A musical machine plus Bartók and Sibelius from NZSM Orchestra

New Zealand School of Music Orchestra, conducted by Kenneth Young with Vivian Stephens (violin)

Johannes Contag: Starting the Robot; Sibelius: Violin Concerto, Op 47; Bartók: Concerto for Orchestra

Cathedral of the Sacred Heart

Friday 8 October, 7.30pm

From now and into the fourth term, concerts by performance students at the New Zealand School of Music crop up in a variety of venues across the city. They are in part to fulfil the course requirements and in part to make the city aware of gifted young musicians being schooled there.

The orchestra itself consists of most of the students of orchestral instruments; they numbered about 55 of the members of the orchestra, though it is appropriate to note that there are several sections with few or no students and that have to be filled by guests, mainly from the NZSO. Lacking are any oboes – a surprise, and there are insufficient violists, cellists and double bassists, and horn players.

But accepting that those sections were equipped with professionals, the splendid playing by the great majority of sections was the work of students, driven in the most colourful and lively way by Kenneth Young.

The concert opened with a new piece by a student composer, Johannes Contag, that took its character from the sounds and the metaphysical nature of the machine – the thing created by man and whose operation is controlled less and less by man. I found it entertaining, as it was very effectively driven by rhythmic pulses suggesting an accelerating and then slowing of a piston-driven machine.  Melodic ideas were less significant but the structure, imposed from the outside, created a satisfying entity. The performance gave it an excellent presentation.

Sibelius’s Violin Concerto has such attractive qualities, and offers such rewarding work for the soloist that it’s hard not to delight in it. The soloist, Vivian Stephens, had played it to win the School of Music’s concerto competition a few months ago. His performance on a fine, warm instrument, was most impressive, exhibiting a mature command, at least in the first two movements, of both technicalities and musical texture and phrasing that created beautiful and varied sounds that were very satisfying: he negotiated the first movement cadenza with great skill.

In the third movement there were early signs of slightly less confidence, and a memory lapse later on, But he recovered admirably and conductor and violinist brought it, overbearing acoustic and all, to an splendid finish.

Bartók’s Concerto for Orchestra is a big challenge for a non-professional orchestra, exposing all instruments very deliberately. The first movement is the most substantial, a complex pattern that makes ever-changing demands on many sections, slowly building from tentative flute passages through beguiling bluesy brass chords to a state of exhilaration.

The ‘game of pairs’ that is the second movement, predominantly light of texture, offered evidence of the orchestra’s quality without too much overweight bass: muted trumpets, clarinets… The quality of string playing was clear in the Elegia, from the notable double basses, through piccolo and timpani. 

In the Intermezzo I am usually puzzled by Bartók’s mocking of the tune in Shostakovich’s 7th symphony, failing to recognise the Russian’s purpose in that work. Far from belittling Shostakovich, I feel it diminishes Bartók’s own work, once one is aware of the connection. However, the orchestra followed the movement’s curious pathway unerringly. The last movement is an extended dance-driven Presto, though not really so fast till the accelerating, attacking tutti passages towards the end.  

It was a brilliant performance that deserved to be in a more accommodating acoustic space.

NZSM showcase for viola and violin students

Bartók: Viola Concerto – movements II and III; Rebecca Clarke: Viola
Sonata – movements I and II; Glinka: Viola Sonata – first movement; Reger: Solo
Viola Suite No 3 in E minor – fourth movement; Khachaturian: Violin Concerto –
first movement

Gillian Ansell and Douglas Mews and students from the New Zealand School
of Music

St Andrew’s on The Terrace

Wednesday 6 October 12.15pm

There was a relatively large audience at this concert that featured two
violists and a violinist and they were rewarded both with some out-of-the-way
music and by hearing some talented players.

Though it was advertised as a concert of violists, it was, rather, a
showcase for three students of Gillian Ansell, violist in the New Zealand
String Quartet, at the New Zealand School of Music, one of whom, Karla Norton,
was a violinist. She, with the buoyant support of Douglas Mews at the piano,
made Khachaturian’s splendid violin concerto sound almost as if he’d written it
as a sonata for violin and piano: she played the brilliantly tuneful first
movement with accurate intonation, its phrases confidently shaped and polished.
Though a violinist, she is a pupil of Gillian Ansell’s; as a third year
student, her performance stood out as a little more accomplished than her two
violist colleagues who were in their second year.

The pieces
played by Leoni Wittchou and Megan Ward were, like so much of the viola
repertoire, unfamiliar. Leoni played two movements from Rebecca Clarke’s Viola
Sonata, a most rewarding piece by this British violist and composer, written in
1919. Though not tainted by serialism, it sounded absolutely of its age,
speaking in a voice that sounded authentic and individual. Leoni had absorbed
its idiom and managed to unravel its dense harmonies and rather complex
rhythmic character, conveying a confidence and assurance that was rather
impressive. After playing the first movement, Impetuoso, (it alone was
scheduled) she played the short allegro second movement, which was playful and
demanding.

Megan Ward was the second violist: she chose the first movement of an
unfinished, early viola sonata by Glinka that bore hardly any of the Russian characteristics
for which he was later renowned. It had little to recommend it: sentimental in
tone, uncertain in the handling of its themes, like a struggling pupil of
someone like John Field. Megan made a sterling effort with it, but her playing
was marred by intonation flaws and the insecurities of a student at her stage
of development.

She followed the Glinka piece with the fourth movement of a solo viola
suite (No 3) by Max Reger, and she succeeded in creating from this Bach-like
piece, musical shapes that could easily have remained sterile strings of notes.

Behind all the performances, save the Reger, was the piano support from
Douglas Mews which provided interesting textures and sustained interest where
the viola might have sagged. Nowhere
was his part more arresting than in the first piece in the programme: the
second and third movements of Bartok’s Viola Concerto (in the completion by
Csaba Erdelyi). Here was the chance for the teacher, Gillian Ansell, to be
heard in a role not normally available to her. Viola and piano were in
wonderful accord: the piano providing almost all the harmonic interest that one
would expect of an orchestra, and the viola demonstrating a mastery of this
difficult work that one would expect only from a seasoned solo musician. It was
a simply splendid performance, making me wonder when an orchestra
might engage her to play the entire concerto.

