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.

 

Strumming and fretting en masse at Old St.Paul’s – the N.Z.Guitar Quartet

Posted on by Peter Mechen

Old St.Paul’s Church -Lunchtime Concerts

New Zealand Guitar Quartet

(Owen Moriarty, Tim Wanatabe, Jane Curry and Chris Hill)

Old St.Paul’s Church, Thorndon

Tuesday 21st August 2012

Perhaps it would have all been double the pleasure at Old St. Paul’s for Frederic Chopin, who was reputed to have said “Nothing is more beautiful than a guitar – save, perhaps two!” – no less than the New Zealand Guitar Quartet was here to put the aphorism to the test. A quartet’s worth of guitar players certainly makes a lovely, rich sound, with plenty of opportunities for all of those individual voices, both leading and in the middle, to interact with one another and create such richly-woven tapestries, in fact, small orchestras of sound.

The concert’s venue – Old St.Paul’s – exerted its customary spell over the proceedings, the beauty of the surroundings making up for the lack of adequate sight-lines for any audience member sitting more than a dozen pews back. Some elevation for the performers (as was constructed not so long ago in St.Andrew’s on-the-Terrace Church) would certainly help more people to SEE the musicians, and perhaps enhance the sound-projection (the latter, however, seems perfectly adequate for all but the most distant spectators). A few of the softer passages for solo guitar seemed very quiet, but the sound in tutti made, as I’ve already said, a pretty solid, if finely constituted, instrumental ensemble sound.

Attendance at these Old St.Paul’s lunchtime concerts of late (at least the ones I’ve been to) have been surprisingly good, considering (perhaps, because of! ) the inclement weather – and today’s concert was no exception (the attendance AND the weather!). There’s obviously a loyal following for the venture, for all the reasons I’ve mentioned, and in this case the music and the music-making would have contributed greatly to the delight of it all.

The ensemble describes itself in a program note bio as “exciting, dynamic and engaging” – and I’m happy to say that the concert certainly reflected these things. I’ve heard the group play before, and this time around found myself entirely caught up in what was going on, as if everybody’s focus was freshly sharpened and their energies centered right at the music’s heart. Take the opening item, for example, Luigi Boccherini’s Introduction et Fandango, a pleasant though fairly conventional evocation of Spain – or at least one might have previously thought so, until hearing the Quartet’s  full-blooded rendition of the Fandango, digging into the rhythms and accentuating the music’s light-and-dark contrasts. Boccherini? – really?

Jane Curry introduced the next item,a transcription by Owen Moriarty of Bach’s Third Brandenburg Concerto, drawing listeners’ attention to one of the players’ use of a 7-string guitar, the instrument making for a greater range and sonority. Whatever the difference, the reworking of the music (in true Baroque style) was a great success, the music’s bubbling energy carrying all before it in both the first and third movements (a pity the opportunity wasn’t taken in between these episodes for a bit of extempore “sounding” of things suggested both by what had just happened and what was to come, as sometimes happens in this music’s performance). But particularly in the last movement, the counterpoints joyously tumbled over one another in away that would probably have had old Sebastian Bach tapping his feet in approval.

New Zealand composer Craig Utting drew some of his inspiration from the Baroque world for part of a composition called Onslow Suite, using a kind of passacaglia-form underlining a kind of lyrical exchange. The music provides the contrast of a middle section that spontaneously modulates asymmetrically and somewhat remotely, before returning to the passagcaglia figurations with increased rapture, finishing with a final chord of benediction – a lovely work, originally written for two pianos, but here most satisfyingly reworked for guitars.

The group then turned its attention to a work by Andrew York, former player-member of the American Guitar Quartet, the group for whom the music was written. This was called Quiccan, a closely-knit etude for four guitars, allowing each player to explore melody, harmony, and accompaniment. The piece started jazzily, resembling the sounds of a distant festival, one redolent with Latin American rhythms and textures. A slower section allowed the players some breathing-space and a contrasted vantage-point, towards which the ensemble redirected its energies, with the help of some “percussive” effects -all very engaging and attractive. A sudden “break-off” point resulted in a chord whose single chime froze the gestural actions of the musicians and allowed the sounds to resonate briefly and depart – a kind of musical metaphor for human existence.

More familiar territories were the items by Manuel de Falla, to finish the program – two exerpts, arranged by Owen Moriarty, from Falla’s El amor brujo ballet, firstly, the Danza del Terror, plenty of repeated notes, driving rhythms and strutting flourishes, followed by the even better-known Danza ritual del fuego, a performance which brought out something of the music’s dark, primitive side at the beginning, and gave plenty of point to the cross-rhythmed accents in the piece’s middle section. Only at the end did I feel the need for a bit more abandonment on the part of the players, something slightly more animal and physical. I wonder, too, whether the emphasis on tuning the instruments is entirely appropriate during the course of these two pieces – to my way of thinking, far better to keep the impetus and atmosphere on-going between the two dances and let whatever pitch vagaries occur be part of the sweep and drive, of this primitive, elemental aspect of the music.

