Splendid playing from NZSM students of New Zealand woodwind compositions

Woodwind Students of the New Zealand School of Music

Works by New Zealand composers

St. Andrew’s on The Terrace

Wednesday, 9 August 2017, 12.15 pm

Similarly to the crop of good string players from NZSM whom we heard at St. Andrew’s recently, so we now heard splendid woodwind players.  The range of works by New Zealand composers in this rather over-long concert was wide, but all were appealing, melodic and interesting.

I had never heard of the composer Eric Biddington, but his Sonatina for clarinet and piano, the 2nd movement of which was played by Laura Brown accompanied by Hugh McMillan was well worth hearing.  Unfortunately Laura’s misuse of the microphone meant I missed the detail about the composer from her spoken introduction.  The quality of the spoken introductions varied hugely through the concert; the best were very good.  Wikipedia was able to fill in the gaps about Biddington, and revealed the great number and variety of music this Christchurch composer has written over a considerable number of years.

The andante movement was relatively uncomplicated but attractive. The clarinet produced euphonious tones, and appealing pianissimos.

Flute was next, in the hands of Samantha McSweeney, who played two of the  unaccompanied Four Pooh Stories by Maria Grenfell.  The first, “In which Christopher Robin leads an expedition to the North Pole” was fun, darting here and there.  No.4 “In which a house is built at Pooh Corner” likewise scampered around through various pitches, the player exhibiting excellent phrasing.  These were demanding pieces; at times Samantha was almost playing a duet with herself, using different pitches and techniques.  It was a very skilled and accomplished performance.

Another composer I had not come across is Aucklander Chris Adams, whose Release for bassoon and piano was rearranged in 2011 from his violin and piano original.  It was played by Breanna Abbott with Kirsten Robertson.  I found it rather dull, especially the piano accompaniment, but the playing was fine.

Gillian Whitehead is a well-established composer.  Her Three Improvisations for solo oboe were taken by three different players: Annabel Lovatt, Finn Bodkin-Olen and Darcy Snell.  They were attractive little pieces, all beautifully played.  The second was more jaunty than the first, with fluency and character.  The third was somewhat plaintive, even sombre; it was sensitively performed.

Next was composer-performer Peter Liley, who played on alto saxophone his piece Petit Hommage.  In his excellent introduction he talked about the importance of Debussy’s music to him, and told us the piece was based on the pentatonic scale and the Lydian mode, both of which he helpfully demonstrated.  This was a pleasing short work, which began with a piano introduction from accompanist Kirsten Robertson.

Melody flowed up and down the saxophone.  The piece exploited a wide range of pitches, rhythms and dynamics, and the performer had splendid phrasing.

Back to the clarinet, and Harim Oh played “Vaygeshray”, one of Ross Harris’s Four Laments for solo clarinet, based on a Yiddish theme.  It was very playful, with a repetitive rhythm through much of the piece.  Quite demanding technically, the short, bouncy Lament was played with assurance.

An item inserted into the concert but not in the printed programme was a movement from Anthony Ritchie’s flute concerto, written in 1993 from former NZSO flutist Alexa Still.  It was accompanied by Hugh McMillan on piano.  There was plenty of interest in this music, and it received a fine performance from ‘Anna’ (surname not given).  It employed a variety of techniques, and the  whole received assured treatment.

The concert ended with the three movements of Douglas Lilburn’s Sonatina for clarinet and piano, played by three different performers with Hugh McMillan.  The moderato first movement played by Frank Talbot was varied in both clarinet and piano parts; quite solemn.  Frank appeared to have some slight technical problems with his instrument.  Billie Kiel had the andante con moto, which was well played, if rather prosaic musically.

Finally, the allegro was played by Leah Thomas after an excellent introduction – perhaps the best in the concert.  As she said, this was a dance-like movement.  It exploited particularly the lower notes of the instrument very well.  Flowing melodies and a sparkling accompaniment made for an enjoyable end to the music offered.

The programme encompassed a wide range of musical styles, showing that New Zealand music cannot be easily categorised.  With composition dates ranging between 1948 (Lilburn) and 2017 (Liley), we were given a rewarding conspectus of locally written music for woodwind.

 

 

Enthusiastic reception of nicely varied programme from Takács Quartet

Takács Quartet (Edward Dusinberre and Károly Schranz (violins), Geraldine Walther (viola), András Fejér (cello)
(Chamber Music New Zealand)

Haydn: String Quartet in D, Op.76 no.5
Anthony Ritchie: Whakatipua, Op. 71
Webern: Langsamer Satz
Dvořák: String Quartet no.14 in A flat, Op.105

Michael Fowler Centre

Friday, 4 August 2017, 7.30pm

My initial reaction at the concert was a longing for the Town Hall to be restored to use; chamber music does not sound nearly so well in the cavernous Michael Fowler Centre unless one is near the front, which I was not; it simply does not provide the resonance, and makes ‘chamber music’ a misnomer.

The concert began with vintage Haydn – musically, and chronologically, being written around 1797, (he was born in 1732) part of a set of six quartets.  Its performance immediately demonstrated the lovely cohesion of the players and their subtly varying dynamics.  This is the seventh visit of the world class quartet to New Zealand, but the first visit, I think, for violist Geraldine Walther.  The quartet was founded in Hungary in 1975, but for the larger part of its life has been based in Colorado, USA.  The only remaining original member is the cellist, András Fejér.

After quite a fast allegretto first movement, the placid and charming largo, cantabile e mesto impressed with its lyrically beautiful melodies and harmonies, a touch of melancholy pervading it here and there.  The warmth of tone of the members of the Takács was always apparent in their expressive playing.

The Menuetto and Trio (allegretto) were full of movement.  The higher strings carried the melody and harmony while the cello grunted away underneath in the Trio.  A return to the minuet brought sunnier, uncomplicated music

Chords opened the presto Finale dramatically, then interesting rapid themes with sprightly rhythms took hold.  A change of key added piquancy.  The whole performance was faultless, played with panache, and in an appropriate style.

Anthony Ritchie is an established New Zealand composer who writes in several different genres, always with musical interest, and not tied to any school such as minimalism, but always something worthwhile to say.

