Author: Rosemary Collier

Music played as the composers would have wished, at St Andrew’s

Posted on by Rosemary Collier

Minor Pleasures: Baroque music for two violins and continuo

Music by Telemann, Purcell, J.S. Bach, Corelli

Claire Macfarlane (violin), Jessica Lightfoot (violin), Emma Goodbehere (cello), Ariana Odermatt (harpsichord)

St Andrew’s on The Terrace

Wednesday, 12 September 2012, 12.15pm

It was striking to see a red harpsichord that exactly matched the carpet in St. Andrew’s!  That was not the only euphony on Wednesday.

Listening to lilting music on baroque instruments (and bows), in baroque style, was a pleasant way to spend a lunch-hour in the warm ambience of St. Andrew’s Church..

The first item was a surprise – ‘Gulliver Suite’ by Georg Philipp Telemann.  The excellent programme notes informed us that it was one of a set of twenty-five lessons written “for the enjoyment of music makers at home”, in 1728, only two years after Jonathan Swift’s novel was published.  It is amazing how quickly the book travelled abroad, presumably to Telemann in a German translation.  The work was for two violins only, in five movements: Intrada: Spirituoso; Lilliputsche Chaconne; Brogdingnagische Gigue; Reverie der Laputier, nebst ihren Aufweckern (Reverie of the Laputans and their Attendant Flappers), Andante; Loure der gesitteten Hoyhnhnms (Loure [presumably from the French Loureur meaning ponderousness, dullness] of the Well-mannered Flappers) / Fure der unartigen Yahoos (Wild dance of the Untamed Yahoos).

The titles bring a smile to one’s face.  Whoever coined the phrase ‘serious music’ had not heard of this suite!  The dance movements represented the scenes and characters in Dickens’s work.  A couple of lines of the autograph score were reproduced in the printed programme, depicting (as they almost literally do) the Lilliputians with their hemi-demi-semi-x2-quavers, and the Brobdingnags with their semi-breves, in 24 over 1 time-signature!

The giants who notionally performed the Gigue were noted as ‘clumsy’ – but it is hard to sound clumsy on two well-played violins!  Likewise, the naughty Yahoos were not outlandishly badly behaved in this combination of instruments, being neither particularly furious or wild.  Nevertheless, the inferences were there in the music.

A very good spoken commentary on the works to be played followed, from Claire Macfarlane.

Not for the first time in this venue, I found the violin tone too astringent at times.  The varnished wooden floor and the clear acoustics seem to create this effect.

It was an interesting contrast to have Purcell’s Sonata no.4 in D minor, Z.805 (from 10 Sonatas in 4 parts) follow the Telemann.  The five movement work is scored for two violins with cello and harpsichord continuo.  The cello part counterpointed the harmony of the violins beautifully, and the work was played with nicely nuanced baroque style.  Personally, I preferred the addition of the lower tones in this work compared with the purely violin tones of the Telemann.  While the cello sound carried well, the harpsichord did not come through to the same extent against the incisive violin sound, the violinists being placed directly in front of the keyboard instrument.  The playing, however, was well-nigh impeccable.

The more catholic style of Purcell’s writing was full of interest, with much interplay of parts and use of dissonance.

Bach was so taken with Alessandro Marcello’s Concerto no.3 in D minor for oboe, that he arranged it into a solo harpsichord concerto (BWV 974).  The whole work has plenty of character – no wonder Bach was attracted to it, as was the audience, hearing it superbly played by Ariana Odermatt.  The articulation was splendid, allowing all parts to come through clearly.

The last composer featured was Corelli, firstly in his Sonata no.4 in E minor (from Twelve Sonatas, Op.2).  The five-movement work was delightfully played by the four musicians.  The Preludio – adagio was graceful, featuring many suspensions.  An Allemanda – presto followed, then a Grave movement, in complete contrast.  Again, I found the harpsichord very reticent compared with the cello.  The Adagio and final Giga – allegro were notable for beautifully unified playing, plenty of lift, and absolutely spot-on rhythm.

The Sonata no.12 in G major (Chaconne) that followed was also a most attractive work for all four players.  The working out of variations on a four-note figure was inspired, and a satisfying end to a concert of seldom-heard works (with the exception perhaps of the Bach) that gave variety and contrast.  The playing was of such a standard that we probably heard the music very much as the composers would have intended.

 

 

Splendid singing at gathering of Anglican cathedral choirs

Posted on by Rosemary Collier

Cathedral Choirs in Concert:
Choirs of Holy Trinity Cathedral, Auckland; Cathedral Church of St. Peter, Hamilton; Waiapu Anglican Cathedral, Napier; Wellington Cathedral of St. Paul; Christ Church Cathedral, Nelson; ChristChurch Cathedral, Christchurch; St. Paul’s Cathedral, Dunedin.

Wellington Cathedral of St. Paul

Saturday, 8 September at 5.30pm

It was a considerable enterprise to bring together the choirs of seven Anglican Cathedrals, especially when Wellington’s atrocious weather on the day prevented one choir (Dunedin’s) from arriving in time for them to be able to sing their item (it was to be sung in the next day’s Festal Eucharist instead).  Approximately 180 singers assembled for the weekend of singing.

The combined choirs sang first, ‘Hear my words, ye people’ by Hubert Parry.  This music was written for such a building as this one, and it certainly worked.  There was a resounding organ introduction from Richard Apperley, who accompanied the first two items, followed by quite a lengthy choral anthem.  There was lovely shading of the dynamics throughout, but the solos did not carry well.  The work was not as attractive as some of Parry’s better known anthems, and its length probably precludes it from frequent performance.  It was ably directed by Michael Stewart, of Wellington Cathedral.

Next came ‘I saw the Lord’, by John Stainer.  This had the grandeur we associate with late Victorian England.  Wagner might have been proud of the chromatic writing.  In the quiet passages there was a charming stillness, and throughout, effective word-painting.  As in the previous work performed, there was some difficulty in keeping organ and soloists in sync.  Musically, the piece is rather conventional, with effect rather than feeling or subtlety of expression.  It was conducted by Rachael Griffiths-Hughes, Director of Music at the Cathedral in Hamilton.

