Te Koki Trio at Waikanae balances Schubert’s E flat trio with trios by Psathas and Fanny Mendelssohn

Waikanae Music Society

Fanny Mendelssohn: Piano trio in D minor, Op.11
John Psathas: Three Island Songs
Schubert: Piano trio no.2 in E flat, D.929

Te Koki Trio (Martin Riseley, violin; Inbal Megiddo, cello; Jian Liu, piano)

Waikanae Memorial Hall

Sunday 28 June 2015, 2.30pm

It was excellent to find a work of Fanny Mendelssohn’s on the programme – so often neglected in comparison with her famous brother, and someone who could well have gone on to greater things had she not died at only 42.  The Chamber Music New Zealand 2015 brochure informs me that the Te Koki Trio will play works by Clara Schumann and Gillian Whitehead this year also, playing in 9 regional centres, and Wellington.

The gentle, lyrical opening of the trio from the violin with the other instruments accompanying, was followed by the piano taking over the lead.  Then a wistful cello melody is interspersed with other figures, taking turns.  Rapid arpeggio and scale passages from the piano were tastefully and beautifully played by Jian Liu.  The first movement had a fiery ending.

The second movement was most expressive, with a rather sad theme.  A duet between the two strings followed, accompanied by piano.  There were rich phrases from the cello, and light and airy ones from the piano, then rising passion for both, before a quiet conclusion.  The short song of the third movement began on piano; ‘a charming Song Without Words’, said the programme note.

The finale started with an extended piano solo and after interesting themes, ended in spirited fashion.  The work proved Fanny Mendelssohn to be a worthy composer.

John Psathas is one of New Zealand’s most noted composers, currently.  The title of his work, though referring to the Greek islands of his ancestry, recalls A Song of Islands, a work of Douglas Lilburn’s, from 1946.

It started with the strings in unison, over a repeated rhythmic pattern on the piano, the dynamics ebbing and swelling.  The strings were played alternately with bow and pizzicato, then the music changed to quite a jazzy yet soulful mode.  The second song featured pizzicato cello, perhaps remembering the Greek bouzouki.  Quiet violin and piano accompanied, before all joined in a little later in a robust, angular passage that slowly faded on cello and piano, before a return to the pizzicato cello against slow violin and piano, as at the opening.

The third song had a loud, insistent rhythm at the start.  There was much repetition, and another very rhythmic pattern at the end. These were fine, lively pieces – with a character completely different from our opening work.

After the interval a very substantial chamber trio by Schubert.  This was a familiar work, but the Te Koki Trio gave it a freshness.  After the opening salvo, the lovely first theme rippled deliciously from the instruments; its development likewise.  The shimmering piano accompaniment was delightfully and thoughtfully played by Jian Liu, accompanying this and the following theme.

The second movement opened with a fabulous melody from the cello, against a slow walking accompaniment from the other two instruments.  Then it was the piano’s turn to take the tune with the strings accompanying.  Schubert’s treatment of his themes demonstrates his amazing genius in the field of chamber music.  Marvellous final cadences simply but poignantly echoed the opening notes of the main theme.

The scherzo and trio movement revealed that the playing was not flawless, but the few flaws did little to detract from the effect of the fine music.  The rumbustious trio was followed by the return of the scherzo theme.  The writing is taut yet very melodic, and puts the instruments in equal partnership.

There was yet more melody in the finale.  A joyful, even triumphant mood featured modulation, touches of humour and even pathos.  The return of the andante’s theme was accompanied by cascades on the piano and pizzicato from the violin, unexpected twists and turns, stops and restarts.  Schubert does take quite a long while to end many of his works!  Nevertheless, this was a masterful performance of a magnificent work.

As an encore, the trio played the lively second movement (Pantoum) from Ravel’s Piano Trio, composed in 1914.

As usual, there was a healthy-sized audience, although not as many people as I have seen there in the recent past.

 

 

Unmissable violin sonata programme from APO’s Canadian concertmaster and Sarah Watkins

Andrew Beer (violin) and Sarah Watkins (piano)
(Wellington Chamber Music)

Beethoven: Violin Sonata in G, Op 30 No 3
Lilburn: Violin Sonata (1950)
Good: ‘And Dreams Rush Forth to Greet the Distance’
Bartok: Two Rhapsodies
Ravel: Sonata in A for violin and piano

St Andrew’s on The Terrace

Sunday 21 June, 3 pm

The violinist’s name would have been new to Wellingtonians – the recently appointed Concertmaster of the Auckland Philharmonia Orchestra; the pianist however, is very well known. But the audience was disappointing: see comments in my Coda.

I think this programme, entirely of worthwhile, interesting works, but containing only one familiar, major work, might have seemed missable to non-subscribers, unless driven by Lilburn-loyalty or special love of Bartok, and who would be paying $40 for a seat.

Beethoven
In the event, it was an excellent concert. The performance of Beethoven’s Op 30 No 3 was strong, spirited and with striking emphasis on rhythmic elements and the engaging melodies; the two players sounded as if they’d been playing together for years. The middle movement, a sort of minuet, adhered perfectly to its marking, ‘molto moderato e grazioso’, and piano and violin conversed equably, animatedly, tossing ideas to and fro. As the notes pointed out, there is playfulness in the last movement, as the two seemed to push each other a little, and drew attention to themselves with misleading expectations, and untimely modulations. All these features increase the pleasure to be found in a piece of music and one of Beethoven’s gifts was his ability to tease and mislead the audience while creating a masterpiece. All this was here in the performance.

Lilburn
This Lilburn violin sonata in B minor was actually his third. It was written in 1950 for Frederick Page (pianist and head of the music department of Victoria University College) and violinist Ruth Pearl, after Lilburn had become a lecturer at the university; they premiered it at the university and then played it again three months later in Wigmore Hall in London.

The others two sonatas, in C and E flat, were written in 1943; they were first performed, respectively, by Maurice Clare (violin) and Noel Newson (piano), and by Vivien Dixon (violin) and Anthea Harley Slack (piano).