 

Opera Scenes at New Zealand School of Music

Opera Scenes: Passionate Choices: Love & Duty from Purcell to Britten via Mozart and Strauss (with a dash of Offenbach)

Fifteen Voice Students

Adam Concert Room, Victoria University

Saturday, 2 October, 7.30pm

While it is a pity that there was no university opera this year, after the brilliant Semele last year, the concert in which 10 opera scenes were performed was quite an ambitious undertaking.  There was considerable variety, but enough of each opera to give more than a taste, and to allow the singers to really get into the characters.  It is good news for music in this country that there are so many singers who are capable of performing these roles.

The audience were placed facing towards the southern end of the Adam Concert Room.  Behind the area used as a stage were two beautiful red and black shot- silk curtains of ample proportions; the performers entered through the space between them.

The evening began with the quintet from Act I of Così fan tutte, by Mozart.  This contains the famous and beautiful trio for Fiordiligi, Dorabella and Don Alfonso ‘Soave sia il vento’.  The singers were very assured and the men, particularly, were excellent – Norman Pati, who had a nice turn of comedy, and Joshua Kidd, who was not quite so confident.  Dorabella (Elitsa Kappatos) produced a more mellow tone than did Angelique MacDonald as Fiordiligi (perhaps to be expected since the former is a mezzo role), but both knew their parts and their movements well, and were able to enter into the story fully.  Indeed, this was true of all the performers throughout the concert.  The placing of Don Alfonso (Thomas Barker) behind the two women for most of the trio was a disadvantage for his projection, and the ensemble between the three singers.  Costumes of 1920s appearance were excellent, and fun.

The sextet from later in Act I followed.   Now Fiordiligi was sung by Bryony Williams, while the other parts were taken by the same singers as in the quintet.  All the singers were powerful, and the parts were well characterised. 

It is wonderful what can be done with minimal sets, minimal props, beautiful costumes and beautiful, well-trained voices.  Bruce Greenfield accompanied.  I did not think he was up to his usual very high standard – perhaps it was the piano?   I found the Mozart over-pedalled, and much of the accompanying too loud.  This is probably largely due to the polished wooden floor and wooden ceiling.  I have seen, both here and at St. Andrew’s on The Terrace, heavy fabric placed under the piano to achieve a quieter tone.

Two scenes from Purcell’s Dido and Aeneas and two from The Turn of the Screw by Britten, were directed by one of the performers, post-graduate student Laura Dawson.  She appeared first as the Sorceress in ‘Wayward Sisters’, that wonderfully chilling witches’ incantation.  The ensemble singing with her fellow witches (Emily Simcox, Amelia Ryman, Joshua Kidd and Isaac Stone) was superb.  I would have found a deeper voice better for the Sorceress; Dawson sang much better where the music was in the higher register.  Imaginative stage business was a tribute to her invention.

The famous Dido’s Lament scene followed, after Bruce Greenfield had played (as happened elsewhere in the programme) some of the orchestral music between the scenes, which not only gave more of the feeling of the operas, but gave time for the crew (the singers themselves) to change the props, while two cloaked characters walked through with large placards stating the names of the operas and the locations of the scenes.

Laura Dawson sang Dido, Thomas Barker, Aeneas, and Belinda was very well acted and sung by Emily Simcox, who was in fine voice.  The whole scene was very effectively done, including the use of props.  The famous Lament was beautiful, except for the pronunciation of the word ‘earth’, which cut off the sound quite unnecessarily, and overdone ‘t’s – there is no need for this in a small auditorium.

That brings me to another point: it is a pity that the students do not have a ‘proper’ auditorium in which to put on opera, or scenes from opera.  They have all learned to project their voices and their words well (although some singers needed more vocal support), but projecting as if in an opera house in the Adam Concert Room leads to quite unnecessarily loud volume.  It is to be hoped that the planned new School of Music on the Ilott Green will go ahead, and include a theatre.  In the meantime, is the Theatrette at Massey University (the former National Museum Theatrette) not suitable?

The scenes from the Britten opera were, of course, something completely different; Britten was a great admirer of Purcell, and is regarded as the best English opera composer since Purcell.

The spooky mood of the opera came over well, partly due to excellent projection of the words.  The performers made the scenes thoroughly involving.  Bridget Costello as the governess and Laura Dawson as Mrs Grose, the housekeeper, were very believable characters in ‘The Window’ from Act I, and again in Act II’s scene about the ghost of the former governess.  It was very well directed, and Costello was outstanding both vocally and in her acting.

After the interval the mood changed completely, with three excerpts from Offenbach’s La Vie Parisienne.  What was innovative here was that the libretto had been devised and written by the cast and director.  Therefore they gained experience in developing characters.  There were two tables at a café in Paris (presumably out-of-doors, since one man was wearing a hat – I’m always puzzled by New Zealand operas having men wearing hats indoors, a no-no in polite society of former times).  At one table sat an English family on holiday; at the other, two extravert young French women.

These were stereotypical characters: the English in tweeds and cardigan, the French in mini-skirts, smoking and chatting volubly and expressively.  Three scenes, ‘Paris c’est l’amour’, ‘Poor Fellow’ and Septet (not Sextet as in the printed programme) ‘And there will be a Lighted Candle’, involved seven singers in funny lyrics to Offenbach’s music, and amusing stage business, to make a thoroughly enjoyable little story. 

Particularly outstanding was Emily Simcox as Gertrude, the mother in the English family.  Her husband George was sung by Simon Harnden.  He opened proceedings speaking – and what a resonant speaking voice he has!   This little piece of theatre was so involving and so well done that it would be hard to isolate any one or two singers as outstanding over the others.  The emphasis was very much on clarity of words and acting, and all passed with flying colours.

The other characters were performed by Angelique MacDonald, Isaac Stone (whose acting was very amusing), Thomas O’Brien, Bridget Costello and Amelia Ryman.  The names of the two French girls were the French forms of the singers’ names – the last two in this list.

The final scene was more problematic.  Surely the final trio and duet from Richard Strauss’s Der Rosenkavalier are too demanding on the voices of singers as young as these?  Not only is Strauss opera generally a hard sing, this must be one of the most difficult. 

