter.  Amazing glissandi from forte to pianissimo were among its delights, depicting the ocean and its moods.  These were followed by a serene section.  The programme note described the work as reflecting ‘the many moods of such a journey [as that taken by solo rower across the Atlantic Ocean, Roz Savage]: apprehension and excitement at the start, isolation and beauty in the mid-ocean, and energy and optimism as the journey is almost over.’

Finally, for something completely different; three short pieces from the Isle of Man, arranged for two harps by Charles Guard, one of the top Celtic harpists – but played here on the orchestral harp, as was the entire programme.  They were titled “Manannan Mac y Lir”, “Slumber Song” and “Flitter Dance”.  The players demonstrated a variety of technical skills, exploiting the versatility of their instrument in these colourful pieces.

We are fortunate to have such skilled harpists in Wellington, thanks to the New Zealand Symphony Orchestra’s harpist, Carolyn Mills – obviously an outstanding teacher.  And of course to the dedication and hard work of the soloists, whose musical accomplishment it was a pleasure to hear.

Inspiring lunchtime performances from NZSM string players

St Andrew’s-on-The-Terrace Lunchtime Concert Series

Undergraduate Strings of the NZSM

Caitlin Morris (cello), Laura Barton and Julian Baker (violins), accompanied by Rafaella Garlick-Grice (piano)

Music by SAINT-SAENS, JS BACH, MENDELSSOHN, SHOSTAKOVICH

St Andrew’s-on-The-Terrace

Wednesday, 22 October 2014

It was nothing short of astonishing to hear the level of musicianship and accomplishment on their instruments that these students demonstrated. As an undergraduate concert it was quite staggering.

The concert opened with the cello of Caitlin Morris, playing a section from Saint-Saëns’ Cello Concerto No.1, Op.33. Hers was dynamic and exciting playing. The tempo was quite fast, despite the ‘non troppo’marking of the opening. It was a little too fast, in my view, to bring to life some of the quick passages and figures in both the cello and the orchestral parts (the latter on piano, of course). Nevertheless, melodies were brought out well, and Caitlin’s playing produced excellent tone and subtlety of phrasing and shading of dynamics.

The double-stopping was executed seamlessly, while the accompaniment was at all times clear but never overwhelmed the soloist. The lyrical passages were very fine on both instruments, and Rafaella rendered the orchestra superbly – perhaps even Saint-Saëns would not have missed the full band if he had heard this excellent performance. The players were rewarded with warm applause from the audience.

Laura Barton played next – three items, all from memory. Bach’s unaccompanied Preludio in E from Partita no.3 BWV 1006 was first. This popular solo piece has its difficulties; there were some intonation inaccuracies, particularly at the beginning. Things improved as the piece proceeded. There was great clarity in Laura’s playing (and in her speaking voice introducing her programme, too); this was a very competent performance.

Saint-Saëns returned, in completely different mood, in the form of the well-known Havanaise, Op.83. It was played with panache and expressiveness. Technically demanding, it produced a few slight fluffs in pitch, but it was played with flair and musicality. Again, the sensitive accompaniment provided all the notes and moods that the orchestral score would have. As well as songs and dances, the music seems to have an element of bravado about it.

The third movement of Mendelssohn’s well-known Violin Concerto in E minor Op.64 followed. It was played with skill and flourish. While the Latin word ‘dexter’ means the right hand, Laura’s left hand was in no way sinister, and in fact was extremely dextrous. I would have liked a little more articulation and phrasing from both instruments at times. However, Laura’s tone was for the most part warm and radiant.

After this considerable contribution, came Julian Baker. He played from Shostakovich’s Violin Concerto no.1, Op.99, the third and fourth movements: Passacaglia: andante, and Burlesque: allegro con brio. The complex and demanding music was played from memory. This violinist makes a lovely sound. The contemplative, sombre mood at the commencement of the Passacaglia was a great contrast to the Mendelssohn we had just heard.The playing was strong and incisive when required; light and shade and a variety of tonal colours contributed to the satisfying interpretation.