Probably my first live hearing of the present one was at a Mulled Wine concert at Paekakariki in 2011, when Sarah Watkins accompanied Donald Armstrong. There’s an Atoll recording of both the E flat and the present one, issued in 2011, featuring Elizabeth Holowell (violin) and Dean Sky-Lucas (piano). Atoll ACD 941. It was reviewed that year in Middle C by my colleague Peter Mechen.

Andrew Beer’s comments in the programme notes about Lilburn, from a newcomer’s standpoint, are interesting. In his remarks I get a hint of surprise at what might be seen as a sort of obsession with finding a New Zealand voice, as if the job of a creative artist were to interpret or reflect his own land rather than simply to write attractive, listenable music. Such an idea, which is still current, would have puzzled Bach, Mozart, Brahms, Strauss, Prokofiev (among many others). “Telling our own stories” has become a tedious, clichéd justification for supporting New Zealand artists in all fields. There are far more important reasons.

Worrying about expressing and echoing one’s own country has been an aberration that started with the growth of nationalism in the mid 19th century, which has distorted attitudes in so many areas and fuelled the political hatreds that have dogged the world ever since.

However, Lilburn was simply a man of his times, in that matter.

Fortunately, by the time he was 35, Lilburn was writing music that exuded more self-confidence and less seeking for a New Zealand voice, and this sonata is a good example. It is now his own voice, mature, individual, yet echoing the sounds of his immediate predecessors, like Vaughan Williams, tonal and lyrical, though by no means conservative or sentimental. It has also absorbed the character of European music of the time, the tough-minded mid-century; there are moments of dissonance.

It is unusual in being in once movement, with five sections alternating between Molto moderato and Allegro. The performance establishes a searching quality which finds more confidence in the first Allegro section, with both instruments sharing a dance-like episode. The emotional undulations made the second Allegro sound like a concluding phase, but the repeat of Tempo I quickly justified itself.

In my review of that Paekakariki concert I described the sonata as “an impressive, vigorous, tightly-argued work that should have become one of the leading chamber pieces of the New Zealand repertoire.” That still stands.

The rest of the programme
The Lilburn was followed by a shorter piece by Canadian composer Scott Good, a competition piece. The notes reproduce the composer’s own views of the requirements of such a piece: very interesting and well-judged. It gave plenty of scope for virtuosity, drew on contemporary compositional trends, and it certainly, as stipulated, held the attention of an audience. Nor did it seem to think for a minute of attempting to find a ‘Canadian voice’. It simply expressed a confidence in its ability to find melody and treatments that would sound interesting. The performance delivered on all those counts, with the pianist as wholly involved in the idiom as the violinist himself.

After the interval, Bartok’s Two Rhapsodies, quite substantial pieces. Both were played with an aim of making civilized, lyrical (up to a point) music from peasant material that was unsophisticated even if complex in its own way. The first is considerably more conventional and ‘westernised’ than the second, which seems closer to its folk origins, more driven, avoiding any risk of charming the listener, with the piano in percussive mode and the violin, untypically harsh in places. One of my scribbled notes remarked that it was undoubtedly the most formidable piece on the programme, but perhaps, given that, it was over-long.

The programme ended with Ravel’s Violin Sonata, again, not one of his most familiar or engaging; somewhat severe with tunes that might be described as gestures rather than the real thing. So it’s one of those works that one has heard several times, but only the jazz-inflected second movement, is really familiar. Nevertheless, the performance extracted all its virtues, both of melody and structure – the element that allows melody to take a firm grip and holds the attention.

Coda
There have been a lot of opinions and argument about the functions of the critic, from at least the time of Plato, and no doubt in earlier civilisations. Over the years I’ve been tackled for making comments that are alleged to be outside the purview of a critic, perhaps touching on the political context of a composer’s work, his private life, the players’ circumstances, the question of state support for the arts, availability and cost of venues, the condition of music education, value judgements touching the various genres of music, and on and on… all matters of great importance in my opinion.

This is preliminary to an observation about the audience size.

The weather was cold; the venue, since last year after the closure indefinite (?) of the Town Hall, not perhaps ideal for reasons that I need not spell out, though acoustically and in seating comfort, very good. That leaves the programme; and here we find an awareness hiatus between some performers and some promoters who agree to a programme, and an average audience, about what appeals on the one hand, and what, on the other, looks a bit esoteric, worthy but not emotionally compelling.

Till last year I was on the committee of the Wellington Chamber Music Society (as it was) almost from the beginning of these Sunday concerts in 1983, and so have attended a great many of them. The number of subscribers in the Sunday series has declined steadily over many years, and so there is not a large, paid-up contingent who will come anyway, having paid for all the concerts. I can’t remember a smaller audience for a Wellington Chamber Music concert; yet they continue to be a vital element in Wellington’s music scene.

This is just one of the many musical and other organisations that is suffering from the Town Hall’s closure. Christchurch has resolved to restore its Town Hall for twice the cost of the estimate for ours. What’s the matter with our Council?

 

Turnovsky Jubilee Ensemble of former competitors celebrate 50 years of schools chamber music competitions

Presented by Chamber Music New Zealand

Bach: Orchestral Suite no.2 in B minor, BWV 1067
Lilburn: Diversions for Strings
Mozart: Flute Quartet no.1 in D, K.285
Mendelssohn: Octet in E flat, Op.20

Former particpants in the chamber music competitions:  Wilma Smith (director, violin), Justine Cormack (violin, viola), Lara Hall (violin), Natalie Lin (violin), Gillian Ansell (viola), Bryony Gibson-Cornish (viola), Ashley Brown (cello), Victoria Simonsen (cello), Victoria Jones (double bass), Bridget Douglas (flute), Douglas Mews (harpsichord)

Michael Fowler Centre

Thursday, 18 June 2015, 7.30pm

The players, all former winners or participants, and in some cases adjudicators, in the schools chamber music contest (first sponsored by the Bank of New South Wales which became Westpac Bank, and now by New Zealand Community Trust) are giving concerts in 15 centres to celebrate 50 years of that contest.