Whether it was done to give the impression of an older woman I do not know, but I thought Bryony Williams as the Marschallin had too much vibrato for a young singer.  Bianca Andrew as Octavian was in great voice, and thoroughly convincing.  Imogen Thirwall was a very competent but somewhat anxious Sophie.  The duet was quite lovely.  Nevertheless, the volume was overpowering in the trio; singers should moderate their dynamics to suit the resonance and size of the venue.  The small role of Faninal was sung by Isaac Stone.

Set changes were very well done, and the whole production was achieved in a professional manner.  Everyone knew their parts thoroughly, and musically, the performances were enjoyable, aside from my reservation about the level of sound in some items.

How fortunate we are to have so many promising singers – and so many experienced, competent teachers at the School of Music!

National Youth Orchestra in brilliant form

Fantasia on a Theme by Thomas Tallis (Vaughan Williams), Concerto for Piano and Wind Instruments (Stravinsky), The Chairman Dances (Adams), Symphonic Dances (Rachmaninov)

NZSO National Youth Orchestra conducted by Rossen Milanov with Jason Bae (piano)

Michael Fowler Centre

Thursday 26 August, 7.30pm

The habit of reviewers reporting, in mock wonderment, that the concert by the current incarnation of the National Youth Orchestra has offered the most exciting and committed symphony concert of the year, or decade, has become traditional, almost a ritual. Such claims are made in all good faith and in the hope of being seen as friends of the young and apostles of hope that the mature population will follow the lead of youth.

To do otherwise is very difficult, especially when the facts obviously favour the tradition. Especially this time; for not only was this perhaps the most uniformly talented body of musicians that the orchestra has gathered together, their ages ranging from 12 to 24, but it was also guided by a conductor with a gift for inspiring his players with some kind of rare and profound spirit, and drawing from them revelatory and polished performances.

Fast-rising Bulgarian-born conductor, Rossen Milanov, had devised a slightly eccentric programme, yet one which I had imagined might have filled the Michael Fowler Centre. I am clearly not a good judge of the tastes of most of my fellow citizens, however, for the MFC was more poorly inhabited than I can remember for some years. Though I gathered later that it might have been flaws in the seat booking system.

Vaughan Williams’s Fantasia on a Theme by Thomas Tallis opened: it was a deeply reverent, delicate account that let us hear how the limited body of strings could play with a refinement and subtlety that one hardly expects from youth. The performance steered between an overtly English pastoral style and an overdressed metaphysical expression in a Germanic tradition. Punctuated early on by an unrestrained cough in the audience, it evoked the dim light of a medieval cathedral, its long polyphonic melody soon given substance by a gentle rhythm and harmonies that respected its origins.

The orchestra’s arrangement was interesting, reflecting baroque practice. The chamber sized ripieno ensemble was in a tight semi-circular phalanx at the front while the concertino of nine strings was spread out across the rear of the orchestral terraces; affording visual support to the arresting aural effect, which was to lend the small group a remote air, especially when playing with mutes, rather than giving prominence to such a solo-like group. In addition, the quartet of string principals played the beautiful prayer-like passage with a maturity and commitment that was typical of the entire concert.

The plan to give strings and winds distinct exposure in the first half might have been an ingenious one, with the first piece for strings alone and the second for winds and percussion; but the choice of Stravinsky’s piano concerto was unfortunate. It might well be the only work that features the piano with a wind band (though there are also six double basses and timpani), but it is a particularly tough and somewhat abrasive example of the composer’s neo-classical style. The brass players, mainly the horns and trombones, did not cope well at the start, though trumpets soon restored an equilibrium. Such a piece has to be played with tremendous musicality and accuracy, making musical what can otherwise sound chaotic. 

Pianist Jason Bae, an 18-year-old Korean studying at Auckland University, proved a remarkable executant, coping brilliantly with Stravinsky as if he had been living with this music happily for years. After the troublesome start, woodwinds were more successful in managing the tortuous rhythmic and harmonic hurdles.

The full orchestra came successfully together in the second half. John Adams’s The Chairman Dances, commonly thought to be drawn from his opera, Nixon in China, was not incorporated in it, but the association remains pertinent. It is a mesmeric piece that has its detractors, possibly among those who cannot accept that a 1980s piece can actually be, or alternatively, has any right to be, listenable.

It is a latter-day Bolero in its repetitiveness, in the way it slowly accelerates and increases in orchestral complexity and density. For me, this was a performance of huge delight, brilliant in every department, filled with virtuosic playing, colour, and infectious rhythms. The performance had every appearance of being huge fun for the orchestra.

Finally came the piece that I would have thought might have had the greatest pulling power: Rachmaninov’s Symphonic Dances. It had the stamp of a full-scale professional performance, by an orchestra fired up by a really gifted conductor.

It was an inspired choice, offering evidence of the orchestra’s mastery of biting staccato attacks, of spacious, long-breathed melodic lines, of moments of relaxation; and throughout, opportunities to hear some of the orchestra’s most conspicuously gifted players: the alto saxophone and the bass clarinet, the piano, the oboes and bassoons, the horns. The first movement has a particularly gorgeous passage where first violins and cellos lead other sections, not in any ordinary musical sequence, but heart-stopping, rapturous and eloquent.

In the waltz-tempo second movement, the sour, muted trumpets set the scene, another angle on Ravel’s ironic vision in La Valse. Here we heard a lovely solo from concertmaster Jessica Alloway, and later the big viola section – equal in numbers to the second violins – picked up the waltz tune darkly, capturing its sinister voluptuousness as if these young people had seen a lot more of the dark side of human nature than one hopes they have.

Here, as everywhere in the concert, one’s eyes, as well as ears, were transfixed by the conductor’s balletic performance on the podium; often, such movement can be more self-serving than musically useful, but Milanov is the real thing: a conductor whose gestures and foot-work seem to be intrinsic to the dynamic totality of music in live performance.

More percussion emerged in the edgy finale, hinting at a witches’ Sabbath, Berlioz or Liszt – tubular bells, eerie flourishes from clarinets and flutes, and Ravel again – La Valse, the Concerto for the Left Hand – in the jazzy rhythms, the skeletal clatter of the xylophone in its treatment of the Dies Irae. For those who didn’t know the piece, there could have been no more stunning introduction to one of Rachmaninov’s masterpieces.