Julian was secure technically, including in the extended sequences of double-stopping. The cadenza at the end of the Passacaglia and the solo first two-thirds of the Burlesque were played with consummate skill. Amazing glissando flourishes and the speed that became not merely allegro con brio but furioso seemed to hold no fears for the violinist.

This was an absolute tour de force, and the audience showed their appreciation by demanding that Julian Baker come on for a second bow.

NZ Opera’s “Don Giovanni” in Wellington enthralling

New Zealand Opera presents:
Mozart: Don Giovanni

Cast:
Don Giovanni: Mark Stone, Leporello: Warwick Fyfe, Donna Elvira: Anna Leese
Donna Anna: Lisa Harper-Brown, Don Ottavio: Jaewoo Kim, Commendatore: Jud Arthur
Masetto: Robert Tucker, Zerlina: Amelia Berry

Chapman Tripp Opera Chorus, Orchestra Wellington,
Conductor: Wyn Davies,

Director: Sara Brodie

St. James Theatre

Saturday, 11 October 2014

 

Much has been written about what is probably the world’s most continuously
successful opera: Mozart’s Don Giovanni. That it continues to draw in the crowds despite the misgivings of various ‘experts’ over the years is tribute not only to the variety and virtuosity of the music, but also to the characterisation in Lorenzo da Ponte’s sometimes denigrated libretto.

This opera is notable for many things; the complexity of the vocal writing is certainly one of them. Another is the complexity of the plot. All the characters contrive to find themselves in bad situations from which they manage to escape, just in time. Except for Don Giovanni at the end; his final come-uppance was delivered in this version with a dramatic twist that was in accord with the contemporary production.

There were numbers of features in Wyn Davies’s conducting, Sara Brodie’s production and John Verryt’s sets that made this production of Mozart’s great opera stand out from others one has seen. In no particular order, features were: plenty of fast-paced action and music, the use of the revolving stage making for quick changes of the sets, the 21st century setting, the contemporary English of the surtitles (e.g. ‘creep’ to describe the Don), and the uniformly high standard of the lead characters’ singing and acting.

Setting the story amongst shabby ‘low life’ gathering places rather than in palazzos and piazzas was a surprise. The Hotel Commendatore, and the Hotel Ottavio, plus the Libertino’s ‘Nite Club’ allowed for much comic business, particularly the latter venue. The use of cellphones, tablet, and a modern Red Cross-style rescue team were ‘verismo’ features, 2000s-style.

These were hardly incongruities in terms of the setting; what was incongruous was having the cast doing contemporary formless slow jogging about to Mozart’s delicious music designed for quite different dances; this left me feeling disappointed and deprived – though it is hard to know what else could be done, given the contemporary setting. The pole-dancers in the background were no more or less incongruous.

The well-produced programme featured not one, not two, but three excellent essays, by John Drummond, Nicholas Reid and John Pattinson. Another commendable feature of this production was that apart from two very fine singers from overseas (Mark Stone from UK and Warwick Fyfe from Australia), the principals were all New Zealanders.

Those tremendous, portentous opening chords from the orchestra set the scene for a dramatic evening of opera. From the overture onwards, the orchestra played with great verve and panache, always ‘on the ball’, every instrument making a marked contribution to the whole.

The curtains opened on a dark set revealing the night club, a homeless man endeavouring to bed down in its vicinity (this on the day following World Homeless Day), and the brusque treatment he received – these all came to mean something in the ensuing drama.

The first character to reveal himself is Leporello, with Warwick Fyfe in fine voice, and with much nuance in his acting. Under Sara Brodie’s direction he was not so much of a buffoon as in some productions. His ‘Catalogue Aria’ in Act I was brilliantly performed. The catalogue was held on his cellphone, which he manipulated with sweeping gestures (a little impractical, I would have thought, to have a document with 2065 entries, on a tiny device!). Only in the final scene, his contribution could not be clearly heard.