The choir of Auckland Cathedral sang one of the many unaccompanied church compositions of 16th century Englishman John Sheppard: ‘Libera nos, salva nos’.  There was a splendid introduction from the men’s voices, and wonderful interweaving of the lines.  The singing of the whole motet exhibited sustained beauty.  A gradual increase in volume continued through to the ending.

Junior choristers from Nelson, Napier, Wellington and Christchurch cathedrals combined under the baton of Brian Law of Christchurch to sing two more modern anthems: John Ireland’s ‘Ex ore innocentium’ and ‘Prevent us, O Lord’ by English/Canadian composer, organist and choral director Derek Holman.  The choir of boys and some girls sang with clarity and sweetness of tone.  The organ was very competently played by  Richard Apperley.

The following items were performed by the Hamilton choir, under conductor Rachael Griffiths-Hughes.  First was Palestrina’s ‘Agnus Dei’ from Missa Aeterna Christe Munera.  Mainly an adult choir, it sang with full tone, the female voices more obviously such than was the case with the Auckland choir.  It was a very polished performance, the tone superb and the singers’ mastery of the music very evident.

At this point I had to leave, to attend another concert, so I missed the train; that is, ‘It was on that train’ by Barry Ferguson, from the same choir, combined choir items by Timothy Noon (conductor of the Auckland choir), Bruckner and Elgar, and the Christchurch choir’s singing under Brian Law ‘My beloved spake’ by Paul Halley, an American church musician and composer.

Despite hearing only six items out of ten on the programme (with the removal of the Dunedin choir’s item), I was impressed with the musicianship, confidence, and splendid singing and playing of all concerned.  Words do not travel well in Wellington’s Anglican Cathedral, but the sound was beautiful and the programme (or what I heard of it) very pleasing on the ear.

 

 

NZSM Orchestra cover themsleves with glory in Debussy and Mahler

Posted on by Rosemary Collier

Debussy: Prélude à l’après-midi d’un faune;  Fantaisie for Piano and Orchestra (andante-allegro; lento e molto  espressivo; allegro molto)
Mahler:   Symphony no. 1 in D major (Introduction and allegro comodo; scherzo; à la pompes funèbres; molto appassionato)

New Zealand School of Music Orchestra, Kenneth Young (conductor); Jian Liu  (piano)

Wellington Town Hall

Wednesday, 22 August 2012 at 7.30pm,

It was a pity that a larger audience was not present to hear this brilliant and satisfying concert.  Aside from quite a number of guest players, especially for the Mahler symphony, the orchestra was made up of students (plus a few staff) of the New Zealand School of Music.  The use of the Town Hall was sponsored by the Wellington City Council, i.e. it was free – a splendid gesture, to encourage music-making by young people.

The first impression was of the beautifully designed flier and programme, reproducing art from the Viennese Secession, notably Gustav Klimt (though not acknowledged); art from the time and place of Mahler.  However, I’m not so keen on the fashion for printing white on black – it’s harder to read, especially in the subdued lighting of a concert hall.  Programme notes by Kenneth Young were excellent, describing music in a way that gives the audience a little background, and then points to listen for, rather than exhibiting erudition.

It being Debussy’s 150th birthday, the choice of the first two works was apt – and they were broadcast on Radio New Zealand Concert (though for some reason not the equally apt Mahler) for its special day for Debussy, the theme of which was ‘La Belle Epoch’.  They must have been exciting times, the late 19th century and early 20th century – the art, literature and music were all forging new pathways.

The evocative opening of the first work by a single flute was magical.  The NZSM orchestra is well supplied with players of this instrument and also of the next to enter – the harps.  How many orchestras can boast four harpists?  Horns were next to introduce this delectable work, which I have not heard live for a very long time.  The wonderful, dreamy textures were played with great attention to dynamics.  The whole three works would have been challenging and worthwhile for students to play, since there are so many solo passages.  The pizzicato ending finished off a wonderful performance.  The first flute, Andreea Junc, received a special acknowledgement.

The second Debussy work was not a familiar one, but replete with the distinctive sounds of the composer’s unique writing.  Liquid sounds emanated from the piano; rich ones from the orchestra.  Here, there was full brass, whereas Prélude à l’après-midi d’un faune used only horns.  Despite the strength of this section, balance was good throughout the work; the brass came into its own with vigour at the end of the first movement, especially the trumpets.

The calm and dreamy second movement owed some of its character to the use of mutes on the strings.  Tutti passages were quite romantic, and a prominent oboe part gave piquancy.  Jian Liu’s style on the piano was exactly right.  The allegro third movement introduced rumbustiousness in places., though in the main the music was lilting and dance-like,  Contrasts were ethereal, even ecstatic.  The piano for most of  the time was part of the texture of the music, not having concerto-style solo passages or distinctive themes.  But it was always played with beautiful tone – never louder than lovely.  The work ended with a rousing flourish.

A big orchestra assembled for the Mahler, and the leadership changed from Kate Oswin to Arna Morton. Mahler rarely uses the whole orchestra in tutti, but varies the textures superbly.  The symphony’s spine-tingling opening dawn with its sustained eight-octave note from all the instruments, followed by the birds awakening and the sun rising through the light mist, against off-stage trumpet calls was very effective.  The main melody that emerges from the Introduction is a typical Mahler melody, from his Songs of a Wayfarer cycle, blissful in mood.  This jubilant theme involves the entire orchestra.  All the delightful little solo interjections were in place; the lower strings were nuanced beautifully in their miniature phrases, below the sustained notes from a few second violins.  Bird calls abounded, and then horn-calls seemed to announce a hunt, while the cellos played another folksong; with a crash, we’re into the lively ending section of the movement, with its frenetic jollity.

The Scherzo appears to be a high spirited dance, but perhaps it has a macabre sub-text, despite some beautiful melodies in its middle section, which featured fine playing, especially from the woodwind section, notably cor anglais.   There was excellent playing from percussion, too – and tuba.