The annual event now involves hundreds of school students in chamber music, and has given opportunity to many who have gone on to professional careers in music performance and teaching. The ensemble is named in honour of the late Fred Turnovsky, who was one of the key figures in the founding of what is now Chamber Music New Zealand, and from whose Foundation regular sponsorship is received.

What a line-up of performers! It’s always a pleasure to welcome Wilma Smith back to New Zealand, and the energy and warm sonority of her playing must be at least partly responsible for these attributes being notable in this concert. For the most part the women wore brightly coloured dresses – perhaps Brown and Mews should have emulated them with coloured silk shirts, rather than boring dark suits?

The programme as played differed from that originally advertised: Elgar’s Serenade for Strings had been dropped, and the Mozart work substituted. The order was changed too; logically, the Bach was played first rather than the Lilburn, as Wilma Smith informed us in some brief remarks, using a microphone.

The playing of the Bach was in baroque style, though with modern instruments. The players stood for this work (apart from the cellist and bassist). Hearing the seven movements, with their varying tempi, from a small ensemble like this, one could really follow the individual parts better; for example, I heard much more of what the cello and bass were playing than I ever have from listening to the work on record or radio.

There were ten players, all ‘spot-on’ all the time, without benefit of conductor. It was delightful to hear agile and elegant flute playing from Bridget Douglas (albeit, of course, on a modern metal flute), in the second movement (Rondeau) especially. The taut rhythms of slow and fast movements alike, were simply a great pleasure to hear. This was pure music played by highly talented and skilled musicians in full accord with what they were playing and with each other. The final Badinerie, perhaps the best-known of the movements, is such fun, and surely reveals that J.S. Bach had a sense of humour.

Douglas Lilburn’s centenary year was celebrated with his five-movement Diversions for Strings. For this, the harpsichord and flute were banished, and a second cellist introduced, and the ensemble was seated. This was vintage Lilburn at his most delightful. The pizzicato of the vivace first movement set a cheerful tone, which was contrasted in the second (poco adagio: espressivo) by the modal feel to the writing, that featured rich harmonies, and attractive solo passages from Wilma Smith. The presto third movement illustrated the lovely contrasts between movements, and Lilburn’s humour, in introducing an extract from Rossini’s William Tell overture. The fourth movement (andante) was restrained and elegant, thoughtful and solemn, while the allegro finale proved to be a rhythmically strong end to the piece.

Mozart’s quartet was written when he was in his early twenties, and is neither complex nor lengthy. It features a lovely pastoral opening theme. The mellow strings of Cormack, Gibson-Cornish and Simonsen contrasted with the more incisive flute of Douglas most attractively. The adagio second movement also had a pastoral feel, but with hints of pathos. It included the solo flute playing against pizzicato from the strings. This movement led straight into the rondo, a very quick finale, with lots of scampering around in a dance alternately boisterous and elegant. Lovely legatos contrasted with pungent staccatos.

Last but not least was Mendelssohn’s superb and justifiably popular Octet. As a friend said to me afterwards, “it is golden sunshine”. It has been said that this work is far more advanced and complex than anything Mozart wrote at the age Mendelssohn was when he wrote it: 16. What a genius! The uplifting rising cadences of the opening always bring a smile to my face. It is not often heard live in New Zealand, due to the difficulty of bringing together eight players in a chamber music concert; though I recall a 2014 performance at Waikanae from the Amici Ensemble as well as a notable performance by the New Zealand String Quartet and the Lindsay Quartet at an International Festival concert in Wellington some years ago; and it has appeared at the Nelson chamber music festival occasionally.

The gorgeous singing tone from Wilma Smith, and the mellow violas, were particularly notable. The players gave everything in energy and resonance to the jubilant first movement. The sombre andante began with violas and cellos; the wonderfully fluent violins followed, all revealing much light and shade in the music.

This music is not busy or in a hurry; serenity rules. It was noticeable that this work held the audience’s attention more than anything else on the programme. The third movement (scherzo) is reminiscent of the composer’s Midsummer Night’s Dream incidental music: butterflies, or fairies, dart here and there, and wonderful themes are passed around between the players. The finale is presto – and how! Its periodic climaxes are very satisfying, as is the fugal treatment of themes from earlier movements.

This was brilliant writing – and playing! The concert was a fabulous treat. It was well-attended, the downstairs of the Michael Fowler Centre being pretty well-filled; the upstairs is not used for chamber music concerts. The playing throughout was well-nigh impeccable and its clarity was glorious. Bravo!

 

NZCT chamber music competitors come down town to St Andrew’s with interesting lunchtime treat

Nicholas Kovacev (piano), Eliana Dunford (violin) and Bethany Angus (cello)

First movement of Smetana’s Trio in G minor, Op 15 – Moderato assai – Più animato
Bach: Toccata in E minor, BWV 914
Lilburn: Sonatina No 2
Rachmaninov: Élégie in E flat minor, Op 3 No 1
Mendelssohn: Andante and Rondo Capriccioso in E, Op 14

St Andrew’s on The Terrace

Wednesday 17 June, 12:15 pm

Here at St Andrew’s was the piano trio which had played the Moderato movement from Smetana’s Trio in G minor at the concert at the end of the NZSM Queen’s Birthday Chamber Music Weekend on 1 June (see the review of that date). What a treat to hear them play it again! And I’d wondered whether the group would now fill the rest of the programme with other pieces for the same players.  No, the violinist and cellist retired after playing the Smetana, and pianist Nicholas Kovacev carried on, playing pieces on his own.

I was most impressed by the trio’s earlier performance of Smetana’s poignant trio, which he wrote following the death of his daughter; as well as the convincingly expressed feeling, there was also a degree more polish in the performance as a whole, which did not detract from the emotional rawness but really made me want to hear what they would do with the entire work. Their rapport was very conspicuous in every respect; including the demonstrative and expressive crescendos and diminuendos and beautifully gauged tempo variations.