The appearance of the Don introduced us to the splendid singing of Mark Stone. These demanding roles were well under the belts of the two gentlemen; Mark Stone was very much the persuasive seducer, his voice ready for the variety of timbres demanded by the different aspects of his character portrayed in the company of his would-be conquests, of his denouncers and of his servant. His big arias were sung with lots of swagger where appropriate, and sure vocal technique – masterful. The delightful Canzonetta with mandolin, ‘Deh vieni alla finestra’ was ingratiating and sung with great variation and subtlety in the voice.

Lisa Harper-Brown’s Donna Anna was at first rather overwhelmed by the orchestra, from where I sat. Her voice was at times rather shrill; I agree with William Dart’s comment in his New Zealand Herald review that she ‘showed some vocal straining’; words were not clear and her acting was stiff much of the time. This could be taken as characterisation of a woman whose father had just been murdered, but I wasn’t persuaded. I found her costume rather unbecoming for a tall woman. However, her final recitative and aria ‘Crudele…’ sung to Don Ottavio was very richly rendered.

Anna Leese’s Donna Elvira was wonderful – relaxed, her voice and words always clear, her acting natural and effective, she fulfilled the role superbly. Her entire portrayal was very strong and dramatic, commanding in both acting and singing, and her final aria was fabulous. As the Commendatore (a role he also played in Wellington City Opera’s 1987 production) Jud Arthur has the right bearing, and certainly the right voice: a deep, resonant bass, which he uses superbly well.

Don Ottavio (Jaewoo Kim) is criticised for being wooden, or not an adequate character, or other such phrases. However, he is written as rather a ‘wet’, and his apparently unsympathetic attitude probably stems from the fact that as a nobleman he could not believe that another nobleman would perpetrate such an act as murder. Kim has a lovely voice, and I did not find him inadequate, given the character he was portraying. He and Lisa Harper-Brown evoked the shocked, grieving couple very well. His ‘Il mio tesoro’ was a pleasure to hear.

Amelia Berry (Zerlina) had a few rather uncertain notes early on, but she soon settled down, and revealed not only splendid tone with a variety of timbre, but also her acting and characterisation were uniformly very good; she was really ‘in’ the role. Her singing blossomed, not the least when she produced a magical high C at one point. Her ‘Batti, batti’ was ingratiatingly lovely. Robert Tucker’s Massetto was a rather sturdy, stodgy character, but given to some fine acting and singing, though his voice was not always strong.

Of the many familiar arias in the opera, the singers gave great account, on the whole.I found the Don’s ‘Là ci darem la mano’ a little too slick. Maybe this was to depict his nature (and experience!), but would it persuade a young woman?

As if Mozart did not produce wonderful orchestral sounds and textures, superb solos and telling recitatives, where he excels in this opera is in the ensembles. The first quartet was just splendid, with the variety of emotions between the characters portrayed with sensitivity and skill by the singers. The trio early in Act II was another gorgeous ensemble; there were particularly lovely nuances in Anna Leese’s singing. The sextet in the middle of the Act was wonderfully well done, the drama conveyed through each part; the brilliance of Mozart’s writing here is quite breathtaking.

Summing up, it must said the production made less of the comic and more of the dark, even gothic and tragic in the story than do some productions. There was lots of loud and not a great deal of soft. However, characters were brilliantly portrayed, while the action and stage business kept things interesting. The chorus, like the orchestra, were uniformly first-class, and had plenty of stage business and acting, always carried out convincingly. All involved deserve hearty congratulations.

Among the many notable production touches were the scaffold beside the Hotel Ottavio, that enabled the Don to climb close to Donna Elvira’s window; the sight of the maid through the window as she went through Elvira’s bag, finally removing money.

The nice connection between the homeless man and the Commendatore should not be given away in a review, nor should the dramatic stunt that despatches the Don. The ending sextet was a commendable conclusion, following which the audience erupted in enthusiastic response, thoroughly deserved. We were privileged to attend such an enthralling, high quality production of Mozart’s great work.

Further performances are on 16 and 18 October at 7.30pm.