The funeral march based on a slow and minor key setting of the well-known French song ‘Frère Jacques’ begins as a double bass solo (for which the section leader, Louis van der Mespel received his own acknowledgement at the end), bizarre and gloomy, unlike anything else in ‘serious’ music.  On my record cover (yes, LP) David Hall says “the juxtaposition (as in the early T.S. Eliot poems) of the magically ideal with the crassly vulgar”.

After the double bass, the bassoon joins in, then the cellos, then tuba, creating a spooky gradual build-up, with gong and timpani (two sets) under-girding the whole  most effectively.   Oboes play their other-worldly theme against pizzicato strings; a gorgeous tapestry is created, accompanied by muted first violins, assisted by flutes.

The grotesque march dies away gently, which makes the noisy opening of the last movement all the more shocking.  Two sets of trumpets can make a lot of noise.  Outsize bangers for the bass drum and considerable use of the  gong all add to the shattering effect.  But there is wonderful melody, too, that flows out from the first violins against repeated pizzicato on cellos; trombones provided brilliant back-up. The moving effect is of reconciliation, exaltation, redemption.  There are hints of ‘Frère Jacques’ in the cello part, before a big climax from the brass.

Themes from the first movement return.  Lovely phrasing of a superbly played yearning, romantic melody featured dynamics to match.  There was real bite in the violas interruption of this soporific melody.  The exciting outburst at the end, in which the seven horns stood to play, was magnificent.  This orchestra and its conductor covered themselves with glory, and did Mahler’s great first symphony proud. Colour, rhythm, irony, beauty – they were all there, enhanced by Mahler’s singular orchestration. The use of the Town Hall added immeasurably to the quality of the performance.

 

Douglas Mews and Broadwood give Haydn his dues

Posted on by Rosemary Collier

Haydn: Sonata in C, Hob.XVI:50 (allegro, adagio, allegro molto)

Andante with variations, in F minor, Hob.XVII:6

Sonata in E flat, Hob.XVI:52 (allegro, adagio, presto)

Douglas Mews, 1843 square Broadwood piano

St Andrew’s on The Terrace

Wednesday, 22 August 2012, 12.15pm

It was intriguing to hear such a different piano; this instrument sounded like a cross between a harpsichord and a modern piano.  The three works performed were composed during the early 1790s, when Haydn made two lengthy visits to London.  The programme note described the pianos Haydn would have encountered in London as ‘fundamentally different [in] character to the Viennese pianos he was familiar with.’  It has a rather uneven timbre from bass to the top of its shorter keyboard, but this may be, at least in part, due to its age.  It has quite a range of dynamics compared with that of the harpsichord, but it is not comparable with the range available on the grand piano or upright piano (which had not been developed at the time this piano was made).

Douglas Mews’s programme note states that ‘The English sound was typified by a romantic ‘haze’, which undoubtedly had an effect on Haydn’s writing style’.

The sonata in C was a charming work; the variety of the variations and the modulations in the final movement made it an interesting one as well.  The second work encompassed a great range of dynamics, from delicacy through to the coda’s stormy mood.

In the second sonata, in E flat, I heard the resonance of the instrument more, and also the ‘hazy’ sound of the English piano referred to.  The sonata, to my ears, had more ‘body’ than did the previous one played.  It featured an emphatic first subject in the first movement, and winsome melody in the slow movement, with lilting variations upon it.  The finale was light and very capricious.  The prestidigitation required from Douglas Mews was formidable.

This was something different in the way of a piano recital: skilled playing of delightful music on a different instrument from the species usually encountered.

 

Wellington’s Aria Contest remains an important event in vocal students’ calendar

Posted on by Rosemary Collier

Wellington Regional Vocal Competitions Aria Final

St. Andrew’s on The Terrace

Sunday, 19 August 2012, 7.30pm

Eight singers selected from earlier rounds sang an aria in each of the two halves of the  concert, and were judged by Roger Wilson, to decide the winner of the Dame Malvina Major Foundation Prize of $4,000, the runner-up, and other awards.

Accompanist was Mark Dorrell – and what a splendid job he did!  Sixteen arias to be accompanied on a piano and in an acoustic that does not lend itself easily to sensitive accompaniment, but this was impeccable playing.  It seems that never did he need to ask Gerald Moore’s question ‘Am I too loud?’  He received well-deserved applause from the audience at the end of the evening.

The audience was somewhat sparse – about 50 people, excluding the performers.  More advertising would probably pay for itself; indeed, some advertising, such as on Radio New Zealand Concert’s ‘Live Diary’ is free.

The arias chosen were more varied than is sometimes the case; only one was repeated.  Italian arias dominated, naturally, but there were four in the French language, two in English, and one each in Russian and German.  Rossini was the most popular composers, but otherwise, the spread was quite wide.

Richard Greager was compère for the evening, and provided knowledgeable introductory comments on each of the operas represented, and the situation in the plot in which the aria to be sung occurred.

The first of the singers was Angélique MacDonald, singing ‘Regnava nel silenzio’ from Lucia di Lammermoor by Donizetti.  This difficult aria and Lucia’s dramatic role were well characterised, but I found the voice rather metallic at times, and pitch a little suspect here and there.  St. Andrew’s Church has a lively acoustic and is relatively small as a venue, so these things are more obvious.  Her coloratura runs were executed well, and her presentation was in appropriate style.

Next up was Isabella Moore.  She is possessed of a full, rich voice, and apparently easy production.  Her notes are true, and they develop plenty of volume when required, but as well as being dramatic, she sang expressively, in very good French, ‘Il est doux, il est bon’ from a Massenet opera that is not well-known: Herodiade.  My reaction was ‘Wow!’

Now to the first of the male singers: baritone Julien Van Mallaerts.  His ‘Onegin’s Aria’ from Tchaikowsky’s Eugene Onegin was sung most beautifully, in Russian.  He conveyed the character of Onegin superbly well, with good phrasing and most expressive characterisation.