Bowing and blowing – Orchestral Concert from NZSM Orchestra

NZSM Orchestra Series – Concert Five

Strings, Winds and Brass

MOZART – Divertimento for Strings in D Major / JS BACH (arr. REED) – My Heart is Filled with Longing / REED – First Suite for Wind Band

ROSSINI (arr.BRITTEN) – Soirées Musicales / TCHAIKOVSKY – Serenade for Strings in C Major

New Zealand School of Music Orchestra

Conductors: Martin Riseley (Mozart, Tchaikovsky)

Kenneth Young (JS Bach, Reed, Rossini arr.Britten)

St.Andrew’s on-the-Terrace, Wellington

Tuesday 17th August 2010

A lovely concert – framed by two adorable works for string orchestra, with centres spliced by plenty of tangy wind-band textures. One of those tangy centres was a work I had not heard for some years, Britten’s Soirées Musicales (orchestrations of Rossini’s music), and never as a work for winds only, as here (the arrangement made by the composer). Another work, the Tchaikovsky Serenade, I had never actually heard live in concert (hard to believe, really, especially considering how well I know it!). So, there was plenty of interest there for me, and, I would have thought, for others, though, alas, not so!  It’s true that Tuesday evening tends not to be a popular concert-going night; but Wellingtonians were more-than-usually conspicuous by their absence from St.Andrew’s Church, which would have been disappointing for the concert’s organisers. I can only repeat Henry V’s words from Shakespeare, by way of admonishing people for their non-attendance at such an attractive-sounding and enjoyably musical affair – “And gentlemen of England now a-bed shall think themselves accurs’d they were not here” (pace Shakespeare, I would amend the admonition to include BOTH sexes, together or separately!).

Martin Riseley, in the relatively unfamiliar role of conductor (at any rate for Wellington audiences), directed the School of Music’s strings in a performance of one of Mozart’s utterly delightful Divertimenti of 1772. written during the composer’s Salzburg years. One would never know from the music that the composer was under the baleful jurisdiction of the autocratic Archbishop Colloredo, who had very little regard for musicians and their works. This particular work, in the sunny key of D major, simply bubbles with infectious energy and gaiety in its outer movements, framing an Italienate operatic-like slow movement featuring one of the composer’s loveliest tunes. Altogether it’s an attractive, if deceptively fluent-sounding work, the opening of which the NZSM string students addressed with bright, rich tones and fluent dynamic shadings. Some of the quicker articulations were a bit blurred, though the music’s inner voicings remained nicely discernable, even if the occasional worried looks on some of the players’ faces while addressing Mozart’s running figurations betrayed the ensemble’s intermittent unease. Generally, the Andante’s slower music brought forth a more sonorous, true-toned response, a lovely violin ascent in thirds characterising the generally sensitive playing throughout. The feathery touch at the beginning of the finale was also beautifully brushed in, and the more brilliant running passages that followed were splendid. The first-time-round six-note ascents in thirds were a shade untidy, the ensemble making a much neater job of the same passage later in the movement, and rounding the exhilarations of the music off with some sharp chording at the end.

Strings made way for winds, including brass and percussion, for the next bracket of items, along with a change of conductor, Kenneth Young for Martin Riseley. Two of the pieces were arranged or written by Alfred Reed, a name new to me, but well-known in the United States for his composing activities, primarily for wind ensembles. Reed’s arrangement of JS Bach’s Organ Prelude BWV 727 “Herzlich tut mich Verlangen” (My Heart is filled with Longing) for wind band brought out a beautiful liquid-toned sound, with enough of a plaintive edge to the tone to give it a most attractive plangency, a very clarinet/saxophone-coloured sound throughout the first refrain. An added array of flutes gave the tune a light, frothy descant the second time through, one or two stumbles of little matter; while the timpani and brass which subsequently joined in sounded amazing! – almost too much so, in those confined St.Andrew’s spaces, which, however, after the deluge of sounds had quietened, imparted a glowing ambience to the hushed postlude.  Reed’s First Suite for Wind Band followed, the four movements vividly played and characterised by the ensemble – the opening march had real bite, everything skirling and stirring, with saxophones adding jazzy impulses, while by contrast the following Melody movement relied on colour and atmosphere to set off the various lyrical solo instrumental lines, with beautiful contributions from horn, oboe and euphonium. Both the Rag and the Gallop were tremendous fun, with some droll percussion touches in the former’s trio section, and Young encouraging his players to abandon caution and go for it in the crackling finale, the building’s spaces rattling and resonating with the riotous sounds.

But for me the real delight from the wind band’s contribution to the concert was Britten’s Soirées Musicales, Kenneth Young communicating to and bringing out a real sense of enjoyment of the music from his players – to begin with, a snappy, cheeky March, with nicely articulated solos, spiced by delightful contributions from piccolo and xylophone, among others. Then came a sweetly-sung Canzonetta, a pastorale with a “yodelling” figure reminiscent of Walton’s”Facade”, with the trumpet adding to the gorgeously sentimental flavour, one which the subsequent “Tirolese” number sought to cheer up with hearty beer-hall oom-pahs, gurgling chuckles and irruptions of semi-intoxicated “frohlichkeit”, impulses that one expects would come naturally to most music students worth their salt. The half-ghostly Bolero, with its opening Schumannesque figures wove a sultry spell, its sinuous exotic strains beautifully ritualised by deftly-applied touches from the percussion; while the concluding Tarantella whirled vertiginously and deliriously – perhaps a trifle too fast for the dance-triplets to properly “tell”? But overall, there were transports of delight for this listener, and reactions along those lines at the piece’s end from others present as well.