Kovacev then played four piano pieces that had the virtue of being unhackneyed, generally not very familiar. The programme note pointed out correctly that the Bach Toccata (BWV 914) that comprised Un poco allegro, Adagio and Fugue, was not well known. It made a quiet start in a thoughtful, improvisatory way before turning into a quicker Allegro; the Adagio too had a rhapsodic feel, as if Bach was rather hoping that a more memorable theme would come to him (but didn’t). The Fugue did the things a fugue is supposed to do, and Kovacev handled it with impressive clarity and confidence, its interesting turns and its testing of the sharply contrasted pursuit of the evolving fugal patterns.

Lilburn’s Sonatina No 2 of 1962 – late in his tonal-writing career – is also pretty unfamiliar. It is included in Vol 4 of the Trust CDs of Lilburn’s piano music recorded by Dan Poynton; it’s also to be found in a YouTube performance by New Zealand pianist Jeffrey Grice in Paris, where he introduces it, commenting interestingly on its thematic similarity (tenuous I think) with Ravel’s Sonatine. It certainly represents, like the third symphony, a step towards a more modernist idiom than is found in most of the more familiar music from the 1940s and 50s, but repays repeated hearings. This was an authoritative and thoroughly convincing interpretation.

From the same Opus number, 3, as the Prelude in C sharp minor came Rachmaninov’s Elegie in E flat. Over a continuous rolling bass, its elegiac quality is hardly of a grief-stricken kind – rather just pensive and soberly contemplative. It has a lovely limpid middle section that reaches a slightly unexpected climax before returning to section A. This piece, from a sharply different era and style from the two earlier pieces, found the pianist in admirable control.

Finally a more familiar piece by the 18-year-old Mendelssohn, though I wonder how familiar is today; the Andante and Rondo capriccioso is a sort of bon-bon that I first heard in my teens on the Dinner Music programme of the then 2YC channel (now RNZ Concert), played I think by Julius Katchen. Kovacev negotiated the rambling, rhapsodic introduction interestingly before the Allegro Rondo section takes off that, despite the pianist’s only noticeable, minor smudge, proved a delightful way to end the concert.

The trio is competing in this year’s NZCT Chamber Music Contest, the semi-finals and finals of which will be in Wellington in the weekend of 1-2 August. We wish them, and of course the other competing groups that were heard at the 1 June concert, success.

 

 

Admirable, heart-warming concert closes an inspiring NZSM chamber music weekend

Combined Final Concert of the 2015 NZSM Queen’s Birthday Chamber Music Weekend
The culmination of the weekend

Adam Concert Room, Victoria University

Monday 1 June, 1:30 pm

The New Zealand School of Music helped keep the Queen’s Birthday road toll down by attracting scores of secondary and tertiary students to a sort of immersion programme that would prepare secondary school competitors in the NZCT Chamber Music Contest and general tuition for chamber music groups in a communal atmosphere, and keep them off the roads.

It had been a busy week for many of the participants, as I noticed the names of about ten of the players in the Wellington Youth Orchestra on Friday evening were among those at this Monday afternoon concert.

The Chamber Music Weekend had coincided and in some way combined with the school of music’s Classical Saxophone Festival, and student saxophonists as well as a couple of tutors contributed to the concert. Otherwise the programme consisted of a series of string and piano trios. While Debbie Rawson led the saxophone section, Helene Pohl and New Zealand String Quartet colleagues Douglas Beilman and Rolf Gjelsten led in the general chamber music area.

The School of Music Saxophone Quartet opened the concert with a couple of pieces that they’d played in the Wednesday concert of the school’s Showcase at St Andrew’s on The Terrace. Excellent individual performances, though I felt that their sound would have coalesced better if they had placed themselves further back from the audience.

Almost all the groups announced their music, some well projected, some not so well; but the practice is very important, for to be a live musician involves more than just musical skill and talent. Delivery: speech comfortably paced; don’t gabble composers’ names and musical terms and titles; make it sound as if you’re really interested.

A string trio was next, by Taneyev (stress on second syllable – Tanyéyev), and played by the eponymous group. Though written early in the 20th century, for two violins and a viola, it sounded remarkably Haydnish, showing little of the influence of Tchaikovsky, his teacher and life-long friend. Here was a creditable performance from a promising young trio of a piece that was not overtly very interesting.

The Alsergrund Trio (cellist Tessa told us that’s the Vienna suburb when Schubert was born), played their namesake’s first piano trio and made a very good job of it, both individually and as an ensemble. Their playing of the first movement was bold and confident, fully justifying their courage in taking on one of the great masterpieces of the repertoire.

It would have come as a pleasant surprise to many to hear the set of three songs by Glinka (we hear too little Russian song), attractively arranged for piano and two violins – the violins making as if the songs really were lovely duets. (I wondered why the title of the three songs was in German: I don’t see a group of Glinka’s songs so-named).  All three players acquitted themselves beautifully.

The first half ended with the opening movement of Smetana’s anguished piano trio in which the oddly named Melodious Thunk (what connection with the great jazz pianist?) captured the drama and the close-to-the-surface emotion. All players were in command of it, though the piano was a bit loud: I was tempted single out cellist Bethany Angus, in particular, but it would be invidious to attempt singling out.

A solo saxophone piece opened the second half: Tomomi Johnston demonstrated an understanding of Piazzolla’s style, and we could hear the breathing challenges that she managed very well.

The rather forgotten but slowly being revived Benjamin Goddard has not been known for much other than his opera Jocelyn; famous for a lovely Berceuse. These movements from Six Duettini, were charming music which the three very young-looking players, called Trio Souvenirs, handled sympathetically and very musically.

The Debussy Trio played his very early and unfamiliar piano trio (only rediscovered in recent years); all three captured the tone of the work, which reflected Fauré’s very strong influence, in a performance of, was it two or three(?), movements. The three players didn’t blend very comfortably, but I suspect the reason lay more with Debussy’s inexperience in his teens; nevertheless they played with impressive confidence and accuracy.

Two of the weekend’s saxophone tutors broke the domination by violins and pianos with three amusing Conversations by Richard Rodney Bennett: two baritone saxophones exhibited accord and sympathy and mild dissent.