Christie Cook followed, with ‘Printemps qui commence’ from Samson et Dalila by Saint-Saëns.  The top notes of this soprano’s singing were quite lovely; initially, the low notes were not so good, but this changed.  She used her resonators well, particularly here, in the more nasal language that is French, a language that she had mastered effectively.  Her rich voice and excellent shaping of the aria made for a clear and telling performance.

Now to a tenor: Thomas Atkins, who sang a lesser-known aria by Cilea: ‘E la solita storia’, from L’Arlesiana.  Atkins’s voice has developed a more Italianate quality since I last heard him sing (not long ago).  His Federico produced superb tone and phrasing, with quiet and thoughtful sections well expressed.  Excellent control and use of his resonators were features.

One of the interesting features of the final contest is the variety of voices to be heard.  Amelia Ryman is a lyric soprano with a very true voice which she uses expressively.  Her high notes were magical, in ‘Willow Song’ from The Ballad of Baby Doe by Douglas Moore.  I knew nothing about composer or opera, but my Dictionary of Opera and Operetta (by James Anderson) tells me that the composer lived from 1893 to 1969, and composed a number of operas, of  which The Ballad of Baby Doe “was one of the most successful of all American operas”; it was first performed in 1956, only a few years before the first performance of Britten’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream, the other English language opera from which we heard an excerpt.  These were much the most modern of the arias performed, this one a folk ballad rather than an aria in the usual sense.  Amelia put it over with confidence and freshness.

I wondered if Cameron Barclay’s voice became a little tired towards the end of his aria ‘Il mio tesoro’ from Mozart’s Don Giovanni, after all the earlier rounds and classes in the Hutt Valley Competitions, climaxing in this aria contest.  Otherwise, he sang superbly.   The tenor aria of Don Ottavio suited him well, his pleasing voice sounding particularly good on high notes.  He demonstrated admirable variation of dynamics, and excellent runs.

Last in this half was Bianca Andrew, mezzo-soprano.  She chose ‘I know a bank’ from the Britten opera mentioned.  This was a contrast in styles from much else that was offered.  The character Bianca portrayed was Puck.  The introductory music on the piano was utterly appropriate to the character.  Her words were very clear, but this was a slow aria compared with most we heard – a contrast to her second choice, later.  She made an impressive job of this piece, and her facial expressions and gestures carried the character with them, while her singing was strong and full-bodied,  but with variety as well.

Angélique MacDonald’s aria that opened the second half of the concert, ‘Una voce poco fa’ from The Barber of Seville by Rossini, was another number with coloratura acrobatics, similarly to her aria in the first half.  Perhaps a contrast of style, such as other singers chose to present, would have been advantageous.  Slight flatness of some notes occurred again, but her coloratura passages were good.  I thought her facial expressions a little overdone, and the rendition somewhat too confident and cheeky in presentation.

Isabella Moore’s ‘Tacea la notte placida’ from Il Trovatore by Verdi was a difficult aria which the singer managed well, with a wealth of expression.  Her vibrant tones were just right for the dramatic heroine of this opera.

Rossini and his Barber returned, with Julien Van Mellaerts singing the aria that is probably the most well-known in all opera: ‘Largo al factotum’.  The baritone sang this with great style – and very fast!  His linguistic and vocal facility were remarkable, and his characterisation and acting of the role were excellent after his off-stage beginning, and entrance singing.

In ‘Cruda sorte’ from Rossini’s L’Italiana in Algeri, Christie Cook made a strong  impression.  Her beginning was very powerful; at first her intonation was a little off-centre, but improved.  She had a vocal quality befitting the character of  Isabella, and her top notes were excellent .

Thomas Atkins presented ‘Pourquoi me reveiller?’ from Werther by Massenet, in a very appropriate style for French opera..  His tender notes were wonderful.  My note says “Move over, Pavarotti”!

Amelia Ryman’s clear, agile voice again delivered the words very clearly, in ‘Ach, ich liebte’ from Die Entfürung aus dem Serail by Mozart.  The characterisation was very touching.

Cameron Barclay gave us ‘Je crois entendre encore’ from The Pearl Fishers by Bizet.  The high tessitura in this aria seemed to hold no fears; the tenor’s singing was very fine, and his breath control was splendid.

The only repeat of the evening was Bianca Andrew singing ‘Una voce poco fa’ from The Barber of Seville by Rossini, but at a lower pitch than that adopted by Angélique MacDonald (Rossini cast the role of Rosina for a mezzo).  She introduced it herself, speaking through the extended orchestral introduction (in this case, piano), to give the background to her character’s position.  The aria received a naturalistic presentation, with a certain amount of movement and posing, her voice being a thoroughly integrated part of the performance – and it was in fine form.  She was telling us the story, not showing us how beautifully she could sing.

At the end of proceedings, Angela Gorton spoke on behalf of the Dame Malvina Major Foundation, and adjudicator Roger Wilson spoke of the high level of performance we heard, and the interesting range of music.

Then there was the important business of awards: Julien Van Mallaerts won the Jenny Wollerman Award for the best rendition of a song or aria sung in French; the Robin Dumbell Memorial Cup for the young entrant with the most potential was won by Thomas Atkins; the Rokfire Cup for the most outstanding competitor (i.e. through all the vocal classes that qualified) was Bianca Andrew; the runner-up to the Dame Malvina Major Foundation Aria was Christie Cook, who also took the New Zealand Opera Society prize.  The winner of the Dame Malvina Major Foundation Aria and of the Rosina Buckman Memorial Cup was Isabella Moore.

The audience had a most entertaining evening, hearing singing of a very high standard.  Some singers have greater natural gifts than others – and then it is what the singers do with those gifts that is important.  All showed signs of having received excellent teaching in languages as well as voice, and should feel well pleased with their efforts.