His Whakatipua was a musical depiction of Lake Wakatipu, and its town, Queenstown.  The dramatic scenery, the busy tourist town, and the gold rush history all found a place in his musical essay.  In the early part, there was juxtaposition of pizzicato against the bowed lower instruments that was most effective.  Cohesiveness of the instruments with each other was a feature.  Lightness and lift, along with the business-speak aspect of the town seemed to be features of the inspiration.

There was vigour aplenty in the piece.  The last section returned to a more serene depiction of the landscape, as at the beginning, and called forth an atmosphere of peace and calm, before the piece petered away on a high note.

If one heard only of Anton Webern’s works his Langsamer Satz, one would have no idea of his later atonal, twelve-tone music.  This piece began with a Romantic, mellow melody and accompaniment.  There followed a fine passage with pizzicato from the first violin while the other instruments were bowed.  The mellow, somewhat chromatic  music persisted, with its rather introspective mood.  Plaintive tones arose.  This was warm-toned, vibrato-aided playing, which gave the work a richness that contrasted with the classicism of Haydn and the relative austerity of Ritchie’s composition.

In places the music reminded me of Schönberg’s Transfigured Night, composed in 1899, six years before Webern’s piece.  The programme notes state that, after commencing study with Schönberg in 1904-05, Webern began ‘producing work of structural rigour and musical cohesion, uniting meticulous craft and profound emotional expression.’  These elements were apparent in this one-movement work as was the influence of Mahler, especially in the final part of the work, of which the notes use the word ‘transcendence’.  The clarity of the music was a delight, and the ending quite magical as well as satisfying.

The major work on the programme was the Dvořák String Quartet no.14, one of the composer’s many exhilarating, cheerful, melodic compositions.  The first movement starts with an adagio that is low and sombre, beginning on the cello, followed by viola then violins.  Then an allegro appassionato breaks forth energetically, with plenty of work for all the players to do.  Again we had demonstrated such accomplished playing; they made the music glow.

The Scherzo second movement was a lively Bohemian dance, followed by a gorgeous lyrical melody.  Lento e molto cantabile was the marking for the third movement, where a calmly beautiful theme was developed.  The quiet, pensive mood took on a more solemn character after a time.  As in the first movement, the two violins sing a song while the lower pitched instruments accompany, initially with pizzicato.  The movement has an ecstatic pianissimo ending.

The opening to the Finale was quite lovely, and the movement was full of sprightly Bohemian motifs.   The cheerful and optimistic mood carried on to the triumphant ending.

The audience received it all with much enthusiastic applause and cheers, and we were granted an encore: the spirited, fast last movement of Haydn’s quartet Op. 20, no.4.  It made for a jolly ending to a first-class concert and was received with delight.

 

 

Splendid Bartók; evocative New Zealand piece; guitarist substitution perhaps not a misfortune

New Zealand Symphony Orchestra, Alexander Shelley (conductor), with Pablo Sáinz Villegas (guitar)

Leonie Holmes: ‘Frond’ from Three Landscapes for Orchestra
Rodrigo: Concierto de Aranjuez
Bartók: Concerto for Orchestra

Michael Fowler Centre

Saturday, 29 July 2017, 7.30pm

The programme for the concert obviously did not appeal to everyone; there were a lot of empty seats, and even more after the interval when it became obvious that many devotees of the guitar, and of the Rodrigo work, did not wish to encounter Bartók, which was a great shame.  Not so tonight’s soloist, who joined the audience after the interval of this, the final concert of his tour.  He made apparent how much he had enjoyed working with the NZSO.

Leonie Holmes’s work was written in 2004, and recalls her feelings as a child in the bush.  It began with a tubular bell sounding, and a single violin, reminding me rather of a karakia.  Then piccolo was added, and strings entered quietly, followed by some of the brass, solo cello and piano.

Harp, celeste and percussion all had their moments, and there were extensive passages for solo and duet violins plus cello..  Xylophone and marimba both had important roles.  The piece ended in mid-air, with the piccolo.

I found the short piece (11 minutes) evocative and attractive; it was played with impeccable attention to detail.  It is worth noting here the important role played by Kirsten Robertson, as player of both piano and celeste.  She had to do a lot of moving between the two instruments – but the composer had spared her from having to play both at once!  Her playing was lucid and contributed a great deal to the work.

Since a considerably smaller orchestra was needed to be set up for the concerto, conductor Alexander Shelley took the chance to speak to the audience.  He spoke briefly but interestingly about each of the works on the programme.  He commented that our solo guitarist was ‘one of the best alive.’

Initially I was disappointed at the change of programme (due to the illness of the scheduled soloist) from a new guitar concerto by Howard Shore, of LOTR fame to the rather hackneyed Rodrigo concerto.  Not that I have heard it performed live, but it is programmed far too frequently on RNZ Concert.  The Shore was premiered in Canada quite recently, by the intended soloist for this concert, Miloš Karadaglić.  Wikipedia rates the Rodrigo as ‘easy listening’, and I daresay the work by the prolific film composer might well have been in the same category.

However, I tried to listen with fresh ears, and the delight of watching the orchestra, and even more the soloist in action soon charmed away any ennui.  To watch Villegas play was to be astonished; his fingers at times flew faster than the speed of light.

The concerto begins with an introduction from the soloist with flamenco-style strumming of chords, the strings of the orchestra playing spiccato beneath.  Very quickly we were introduced to the great range of dynamics this guitarist is able to produce from his instrument.  The memorable themes are repeated rather frequently.

The second movement opens with a most effective, wistful theme from cor anglais, accompanied by guitar.  This is repeated and varied.   The different timbres of the two instruments is most appealing.  Villegas produced a remarkable, soulful tone when using vibrato, and when playing pianissimo.  The final movement recalls courtly dances, but in a chirpy manner.  Strumming is interspersed with melodic use of individual strings, and includes a brilliant cadenza for the soloist.