But, nevertheless, a great concert, nicely presented and vividly projected.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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.

 

 

Remarkable Big Sing National Finale a brilliant success at every level

Posted on by Lindis Taylor

The Big Sing – National Finale 2012
Organised by the New Zealand Choral Federation

Eighteen competing and four guest choirs, evening compered by Christine Argyle

Wellington Town Hall

Saturday 18 August, 6.30pm

Twenty-two choirs, including four ‘guest choirs’ which are not eligible for an award, from 16 schools came to Wellington for the annual singing jamboree known as The Big Sing, managed by the New Zealand Choral Federation.  The festival began in 1988 when it was separated from the then Westpac Schools Music Contest which included chamber music groups as well as singers.

The latest figures showed that 148 schools, 235 choirs, and 8,440 singers registered to take part this year  nationwide.

The Wellington regional festival had been held on 6 and 7 June in which 33 choirs sang (compared with 36 each from Christchurch and Auckland). Of those 33, five were selected for the Finale: Chilton Saint James School – Seraphim Choir, Tawa College – Twilight Tones, Wellington College – Wellington College Chorale, Wellington East Girls’ College – Cantala, Wellington Girls’ College – Teal Voices.

Wellington choirs won no Golds; three of them won Silver awards, two, Bronze

The choirs to attend the Finale were chosen through an arcane process at the end of the regional festivals that had taken place in June.  They sang to each other and to their friends a families for three days till the three adjudicators had decided which of their pieces should be heard at the Final concert, when august people such as music critics might safely attend.

It’s a mighty production, actually starting around midday Saturday, when the ‘Massed Flash Choir’ sang and made a lot of noise in Civic Square. And the New Zealand Secondary Students Choir was on hand to astonish the drifters-by. Their programme included: Toia Mai (Paraire Tomoana)
Rytmus (Ivan Hrušovský)
Geistliches Lied (Johannes Brahms)
‘Mitten wir im Leben sind’ (Felix Mendelssohn)
Nemesi (John Psathas, commissioned for the 2011-12 NZSSC)
Hamba Lulu (traditional Zulu wedding song arranged by Mike Brewer)
‘Tofa Mai Feleni’ (Trad. Samoan, arr. Steven Rapana)

As the audience entered, most of the choirs were already there or coming in, and they performed in a variety of apparently spontaneous ways. The compere was Christine Argyle, announcer (presenter) on Radio New Zealand Concert. She described what the procedures were and how the organisers had reached this point. Her delivery and comments were useful, interesting and clear yet matched the gaiety of the evening excellently.

I could make certain general remarks about the music and its performance.

The thing feeds on itself. Year by year, the choirs observe the presentation ideas and stunts that proved successful and learn from them, so that few choirs confine themselves merely to singing the piece of music. There is a great variety in costumes, in members’ dispositions on the stage, their actions, hand and facial gestures, in extraneous and intraneous noises and sound effects.

Sometimes one can tell, after a while, how the organisers have been guided in deciding on the order of items: the strongest first or in the middle? grouped together so that contrasts are not too stark? a stunner at the end of the first half to encourage reckless drinks-buying at the Interval?

Those chosen for the Finale was dominated as much as ever by the schools that have become famous for their music, and a couple of them gained places for two choirs: Burnside High in Christchurch, Wellington East Girls’, Tawa, Marlborough Girls’ and Rangitoto colleges, and the two Westlake High schools on the North Shore; and among the private schools, St Cuthbert’s, Chilton St James, King’s College.

The choir that eventually won Platinum sang first: Bel Canto from Burnside High School, with the Gloria from a Mass by Hungarian composer György Orbán. A moderately big choir of tall girls, they are conducted by Sue Densem and also rehearse with a student conductor; they sang a conspicuously bright, non-pious movement with a brisk enthusiasm, sparkling with staccato and easy syncopation, at once setting the tone and a very high standard for the rest of the concert.

Nga Manu tioriori O Kapiti, a girls’ choir (a Reserve Guest choir) from Kapiti College sang ‘I am not yours’ by prominent New Zealand choral composer David Childs. (I heard a Kapiti College Choir sing it in 2009). The chair of the judges panel James Tibbles, in his witty overview at the end, remarked how David Hamilton seemed to have been supplanted as leading New Zealand choral composer by David Childs. Bridget O’Shanassy conducted. However, I thought it a somewhat limp, clichéd piece (ghosts of A Lloyd Webber?) which hardly encouraged the choir to demonstrate their real abilities.

All the King’s Men from the obvious college, is a new choir formed this year; they are conducted by King’s organist and choirmaster Nicholas Forbes. The choir won a Silver award with David Griffiths (only Davids need apply as New Zealand composers) setting of Curnow’s Wild Iron, a poem of short, staccato phrases that did not lend itself to easy delivery, but was handled with skill and intelligence.