 

 

Superb New Zealand premiere of Donizetti masterpiece in the Catholic Cathedral

Posted on by Rosemary Collier

Opera in a Days Bay Garden – Opera in the Basilica

Donizetti: Maria Stuarda

Lisa Harper-Brown (Elizabeth I); Paul Whelan (Talbot); Benjamin Fifita Makisi (Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester); Matt Landreth (Lord Cecil); Clarissa Dunn (Anna Kennedy); Rhona Fraser (Mary, Queen of Scots)
Producer: Rhona Fraser; Michael Vinten (conductor); Sara  Brodie (director)
Chapman Tripp NBR New Zealand Opera Chorus; orchestra

Cathedral of the Sacred Heart

Friday, 10 August 2012, 6.00pm

This was New Zealand’s first performance of Donizetti’s great opera, one of seven (I’m open to correction) that he wrote based on English and Scottish history and stories.  This one had a turbulent early history of censorship and numerous revisions because of its theme of battling royals and the execution of a crowned monarch.

Days Bay Opera was not in a garden this time, but appropriately in a Catholic church bearing the inscription ‘Sub Maria Nomine’.  It was virtually full of people; they witnessed an absolute triumph!  Days Bay Opera, principally the work of Rhona Fraser, producer and soprano soloist), gave us a performance of a very high standard and fully professional in all its elements, while conductor Michael Vinten and director Sara Brodie allowed their experience and their imaginations to invest Donizetti’s great opera with musical and acting delights.  It is worth noting that the sponsor of this enterprise was none other than Jeremy Commons, world expert on the operas of Donizetti.

In 1992 I attended this opera performed by Australian Opera in the Sydney Opera House.  It was notable that not only was the essay in the lavish printed programme written by Jeremy Commons, but three of the six principals (though not Elizabeth or Mary) were New Zealanders: Rodney Macann as Talbot, Anson Austin as Leicester (who was indisposed the night I attended) and Heather Begg as Anna.  A brief quotation from the essay sets the scene: “A beautiful and rewarding opera in itself – a fascinating study of two queens held apart by politics – a sensitive and moving representation of the final hours of one of the most unfortunate figures in British history – an intriguing window upon the theatrical world of its day – Maria Stuarda is all of these things.”

This choice constituted a departure for Days Bay Opera, whose previous productions have been of a lighter cast: The Marriage of Figaro, Journey to Rheims, and Alcina (which is not as light as the other two, but has a happy ending).

The change to an indoor venue in winter from a beautiful garden and watery view in summer is also major.  Sara Brodie used the building to great effect, its architectural features enhanced by lovely lighting, with action taking place in various parts, although predominantly at the sanctuary end, where the small orchestra was placed.  Action further back could not readily be seen by those near to the front; however, the acoustics are so fine that the sound could be heard anywhere.  The action in the central aisle and side aisles enabled other parts of the audience to see and hear well at different times.  The use made of the many points of entry into the church was imaginative; the coup de grace (coup de l’église?) was at the end, when Mary and her retinue walked the length of the nave and out the west door (to her execution).

There were no weak links in this production; the cast was very thoroughly rehearsed, knew their words well, and projected them more than adequately. I noticed that the soloists seldom looked at the conductor, yet they were spot on in entries and timing.  The English version used was that of Amanda Holden, who created it for English National Opera in 1998.  It was described by the Sunday Telegraph as ‘Amanda Holden’s racy new translation’.

The orchestra comprised eight players, plus a pair of trumpets that appear only in one short scene, ‘off-stage’ (out the side door, in fact), when Elizabeth arrives to meet Mary.  Vinten’s reduction of the score was masterly, with sufficient of both volume and content to render the music with enough variety of timbre and dynamics.  The five strings, flute, clarinet and piano all worked hard and played extremely well, with many wonderful moments.  Early on, I especially noticed beautiful playing from the clarinet.  The piano never intruded, but gave a firm base for the other players.  Later in the first Act there was winsome flute playing accompanying Mary and Anna.  A lovely prelude preceded Act II (Act III in most 20th century performances), full of foreboding and anticipation.

Costuming a period production can be an expensive business.  The solution here was to dress the characters mainly in modern dress, including lounge suits and ties for the men (although Elizabeth’s queenly robe, and her hunting costume deviated from the modern), apart from Mary Queen of Scots and her attendant Anna, who wore period costume.  Director Sara Brodie explained to me in the interval (which was deliciously lubricated with mulled wine) that this was to convey the idea that Mary and her court were in a ‘time-lock’, while the court of Elizabeth had moved on in time.

The cast was uniformly good. What a coup to have Paul Whelan as Talbot – a bass-baritone who sings in opera houses around the world!  While he was the principal singer in that register, he was not the leading soloist.

Lisa Harper-Brown played Queen Elizabeth I with great dignity and hauteur, her vocal coloration and facial expression always apt for the moment.  Her voice was rich and expressive.  Donizetti took her to both the top and the bottom of her range in quick time, but this seemed to present no problem.

In the first Act, she had a delightful lilting solo with pizzicato accompaniment.  Her Scene Two solo in the presence of Mary was delivered with a sense of foreboding, as Mary and Talbot intoned their reactions against the floating notes of Elizabeth; Anna joined in to make a gorgeous ensemble.  There was a slight lack of co-ordination, but considering the distance the singers were from each other, ensemble was very good, featuring masterly, controlled tone, while Mary’s soliloquy that followed was dramatic and agitated.

Ben Makisi sang Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester, with passion and to great dramatic effect.  His voice had full, ringing tones, producing (as always) lovely soft top notes; in the case of his duet with Elizabeth, these were unaccompanied.  The men’s duet that followed was full of drama, as was Elizabeth’s anger with Leicester. Makisi, of all the performers, managed to get a look in his eye that expressed his emotions and his objections to Elizabeth’s wishes (since his greater affection was for Mary).

Rhona Fraser’s singing as Mary Queen of Scots was magnificent.  I have heard her sing in each of the operas.  Here, her role was much larger, more dramatic and more difficult than those she had previously essayed, and she rose to the occasion superbly.  Her intonation was perfect, her runs thrilling, and her acting thoroughly in keeping with the role, as indeed was the acting of all the cast.  Her tirade against Elizabeth in the second Scene of Act I incorporated coloratura runs, +and was impressive, the voice ringing out strongly, but with no hint of forcing.  Again at the end of Act II there were superb coloratura passages, while Fraser’s low notes were dramatic and mellow, helping to bring the audience into the passion and drama.