The audience greeted the performance firstly with absolute silence through the playing, and secondly with enthusiastic applause at the end, many standing.  It was only then that it was pointed out to me that there were two microphones at the edge of the small podium on which the soloist was seated.  The amplification was very sensitively done, and not apparent through the performance; thanks to the composer very seldom having full orchestra and soloist playing together, it could have passed not being amplified in a smaller auditorium.  The MFC is rather too large for it to be the case here.

Our superb soloist then played quite an extended encore: a Jota, or Aragonese dance, made famous in orchestral circles by the Russian composer Mikhail Glinka’s Jota Aragonesa written in 1845.  I did not hear any composer mentioned for this one – was it the soloist’s own improvisation on a traditional dance theme?  It was electric; lively, and much fresher in character than the Rodrigo.  Its playing included some astonishing techniques, such as fingering notes with the left hand, which sounded, while the right hand was rapping the body of the instrument.  There were many variations incorporated.   An enraptured audience rose to cheer this astonishing performer.

Bartók’s Concerto for Orchestra is described by Wikipedia as one of his best-known, most popular and most accessible works.  It was also one of his last.  In five movements, it truly lives up to its name, highlighting different sections of the orchestra, constantly passing between sections to give wonderful variety and contrasts; probably more variety of this sort than any symphony in the canon.

The sombre opening of the Introduzione to the first movement is even ominous. Chromatic woodwind and incisive brass followed.  Two harps added to the variety of aural pleasures as the andante non troppo and allegro vivace sections of the movement proceeded.  Hungarian folk melodies appear – and elsewhere in the work.

The second movement, called (in Italian) ‘Game of couples’ (i.e. pairs of instruments), allegretto scherzando opened unusually with bassoon, along with percussion and soon other woodwind instruments.  The character was of a slightly lugubrious dance, followed by a brass choir playing a hymn-like sequence.  Still the side-drum kept tapping its irritating little rhythm, as if drawing attention to something more ominous that was about to happen.  There is much pizzicato for the lower strings.   Later, the movement is loud and passionate.

The third movement (Elegia) introduces many colours, while the humour is apparent in the fourth (Intermezzo interrotto), with syncopated strings and a raspberry from the tuba.

In the finale, there are fugal passages intermittently; one in which bassoons and clarinets feature prominently.  Harps had a brief moment to themselves before another fugal section, beginning  for strings only.  All was magnificently played.  A splashy, somewhat bombastic ending finished this work of many exotic and exciting sounds.  Certainly some passages could be regarded as discordant or atonal, but there is much that is cheerful, even humorous.  Yet other sections sound like traditional symphonies.  There were many opportunities for players to shine as soloists or sections and they were rewarded by the conductor walking around the orchestra giving individuals and groups their own separate bows to the applause.

The programme notes shall have the last word: “ Triumphant, fantastically detailed and unfailingly optimistic, this is the work of a composer at his very best”.

 

 

 

String student talents impressively exhibited at St Andrew’s lunchtime concert

String Students of the New Zealand School of Music

Brahms: Allegro from Violin Sonata no.3, Op.108
Debussy: Allegro vivo from Violin Sonata in G minor
Serge Koussevitzky: Chanson Triste
Beethoven: Allegro vivace from Violin Sonata, Op.12 no.2
Dubois: Andante cantabile
Nikolai Kapustin [not Kasputin as printed in the programme]: Sonata 1

Charlotte Lamb, Sophie Tarrant-Matthews, Patrick Hayes, Claudia Tarrant-Matthews (violins), Hugh McMillan, Claudia Tarrant-Matthews, Sophie Tarrant-Matthews (piano), Jandee Song (bass), Sam Berkahn (cello)

St. Andrew’s on The Terrace

Wednesday, 26 July 2017, 12.15 pm

This was, on the whole, an impressive line-up of young string players.  They are presumably at different stages in their studies (in other years the printed programme for such concerts has shown which year each player was, which was helpful in appreciating their level of skill).

The Brahms sonata is one of his most elegiac pieces.  However, the tone of Charlotte Lamb’s violin being a little harsh didn’t match this character.  She was competent technically, although occasionally intonation was a little suspect.  This being a Romantic sonata, it could have done with more vibrato.  Phrasing and dynamics were fine.  Hugh McMillan played piano sympathetically for this work, and for all except the Tarrant-Matthews collaborations, i.e. the Debussy and the Kapustin.

The Debussy was quite a contrast, with its slow introduction.  Sophie Tarrant-Matthews played her violin with good tone and excellent articulation.  The misty, dreamy movement had a wonderful piano part that seemed to be an equal partner with the violin.  The players were in complete accord in approach and performance – being sisters must help in these matters.

One thinks of Koussevitzky as a composer of very lively music; the piece for bass and piano was quite different.  It was a solemn, rather slow piece, played from memory by its diminutive performer.  Jandee Song’s tone was not large, but this suited the piece; her performance was pleasing.

The Beethoven movement was quite short.  Patrick Hayes obviously knew it well; he seldom looked at his score.  He produced attractive tone and made the music rhythmically lively.  The sudden ending to this bright piece amused the audience.

Sam Berkahn made great work of his soulful Dubois piece, which he played with great accuracy and clarity.  His intonation was virtually impeccable, and he produced splendid tone and good volume.  He made the most of the lyricism in the work, and appeared to be the master of his instrument and its possibilities.

The Tarrant-Matthews sisters reversed roles for the Kapustin sonata, and proved to be equally as competent on both instruments.  Nikolai Kapustin was born in Ukraine in 1937, but studied music in Moscow, and is usually referred to as a Russian composer.  Wikipedia says “During the 1950s he acquired a reputation as a jazz pianist, arranger and composer. He is steeped, therefore, in both the traditions of classical virtuoso pianism and improvisational jazz.”

These characteristics were certainly to the fore in the sonata.  Jazzy as it was, these two performers were thoroughly in control of it.  Claudia Tarrant-Matthews obtained a full tone from her instrument.  Off-beat rhythms and plenty of double-stopping were strong features.  This was a difficult work, not least rhythmically, and it was carried off with élan by two very able musicians, ending a varied and interesting concert.