From that unique musical by John Kander, Cabaret (Christopher Isherwood, stories, via John van Druten, play), Kristin School’s girls’ choir Euphony sang, with great resourcefulness and wit, ‘Don’t tell Mama’. They sat on low benches and took up changing dispositions, with splendid little vignettes, to create a brilliantly funny rendering, which won them laughter, on top of the shouts and screams (which are almost unvaryingly de rigueur). Cheryl Clarke’s jazz accompaniment was a vital ingredient; with at least some credit to conductor David Squire, it got them a Gold.

Macleans College Choir, Howick sang a Mendelssohn song, In Grünen. It could not have been a greater contrast; though a perfectly unobtrusive song, the experienced hands of their conductor Terence Maskill showed in the way they coped with its demands: in tonally variety, subtlety, in exploring its simple, Romantic era sentiment with integrity and vivacity, all of which they carried off with plain honesty. The judges agreed with my assessment of Gold.

Marist Stella, a guest girls’ choir from Marist College in Auckland, conducted by Rostislava Pankova-Karadjov, tackled Louis Armstrong’s last charts success, in 1968, ‘What a Wonderful World’, with open and unaffected sentimentality. Not the way Armstrong would have played it but, with their undulating tempi, care and feeling, he’d have loved them for it.

Mandate, another pun-title choir from Otago Boys’ High School, sang another comic scena ‘Kiss the Girl’ which I’ve heard sung at an earlier Big Sing. They have made the Finale several times since 1996 and have been conducted by Karen Knudson since 1998. It’s a barbershop number, tackled with manly confidence by this 35-or-so choir, with odd accompanying sound effects and discreet witty gestures. The crowd loved it and the judges too: Silver.

Christine calmed audience alarm by disclosing that SOS means ‘Sisters of Soul’. The auditioned girls’ choir of 38 members from Rangitoto College was founded in 1992 by Jillian Rowe, and they have reached the Finale most years since then. Under Karen Roberts they sang Beau Soir, an arrangement of a Debussy song that one might have had difficulty attributing. This short, not very remarkable song, in very fair French, had attributes similar to Macleans College Choir’s Mendelssohn; the virtue of unpretentiousness and plain, attractive musicality. It too won them a Silver.

Another Rangitoto College choir, The Fundamentals (how pervasive is the widespread fashion among pop bands for taking abstract nouns as their names), also sang Mendelssohn, in German: three poems by Heine together entitled Tragödie. Curiously enough, I heard them sung recently at a Bach Choir concert: this performance captured them with a little more youthful enthusiasm. The choice of these songs involved more than fundamentals, and their polish, dynamic variety and tonal precision, singing unaccompanied, were well handled by conductor, Jonathan Palmer. They demonstrated elegant expressive gestures which I thought might have gained them better than Bronze.

Bella Voce, from Marlborough Girls’ College, directed by Robin Randall, has done well over the years. They sang, with gestures that were not really integrated in the performance, the spiritual ‘Aint no grave can hold my body down’. It’s a well-schooled choir but they gained only Bronze. Here too it was useful to bear in mind that the judges’ decisions are based, not on the evening’s performances, but on their singing in the previous two days.

Burnside’s auditioned mixed choir, Senior Chorale, also under Sue Densem, sang the gently sentimental, a cappella, Earth Song. It might not be an especially arresting song but it made an impact through their slow, quiet, restrained approach, with exquisite dynamic and tone control. But there was real integrity here and they made quite an impression. I was not surprised at their Gold award.

The first half ended with The Seraphim Choir, the premier auditioned choir from Lower Hutt’s Chilton St James School, singing another disguised Debussy song, Nuits d’étoiles. Again in quite good French, conducted by Ella Buchanan Hanify and accompanied by Hugh McMillan, the song is hardly a masterpiece, but it is a good choice to offer judges of taste and refinement, who properly awarded Silver.

Wellington Girls’ College opened the second half; their Teal Voices (teal, the school colour) sang ‘Like a Rainbow’ which involved many repetitions of those words. Though he’s a prolific American choral composer of some renown, Bob Chilcott’s song seemed to do the choir few favours, though the performance, guided by Nicola Sutherland and Michael Fletcher employing small groups or individual voices attractively, was imaginative enough. A Bronze.

Viva Camerata from Wairarapa’s Rathkeale and St Matthew’s Collegiate, a guest choir, sang another comedy number, The Driving Lesson. The choir, conducted by Kiewiet van Deventer and accompanied by Adam Gordon, enacted the little skit effectively if without great flair, but its slender, somewhat obvious wit needed more adult skills than a teenage group is likely to command.

Saint Cuthbert’s in Auckland also entertained the crowd with ‘Johnny said No’; their auditioned choir. Saints Alive, under the direction of Megan Flint, with light and deft singing and discreet, comic gestures, carried it off in a certain droll style, which gained them a Silver award.