The following duet between Leicester and Mary, in waltz time, revealed a wonderful bloom to Fraser’s voice, and how splendidly both singers used their resonators.

At the beginning of Act II there was a stunning duet between Makisi and Whelan, as they discuss plots against Elizabeth, their double lives, of service to Elizabeth, but their love for Mary, and in Talbot’s case, the fact that he was a clandestine Catholic. Whelan was at his best in the scene with Mary, his voice fully resonant in the sanctuary of the church.  Here, Mary had yet more beautiful period clothing.  Her solo with chorus, Talbot and Anna was mellifluous, enhanced by the acoustic.

Mary’s prayer was exquisitely sung, and Fraser’s facial expression conveyed tragic feeling.  The lighting contrasted the light and space of Elizabeth’s court of the first scene with the confined, darker castle at Fotheringay where Mary was imprisoned.  Presumably for this reason also, there was less movement in those scenes.

In the final scene, leading to the execution, the crew erected barriers to keep back the crowd.  The chorus began here rather weakly, but improved as they went on, though facial expressions were mostly too dead-pan.  Their placards read “Shame on England”, “We love you Mary” and other 21st century phrases; very telling.  Makisi was very strong here, and the chorus became more involved.

Clarissa Dunn was effective as Anna, Mary’s companion.  Her acting as the calm, comforting, dutiful servant was just right; her relatively small amount of singing revealed a very attractive voice, and good enunciation.  She acquitted herself well in the ensemble in the first Act with Mary and the soldiers, and again in the final scene.

The chorus was first heard behind the audience, in the gallery, making a great impact and their work, vocally, was consistently good.  Paul Whelan also first sang from behind where I was seated; he produced a magnificent sound, powerful and intense and projecting the words strongly. The brass and off-stage chorus were sonorously splendid as they announced Elizabeth’s arrival at Fotheringay Castle to visit Mary (historically, this never happened).

This opera features many duets and ensembles.  Early on, Elizabeth and Leicester  sing a tender duet that soon turns to fire; this was splendidly done – but so were all the ensembles.

Some aspects of the production were less convincing than others.  Both Elizabeth and Mary used the pulpit on occasion; the first time, it was Elizabeth, holding a dog, which she hands to Cecil (Matt Landreth, a cynical courtier who sang expressively, though with sometimes insufficient volume though at others, strongly) while she sings her first aria; this was excellent.  But the photographers doing a photo-shoot of Elizabeth in the first scene (complete with make-up brush) was perhaps a little OTT, especially the distracting flashes.  Elsewhere in the production had Elizabeth using a laptop, Cecil using a cellphone, but these features were not overdone.

The only slightly negative note was the appearance of the chorus.  Most had not memorised their music, which was perhaps understandable, but their scores were held at sundry angles, and in the last scene some of the chorus held protest placards as well, which added to the problem. More uniform handling of the scores would have improved the look. Nevertheless, the chorus shone vocally.

Here we had a team of individuals performing impeccably, both dramatically and vocally, conveying expertly Donizetti’s music and drama at his melodic, harmonic and rhythmic best.  Congratulations to all concerned with this stunning production – not forgetting the effective lighting.  Particular praise must go to the two female leads, who were outstanding, and to Rhona Fraser for producing a performance of such quality, with tension, drama and momentum maintained throughout the performance, with no dead spots.

The second and final performance is on Saturday, 18 August at 8pm.  Go if you possibly can!

 

 

Janet Gibbs delightful organ recital at Old St Paul’s

Posted on by Rosemary Collier

J.S. Bach: Toccata and Fugue in D minor, BWV 565
Chorale Prelude ‘Nun Komm, der Heiden Heiland’, BWV 659
Chorale and two variations ‘Sei Gegrüsset, Jesu Gütig’, BWV 768
Fantasia in G, BWV 572
Mendelssohn: Sonata no.6 – Chorale, Fugue, Finale
Christopher Tambling: Trumpet Tune
Ceremonial March

Janet Gibbs, organ

Old St. Paul’s

Tuesday, 7 August 2012, 12.15pm

Janet Gibbs chose a delightful programme that was a mix of the well-known, the lesser-known and the unknown.

Sitting quite close to the organ, I was aware of its quite strident sound, facing directly out to the auditorium as it does, rather than into the choir, or from a gallery, or from a side alcove as in most churches.  However, I soon became accustomed to this.  The great advantage in Old St. Paul’s is that one can see the organist at work, albeit necessarily a back view, whereas in so many cathedrals, Town Halls etc. the audience is remote from the performer and can see little or nothing.

Wellington City Council’s free winter Sunday afternoon recitals, begun for the hundredth birthday of the organ and continued for a number of years, sadly are no more.  There, they had the great idea of removing the rear panel from behind the organist, and relaying onto two large screens live video of the movements of hands and feet, interspersed with views of the inside of the organ.

The famous Bach Toccata and Fugue in D minor (shown as G minor in the printed programme) was taken at quite a fast pace compared with that of most renditions of this familiar work that I have heard.  However, this did not prove to be a problem either to the organist or to the hearers.  The fact that Janet Gibbs turned her own pages of music and changed her registrations herself made her performance even more impressive than it already was from the fine playing.

I thoroughly enjoyed hearing so much of Bach’s organ music.  The next piece ‘Nun Komm der Heiden Heiland’ was quite gorgeous in the way it developed from a quiet beginning, and opened out.  I found myself transported by the music in a manner different from that effected by any other composer.  I thought the lines of the chorale could do with just a little more phrasing to separate them from each other.  The registrations used was very appealing.

‘Sei Gegrüsset, Jesu Gütig’ is part of a much larger work, with 11 variations in total.

Janet Gibbs had a most pleasing choice of stops for the first variation; she showed this organ off well.  The second variation was much more full-bodied, with registration being closer to full organ, including more reed stops.  The varying moods were conveyed tellingly.

The wonderful Fantasia in G is in three distinct parts.  The lively opening section’s arpeggios could sound like a five-finger exercise, but with the right tempo and registration, as here, it is more like a spirited dance.  The second section I found a little too fast (it is marked ‘Grave’ in my Novello edition), but was very satisfying nonetheless.  The third section is difficult, but was brilliantly executed.