Kapiti Chamber Choir with the Romantic Triangle: Brahms, Clara Schumann, Robert Schumann

Brahms: Motet – Warum ist das Licht gegeben dem Mühseligen
Hungarian Dance WoO1/1
Liebeslieder Walzer, Op.52
Clara Schumann: Drei Gemischte Chöre
Robert Schumann: Requiem, Op.148

Kapiti Chamber Choir conducted by Eric Sidoti, with Jennifer Scarlet and Kay Cox (piano), Heather Easting (organ), Karyn Andreassend (soprano), Elisabeth Harris (mezzo), Jamie Young (tenor), Simon Christie (bass)

St. Paul’s Church, Paraparaumu

Sunday, 9 July 2017, 2.30pm

As I observed of the last Kapiti Chamber choir concert I reviewed  (three years ago), none of the choral items in the first half was an easy sing, and most  were unaccompanied.  Good observation of dynamics was a significant feature throughout the concert.  The items were sung in the original German language except the Requiem, which was in Latin.  English translations were printed in the programme.

Before the concert began, the  choir’s chairman paid tribute, this being its 25th jubilee year, to Paddy Nash, who, Lyall Perris said, had persuaded Professor Peter Godfrey to form the choir and conduct it.  Paddy had been an almost one-person administrator for a considerable period of the 25 years.

The first item was the first part only of Brahms’s motet.  Sung unaccompanied, it began with a good attack and spot-on intonation.  However, this happy situation did not last.  The motets of Brahms are difficult, with shifting tonalities and unexpected intervals. It was rather a lacrymose opener, talking about misery and those who ‘…are glad when they find the grave’.

Clara Schumann’s Three Mixed Voice Choruses (Abendfeier in Venedig; Vorwärts; Gondoliera) were composed as a surprise gift for her husband Robert on his 38th birthday. They were being sung for the first time in New Zealand, according to conductor Eric Sidoti’s introductory remarks.  Though they were written in 1848, they were unpublished until 1989.  They too were unaccompanied.  The words of the first two, and translation of the third (from the English of Thomas Moore) were by Emanuel von Geibel.  It is less than two weeks since I reviewed a concert in which the poet’s songs translated from the Spanish set by Robert Schumann were performed.

The first was ‘Abendfeir in Venedig’ (Evening in Venice). The singing revealed lovely tone at the opening, especially from the sopranos and the male voice parts, in piano and pianissimo singing.  However, the blend among the altos was not so good, with one strident voice obvious at times.  Descending phrases sometimes fell too far.

The second song, ‘Vorwärts’ (Forward) was more jolly and faster than the first, and demonstrated the fine choral writing of the composer.  Here, attention to the words needed to be more precise than with the slower music; it was not always.

The tuning became more problematic in the third song, ‘Gondoliera’, which was a pity, for this lovely love song.

Brahms’s Hungarian Dances are well-known, and usually heard in their orchestral versions.  However, they were originally written as piano duets, and that is how we heard the first one today.  (I played another of the set in this form in my teenage years.)  The duettists performed it very competently, and in perfect accord with each other.  The character of the gypsy dance was well conveyed.

The same composer’s Liebeslieder Walzer are a collection of love songs in folk-song style.  I have never heard the whole set of 18 Op. 52 songs performed together before.  Here again, the piano duettists were absolutely splendid.

I believe that programme notes taken straight from Google should be acknowledged.  Yes, if they are from Wikipedia copyright is not a problem, though some online sources are copyright.  But they should have been acknowledged especially when the printed piece is word-for word from the original source.

The first of the 18 songs of the Liebeslieder Walzer was ‘Abendfeir in Venedig’ (Evening in Venice). The men needed a little more clarity, and accuracy in singing intervals.  The third song was about women ‘…how they melt one with bliss!’.  It was a fine duet from Jamie Young and Simon Christie, although it lacked some of the lightness implied by the words “I would have become a monk long ago if it were not for women!’

The women soloists followed; their voices were well matched; dynamics were excellent, and the men’s tone was good when they joined in.

One of the songs with which I was familiar, was about a small, pretty bird.  Tenors opened each verse, a little weakly, then the excellent basses joined in.

After a delightful solo from Karyn Andreassend, the choir returned with a lovely song in a swinging folk-song rhythm, ‘When your eyes look at me’.

The song to the locksmith was a great exclamation, about locking up evil mouths.  Men had their turn (with Simon Christie helping out in the choir here, and in some other songs), in a brief song about the waves and the moon.  It was admirable that the choir endeavoured to express a different character for each song.

Perhaps singing the entire set was a strain on the concentration – not all the songs command attention.  Nevertheless, it was a splendid effort.

Schumann’s Requiem is problematical.  Why is it almost never performed?  The answer is apparent in the music.  It has not the variety of musical expression or invention of those great Requiems that are performed regularly: those by Mozart, Brahms, Fauré, Dvořák, Verdi, Bruckner, or more recently, John Rutter.  Its dreary ambience is little relieved, in the way that those of the other composers is.  Although written in 1852, towards the end of the composer’s fore-shortened life, it was not published for some years, edited by his widow, Clara.

It is scored for orchestra, but some recordings exist with piano accompaniment; here we had a digital organ; it was a pity not to have a pipe organ available to give fuller tones and more nearly approximate orchestral sound.  Nevertheless, Heather Easting did a superb job, and it was notable how much more accurately the choir sang with a strong accompaniment.

A slow, subdued entry introduced the hymn-like ‘Requiem Aeternam’.  It was effective, despite its rather restricted harmonic language.  By contrast, ‘Te Decet Hymnus’ was declamatory, and utilised both the splendid soloists and the choir.  This was strong singing.  The ‘Dies Irae’ was solemn and grand, and featured much chromatic writing, and similar chords on the organ.

‘Liber Scriptus’ began with the choir, then the soloists entered one by one. Here, their voices really shone; a very fine performance from all four.  ‘Qui Mariam’ Featured excellent singing from the choir, and particularly from soloist Elisabeth Harris.  The movement ended with gorgeous quiet singing from the choir ‘…dona eis requiem’.