A mixed choir, Twilight Tones, an auditioned choir within Tawa College’s main choir, the Dawn Chorus, sang ‘Give me Jesus’. Alongside so many choirs exhibiting flair in both singing, histrionics and comic talents, something special is needed in presenting a traditional religious song. The singing, under Isaac Stone, was technically fine, under good, unostentatious control, but something was needed to lift it from the merely very good.

Saint Kentigern College from Auckland sent a large guest choir, Menasing (get it?). It’s unauditioned, in its first year. Their party piece was a highly effective performance, guided by Lachlan Craig and involving bass and drums, plus piano, as well as comic sound effects, of ‘I’ll fly away’. It elicited stentorian teenage shrieks as bassist took his instrument under his arm, like a guitar.

Con Brio is no stranger to the Big Sing. From Villa Maria College in Christchurch, they included a double-ended drum to accompany, otherwise a cappella, the Xhosa song, Dubula. Their party piece was to launch by throwing off their jerseys. But they also captured the African sound brilliantly. The fact that their conductor, Rosemary Turnbull, stood aside to some effect, might have prompted the remark by Tibbles about the conductor as sometimes surplus to requirements.

Wellington College Chorale, an auditioned choir, sang Toki Toki, a Malaysian song arranged by their conductor Katie Macfarlane. Bearing ethnic relationships in mind, it revealed a quality that could have been Polynesian, and it gave the performance an air of idiomatic ease. They judged their movements carefully and achieved a performance that was vocally skilled and visually effective, gaining a Silver award.

Cantala, from up the hill at Wellington East Girls’ College which had been in the news with its triumphant recent international tour also won (only) a Silver. Dressed in one of the prettiest of all the costumes, their droll song, Bitte Betti, was enacted with refinement and restraint but through that achieved a performance that both revealed some fine individual voices and excellent ensemble singing, not to mention the skilful direction of Brent Stewart.

David Squire conducts Westlake Boys’ High School choir, Voicemale, of round 50 boys. They sang ‘Embraceable You’ from Gershwin’s Girl Crazy, a fairly short song, but more than enough to prove splendid balance of the parts and ensemble, all in a perfectly gauged style, gaining them a Silver award.

Placed at the end of the concert was another choir with a punning conflation of a name, Choralation, from a conflation of Westlake Boys’ and Girls’ High Schools. In the previous three years they gained the Platinum Awards and this year had to settle for Gold. They did that under Rowan Johnston with the Gloria from Bob Chilcott’s Little Jazz Mass, which called for guitar, bass and drums as well as sparkling supported in by their pianist.

The Big Sing does not end there, but continued with snippets of a video of the lunchtime spectacles and speeches; the most insightful came from the chairman of the adjudicators’ panel, James Tibbles, hinting at the need to explore a greater variety of New Zealand composers, and of getting more representation of Maori music and singing which are distinctly absent, though glancing at the choirs appearing at the regional sessions, it looks as if choirs with a larger Maori element simply don’t quite achieve the level demanded. (I wonder whether, as in so many aspects of the way in which Maori prefer to follow paths in education and the arts that tends to view their own culture on terms equal to the rest of the world, their music achievements are disadvantaged by disregarding the importance of the universal world of classical music).

Thus the award for the performance of a song with Maori text went to Saints Alive from St Cuthbert’s, from a not very large field.

The Minister for Culture and Heritage Chris Finlayson spoke and handed out the awards, which have been mentioned in the remarks about each choir. His admiration for the entire fabric of the festival reflected what is certainly felt by all involved, that it is probably remarkable at an international level for qualities like collegiality and generosity, for the huge variety of musical styles and cultures that flourish, and that the size of the country makes possible the staging of an event of this kind that reaches such a wide and disparate range of communities.

It’s also necessary to recognise the extraordinary feat of organization by teachers and choral federation workers throughout the country in regional and national phases of the Big Sing festival.

It ended with all 750 or so, shoulder-to-shoulder on the choir stalls in massed singing of two South African songs, just rehearsed, conducted by Andrew Withington, conductor of the NZSSC. And organist Thomas Gaynor, a couple of days before leaving to take up a scholarship at the Eastman School of Music in New York State, accompanied the massed singing, by choirs and audience, of the National Anthem.