Mendelssohn wrote a number of fairly large-scale organ works, not all of which I find appealing.  But this Sonata, in the hands of Janet Gibbs, and on this organ, was different, and enjoyable.  She introduced it by saying that ‘You can’t get better than Bach’.  No-one knew that better than Mendelssohn, Bach’s great nineteenth-century rediscoverer.

Bach would surely have approved of his treatment of the Chorale.  Here, the separated notes in the pedal part were very skilfully managed.  The brilliant fugue was totally controlled, and enthralling, with the melody in the pedals while the hands performed scintillating arpeggios on the manuals.  The quiet final section sounded rather like the worst of nineteenth-century sentimentality by comparison with what had gone before.  A few pipes slightly out of tune did not help.  The change in tonality and ambience was not the fault of the registration; I’m sure Mendelssohn would have approved of that.

Christopher Tambling is an Englishman, Director of Music at Downside College in England.  Trumpet Tune was a delightful little piece, reminiscent of Jeremiah Clarke, and of the well-known Tuba Tune by New Zealand-born C.S. Lang who spent his career in England.  The second piece was a robust march in a traditional style.  The use of a 2-foot stop added piquancy, as did reeds, to a very effective piece of music, appropriate for finishing the recital.

Throughout the recital, Janet Gibbs’s foot-work was impeccable, and the use of the swell pedal was always judicious, never showy.  A few fluffs elsewhere did not spoil the enjoyment of a memorable recital. This was organ-playing of a very high standard indeed, and there was a good-sized audience to hear it, which is often not the case at organ recitals.

 

Australian Piano Trio delights Waikanae

Posted on by Rosemary Collier

The Streeton Piano Trio (Benjamin Kopp, piano; Emma Jardine, violin; Martin Smith, cello)
(Waikanae Music Society)

Schubert: Piano trio no.2 in E flat, D.929
Haydn: Piano trio in D, Hob XV/27
Ravel: Trio for piano, violin and cello

Waikanae Memorial Hall

Sunday, 5 August 2012, 2.30pm

Sunday’s programme was a good one; though all the works were familiar, they were contrasting in period of composition and in character.  The Streeton Trio (made up of Australians based in Berlin) gave the audience a broad spectrum of great works for piano trio.

Schubert’s glorious trio is always a delight to hear.  The Streeton Trio made a wonderful build-up of tension and played beautifully, apart from some low cello notes being off-pitch near the beginning.  However, things improved, to render the lyrical quality of the first movement in tender fashion. Worrisome bottom-string notes returned briefly – was the C string slightly out-of-tune?  I noticed that the cellist tuned it slightly after the second movement.  As the programme note states, the first movement is ‘in turn energetic and uplifting, restless and troubled’.  It was always interesting.

Between the first and second movements there was a surprise: the pianist spoke to the audience introducing the Swedish folk song on which the initial melody in the andante con moto second movement was based.  He and the violinist then played the song.  In the movement itself, the melody was played beautifully on the cello, and then decorated by the piano.

Piano and violin were lovely to hear, the pianist playing in a manner appropriate for the period.  The third movement, a sprightly scherzando, was many miles removed from the soulful music that preceded it.  There was delicacy, but muscular energy also; the mood was light and lovely.

I noted that the acoustic was not the best for Schubert’s music: the jolly opening of the fourth movement (allegro molto) brought forth a lively tone, but there were times when I wanted rather more mellowness.  The gorgeous melody from the second movement returned on the cello against pizzicato violin, and sublime passages followed.

Speaking of mellowness – the tweaking of programmes in the audience could be an irritant in quiet passages; a change to a better quality of paper might help to lessen this small problem.

An elegant, quick opening to the Haydn trio revealed the pianist’s ability to make the grand piano almost sound like a fortepiano.  His playing was always delightful and utterly sympathetic.

Sitting nearer to the front of the hall in the second half made, I found, a considerable difference to what I heard.  In the graceful introduction to the slow movement, played with rubato at the ends of the phrases, I could imagine myself in a late eighteenth- century drawing room, such was the intimacy conveyed.  The sparing use of the sustaining pedal, and of vibrato on the strings were part of this effect – but these features did not mean that there was any lack of warmth in the playing.

The fast dance that was the presto final movement had its jauntiness exploited to the full, yet it still had grace as well as jollity.

The Ravel Trio is often performed; when all the subtleties are brought out as in this performance, it is a pleasure to hear.  The sonorous opening was beautifully varied.  The tempi were well-managed, and we heard some superb playing here.  Again, the piano was outstanding.  The Streeton Trio has recorded both the Haydn and the Ravel works, so they know obviously them well.

The delightful grasshopper of the second movement, marked Pantoum (a form of Malay verse) assez vif, jumped, was at rest, and then flew.  The music was very well delineated, whether soft or loud.

The passacaglia third movement was, by contrast, solemn, almost liturgical and elegiac.  There was a steady conversation between the parts.  In the latter part of the movement, the use of mutes on the strings gave an ethereal effect, especially where the strings played without piano.  A sombre song on the cello followed; the piano ended the movement.

In the Finale (animé) the strings trilled harmonics while the piano played a quick passage, followed by solo violin with pizzicato on the cello.  Glissandi and grand chords for the piano were examples of the Spanish influences in Ravel’s music.  Plenty of contrast in dynamics featured, but overall there was a lightness of touch before the thrilling ending.

A musical treat was had by all who attended.

 

 

 

Exemplary concert by NZSM woodwind students at St Andrew’s

Posted on by Rosemary Collier

Pieces by Reinecke, Demersseman, Rachmaninov, John Elmsly, Mozart, Marlcolm Arnold, Poulenc and Jindřich Feld

NZSM Woodwind students: Lena Taylor (flute), Emma Hayes-Smith (alto saxophone), David McGregor (clarinet), Andreea Junc (flute), Hannah Sellars (clarinet), Reuben Chin (soprano saxophone) and NZSM Saxophone Quartet (Chin, Hayes-Smith, Katherine Macieszac (tenor sax)and Sam Jones(baritone sax))

St Andrew’s on The Terrace

Wednesday, 1 August 2012, 12.15pm

From one point of view, this was the best presentation yet by NZSM at St. Andrew’s: they made their introductions to the pieces to be played using the microphone, so every word could be heard – hooray!