Declamation returned with ‘Domine Jesu Christe’, then Karyn Andreassend and Elisabeth Harris plus choir sang ‘Hostias’.  I couldn’t help but think of the wonderful ‘Hostias’ in Mozart’s work: so full of exaltation, positivity and musical invention.  Here again the choir showed admirable variation of dynamics, giving the music interest.

The final movement, ‘Benedictus and Agnus Dei’ started interestingly with the quartet of soloists unaccompanied, and organ chords in between their phrases; the final lines were grand and portentous.

Summing up: the work was tedious in places and lacking in musical invention.  However, soloists and choir made the best of it, and mostly succeeded in providing a good performance.

 

Rich and diverting recital of songs by Takiri vocal quartet and piano at Waikanae

Waikanae Music Society
Takiri Ensemble: Anna Leese Guidi (soprano), Maaike Christie-Beekman (mezzo), Cameron Barclay (tenor). Robert Tucker (baritone), Kirsten Robertson (piano)

Schubert: Songs from Schwanengesang;
Songs and ensembles by Fauré, Ravel, Somervell, Quilter, Vaughan Williams

Waikanae Memorial Hall

Sunday, 2 July 2017, 2.30pm

The reviewing of this concert was shared by Rosemary Collier and Lindis Taylor.
First part: Rosemary Collier 

Two years ago the ensemble sang for the Waikanae Music Society; on that occasion the mezzo was Bianca Andrew and the tenor Andrew Glover.  That programme also began with a bracket of well-known Schubert lieder, then progressed to Schumann (I’m embarrassed to say his songs were the Spanische Liebeslieder, which in a very recent review of another ensemble I said I was unfamiliar with).  The programme continued with New Zealand composers, then Britten and Vaughan Williams.

Our present concert followed a similar structure, but no New Zealand composers were performed.

While some of the songs were in a sad mood, many were not, so I was sorry to see the women of the ensemble dressed entirely in black.  However, the singers conveyed the moods of the songs very well, and not necessarily in sombre fashion (some connection with a certain sports event?).

Anna Leese Guidi opened the programme (and was the only one to sing her solos without a score), with the first of the Schwanengesang songs: Liebesbotschaft, with a beautifully rustling brook from Kirsten Robertson on piano.  What a gorgeous voice this soprano has!  It seemed to me that her voice has more shine that it used to have.  Her dynamics were subtle, and the words beautifully expressed and shaded.

Frühlingsehnsucht was sung by Cameron Barclay.  He sings with a splendid, forward tone, energy and urgency.  His singing of the repeated word ‘Warum’ had real feeling.   Ständchen is one of the composer’s best-known songs, and Maaike Christie-Beekman’s singing of it was simply lovely.  It was sung slower than I have usually heard it, but was none the worse for that.  It was interesting that the superb accompaniments from Kirsten Robertson were all played with the piano lid on the short stick, even the quartets, whereas at the recital I attended on Wednesday, the lid was on the long stick.

A quicker song was Abschied, sung by the tenor; he had a tendency sometimes to slip off, or onto, the note.  It was followed by Der Atlas, was sung by Robert Tucker very dramatically with a strong, rich sound and excellent words.  This is a demanding declamatory song.  An uncertainty about one entry was resolved without breakdown between himself and his accompanist.

Das Fischermädchen was a charming song in the capable hands of Maaike Christie-Beekman, while Robert Tucker gave a very accomplished rendition of Der Doppelgänger.  He treated the text with due solemnity, intensity and emotion not to mention a wide range of dynamics.  Finally we had Die Taubenpost, sung deliciously by Anna Leese Guidi; a light and bright song to end the cycle.

Next were three ensemble song by the same composer.  Der Tanz was performed by quartet; a jolly piece, followed by a duet from Leese and Barclay: Licht und Liebe.  It was very appealing – calm and thoroughly pleasant, and beautifully sung.  Last in this half was another quartet: Gebet.  It was rather Ländler-like (folk-song).  Each singer entered in turn, with a little solo passage, the quartet demonstrating excellent blend.

The large audience thoroughly enjoyed the Schubert, and hearing four voices of character and accomplishment.

Second part: reviewed by Lindis Taylor
The second half of the concert was devoted to non-Schubert, French and English songs.

Before the concert I had rather expected a group of real French songs by Debussy, Duparc, Fauré, Berlioz, Poulenc, Ravel and so on. But the French offerings were limited, arrangements, and outweighed by English.

It opened with a Fauré song: Lydia, the poem by Leconte de Lisle, one of Fauré’s earliest, Opus 2. I hadn’t come across the poem either in collections of French poetry or among Fauré’s songs.

It had been arranged by the pianist Kirsten Robertson, for all four voices. Kirsten spoke engagingly about the song and its transformation. She also remarked on Fauré’s using the title as a reference to the Lydian mode – the ancient Greek mode that amounts to a scale on the white notes beginning on F.

This may have been in sympathy with the poetic movement led by De Lisle called les Parnassiens, who rejected romanticism and personal emotion, returning to the notion of ‘art for art’s sake’ in the literature of classical antiquity.

So, this was a song that was cool in character, treating a classical theme of love culminating in death.

As I’ve written before, I have misgivings about arrangements but, as before,  I have finished up being surprised at having so enjoyed them. This was the case here too. Nothing about it detracted from its essential Fauré-esque quality, on either the vocal line or its harmonies.

As earlier, Anna Leese Guidi’s voice contributing descant passages, stood out in the second stanza, perhaps outshining the others at times, but what could she do about that?

The other Fauré song was a duet, Pleurs d’or (Tears of gold), a setting of a poem by a much more obscure poet, Albert Samain, and again not a song I knew. It was sung by the two women (though I’ve now encountered it by soprano and baritone). I confess, not my sort of poem and perhaps that’s why Samain isn’t up there with Baudelaire and Verlaine. Their voices were attractively contrasted and the piano rippled unobtrusively under them.

The next song was a real curiosity – an arrangement by English baritone and composer Roderick Williams of the second movement of Ravel’s piano concerto in G. It proved a singularly lovely candidate for such an arrangement: the original was for eight voices and several French verses, which the programme did not identify; the vocal part was based on the orchestral score while the piano solo served as the accompaniment. The effect was more than a little entrancing, though I suspect eight voices would have been even better.