Finally, strings again for the Tchaikovsky Serenade; which began with a lovely, rich and full-blooded opening chord from the players, conductor Martin Riseley encouraging a string sound with plenty of body, which eminently suited the work. The allegro wasn’t pushed, giving the music plenty of room to point and phrase, the ‘cello’s articulations particularly eloquent. I thought the playing had an attractive out-of-doors feel to it, the players  “tightening up”, and losing their tone and ensemble only when a degree of anxiety pushed the tempo along a bit too much. The second-movement Waltz sounded gorgeous at the beginning, the music nicely maintaining its poise until those repeated Italienate ascents in thirds were reached, when the ensemble became unstuck – however, the ‘cellos and violas sounded rich and full in their repeat of the big tune shortly afterwards. The beautiful Elegy featured songful violin lines over pizzicati accompaniment, a touch of strain from all departments during the violin’s descant over the lower strings, but a sonorous coming-together for the big tune afterwards, the pleasure disturbed only by a slight scrappiness at the tops of phrases in the movement’s coda. That out-of-doors ambience returned for the finale’s introduction, even if the atmosphere of expectation was slightly sabotaged by players and conductor having to turn over a page of score just before the beginning of the allegro (grins all round from both musicians and listeners). The players generated plenty of energy, their finish a bit raw in places, but perhaps appropriately “pesante” – again, the lower strings shone with the beautiful second subject, encouraging matching fervent tones from the violins. The coda caught the sense of festive closure exactly – Martin Riseley would surely have been pleased with his players’ warmth and energy in realising such an enjoyable performance of the work.

NZSM student woodwinds at St Andrew’s

Woodwind Soloists from the New Zealand School of Music

 

St Andrew’s on The Terrace

 

Wednesday, 11 August 2010, 12.15pm

 

Woodwind in name only; there was no wood in evidence – there were silver flutes and brass saxophones. 

Naturally, there were varying levels of achievement amongst the students featured, but they all gave a good account of themselves.  Throughout the concert (there was only one unaccompanied item), piano accompaniments were sensitively and musically provided by Emma Sayers, in a wide variety of pieces.

The students apparently were required to give a spoken introduction to their pieces.  It is a pity that they (and their tutors!) are not given more help with doing this.  They need to be encouraged to project their voices.  St Andrew’s is a large, resonant space, so anyone speaking without amplification must talk more loudly and slowly than some did at this concert, otherwise there is no point at all in speaking.

 

Quite a proportion of the people who attend the lunch-hour concerts are elderly and have less hearing than the young do.  It is very frustrating for them if they cannot hear what is said.  Some performers treated the spoken introduction as something to be got over quickly, while a few, notably Julia Deverall, provided plenty of background in her remarks, and spoke clearly and not too quickly.

 

A lack in the programme was that no dates were given for the composers, and although some of the players gave dates for the compositions they performed, for others, we were left in the dark as to when the composers flourished.

 

The first performer, Chloe Schnell on the flute, spoke clearly but a little too quietly.  Her piece, Black Anemones by Joseph Schwanter was very impressionistic and featured a lovely piano accompaniment.  It was played well with excellent tone, although the breathing was a little noisy.

 

Dubois (1930-1995) was the next composer, of A l’Espagnole for alto saxophone, played by Katherine Maciaszek, who announced her piece with much better projection.  The music was bright, jazzy, fast, and off-beat, and the performance thoroughly convincing.

 

Sehr Langsam from sonata for flute and piano by Paul Hindemith (1895-1963) was performed by Monique Vossen.  We heard her introduction well; the piece turned out to be reflective and gloomy (rather than the predicted ‘doomy’), but enjoyable, and well communicated.

 

Back to alto saxophone for ‘Vif’ from Scaramouche by Darius Milhaud (1892-1974); a typically lively piece of the composer’s works for winds.  It was played very well, with plenty of light and shade.  The spoken introduction started clearly, but unfortunately Emma Hayes-Smith then lowered her voice and sped up so as to become unintelligible.

 

Adagio from Concerto for flute and orchestra by Carl Reinecke (1824-1910) was the choice of Anna Newth.  This was a very romantic piece, beautifully played.  Her introduction was a little soft, but intelligible from my seat, about five rows from the front.

 

Flamenco Jazz for solo baritone saxophone was the work played by Geraint Scott.  It was composed by Englishman Paul Harvey, who, we were told in the rather rapid introduction, lived in Spain for a considerable time.  The fusion between flamenco and jazz was interesting, but there was little dynamic variation in the performance.

 

John Ritchie (b.1921) wrote The Snow Goose in 1982, based on the famous Paul Gallico story from World War II, we were told in Julia Deverall’s exemplary introduction.  This gorgeous piece for flute and piano was extremely well played with good attention to dynamics, though occasionally noisy breathing.

 

American Paul Creston (1906-1985) wrote a sonata for alto saxophone and piano, the ‘With Vigour’ movement from which was chosen by Reuben Chin.  It was written in 1939, the performer’s rather too quiet introduction informed us.  It was tastefully played with plenty of subtlety, and light and shade.

 

Despite my criticisms of the way in which items were introduced, this was an interesting and pleasing presentation of work from the wind students, who have reached a considerable level of accomplishment. 

 

 

 

Christchurch scores at Schools Chamber Music Contest

Chamber Music New Zealand: New Zealand Community Trust Chamber Music Contest, 2010 National Finals

Wellington Town Hall

Saturday, 31 July, 7.00pm

As well as providing an exciting contest, the annual finals made for a most enjoyable concert and a varied programme of music from young amateurs.  But make no mistake, this was music-making to a very high standard, some of it on a professional level.

Some of the combinations of instruments were unusual.  The first group, from St Cuthbert’s College in Auckland, played violin, piano and clarinet  performing four of the five movements of Stravinsky’s Histoire du Soldat Suite.  The three girls’ handsome red and black outfits were appropriate to their name: Diable.  Sometimes the other instruments were a little too loud for the violin, but this was very competent playing of difficult music.  The first movement March was given a suitably acerbic tone, while the Petit Concert was bright and rhythmic.  The Tango-Valse-Rag incorporated a variety of well-executed techniques for the violinist.  Although there was less clarinet in this movement, her part featured sliding notes, expertly played.  The fifth movement, Danse du Diable, was pretty demanding.  Both A and B flat clarinets were employed in the work.

Another Auckland trio followed, named Alpine Trio; their work was Schubert’s The Shepherd on the Rock.   It was good to have a singer in the finals; something I haven’t heard for years.  Nor have I heard this beautiful work on the concert platform for a long, long time.  Clarinet and voice both performed from memory, and all the musicians were in command of a difficult work.  The fine soprano’s low notes tended to disappear, and once or twice she ran out of breath.  The performance was a little pedantic, and perhaps needed to be more romantic, but towards the end the players seemed to relax and ended with rubato.  Overall, it was a very enjoyable rendering of beautiful music.