 

Dancing in the Cathedral – Mozart and Bruckner from Simone Young and the NZSO

Posted on by Peter Mechen

Cathedrals of Sound – New Zealand Symphony Orchestra

MOZART – Symphony No.36 in C Major K.425 “Linz”

BRUCKNER – Symphony No.5 in B-flat

New Zealand Symphony Orchestra

Simone Young (conductor)

Michael Fowler Centre, Wellington

Friday 17th August, 2012

“A Bruckner Symphony is never just another concert” declared conductor Simone Young, interviewed a few days before her scheduled pair of performances of the Austrian composer’s Fifth Symphony, in Wellington and in Auckland. Not only did she mean that, more especially in this Southern Pacific area of the globe, performances of these symphonies are fewer and further between than in some other parts of the world. It was also an affirmation by a musician who’s already a great interpreter of these works, of their special character, part of which incorporates the power within the music to transform a normal concert experience into something uniquely special and truly memorable. And those qualities were precisely what we got from Bruckner, Simone Young and the NZSO  in Wellington’s Michael Fowler Centre on Friday night.

For a number of reasons the appearance of Australian-born Young excited considerable interest – women conductors of orchestras are still very much the exception rather than the norm (though we’ve come some distance, I think, from the once-prevailing attitude voiced by former NZSO conductor-in-chief Franz-Paul Decker, who was once famously quoted as finding women conductors “aesthetically unpleasing”!). Young is, moreover, perhaps the most highly-regarded woman conductor in Europe, with a particularly high profile in Germany, working as she does out of the Hamburg State Opera, and as music Director of the Hamburg Philharmonic.

She’s something of a controversial figure as well, having been “at odds” with a former employer, Australian Opera, over her budgeting demands during her tenure as the company’s artistic director, resulting in her contract not being renewed after only a couple of seasons. As it turned out Australia’s loss was Europe’s gain, as her dual appointments in Hamburg followed soon after – musical director of both the city’s opera and the Philharmonic Orchestra, posts she took up in 2005. Her native country had, by then moved to make some amends for her peremptory dismissal from the Opera, appointing her a Member of the Order of Australia in 2004.

2012 is an important year for her – besides having made her debut with the NZSO, she is bringing to Brisbane the Hamburg Opera and Ballet and the Philharmonic, performing a concert version of Das Rheingold (she is a seasoned Wagnerian with several Ring Cycles to her credit, including a complete recording) and the Mahler “Resurrection” Symphony. New Zealanders who might feel aggrieved that the “Hamburg Invasion” doesn’t include these shores might consider that neither does the venture include Sydney or Melbourne, Queensland wanting “exclusive rights” to the venture – now, why does that have a familiar ring?

With all of these things in mind, expectations were pirouetting on points among the audience awaiting the conductor’s entry to begin the Wellington concert. Diminutive, but authoritative, Young took the podium, and, dispensing with a baton, launched into the concert’s first offering, the Mozart “Linz” Symphony K.425.  Of course, the geographic links with Bruckner (Linz was the latter’s birth-place) made the choice a happy and appropriate one, though there were other possibilities of programming – one being the Fifth Symphony of yet another Austrian composer, Schubert, whom Bruckner is often linked with regarding his symphonic method. I would have been as happy with either.

Thanks to my formative listening experience with the Mozart “Linz” symphony I can’t, even after all these years, get Bruno Walter’s voice on his famous rehearsal recording of this work, out of my head through that opening – “Bahnn – off! Ba-bahnn – off! Ba-bahnn – off! ….” and so on (Walter’s orchestra was having trouble with the note values!). There seemed no such problem, here, the sounds focused, crisp and precise, yet with a warmth (no didactic vibrato-less “authentic” strictures, thank goodness!) and, indeed a glow about the textures throughout the slow introduction, which informed the lovely easeful beginning to the allegro, and made a wonderful contrast with the more bumptious and high-spirited energies to follow.

It was Mozart-playing that reminded me at times of Benjamin Britten’s recordings of some of the symphonies – the same marriage of lyricism and strength, informed by an attention to detail which enriches the music’s context rather than distracts from the flow. Young conducted, it seemed, with every fibre of her being, her fingertips expressing and conveying a kind of whole-body energy which mirrored what the music was doing (as she did later in the evening with the Bruckner), her feet dancing and her knees launching the rest of her body upwards to characterize the “lift” required by the music’s rhythms.

The orchestral playing, though not without some brass “blurps” at two or three cardinal points throughout the slow movement (the players settling in more as the work progressed), produced sounds that seemed an expression of Young’s will, the strings and winds getting a lovely colour, either when “playing out” or with the more softly-lit sequences in the movement’s middle section. As for the bright, vigorous, but still elegant Minuet, Young literally led the opening dance to the audience’s delight, and then got beautifully contrasted characterizations from the winds in the Trio.

The finale again married grace and strength, the players’ articulation clear and crisp at speed, even if Young’s direction slightly “squeezed” the rhythm of the concluding downward arpeggiated figure each time, as if stressing the music’s urgency. Throughout, we enjoyed the prominence accorded the timpani, Laurence Reece encouraged to make the notes tell with just the right amount of emphasis, enhancing both the work’s texture and rhythmic character.