To play Saint-Saëns’s second piano trio, a particularly impressive group, named after the composer, awakened me to the first movement of a piece I didn’t know: another persuasive exhibit for the defence and rehabilitation in the court of his reputation.

Finally came the ‘other’ piano trio of Shostakovich; that written when at the Leningrad Conservatorium in 1923. Lyrical, light-hearted though far from straight-forward, with several moments of curious complexity, it has been called “the most romantic music that Shostakovich ever wrote”. It too was revelatory, in the hands of Trio Glivenko (Who? S. fell in love with Tatyana Glivenko as he was recovering from tuberculosis in Crimea, and dedicated the work to her). The trio included two musicians who’d greatly impressed me earlier, Bethany Angus and Claudia Tarrant-Matthews (now at the piano, having been the accomplished violinist in the Debussy), plus the equally talented Shweta Iyer: confidence, in total command.

I had hoped to discover more details about the music, about the groups that performed, where they came from, which ones were competitors in the forthcoming NZCT Chamber Music Contest, which were at university level. And I’d wondered why there were no groups of wind instrument players.

However, this was an admirable initiative which I hope becomes a regular event. School of Music director Euan Murdoch remarked during the interval that the high achievement of young New Zealanders in the field of chamber music is admired internationally. The work of Chamber Music New Zealand and the various programmes undertaken with the universities, particularly Victoria, are helping compensate for the increasing neglect of the arts in general, and classical music in particular, by most primary and secondary schools.

 

A new Baroque ensemble on a cold evening at Wesley Church, Taranaki Street, musical strengths, but…

Camerata: Haydn in the Church

Handel: Concerto Grosso, Op.6 no.9
Alessandro Marcello: Oboe concerto in D minor
Haydn:. Symphony no.1

Camerata, led by Anne Loeser, with Peter Dykes (oboe)

Wesley Church, Taranaki Street

Thursday, 28 May 2015, 5.45pm

Camerata is a new, small chamber orchestra.  Anne Loeser is a violinist in the New Zealand Symphony Orchestra, where Peter Dykes also plays.  For the first item, the group consisted of four violins, viola, cello and double bass; only the latter two instruments were played by males (not counting Peter Dykes).

Its programme was attractive, but the hour-long concert did not attract any more than a small audience.  Other negatives were the lack of a printed programme, and above all, the fact that the church was not heated.  On a cold winter’s night, that made the experience much less enjoyable than it should have been.  I was tempted to leave between items on this account alone; my feet, neck and hands were very cold, despite a woolly jumper and a thick coat.

The Handel concerto grosso is a most appealing work.  I did not hear all the introductory comments from the lectern, although there seemed to be some connection with the composer’s organ concerto that is usually given the subtitle ‘The Cuckoo and the Nightingale’.  Perhaps it was too cold a night for these birds; I was not aware of them.  Wikipedia says “The second and third movements are reworkings of the first two movements Handel’s organ concerto in F major, HWV 295, often referred to as “The cuckoo and the nightingale”, because of the imitation of birdsong.

The playing was fine, and idiomatically baroque.  The contrasts between the movements was delightful.  The fast final movement was not quite as accurate as the earlier ones.

Next, oboist Peter Dykes entered, to play Marcello’s oboe concerto – the one commandeered by Bach for a harpsichord concerto (no.3).  This was splendid oboe playing, with appropriate ornamentation according to the practice of the Baroque period.  Marcello was roughly contemporaneous with J.S. Bach.  The adagio slow movement is particularly beautiful.

After its solemnity comes the delightful third movement, presto.  Again, lots of flourishes ornamented the movement gloriously.  The piece is not easy; it is pitched high in the oboe register throughout.

Then came the Haydn in the Church: his Symphony no.1.  Now two horn players were added to the chamber orchestra.  I could hazard a guess at their names, but as one was hidden behind the viola player, I couldn’t be sure.

This is a very bright and enchanting work.  The oboe and horns play in the first and third movements but not in the andante second movement.  The whole was played gracefully with a splendid variety of dynamics. In the second movement for strings alone, I couldn’t help remembering the Baroque Players of old, founded and directed by Peter Walls – a former Wellington-based chamber orchestra.

Intonation was not always perfect, particularly in this movement.  I wondered if the players’ fingers were cold.

The presto finale had the winds back in fine fettle. Altogether, this was a series of creditable performances.  More credit would have accrued if the church had been heated.

 

The strings of the School of Music take turn with wonderful Bach programme for St Andrew’s

New Zealand School of Music Showcase Week at St Andrew’s

The string players in an all-Bach programme

Violin sonata No 1 in G minor, BWV 1001 – Adagio played by Katie-Lee Taylor
           Fugue played by Matt Cook
Cello suite No 2 in D minor, BWV 1008 – Prelude played by Olivia Wilding
Violin Partita No 3 in E, BWV 1006, Loure and Gavotte en rondeau – played by Grace Stainthorpe
Brandenburg Concerto No 3 in G, BWV 1048 played by the above students plus 15 others

St Andrew’s on The Terrace

Thursday 28 May, 12:15 pm

This was the last of the four concerts devoted to student players from the university School of Music.  Perhaps in future years we’ll also have concerts from woodwind and brass players, and singers, even organists and harpsichordists and percussionists; but these four have shown that it’s possible to attract good audiences more than just once a week. The limitation is no doubt the level of energy that the unpaid concert manager Marjan van Waardenberg can call up, and the availability of the church. (And it also should be pointed out that all musicians perform unpaid at the lunchtime concerts).

The first half hour of the concert was taken up with individual violinists and a cellist playing movements from Bach’s unaccompanied suites and sonatas.

Violinists Katie-Lee Taylor and Matt Cook began playing, in turn, the first two movements, Adagio
and Fugue, from the first violin sonata, in G minor. It was an admirable performance of the Adagio, with all the signs of careful tutorial guidance and music intuition on Taylor’s part, scrupulous attention to dynamics and the shaping or ornaments. There was interesting variety of tone and an organic feeling of life as if the music was breathing.