The Roseberry Trio, also from Auckland, tackled challenging music that is nevertheless quite well-known: movements 2 and 4 from Shostakovich’s Piano Trio no. 2 in E minor.  The young cellist, Sally Kim, played with great vigour and a robust sound.  She was the only performer on the night to play in two groups, though there were others doing this in the two semi-finals held the previous day.  In reply to my question later, she told me she was 15 years old.  All three players had marvellous technique.  The violin pizzicato was sensational at the opening of the fourth movement, then the cello joined in doing the same, with the piano playing a sombre unison theme.  This work is pretty full-on for all three players.  There were gorgeous ripples from the piano, great attention to detail, and a lovely ending to the work.

This trio provoked great applause from the audience, and in a normal concert they would undoubtedly have come back for a return bow.  The players from these last two groups comprised three from Westlake Girls’ High School, one from Westlake Boys’ High School, and one each from Kingsway College from St Cuthbert’s College.

Next it was the turn of Christchurch, with four Burnside High School students in a group named Sw!tch performing Philip Norman’s delightful Short Suite, on SATB saxophones.  They made a lovely sound; their timing was absolutely unanimous, as were their dynamics.  The characteristics of the five movements were beautifully portrayed; the first jolly and fast, the second slower and thoughtful, the third jaunty and spiky, the fourth sombre, in a minor key, and the fifth fast, agitated and rich-toned.  It was not a great surprise when this group took out the KBB award for woodwind, brass or percussion performance.

They were followed by the Genzmer Trio, also from Christchurch, with two of the three players from Burnside High School.  Apparently the musicians: flute, bassoon and piano, Googled to find music for their combination, and came upon the German composer Harald Genzmer, and his trio for their instruments, composed in 1973.  They were able to locate a copy of the music, and worked on it largely on their own.

A most attractive first movement revealed the excellent balance and ensemble of this group.  While there was not as much eye contact between the pianist and the wind players as there was between the latter two, this did not seem to matter.  An andante second movement and a very fast finale demonstrated all the considerable skills of the performers.  They gave a great account of this appealing work, and made us like it.  It was hard to believe that these were school students: pianism of a very high order from Saline Fisher and very fine playing from Hugh Roberts (flute) and Todd Gibson-Cornish (bassoon) had the audience totally involved.  They were worthy winners of the Contest.

Finally, the Euphonious Quartet (three from Westlake Girls’ High School and one from St Cuthbert’s College) performed.  The girls all wore beautiful yellow dresses and silver sandals (not the practical flat shoes of other groups).  They chose the first and fourth movements of Dvořák’s well-known ‘American’ string quartet.  Euphonious it was, but the performers were perhaps handicapped by playing something so familiar, where any slight errors are more noticeable.

These were two fast movements, putting the players on their mettle.  In the opening movement the viola had some intonation errors.  Other wise, accuracy and tone were good, although the tone was not as mellow as one usually hears in this work.  Dynamics were well observed.   The cellist was exceptional, as she was in the Shostakovich.  The first violin melodies in the fourth movement were played superbly.

After all the competing groups had performed, the winning original composition ‘Mr Gengerella’ was played by its composer, Finn Butler on piano, with Rowena Rushton-Green, violin, and Rosalind Manowitz, flute, performing as ‘Shady Groove’, from Logan Park High School in Dunedin.  This was a very accomplished work, with plenty of ideas and subtleties.

At times the piano was a little too loud for the other instruments, but Finn is certainly a fine pianist, and there was plenty of light and shade.  This is a work that deserves being heard again.  It had complexity, but not for its own sake.  The performers all did well in communicating the music.

As well as speeches from CMNZ president June Clifford, Peter Dale representing the principal sponsor New Zealand Community Trust, Minister for the Arts Chris Finlayson and CMNZ Chief Executive Euan Murdoch, and Julie Sperring of SOUNZ, and presentations of the SOUNZ original Composition award, the KBB Award for the best wind group and the award to the members of the winning group, there was the award of the Marie Vanderwart Memorial Award to long-serving string teacher and chamber music coach from Hawke’s Bay, Marian Stronach (a friend of mine from primary and secondary school and Teachers’ College days in Dunedin).   Euan Murdoch had the pleasure of announcing that James Wallace had decided that very evening that his Arts Trust prize for each member of the winning ensemble should be doubled to $2000.

The judges for the contest were Bridget Douglas  (principal NZSO flute), Wilma Smith (former NZ String Quartet member and former NZSO concertmaster, now in the same role in Melbourne) and Michael Houstoun (leading pianist).  Bridget Douglas spoke about what the judges were looking for in awarding the KBB prize, and Wilma Smith spoke on behalf of all the judges about the main award.  She said that they were unanimous in their decision, and that she considered the level this year better than she had heard it before.  She said the judges were looking for maturity, passion, commitment, good ensemble but also good solo playing, and that the players knew when to bring their instrument forward.  She mentioned ability to characterise the music, phrasing, understanding the idiom of the piece, and communicating it to the audience.  She said they considered that the winning group demonstrated all these qualities.

In interviews broadcast the following day, Michael Houstoun reiterated Wilma Smith’s remark that some of the groups tackled music that was beyond the level of their maturity and life experience: The Shostakovich and the Dvořák were probably particularly in mind here.

As Michael Houstoun said, this was a happy evening.

NZSM Orchestra downtown for major concert with the school’s star teachers

Prelude and Liebestod from Tristan und Isolde (Wagner); Our Own Demise (Pieta Hextall); The Red Violin – Chaconne for Violin and Orchestra (Corigliano); Nocturnes – II Fêtes and III Sirènes (Debussy); Francesca da Rimini (Tchaikovsky)

The New Zealand School of Music Orchestra conducted by Hamish McKeich with Margaret Medlyn (Soprano) and Martin Riseley (violin)

Wellington Town Hall

Friday 30 July 7.30pm

The Red Violin was a 1997 film by François Giraud for which John Corigliano wrote the score; it told the adventures of a haunted violin. From it the composer arranged a piece for violin and orchestra – a Chaconne for Violin and Orchestra and it proved a fine showcase for Martin Riseley. It may have been his first appearance with an orchestra in a public venue since he returned to New Zealand to take up his position as Head of Strings at the New Zealand School of Music.