Then France was abandoned (as the British seem wont to do) and we heard a song by one Arthur Somervell to Twist me a Crown of Wild Flowers, a poem by Christina Rossetti who was associated, with her brother Dante Gabriel Rossetti with the Pre-Raphaelites, that somewhat effete brotherhood of writers and artists that included Holman Hunt, Millais, Burne-Jones, Waterhouse, William Morris, Ruskin, Swinburne and so on… It was a rather charming, languid song, sung by all four.

Roger Quilter came second to Schubert in the number of his songs (six) in the recital. Shelley’s Love’s Philosophy sung by Anna alone, her brilliant top handled the setting admirably. And then Tennyson’s Now Sleeps the Crimson Petal, offered mezzo Maaike a contrasting song, handling the more subdued music very sensitively.

Quilter himself wrote the words for the next song, Summer Sunset, and the two men sang it, a harmless, sleepy piece in which the two found a happy accord.

The poem by one Norah Hopper, Blossom Time, was for the two women, a feather-light song, rather melancholy perhaps, but occasionally, Quilter goes a bit deeper than he is wont to do. And those moments were arresting.

Cameron Barclay alone sang an anonymous song, Weep you no more, Sad Fountains, which I thought didn’t do him any favours, as it drew attention to a certain inability to project characterfully.

Finally another anonymous 16th century song: Fair House of Joy where Robert Tucker suddenly revealed a stronger and more colourful voice than I’d been hearing earlier. Perhaps because the song plumbs rather greater depths and it drew a more dramatic strain, fuller, and well projected.

The concert ended with a song that was arranged by Robert specifically for the ensemble: Vaughan Williams’s, Silent Noon, a sonnet by the above-mentioned Dante Gabriel Rossetti (interestingly, originally written in Italian). Appropriately, this very well loved song was for the full complement, each voice taking its turn at the beginning, but soon the four voices came together, and here was truly exposed the strengths of a quartet of professional voices, and compelling admiration for the arrangement. In response to the audience reception the quartet sang Vaughan Williams’s Linden Lea: these two great songs establishing the real qualities of the English song tradition.

 

Schumann song programme – solos, duets, quartets – everything admirable except the relentless clapping

Songbook: Schumann in Spain

Imogen Thirlwall (soprano), Jess Segal (mezzo), Declan Cudd (tenor), Daniel O’Connor (baritone), Catherine Norton (piano), Fiona McCabe (piano)

Songs for soloists and ensembles by Robert Schuman

Adam Concert Room, New Zealand School of Music

Wednesday 28 June 2017, 7:30 pm

A single song and two cycles of songs were performed to a small but appreciative audience; it was marvellous to have an all-Schumann concert.  After applause following the first ‘stand-alone’ song, the audience then applauded after virtually every song in the cycles; frustration at this breaking up of the continuity of the cycles showed at times in accompanist Catherine Norton’s body language.

The first song, ‘Der Hidalgo’ was appropriately a love song sung by the baritone, posing as a swashbuckling young Spanish man; appropriate, because it was written on the day in 1840 when the court ruled that Robert could marry Clara Wieck, despite her father’s objections.  Daniel O’Connor sang it very expressively, in excellent German.  His voice was strong, with attractive tone.

I was a little surprised to see that the piano lid was on the long stick, given that the room is not large, and the floor is of polished wood.  However, despite finding it a little too loud in the first song, it did not bother me later – either I adapted, or the pianist did!  However, I did frequently find the singers too loud; they must adapt their volume for each venue in which they are singing.  I began to long for some pianissimo.

The Spanisches Liederspiel  Op. 74 is the first of Robert Schumann’s two song cycles based on Spanish folksongs, and, like the second (Spanisches Liebeslieder, Opus 138), it was drawn from a collection of German translations of Spanish poets by Emanuel Geibel.  Like the second cycle, it combines songs for solo voices with duets and quartets.  Both were written in 1849.  I was not familiar with any of these wonderful songs, and it was great to hear duets and other vocal ensembles, which we very seldom do.

The first cycle began with ‘First meeting’ (I give the titles in English.  The songs were sung in German; English translations were printed in the programme).  It was a lovely duet for the two women.   Their voices were well-matched, and their singing was always together, in impeccable German.  Appropriate, given the song was about a young man by a rosebush, there was a vase of flowers on a small table next to the singers’ seats.

Next was ‘Intermezzo’, a duet for the two men.  Their tone was attractive, and their vowels were beautifully matched, as they demanded the girl come, even through the deep river.

The women returned for a gorgeous duet: ‘Love-sorrow’.    Scores were used by all the singers, but it was a pity that most of the time, heads were buried in them; only Declan Cudd looked up at the audience more than just occasionally.  Next was a song that began as a solo by Imogen Thirlwall: ‘In the night’, and it was here that I began to find the singing a little to loud for the space.  The tenor joined in after being seated at first.  There were several items with this kind of, shall we say, choreography, which was very effective.

After a quartet, Imogen returned to sing ‘Melancholy’.  As throughout the recital with all the singers, the German language was clear and with excellent pronunciation.  Her projection and expression were both fine.  A melodious duet, ‘Message’ from the women followed, then ‘I am loved’ was a very jolly, sprightly offering from the quartet; a change from the character of most of the earlier songs.  Appealing harmony, some of it quite complex, had the singers nevertheless all absolutely spot-on together.

Two gypsy songs completed the set, both entitled ‘Little gypsy song’.  The first was from Daniel O’Connor, who sang very directly and strongly about how he was dragged from his dungeon, but fired the first shot himself.  Jess Segal followed with a quite different character, and a sad ending.  Throughout, Catherine Norton’s accompaniments were splendid.

The second cycle was lighter in tone, even amusing at times.  It began with a piano duet Prelude.  The two pianists proved to be good duettists (a genre I don’t always enjoy) – they were absolutely together, which is not always the case with two pianists accustomed to playing on their own.  All the songs were accompanied in this way, played with impeccable taste, dynamics and musicality.