Back from an interval – during which it seemed the conductor’s red shoes (prominent during all those dance steps) were discussed as enthusiastically as her music-making – we settled down to behold the splendors of the Bruckner Symphony. And what splendors they were, in Young’s hands (aided by a baton for this music – doubtless due to a bigger orchestra and music with some rhythmic complexity). The rapt opening of the work recalled Russian conductor Vasily Petrenko’s way with the opening of the “Leningrad” Symphony, almost exactly a year ago in this same hall with the same players – utter concentration upon sounds whose genesis here seemed deeply elemental, like a giant slumberer’s distantly-wrought heartbeat, with those deep pizzicato notes beautifully and sensitively coloured by the upper strings’ arc-lines. What a beginning to a symphony!

During the “Listener” interview previously quoted Young stated that she thought an older school of conductors’ way with Bruckner’s music had contributed to public perception of the works being “overlong”, and that she saw the symphonies as being more direct, theatrical and emotional than they were often played. So, here, the massive brass statements which answered the quiet opening were given with plenty of declamatory force, the playing nicely poised amid pauses for the utmost effect (a magnificent brass response, here, from the orchestra) – and the allegro which followed was swiftly and urgently propelled. Young handled the transitions throughout the numerous changes of tempo in the first movement with the utmost flexibility, moulding the ends of episodes into the silences with beautifully-judged luftpauses. She also seemed ever-ready to allow the music to dance, so that the monumental, cathedral-like aspect of the work was less dominant than is usually the case.

Such was the concentration and energy of the music-making from all concerned that each of the first three movements seemed to be taken on the wing of a single breath. The sometimes problematic opening to the Adagio, with its awkward three-against-two rhythms, here flowed as mellifluously as could be, the music’s innate restlessness perfectly expressed, and the oboe solo’s emotional outpouring simple and direct. The strings’ luscious second-subject theme grew lovely, upward-reaching tendrils of sound, then joined with the brass unforgettably in a snowcapped climactic moment that filled the ensuing silence with magic. And towards the end, with the brass golden and confident, the sound-surges evoked by Young and her players created out of the spaces around us whole mountains and valleys into which the tapestried ambiences etched lonely impulses of wind tones and softly-thrummed silences.

After this came the scherzo, with its outlandish stop-go aspect, and rhythmic sequences alternating between demonic energy and heavy-footed rustic bonhomie, Young and the players (especially the brass) revelling in the quick-fire alternations. If not all of the brass detailing was entirely accurate, what was far more important was capturing the music’s quirkiness and volatility, the textures here in constant and spontaneous effervescence, in places laughter “holding both its sides”, while in others, such as throughout the trio, rustic charm prevailed, the detailing from winds and brass again treasurable (a lovely gurgling upward arpeggio from the clarinet at one point, and beautiful chording from the horns towards the end).

The opening of the finale (a similar hush to that of the symphony’s beginning) was almost spoilt by unfortunate audience coughing – as, earlier in the evening, a flurry of late audience arrivals had interrupted the Mozart Symphony’s slow movement. Fortunately the clarinet’s perky octave jumps (a precursor of the fugue to come) seemed to refocus the attention of the coughers, so that we could all concentrate on the Beethoven-like reintroduction of themes from the symphony’s earlier movements, prior to the fugue’s hugely dramatic first entry-proper. In Young’s hands, as she promised, the music was more lithe and muscular than leviathan-like, making for engaging, closely-worked arguments between voices, and advancing the music’s progress towards a promised climax or sense of fruition.

That came, of course, with those mighty closing brass chorales, which capped off the mountain ranges of music running like a spinal cord through the structures. My first reaction there was to crave a more overtly “grand” manner than Young was directing – she drove the orchestra straight into those mighty statements while keeping the music’s underlying pulse beating, risking a “more of the same” feeling rather than creating an overwhelming sense of arrival and resolution. But what her approach did do was, in the long run, elevate the status of the whole of the finale to that of a truly cosmic dance, the rhythmic drive working hand-in-glove with the “cathedrals of sound” – so that, in the midst of these mighty structures right at the end, we still felt like dancing with the music.

So – it was music-making of one’s dreams from orchestra and conductor, suitably acclaimed by a delighted audience at the end – how long will it be before we can invite Simone Young back again to make more music?

 

 

 

 

Blistering Brahms, diaphanous Dutilleux and monumental Mozart, from Amici and Diedre Irons

Posted on by Peter Mechen

Wellington Chamber Music

Amici Ensemble with Diedre Irons (piano)

MOZART – Piano Quartet in G MInor K.478

DUTILLEUX – String Quartet “Ainsi la Nuit” (Thus the Night)

BRAHMS – Piano Quintet in F Minor Op.34

Ilott Theatre, Wellington

Sunday, 12th August, 2012

Blame Captain Haddock of the “Tintin” books for my “Blistering Brahms” heading – the other descriptions are more conventional, but no less heartfelt on my part. For this was a magnificent concert, a memorable marriage of great music and music-making, very much a “gentlemen of England now abed.…” scenario if ever there was one, for we lucky people in the audience.