It has been a few years since the university orchestra performed down-town, at the Town Hall. So this was a very significant occasion, an opportunity to hear two of the school’s most distinguished teacher-performers, with international reputations.

The second was Margaret Medlyn. 

It was a particularly interesting programme that would both challenge a student orchestra, and thoroughly engage an audience.

It was also an unorthodox programme, starting with the Prelude and Liebestod from Tristan. Not the purely orchestral version that many would be familiar with, but with Margaret Medlyn who emerged through the orchestra during the last minute of the Prelude to deliver a ringing, passionate performance of the apotheosis that ends the opera – the ‘Love-death’. There was power without strain, riding easily over the orchestra’s ebb and flow, until the climax, the orgasm if you like, where the orchestra did rather dominate.  I am sure it was an arresting experience for all vocal students from the school to hear one of New Zealand’s finest singers in such repertoire.

The orchestra opened after the hall was appropriately dimmed to create a quasi-theatrical scene, with those famous, unresolved harmonies carefully articulated, well balanced, and with scrupulous attention to dynamics. One could often be forgiven for thinking one was listening to an experienced professional orchestra, in this and much else in the programme.

Next came the piece that won the 2009 Jenny McLeod Composition Prize, Pieta Hextall’s Our Own Demise, for which she offered a ‘programme’ in the form of quasi-political reflection on the curtailment of freedoms through the increasing complexity of society: a latter-day yearning for the age of the noble savage?. I quickly abandoned any attempt to make connections between that and the music, though the purpose of the alternation of spacious, pure harmonies and increasingly dense and complex textures was clear enough. Early, a phase of primitive, elemental sounds –strings tapped lightly with the bow, ethereal percussion – suggested a time of innocence, perhaps a very low level of social life. Later, an apparently aleatoric episode perhaps told of societal breakdown.  Its variety of expression and texture, mood and emotion maintained interest; it was coloured by an occasional almost melodic, consoling episode from the solo violin, then a gruff phrase from double basses and tutti tremolo that suggested swarming insects.

In some ways, I felt the idea lent itself too easily to the temptation to employ too many resources too insistently and too chaotically, and that less use of musical disharmony and confusion might have produced better music. But there was no denying Hextall’s imaginative, highly accomplished piece which the orchestra had clearly worked at very conscientiously.

Then came the Corigliano: a name not as well known here as in the United States where his fairly accessible orchestral music as well as his ‘opera-buffa’ The Ghosts of Versailles, have penetrated public awareness. Ghosts was one of the very few new operas to have been staged by the Met in New York since WW2.

The form of the piece, loose variations on a chaconne (basically a slow dance in triple time) ground bass, announced its attention to musical tradition and though its sounds could have derived from no other than the current era, there were some rhapsodic, unashamedly lovely episodes from the soloist, a striking flute solo, with echoes by other woodwinds, all demonstrating admirable musicality. Later we were treated to an almost hummable tune on the viola.

In short, it is music in the Barber, the popular Copland or later Rochberg tradition, for all of whom the audience mattered.

It achieved its aim of drawing attention to Riseley’s distinction as violinist.

The second half would have been welcome in an NZSO concert: two of Debussy’s Nocturnes for orchestra and Tchaikovsky’s great symphonic poem, Francesca da Rimini. The first was a scrupulous, admirably accurate portrayal of luminous, highly coloured scenes, hardly nocturnal I always feel. Fêtes sparkled with lively rhythms and brilliant performances by wind players, and also by well-disciplined strings (students filled the ranks of both violin sections: guest professionals did no more than enrich the lower strings). Sirènes featured a small and warmly seductive vocal ensemble underpinning more colourful playing.

If the concert so far had impressed by the orchestra’s precision and balance as well as its vitality under Hamish McKeich, Francesca da Rimini revealed some shortcomings. Strings got by very well but slips in the brass suggested less adequate rehearsal. Yet there were fine solos again here, in particular from clarinet and the lovely cello passage that follows. And the final phase built to its tragic, though exciting climax with splendid energy and youthful exuberance.

I must comment on the programme notes, by Frances Moore. More than commonly literate and displaying a wide-ranging musical knowledge, her notes for each of the three standard repertoire pieces – the Wagner, Tchaikovsky and Debussy – indicated an unusual talent for describing in imaginative terms, with a comfortable familiarity with pertinent literary, philosophical and artistic questions, significant musical connections that illuminate both composer and the music.

I was relieved that, though the gallery was closed, the stalls were well filled. It was an event that deserves to become an annual fixture that should get a lot more publicity. I was disappointed to see no acknowledgement of any City Council backing which I would have expected, giving substance to the council’s readiness to boast of the city as cultural capital.

Geoffrey de Lautour Remembered at St Andrew’s

Karen Saunders in association with The New Zealand Opera Society Inc. (Wellington Branch) and the Wellington members of NEWZATS (New Zealand Association of Teachers of Singing)

St. Andrew’s on The Terrace

Wednesday 7 July 2010, 12.15pm

Geoffrey de Lautour: opera singer, teacher of music in schools, private singing teacher, raconteur, was remembered, ten years after his death. Fellow Dunedin-born singer Roger Wilson introduced the concert with a brief biography of de Lautour. The latter’s involvement in opera in New Zealand, following a career in Britain, has been outlined in his autobiography. Wilson emphasised the hands-on work of the old New Zealand Opera Company, where everyone multi-tasked: driving, loading and unloading sets, singing, overcoming emergencies etc.

He saw the concert, involving nine young singers, as celebrating both de Lautour’s career, and his teaching at the former Hutt Valley Memorial Technical College. A charming photo of the man was printed on the front of the programme.

The singers varied in age from 14 to 20. This meant that some had almost mature voices, while others still had children’s voices.

Of the former, the outstanding singer was Tom Atkins, whose attractive and promising tenor voice we heard in a duet from Beethoven’s Fidelio with soprano Amelia Ryman, and again in the serenade from Rossini’s The Barber of Seville. Atkins’s pitch was wayward a couple of times, but here is a dramatic tenor in the making.