While she had played with the score before her, Matt Cook played from memory and paid a small price for that in the middle of what is certainly a difficult and complex fugue; so his courage and demeanour were to be admired in his recovery and persistence, though the experience somewhat affected the freedom and elasticity of his playing for a little while. The audience applauded him warmly.

Another minor key piece was the choice of Olivia Wilding – the Prelude from the second cello suite in D minor. Her handling of the bow created a lovely tone, mellow (at one point I craned my head to see whether she had put a mute on) and varied in dynamics, and she allowed herself attractive freedom in her tempi. She used a score.

Grace Stainthorpe ended the solo section of the concert with the Loure and the most popular movement from the violin sonatas and suites, the Gavotte en rondeau, from the third partita. Bravely, she dispensed with the score, with only a minor glitch during the Gavotte. Her playing was careful, and like the others, showed fastidious attention to its phrasing and rhythms, though I thought she might have exploited her opportunities for emphatic bowing occasionally.

There was a lot of stage rearrangement to accommodate the full ensemble – the five cellos (though six were named in the programme) arrayed at the front while violins flanked the violas in the middle of the back row.

While a couple of programmes in this series taxed their audiences (and themselves) by playing unfamiliar music, the strings made no apologies for playing great music, most of which was pretty well known by the average lunchtime-concert-goer. Few works are more loved than the Brandenburg concertos, and No 3 might well be at the top. The music might have almost played itself, but there was no missing the special affection that the players managed to convey in their buoyant, spirited performance. Professor Donald Maurice conducted and he introduced the concerto briefly to draw attention to the Calvinist environment of Prince Leopold of Anhalt-Cöthen where Bach composed this and much other instrumental music. There was no choir or organ, but a musical Prince who valued Bach who wrote little other than instrumental music for the court.

Maurice noted that the non-existent middle, slow movement was to be supplied by a cadenza played by the orchestra leader, Laura Barton and it was indeed a chance for another excellent solo presentation, involving a splendid crescendo.  Much of the liveliness and warmth of the performance was inspired by Maurice’s expansive, richly expressive conducting, with plenty of cues; whether it did or not for the players, it contributed a fine visual element that the audience enjoyed, and applauded enthusiastically.

 

Revival of Victoria Voices for all-comers a welcome return

New Zealand School of Music Te Koki

Music by Mozart, Fauré, Seiber, Hatfield, Krommer, Saint-Saëns

Victoria Voices, conducted by Robert Legg; chamber music ensembles

Hunter Council Chamber, Victoria University of Wellington

Wednesday, 27 May 2015, 7.30pm

The varied programme was presented to a modest-sized audience.

Victoria Voices  was promoted as a new ensemble, but in a sense it is a revival; the School of Music has had choirs before, but not for a number of years.  Of course, the students in it were probably not in its predecessors. There are approx. 50 singers in this all-comers choir of students and staff from various faculties of the university (previous incarnations were auditioned).

Conductor Robert Legg spoke to the audience, but it was a pity he didn’t tell us a little about the less familiar composer: Stephen Hatfield (19156-). Wikipedia tells me that he is a Canadian choral composer and conductor.  His website contains many plaudits.

Legg was very much in charge of the choir, and drew from its members a very pleasing tone, excellent Latin pronunciation in Mozart’s well-known and well-loved Ave Verum Corpus (K.618), together with a most musical performance.  He needs to be aware that too much physical movement from the conductor is distracting for audiences, particularly bending at the knees frequently.  The piano accompaniment from Chelsea Whitfield could have been a little softer.

Fauré’s Cantique de Jean Racine (Op.11) was written when the composer was only 19 years old.  It is a very lovely piece, and delightful to sing.  Here, particularly, the dynamics were well managed, with good attention to detail, but there is yet insufficient blend.

Mátyás Seiber’s  Three Hungarian Folk Songs, the first of which is repeated after the second song, were sung in English, which enabled the audience to understand the humorous words.  These songs, plus the following item, were sung unaccompanied.  There was good attack and articulation in the Seiber, in both words and notes.  The choir obviously has learned the music well, and sang in an appropriately spirited manner.  Here again, the tone was engaging, and now the blend was better.

The Hatfield piece, Living in a Holy City, began in unison – this is often dangerous territory, but the choir managed it well.  This quite complex music was written in multiple parts as the piece
moved on.

Although there were breaks in the programme, there was no interval; this was rather too long a concert to leave the audience sitting without an opportunity to stretch the legs!

Promoted as the launch concert of Victoria Voices, it nevertheless seemed to me that the chamber music content was rather larger than the choral.

The first chamber music item was actually two: Oboe Quartets by Franz Krommer (1759-1831).  I did not completely hear the spoken introduction, but heard that there were four movements; it appeared that there were four movements in total, so perhaps not all of each quartet was played.  The first began as quite straightforward music; the oboe playing was very fine and the violin good, but not always on the spot intonation-wise.  The lower parts seemed relatively easy to play. There was an attractive tone from all players.  A movement in a minor key was played very expressively, and playing passages with detached notes was done with considerable delicacy.

The final quick movement was very will articulated.  This was playing of a high standard, of music that was not the most complicated, but there were tricky passages.  Annabel Lovatt (oboe), Grace Stainthorpe (violin), Craig Drummond-Nairn (viola) and Elena Morgan (cello) performed with considerable accomplishment.

France was to the fore in the rest of the programme, firstly with Nicole Ting (piano), Matthew Cook (violin) and Lavinnia Rae (cello) playing two movements of Piano Trio no.2, Op.92 of Saint-Saëns
(Fauré’s teacher).

In the opening section the piano-playing was far too blurred (i.e. too much pedal), and had neither enough clarity nor sufficient volume to match with the other instruments.  The strings were strong and confident, with good dynamic range; the players had the feel of the work.  The piano came into its own in later loud passages, and then the players really became a trio.  Themes were treated in subtle fashion.

The second movement featured a gorgeous opening theme from the violin, followed by the piano.  Later, the cello took it up sonorously.  There was much fast finger-work for the piano, with very quiet pizzicato accompaniment from the strings.  The movement had plenty of variety, rhythmically as well as melodically.