With Mozart in his “G Minor mood” there was drama and dark purpose right from the concert’s beginning, with the composer’s K.478 Piano Quartet. The expression on Diedre Irons’ face, ready to plunge into the opening bars with her ensemble colleagues spoke volumes, really. The musicians relished it all, the major/minor mirrorings of the opening phrases, the piquant asymmetries of the lyrical contrasts and the richly unexpected modulations of the development – all contributed tellingly to a powerful, all-pervading ambivalence of mood throughout the opening movement.

Violinist Donald Armstrong led the ensemble with a will, his tone perhaps a little raw in places, but the sound indicative of the intensity of feeling he was investing with the notes. Mozart’s usual dictum “It should flow like oil” was here augmented with episodes of intense, knife-edged focus. Diedre Irons’ piano took the lead with the development, as always with her playing the tones coloured and inflected with what seemed like a Shakespearean kind of eloquence. In reply, the strings’ long-breathed lines were gorgeous, filled with intense feeling.

The operatic Andante sang out here, melody and counter melody drawing forth lines and accompaniments of great strength, the music never sentimentalized (a beautiful contribution from Julia Joyce’s viola at one point). The finale’s opening seemed a long way from the tragedy of the opening movement’s utterances. We heard such supple, beautifully-placed dovetailing at quite a cracking pace, everything made to “bubble” and generate high spirits, though with some lurches into a darker minor mood in places – the composer obviously saying, “Just to let you know that….” with these sequences.

After these antiquarian tragicomedies, the following work, a String Quartet from 1976 by Henri Dutilleux subtitled Ainsi la nuit (Thus the night)  brought a new earth to view. Donald Amstrong spoke before the work’s performance about its “organized disorganization”, a statement which seemed to characterize most aptly the sonorities and figurations that we encountered throughout. The opening sequences certainly suggested the Nocturne of the title, with haunting repetitions, punctuated by what might be characterized as owl-cries or distant ship-horns at sea. The ambiences seemed layered, so that as skins of texture were discarded others seemed firmly fixed in place underneath. After this, the Miroir d’espace that was Movement Two irrupted with sharp impulses, before the sounds widened spectrally between a haunting violin line and  a near-subterranean cello, creating a yawning vista between, flecked with instrumental incident.

Each of two sections that follow were subtitled Litanies, the first closely-worked and claustrophobic, concerted passages interspersed with instrumental “adventures”, while the second sounded a kind of siren’s song, with elements of a lament, a sort of chromatic welling up from the depths and gathering strands of sharp focus together. I thought the players’ characterizations of these many and widely-contrasted sound-impulses vivid and compelling. Just as focused was the playing in Constellations, rhythmic, spiky and volatile, as if part of the cosmos was in ferment, the music expressing that “disorganized organization” Donald Armstrong talked about.

Such were the mesmeric qualities of the sounds, I found myself drifting into the music quite non-analytically at some points, losing my overview of things in impulses of delight, and then having to regretfully resist further blandishments. Even so, the last two sections of the work remain indissoluble in my mind, the music’s ambient world establishing such a sense of organic flow at this stage in the piece, the divisions were subsumed and everything became as one, a veritable “memory footprint” established by those sounds, one which haunts me even as I write this.

As if these whole-world-entities weren’t enough, after the interval we were given the full high-romantic gamut of emotion, refracted through the Brahmsian end of things. The composer’s great Piano Quintet had to claw its way through two separate gestations – firstly for strings alone, then for two pianos – before emerging in its finished form. I found the comments made by friends of the composer regarding each of these “tryouts” interesting – violinist Joseph Joachim found that the strings-alone version “lacked charm”, and the great conductor Hermann Levi told Brahms that he had turned “a monotonous work for two pianos” into a masterpiece of chamber music. Brahms destroyed the strings-only work, but the two-piano version still exists as the Sonata Op.34b.

What the Piano Quintet version of the music gives us is the work’s structural strength expressed in a “best-of-both-worlds” garb – and these were the musicians to do the music’s strength, colour and lyricism justice. The sombre opening was played in a way that hinted at the turbulence to come – a big, quasi-orchestral sound that reflected the word of the piano concertos, with Diedre Irons’ playing underpinning the grandeur of the music’s range and scope. The give-and-take between instruments had a satisfyingly full-blooded quality – only once did I find the playing of the strings too insistent, a repeated-note sequence towards the end of the development which dominated rather than accompanied the piano’s material. Conversely, I found the ‘cello occasionally not forthright enough in such company, though Rowan Prior’s counterpointing was invariably beautifully voiced and phrased.