Imogen Thirlwall gave a good rendition of ‘Deep within my heart’, in suitably doleful tones.  She was followed by the tenor ‘O how lovely the maiden is’, sung forcefully with excellent expression of the words, for example ‘Tell me, proud knight, you who walk in shining armour’ and ‘Tell me, shepherd lad, you who tend your flock… whether the meadows, or even the mountains could be as beautiful’.

The women sang ‘Cover me with flowers’.  The poem talks about death and the grave; surely some pianissimo would have been appropriate here?

‘Flood-rich Ebro’ (river) was sung by the baritone; one could hear the river bubbling by, in the accompaniment.  This was followed by a piano duet ‘Intermezzo’, which had a lively, bouncy character in the first part, then a quieter, more thoughtful last section.

Declan Cudd’s singing of ‘Alas, how angry the girl is!’ was delightful; he expressed the words in an innocent , piquant manner, which he conveyed well, by looking frequently at the audience.  ‘High, high are the mountains’ was Jess Segal’s next contribution, then the men sang ‘Blue eyes the girl has’ (though I prefer the translation ‘maiden’).  This slightly mocking song was sung with masterful timing.

Finally, there was a very effective quartet ‘Dark radiance’, that portrayed the opposing emotions of love, ‘peace and war within a single heart’.  It made a thematically appropriate end to the cycle, and the recital, which was pleasantly out-of-the-ordinary.

It was pleasing to have a programme printed in a large enough typeface to be read easily, and it was planned so that there was no need to turn pages during individual songs.  It would have been enhanced by a few programme notes.

 

Ron Newton plays for St James 2017 Sunday Organ Series

St. James’s Church and Wellington Organists Association

Ron Newton (organ)

John Baptiste Calkin: Festal March in C
Mendelssohn: Sonata no. 2
Edvard Grieg: Holberg Suite – Sarabande, Air and Gavotte
J.S. Bach: Prelude and Fugue in F minor, BWV 534
Vaughan Williams: Rhosymedre
Eugène Gigout: Toccata in B minor

St. James Church, Lower Hutt

Sunday 25 June 2017, 3pm

Dr Ron Newton, as well as being an organist, is an organ builder and travels throughout the country working on organs

English composer John Baptiste Calkin (1827 – 1905) is not often heard of these days.  He wrote a lot of church and organ music.  I found his march rather undistinguished, though obviously written for a time when organ music was often symphonic in nature (and often being transcriptions of symphonic works), the prevalence of symphony orchestras being much smaller than it is now in England.

Mendelssohn published his organ sonatas in 1845.  He was 36 years old, and reputed to be a fine organist.  However, while a great admirer of his music in general, I have never warmed to his organ sonatas; I find them the least good of his great output.  They are not in standard sonata form, the harmonies seem conventional, and the works lack the spark of humour or lightness to be found in many of his compositions.

Indeed, on the way home from the recital, my car radio played his wonderfully melodic, uplifting and exciting Octet, written when he was only 16.  Maybe the age at which he wrote the sonatas is the difference – though he could not know that he had only a couple more years of life after the sonatas were published.

Ron Newton employed some excellent registrations, especially in the slow third movement.  In the last movement there was some extremely fancy foot work, and much changing of stops (or tabs in the case of this organ) towards the end.

The printed programme did not give composers’ dates, and suffered from a number of inaccuracies.  The next composer performed was not Edward Greig; the spellings are as above.  The name of the arranger of the Holberg Suite, originally written for string orchestra, was not given; I find from Google that there have been several who have arranged it for organ.  The same comment as given above for the reasons for arrangements of orchestral works for organ does probably not apply here; the  arrangements I found on Google were recent ones.  The subtlety and mellowness of the original strings did not come through on this organ.

However, much technical expertise was required in executing the pieces, swapping from one manual to another for different sound effects.  The pedal stops chosen seemed too woolly in their effect compared with the sounds from the manuals.  The clarity of the upper parts in the Air was spoilt by the muddy bass.  The Gavotte was taken rather faster than in the string orchestra originals that I have heard, both live and in recordings.  It is a dance – the dancers would have had to move astonishingly fast to dance at this pace.

The  Bach Prelude was, again, a little fast compared with recordings I have of the work.  I suspect that this could be due to the quick touch of the keys on St. James’s modern organ.  The registrations were splendid, as was the pace of the Fugue.

Vaughan Williams wrote his study on the Welsh hymn tune ‘Rhosymedre’ in 1911.  Newton’s performance brought out the hymn tune well – sometimes to the detriment of the lovely accompanying parts.

The final piece was a short Toccata by Eugène Gigout (not Edouard as in the printed programme).  He lived from 1844 to 1925.  Like Grieg’s work this was written in an earlier style.  It had a lot going on, and was both dramatic and showy – hardly like the eighteenth century style Gigout purported to be writing in.  It ended a concert of variety, that showed off both organ and organist, to a sizeable audience.

 

Excellent and interesting mix of Mozart quintet and Respighi song

Karori Classics:
Anna van der Zee, Anne Loeser (violins), Christiaan van der Zee (viola), Sophia Acheson (viola; Mozart only), Ken Ichinose (cello), Maaike Christie-Beekman (mezzo-soprano; Respighi)

Respighi: Il Tramonto (The Sunset)
Mozart: String Quintet in C, K.515

St. Mary’s Anglican Church, Karori

Friday 23 June 2017, 7pm

The sun had well and truly set before I made my way to Karori through cold southerly rain and wind for a charity concert in the series organised by Christiaan van der Zee and others.  The regular Friday evening concerts in winter have usually been in St. Ninian’s Church; the change of venue brought a quite different acoustic.  This church has a vaulted timber ceiling and plastered walls, producing a clear, direct sound.  There was no difficulty in hearing every note clearly from the back of the church.  The strings sounded bright, and every sung note could be heard, even if pianissimo.  It was great to have professional musicians performing; I imagine that this acoustic could be unkind to less competent players.