Now to the pupil: Fauré’s Nocturne and En Prière for violin (Laura Barton) and harp (Michelle Velvin).  What could be more French than the harp?   Michelle wore a short dress, and thus the audience could see her feet changing the pedals.  It was a slow piece but both performers played it very well.

The second piece, like the first, required a lot of independence in the parts; both players produced gorgeous tone.

The Saint-Saëns Fantaisie for violin and harp was understated, but full of meditative gestures, and some drama as well. The two young women (in red dresses, as against the dull black of the other instrumentalists) are both fine musicians.  There was lots of double-stopping for the violin and glissandi for the harp.  It was quite a long work, and seemed to me to run out of inspiration.  However, the playing revealed great rapport between the musicians, and they did the piece proud.

Music of all kinds is in good heart at the School of Music, as this week’s numbers of concerts reveals.

 

An evening’s enjoyment of wonderful things in Lower Hutt

Hutt Valley Chamber Music presents:
Vesa-Matti Leppänen (violin)
Julia Joyce (viola)
Andrew Joyce (‘cello)
Diedre Irons (piano)

HAYDN – String Trio in G Major Op.53 No.1
FRANCK – Sonata for Violin and Piano (1886)
BRAHMS – Piano Quartet in C Minor Op.60

Little Theatre, Lower Hutt

Monday 25th May, 2015

The programme devised for this concert certainly made the most of the music and the performers, as well as pleasing the audience no end – having works for variously two, three and four musicians provided plenty of variety, while the performances established and maintained levels of skill, intensity, beauty and enjoyment that would have graced a recital platform anywhere in the world.

On the face of things, hardest-working of the quartet of musicians was violinist Vesa-Matti Leppänen, usually concertmaster of the New Zealand Symphony Orchestra, but here as fully involved in duo, trio and quartet partnerships, his playing a common and unifying thread throughout the evening’s music.

And what colleagues he had! – two of his orchestral colleagues, both (like Vesa-Matti) leaders of their particular sections in the NZSO, violist Julia Joyce and ‘cellist Andrew Joyce (partners in real life, of course), and the incomparable Diedre Irons at the piano – all, incidentally, local musicians!

The Haydn Trio began with a variation movement, lovely, lilting phrases, the dance firmly, but also winningly characterized – the composer again and again showed his inventiveness in creating delightful discourses from such deceptively simple material, with each instrument getting its chance to cheekily counterpoint the basic, unprepossessing theme. Then in the second and final movement, the pace quickened to a scamper, punctuated by pauses and dynamic contrasts – now tender and touching, now brilliant and decorative, the trio’s teamwork exemplary.

A good thing I’ve never grown tired of hearing Cesar Franck’s deservedly well-loved Violin Sonata – because, despite its technical difficulties and emotional “stretches” it regularly comes up in recital programs. Here, for me, the most fascinating aspect of the performance was the interaction of what might have seemed like two temperamentally different musicians, charged by cosmic circumstance with bringing the work to life.

While admiring the elegance and skill of Vesa-Matti Leppänen’s violin playing on the occasions I’ve heard him demonstrate his art, I’ve always though of him as a cool, somewhat detached and “contained” player – different sorts of qualities one would expect of an ideal interpreter of this work. And now, here he was, about to perform it with a colleague whom I’ve long regarded as one of music’s greatest and warmest communicators, pianist Diedre Irons.

As it turned out, each player was a near-perfect “foil” for the other in this music – and in any case the composer’s history as a “young virtuoso lion” of the keyboard meant that the writing’s focus often swung towards the pianist – no mere “violin with accompaniment” with this work! This fusion of styles I thought enriched the performance, with whole episodes seemingly given over to each player’s strengths and beautifully weighted by both in overall terms.

What did delight me the most, however, was hearing the violinist respond to his partner’s red-blooded manner at appropriate places – so full measure was given to the exhilaration of the second movement’s concluding measures, as well as the “deeply-dug” recitatives and the inwardness of the introspections in the slow movement. And I loved Vesa-Matti’s “full-bow” treatment of the return of that movement’s “big tune” in the finale – which moment, of course, Diedre Irons’ playing magnificently orchestrated, before scampering back down the hills towards the more circumspect undulations of the opening, and the ritual of its final canonic dance.

All hands came upon deck for the evening’s final work, Brahms’ epic C Minor Piano Quartet. Though this was the third such work written by the composer, and with a later opus number than its companions, the three quartets were sketched out at the same time – the C Minor work reflects Brahms’ involvement with the Schumanns, Robert and Clara, from the time that Robert had been committed to the asylum.

Brahms took twenty years to work through his various and contradictory feelings regarding what the music was trying to express. Originally set in C#Minor, the work’s key was changed to C Minor, Brahms developing his feelings from those of a hopeless lover (C#Minor was E.T.A.Hoffman’s famous character Kreisler, one whose influence on Schumann was evident in his piano suite “Kreisleriana”), to heroism amid struggle (exemplified by Beethoven’s frequent use of C Minor). These two feelings make themselves known, cheek-to-jowl, right at the pieces’ beginning, with the piano’s octaves (forceful expression) and the string’s “dying fall” motif perhaps representing characters in the drama to follow.

Drama it certainly was here, in huge shovelfuls, with powerful outbursts of concerted energy having their say, before giving way to a beautifully-extended and lyrical second group, weaving the opening descending figure into the argument in both minor and major modes, as well as contrasting the tragic with the heroic. The players, together and separately, conjured up massive trenchant utterances in contrast to the tenderness they also found in more lyrical moments, a beautiful exchange between viola and violin causing the piano to sing with the utmost pleasure in response.

The piano leapt first into the scherzo’s fray before the others took the plunge – though the music seemed uncertain whether to exult or snarl in places, the group roller-coastered all of us up and over the movement’s formidable hill-crests in exhilarating style. And no sooner had we regained our breath than the loveliest ‘cello-playing one could imagine was upon our ears courtesy of Andrew Joyce, introducing the slow movement with sounds that fell as gratefully as sunbeams on previously storm-tossed flowers of the fields.