Throughout the work the musicians never let the intensity flag, the slow movement enshrining the most passionate lyricism (a beautiful unison from violinist Cristina Vaszilcsin and Julia Joyce shining out at one point, and a plumbing of the depths from Rowan Prior’s ‘cello at another), with everybody else similarly “playing out” and realizing the emotional potentialities of the music. And, what could have been merely high spirits in the scherzo had a supercharged, “possessed” quality – no half-measures! I loved the players’ engagement with it all, the fugal sections swirling up into the festive, swaggering theme, making a great dramatic contrast with the reprise of the opening, after the trio.

What mattered more than the less-than-ideally-pure string intonations at the finale’s beginning was the mood the players evoked, portents of impending tragedy, to which the ‘cello and piano then moved swiftly and hauntedly. With Brahms moving from light to darkness through different sequences the music’s roller-coaster ride was exhilarating, rhythmic poise turning almost without warning to pursuit on occasions. The playing simply kept up its extraordinarily vivid and physical effect right to the end, where the 6/8 Presto whirled our sensibilities away, flinging the music’s last few notes out into oblivion. It was, I thought, afterwards, the kind of music-making that makes life worth living.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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!

 

 

Well-presented concert from NZSM’s Young Musicians’ Programme

Posted on by Lindis Taylor

Young Musicians’ Programme of the New Zealand School of Music

Students of voice, piano, flute, violin, clarinet and guitar

St Andrew’s on the Terrace

Wednesday 8 August, 12.15pm

Pre-university music students can seek to study in the Young Musicians’ Programme of the New Zealand School of Music, in preparation for tackling the real thing when they matriculate later.

There are various opportunities to hear music students at the secondary stage of their education, such as at concerts by the New Zealand Secondary Students’ Choir, the Wellington and the National Youth Choirs and Orchestras (the Wellington Youth Orchestra plays this Sunday, 12 August at the Town Hall), and at events like the ‘Big Sing’ of the National Choral Festival, the Final stage of which can be heard at the Town Hall on Saturday 18 August, and the Schools Chamber Music Contest.

For a decade, a very special concert was staged annually by the Michael Monaghan Trust at which young instrumental players played concerto movements with an orchestra of players from the NZSO; that was wound up last year with the promise that the NZSO itself would pick it up and run something similar: what has happened?

At all these events, it is normal to hear performances that are astonishingly skilled and musically insightful.

The lunchtime audience at St Andrew’s enjoyed such an experience on Wednesday.

Eight young students played and sang, each introduced clearly by the programme director Shannon Digby. One of the most talented opened the concert with a short bracket of piano pieces: by 17th century Italian composer Bernardo Pasquini and Brahms. Nicole Ting played two movements of the Pasquini suite with a rare sensitivity and a surprisingly developed instinct for the music’s style and spirit, her ornaments were tasteful and charming, and her playing fluent and accurate. Though she had a wee lapse at the start of Brahms’s Intermezzo (in F minor, Op 118 No 4) here too she showed a maturity of understanding that took me by surprise.

Rosalie Willis on the flute may not have demonstrated quite that level of technical polish or fluency but her playing of a Fantasie in E minor by Telemann, showed care with phrasing and dynamics; the rhythmically testing last movement, Allegro, she managed very nicely.

Sophie Smyth has an as-yet softish soprano voice. She sang Der Lindenbaum from Winterreise, capturing its heart-broken mood with singing that was charming and accurate, and with accompaniment from Buz Bryant-Greene that gave sensitive support, though it’s not always easy to hold the voice and piano together, and he rarely overtopped her quiet delivery. Her second song was Jenny McLeod’s ‘I have no name’, from her collection Through the World, a small masterpiece that I’m humbled to say I hadn’t heard before. Sophie did it real justice.

Amber Madriaga is a guitarist already exhibiting surprising facility; her playing of Roland Dyens Tango en Skai gave off an air of confidence and considerable accomplishment in the repeated whirlwind flourishes, and occasionally almost too much dynamic subtlety.

There followed the Romance movement from Poulenc’s Clarinet Sonata from the already well advanced player Emily Evers, moving through its big range smoothly though her top was given to some shrillness. Emily later joined with tutor Karlo Margetic and oboist Ashley Mowbray in a fellow student’s composition, Subversion by Sean Pearless. It was musically interesting and treated each instrument with considerable understanding.

The only contribution from a jazz student was from Alex Ware, singing Butterfly, with a vibrato that might need watching later, though with confidence and an ease of delivery essential to the idiom; and then a scat-style concoction based on Summertime which perhaps suffered a little on account of her striving for innovation; yet there was no mistaking her fluency and an attractive vocal quality. Both were accompanied idiomatically by Daniel Millward.

Buz Bryant-Greene returned to accompany Allanah Avalon in He Moemoe (‘A Dream’), a rather beguiling song by Anthony Ritchie. Here there were moments when the two seemed not to be in perfect balance; her voice is attractive though a bit more attention is perhaps needed on projecting her lines.

Such was the pleasure of the concert that I was surprised my watch showed 12.50pm when I felt it was only half way through.

These young musicians will be interesting to watch.

 

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.