I did not know the Respighi work at all.  It is a 1914 setting for string quartet and soprano of an Italian translation of a poem, The Sunset by English poet Percy Bysshe Shelley.  The English words were displayed progressively on two screens mounted on pillars in the church.  The entry in Google speaks of the work’s “musical poeticism and its intense expressiveness”, with which I totally agree.  It proved to be an utterly suitable vehicle for Maaike Christie-Beekman’s fine voice and her subtle colouring; she was as convincing in the dramatic moments as in the meltingly romantic ones.

Respighi’s music is Romantic in style, suited to the poet’s words.  The poem concerns a young woman who finds her young lover dead after their night of love and sleep.  Like most of the composer’s music, the movements in France, Germany and elsewhere to changed musical languages were ignored.  The music was played superbly by the quartet, supporting and enhancing the splendid singing; a range of emotions was depicted.

The Mozart quintet exposed the lovely music of the composer in all its glittering detail.  Dynamics were subtle and through their infinite variety, commanded attention to the music.  In the glorious, long allegro first movement, constant rising figures give a positive feeling.  The robust second movement, Minuet (allegretto) and Trio yet contained many moments of delicacy.   Mozart’s constant invention of charming and mellifluous ideas is astonishing.  The slow movement, being andante, is more sombre, but in a calm way, with themes in the minor key (the principal key being F major), the interplay of instruments, all making a beautiful sound, was a delight.

The allegro final movement featured a return of the rising chords and cadences of the first movement.  This fast finale engendered a cheerful mood.  A delicate but bright ending brought to a close an hour of accomplished and enjoyable music-making.  The audience was rather more slender than those at previous concerts in the series that I have attended, probably due to the bad weather.

 

 

Festival Singers – an entertaining but mixed operatic bag at Waiwhetu

Festival Singers present:
SUNDAY AT THE OPERA
Music by Wagner, Gounod, Puccini, Verdi, Donizetti, Rossini, Massenet, Batiste, Delibes, d’Andrea, Mascagni and Lloyd Webber

Festival Singers conducted by Jonathan Berkahn, with Barbara Paterson (soprano), Heather Easting (organ), Thomas Nikora (piano) and The Festival Strings

Waiwhetu Uniting Church, Lower Hutt

Sunday, 18 June 2017

It was a splendid idea for a concert:  Perform sacred works, or quasi-religious works, by some of the great opera composers. Vary it with instrumental pieces, including some for strings, and a soloist or two. Introduce the items in informative and amusing, but brief, words.

The formula was fine, but the performances did not always live up to the promise.

Using an electronic organ, sometimes with piano, to accompany the pieces suffered from the unregenerate organ at this church; it produced a rather woolly sound, particularly in the lower registers. It completely lacked resonance – its two speakers at the back of the church being inadequate to convey much definition of tone, the sound being too confined.

This would not have assisted the choir in picking its pitches; much of the time the choir sounded insecure, and intonation was variable, especially on higher notes.

The first piece was a chorus from Die Meistersinger by Richard Wagner. The choir began with good attack, but here and elsewhere blend was not good: too many individual voices could be heard. The German language was pronounced very well.

Verdi’s ‘Ave Maria’ from his Four Sacred Pieces was next. Berkahn explained the unusual scale on which it was based. It is certainly a very difficult piece, and the choir did not really bring it off. The tone of the singers was not consistent, and pitch was often not on the spot.

The much plainer Ave verum corpus by Gounod was easier to handle. It was conducted by Barbara Paterson (her conducting debut). The humming in the early part was very good. Next was the same composer’s ‘Agnus Dei’ from his St. Cecilia Mass. Latin pronunciation was not quite up to the level of the earlier German. A good tenor soloist featured in this piece, and the choir’s balance was good, but soloist Barbara Paterson’s strong vibrato was too much for a piece like this.

Variety was introduced by the string quartet plus piano (The Festival Strings, not named in the printed programme, though Jonathan Berkahn did introduce them by their names. He, incidentally, was the pianist.). They played Massenet’s well-known ‘Mediation’ from his opera Thais. It was beautifully performed, particularly the solo first violin part; the other instruments had much less to do, and could not be heard very clearly.
The conductor then played on the organ Offertoire by Édouard Batiste. Played on this organ, it was a rather blaring piece without much character; in fact, crass and vulgar (as Berkahn had warned us!).

Delibes was next, with a ‘Kyrie’ from his Messe Breve. It was sung by women only, but I found it rather a boring piece; I daresay as part of entire mass it would have been balanced out by the other movements.

The marvellous ‘Va pensiero’ from Verdi’s opera Nabucco ended the first half of the concert in triumphant style, Thomas Nikora accompanying on piano. The opening was particularly good, but unfortunately some choir members ignored the fact that part of the chorus was unison. The ending was very fine.

Giovanni d’Andrea’s Sinfonia in C for organ was another very loud piece (played by Jonathan Berkahn) that on this instrument appeared to have little merit. That part of it of a rather ‘rum-te-tum’ character was played so fast that sounded ridiculous.

Rossini was up next, with Barbara Paterson conducting again, his ‘Salve Regina’. It began unaccompanied, then piano and organ joined in.

Donizetti was represented by two excerpts from his Requiem: ‘In memoria aeterna’ and ‘Rex tremendae’. Here, the choir had much more confidence and accuracy (possibly because a number of them would have sung this recently, in the Choral Federation’s May regional workshop). There was some good pianissimo singing, but also too many individual voices were prominent, particularly from the men. The letter ‘s’, which is more of a problem in the English language than in Latin, was often not sounded together by the choir. The ending of the second excerpt was lovely.

Andrew Lloyd Webber’s popular ‘Pie Jesu’ from his Requiem was next, with Barbara Paterson as soloist. Here again, her voice did not seem to me to be suitable for this charming, simple melody. The choir acquitted itself well, as did the second soloist, a choir member.

Another delightful string piece (with piano and organ) followed: the well-known ‘Intermezzo’ from Mascagni’s opera Cavalleria Rusticana.

Wagner closed the programme, as he had opened it, with the quasi-religious ‘Pilgrims’ chorus’ from Tannhäuser, sung in English. Parts of it required rapid playing from Heather Easting on the organ. It made a good ending to the concert.