It was a pity not to have any oboe or bassoon students performing, but those who played had secure techniques and obvious musical sensibilities.  All the accompanied pieces had Kirsten Simpson as piano accompanist; she performed her role impeccably, playing with appropriate refinement and panache as required, and never drowning her colleagues.

Most of the pieces were written for the instruments that played them, the exceptions being Rachmaninov’s famous Vocalise (written for voice) and the Poulenc work, which was an extract from a sonata for oboe and piano, played here on the soprano saxophone.  The Mozart work had piano substituting for orchestra.

Carl Reinecke(1824-1910) is heard quite often on radio, but I seldom hear his work played live.  His Ballade for flute and piano performed by Lena Taylor was quite enchanting in both the flute and the piano parts. The playing was very competent, and the players produced lovely variety of tone.

The Fantaisie for alto saxophone and piano by Jules Demersseman was introduced rather too rapidly (for a large venue) by Emma Hayes-Smith.  From Wikipedia I learn that the Belgian composer lived from 1833 to 1866; Emma informed us that the piece was one of the first to be written for saxophone.  The playing demonstrated how much more dynamic variation can be achieved on the saxophone than on the flute.  The very flexible performance brought out all the elements in what was quite a show piece.

The famous Vocalise sounded fine on the clarinet.  No name of an arranger was given.  David McGregor played well, and gave a very musical rendering of the popular piece, though his breathing was a little noisy.

Andreea Junc played a New Zealand composition: ‘Light and Shade’ from Three Doubles for solo flute, by John Elmsly.  This short piece used various modern techniques of flute-playing, and was very well played, following a very good spoken introduction.

A Mozart Andante for flute and piano was introduced by Natasha Taler as an alternative movement for the composer’s flute concerto in G; it appears(with orchestra)on my recording of the two flute concertos.  The soloist produced a lovely sound, and employed fine phrasing.  Perhaps the performance was a little pedantic and strict, and the piano did not make all the trills that are in the orchestral version I have.  Nevertheless, it was an admirable realisation.

Back to clarinet, with Hannah Sellars playing a movement by Malcolm Arnold.  This was a lively and spiky piece for both performers, with strong rhythm.  Its quirky ending finished an excellent performance.

Poulenc’s writing for winds is always delightful.  Reuben Chin’s somewhat quiet introduction to ‘Trés Calme’ from his Sonata for oboe and piano was very informative; apparently the sonata was commissioned by Prokofiev.  Just as Chin described it, the work was sombre and eloquent.  The contrast between the upper and lower registers was strong, and the range of dynamics large.  The playing was beautifully smooth.  There was a winsome tone in the high register, while the soft passages were most attractively played.

The last piece was a saxophone quartet by Jindřich Feld (the only composer honoured with a first name in the printed programme).  He was a Czech composer who was born in 1925 and died in 2007.  The final movement from his Quatuor de Saxophones was modern and unpredictable in style, yet melodic too.  There was always a lot going on, at considerable speed.  There were jazzy passages, plenty of light and shade, different moods, and variable dynamics.  Beautiful quiet chords at the end contributed to this being an excellent work with which to finish the concert.

A little information about the composers would have enhanced the printed programme, but it was good to see some notes from the Head of Woodwind, Deborah Rawson.

 

 

School of Music string ensemble brings lovely music to Upper Hutt

Posted on by Rosemary Collier

Mendelssohn: Symphony in C minor (two movements)
Dvořák: Serenade for Strings Op.22 (four movements)

New Zealand School of Music String Ensemble, conducted by Martin Riseley

Expressions, Upper Hutt

Tuesday, 24 July 2012, 1pm

This was a good-looking ensemble, all players were smartly dressed in black, hair just so, and all standing to play (except for the cellos), and an attractive programme had been chosen.  The ensemble comprised four first violins, four second violins, three violas, three cellos and one double bass; 12 women and three men.  Some of the audience seats were close to the players; people sensibly steered clear of the danger of sitting in those seats that might have resulted in their becoming bow-legged (aren’t cellists anyway?) from having a cello bow thrust into their legs.

The Mendelssohn work was written for strings alone, when the composer was only 12 years old, one of a number of works written in his childhood to which he never gave opus numbers.  Two movements were played: the short slow movement marked grave, and the allegro finale.

The players were all highly competent, and played well together.  There was a strong sound from them in this happy piece; an astonishing composition for a 12-year-old.

The violinists rearranged themselves for the second work.   The first movement, moderato, I thought was a little pedantic, and could have done with more phrasing – not to say that there was none.  However, things improved as the movement went along.  Like so much of  Dvořák’s output, this work is wonderfully cheerful and tuneful.  A serenade was originally a work played out-of-doors; one could imagine having this played while strolling in a garden, or while eating a meal outdoors on a warm evening.

The wooden floor and mainly wooden walls and ceiling in the large foyer space at Expressions made for a good sound on the whole, but sometimes it was somewhat harsh or shrill.  This effect may have depended on where one was sitting.

In the second and third movements, tempo di valse and scherzo, the slower passages were played with a rich timbre; the faster ones suffered from rather too frequent intonation discrepancies.  The lively, dry acoustic may have shown these up more than would be the case in some venues.  Nevertheless, I was surprised at their number.

However, there are some very fine players here, notably the leaders of each of the four main sections of the ensemble.

The final movement played (the fifth, allegro vivace) featured delightful cello and double bass pizzicato, which I’m not sure I had been sufficiently aware of before.  Sitting close to the cellos revealed how enchanting this part of the music was.

The last quiet section began rather out of kilter – no-one appeared to be watching the conductor.  The return of the robust main theme terminated the work happily.

The concert was well-attended; over 100 people came to hear the young musicians.