Ryman’s voice had a surprising amount of vibrato for a young singer, but she had plenty of volume and confidence, and depicted her roles (she also sang a Handel aria) intelligently, using her voice well, especially in the drama of the Beethoven.

All items except the Beethoven were accompanied by Julie Coulson, always a tasteful and supportive pianist, never having to ask the question ‘Am I too loud?’ Mark Dorrell accompanied the Beethoven with flair.

Two younger singers sang arias from Edward German’s Merrie England. The second singer, Chloe Garrett, was older than Lauren Yeo, and this showed in her tone and her more musical performance. Both had good intonation and enunciation.

Matthew Ellison sang Handel’s ‘Where’er you walk’ accurately enough and with clear words, but it was a very dull performance, with no feeling. He tended to swallow the tone; his voice needed more projection.

A trio of Chloe Garrett, Nicole Petrove (there were variations in the spelling of her name in the printed programme) and Lauren Yeo sang an arrangement of the traditional Irish ‘Johnny has gone for a soldier’ in a rather restrained fashion, but they managed the rather complicated arrangement, including key changes, well.

Sophia Ritchie, singing ‘Vieni, Vieni o mio diletto’ by Vivaldi, revealed a good voice, especially in the lower register, although more projection is needed.

Mark Newbury, in Giovanni Legrenzi’s ‘Che fiero’ costume exhibited a mature voice of considerable promise; his intonation was unfortunately rather variable. However, a he made a good job of this aria.

Natasha Willoughby performed the traditional English folk song ‘Waly, Waly’ very attractively with clear words, but wayward pitch at times. At her age (15) lack of volume is not a concern, but the song was too low for her in places.

Tosti’s La Serenata is not much heard these days, but Nicole Petrove’s small but pleasant, attractive voice made good work of it. Her Italian pronunciation was commendable.

As a finale, all the singers sang an unaccompanied (and unconducted) arrangement of the Welsh air ‘All through the night’. This was very fine, showing excellent tone, balance and blend.

It was good to hear so many young people learning singing, and confident enough to perform in public. They all showed the results of good teaching, and it is to be hoped they will all carry on, building on their present skills.

NZSM voice students at St Andrew’s for lunch

Voice students from the New Zealand School of Music, accompanied by Emma

Sayers: Imogen Thirlwall, Xingxing Wang, Laura Dawson, Thomas Barker,

Bridget Costello, Olga Gryniewicz 

St Andrew’s on The Terrace

Wednesday 12 May, 12.15pm

We are in the season of mid-year, students’ recitals from the New Zealand School of Music; in this, we had five women and one man in a programme that was varied and delightful.

Though I missed the first three songs, from Imogen Thirlwall and Xingxing Wang, they both reappeared later so that I could gain some impression of their talents.

Laura Dawson had just begun Der Nüssbaum from Schumann’s cycle Myrthen as I entered and I was at first enchanted by the simple beauty of her voice and its easy delivery, even in quality throughout its range; her style was appropriate, warm and lyrical. But in her second song, Jemand, her relaxed and rather unvaried interpretation didn’t meet its demands so well. It needed a little more energy.

Baritone Thomas Barker sang what turned out to be the centre-piece of the concert: Ravel’s three songs, Don Quichotte à Dulcinée. They come at the end of Ravel’s life, yet offer no hint of any fall-off in inspiration or liveliness; they were an entry to a competition for music for Pabst’s film Don Quixote which featured Shaliapin. Ravel was slow and the award was eventually given to Ibert. But it is Ravel’s songs that have lived.

I had just been reading a chapter on Ravel by Australian critic and composer Andrew Ford. “Perhaps it s the restraint that endears this composer and his music to an age that shows little restraint of its own. … he never harangues us, never forces an emotional response, never tells us what to think or how to feel…Instead he offers us his expensive distractions, which are always made to he highest standard. And he keeps his distance.” I love ‘expensive distractions’; I have long felt that Ravel’s music is one of the best of all possible models to present to aspiring composers: not for the young the voluptuousness of Daphnis et Chloë, but rather the brilliance, clarity and restraint of the piano music, and the precisely captured images in the chamber music and songs such as these.

Barker is on the way; while he sounded uneasy taking the corners of the first song, Chanson romanesque, his Chanson à boire was confident, his voice strong and even; a riotous little triumph. And Emma Sayers played a brilliant piano part. 

I last heard Bridget Costello at this church last September, and again enjoyed her singing. Duparc’s Chanson triste is mature music that probably comes more easily to a singer with more years of experience and pain; yet this seemed a fine Duparc voice in the making, still a bit thin at the top but expressing a calm and sincere emotion.

Later she sang a song by Dorothea Franchi, one of New Zealand’s most talented song-writers: Treefall. The air of awe at the danger, the magnitude and monstrousness of the act were more than hinted at. 

Xingxing Wang was a voice new to me. Though Mimi’s Act I aria is so familiar its difficulties are real and they were evident in this performance; she did well, but the creation of a steady, legato line sometimes eluded her. And her interpretation captured little of Mimi’s shyness and vulnerability, and the intimacy of her self-revelation.

The extravert ‘Je veux vivre’ from Roméo et Juliette suited her far better; at this stage it’s her soubrette quality that is most conspicuous, and she carried it off with a carelessness that is the essence of Juliette’s feeling in this scene.

Olga Gryniewicz has had a high profile in the school’s performances and while her voice still displays shortcomings, the top of her register and her agility are striking. Two Rachmaninov songs, in Russian, offered strong contrast: the panic of Loneliness, conveyed through some taxing, very high, florid passages; and ‘How beautiful this place’, much more romantic and lyrical yet still calling for some stratospheric notes.

I’d have liked to hear Imogen Thirlwall in Roussel’s Le bachelier de Salamanque which was the first item on the programme, for I was a little disappointed in her singing Pamina’s aria, ‘Ach, ich fuhl’s’ from The Magic Flute. An attractive voice, but her intonation was shaky occasionally and she has yet to gain confidence in expressing emotion – the loss and perplexed pain that Pamina feels at this point.