Vesa-Matti Leppänen’s violin then added to our pleasure with its own voice  extending the melody in duet with the ‘cello. Not to be left out, the viola deftly and mellifluously duetted with each of its string-partners, Julia Joyce’s tones as transparent as a violin’s in places, and as mellow and mysterious as a cello’s in others. And Diedre Irons surely and sweetly marked the  piano’s place in the movement’s “continuous melody” by a tenderly-phrased reprise of the melody as sensitive and atmospheric as any.

Urgency and anxiety drove the ensemble at the finale’s beginning, the piano’s “perpetuo mobile” breaking off only momentarily for some hymn-like chords from the strings which were picked up and swept away once again in the maelstrom of it all. The players caught the “throes” of the music at its heart, by turns skittish and impulsive, with the sinuous lines frequently losing their momentum and having to regroup their energies – what intensities were carried through by the drive of the piano figurations and the sonorous string utterances!

One felt at the end a kind of “haunted relief” in the music, besides some Brahmsian exultation – ironically, the kind of ambivalence that Schumann would have recognized, as befitted his own struggles with life and art. A great and moving performance, then, of stirring, deeply-etched music, part of a rich and variegated evening’s enjoyment of wonderful things.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Auckland Ensemble in delightful programme at Waikanae, but need time to mature in ensemble and articulation

Auckland Ensemble (Caroline Almonte, piano; Leo Phillips, violin; Serenity Thurlow, viola; Edith Salzmann, cello)
(Waikanae Music Society) 

Mozart: Piano quartet no.1 in G minor K.178 (allegro, andante, rondo allegro)
Brahms: Piano quartet no.3 in C minor, Op 60 (allegro non troppo, scherzo: allegro,
andante, allegro comodo)
Schumann: Piano quartet in E flat major, Op.47 (sostenuto assai – allegro ma non troppo, scherzo: molto vivace – trio I – trio II, andante cantabile, vivace)

Waikanae Memorial Hall

Sunday 17 May 2015, 2.30pm

An interesting and attractive programme did not, nevertheless, attract as large an audience as has attended many of the Society’s concerts.  Was it the welcome fine, sunny weather after so much rain recently that proved more enticing than sitting in a hall?

Edith Salzmann, formerly cello teacher at Canterbury University, is now teaching the instrument at the University of Auckland, where violist Serenity Thurlow is also teaching.  Leo Phillips (UK) is a visiting tutor at the same university, and Caroline Almonte (Australia) is giving master-classes there.

The Mozart work is quite a well-known one, but despite the first movement being played slower than I have heard it before, it seemed to find the Ensemble less than cohesive as a group, especially in the tone department, in the first movement. The viola tone disappointed, and for my taste, there was excessive slurring of the melody line on the violin; I would expect a crisper articulation for Mozart, and fewer intonation wobbles.  Pianist Caroline Almonte’s playing was delightful, and beautifully articulated. The andante featured some fine playing, and the lively allegro movement demonstrated more uniformity of tone, therefore blend.  However, it also revealed some of the same faults of articulation and intonation as the first movement, and in the latter part of the movement all three stringed instruments were slightly under the note at times.

The Brahms work I was not particularly familiar with.  A fiery opening led to a more tranquil section, soon disturbed by more vehemence, to be followed by more tranquility.  In this work the viola tone was stronger and warmer.  Certainly, this is a Romantic work, while the Mozart is Classical, implying a different approach.  The cello pitch disappointed periodically. The scherzo of the second movement was full of verve and dynamic changes, to the point of sometimes being abrasive.  The beautiful andante with its wonderful opening cello solo with soft piano accompaniment sang like a mellifluous song.  It puzzles me why Brahms never wrote a cello concerto.  He is reputed to have said, on hearing Dvořàk’s cello concerto ‘If I’d known a cello concerto could be like this, I would have written one’, or words to that effect.  Yet both this and the wonderful cello solo in his second piano concerto seem to cry out for being part of a concerto. 

Later, the piano takes up the theme; this was played in a delightfully delicate manner, then was joined by the cello with a lovely depth of tone and expression, to be followed by the other strings.  The movement seems to express nostalgia and deep feeling. The allegro finale introduces a violin solo with piano accompaniment.  Again there were intonation glitches – not major, to be sure.  The other strings join in boisterously, before a chorale-like passage, the melody and harmony gently spelt out over a rippling piano accompaniment, before the excitement returns.  Reiteration of the cello theme from the previous movement, including on the piano, and variations thereon gave interest and variety to this movement.

Schumann’s marvellous piano quartet has special significance for me, so I was greatly looking forward to a live performance of it.  After a spooky, sotto voce chord, we are immediately into the four-chord theme that dominates the movement, in both solemn and jocund moods.  (Did Sibelius consciously or unconsciously base the opening of his famous soulful hymn-like theme in Finlandia on this tune?)  The pianissimo on the piano was both chilling and thrilling. 

The Schumann work found the ensemble much better blended.  The scherzo and its two trios were joyous, and skilfully played.  As the programme note put it, “nimble with a sense of urgency.” The andante features a sublime melody on viola and violin, later tellingly repeated on the cello.  For this movement, the cello had to re-tune her bottom string from C to B-flat, and then tune it back to C for the vivace finale, which was a brisk and busy movement.

This was a wonderful programme, but I was disappointed in its execution.  It seems that this group of players have not had enough time together to ‘jell’; their situation is very different from established quartets such as the New Zealand String Quartet, where blended tone is marked.  My remarks about intonation perhaps need to be seen in light of the temperature.  Unusually for this hall, I found myself cold after the first work, and had to add a garment earlier discarded.  The heaters were put on in the interval, and this improved matters; they were not left on for the last work, but this was not necessary.  It may have been that the players’ fingers were cold, and that this affected intonation and articulation.

When the members of the ensemble took their bows, Caroline Almonte gestured to the piano, revealing her delight in playing on the Society’s Fazioli grand piano.