Tag: viola

Viola central to an interesting programme of student performances from three centuries

Posted on by Rosemary Collier

Viola Students of NZSM
Gyahida Ahmad, viola, Ashley Mah, piano; Elyse Dalabakis, viola, Laura Brown, clarinet and Hana Kim, piano; Laura Barton, violin; Grant Baker, viola, Catherine Norton, piano

Schubert: ‘Arpeggione’ Sonata, second movement
Max Bruch: Pieces for clarinet, viola and piano, Op.83
Bach: Partita no.2 in D minor for solo violin, BWV 1004 (four movements)
George Enescu: Concertstück

St. Andrew’s on The Terrace

Wednesday, 25 May 2016, 12.15pm

My apologies if I have not got the first performers’ names correctly; they were not in the printed programme, but were announced at the beginning of the concert. However, a person behind me was talking on a cellphone at the time, and I could not hear them properly. I made enquiries at the end of the concert, but this has meant my interpreting another person’s handwriting – possibly not correctly.

The item these two students played was not in the printed programme. Their playing of the slow movement from Schubert’s sonata (originally written for a rather short-lived instrument, the Arpeggione, a bowed guitar) was lacking in confidence at the beginning, and the viola intonation was ‘off’ in several places. Perhaps their inclusion in the concert was somewhat premature for their stage of musical study.

The Bruch pieces were a different story. Four of the composer’s eight pieces were performed. No obvious disadvantage in that, but it made for a rather slow and sombre sequence, since two were marked andante, one allegro con moto, and the last (no. 6) andante con moto. Parts of the movements were Brahmsian in character. Of the movements left out, numbers 4 and 7 would be considerably faster, judging from their tempo markings.

All three players are fine musicians, confident and very competent. The viola tone was lovely and mellow, the clarinet was played with panache and sensitivity, and the pianist judged her part just right as to volume and intensity, so that she neither drowned out the other players, nor was too submissive in rendering her part. It was a fine performance for a well-judged combination, and they played an attractive set of pieces that showed off the instruments.

Bach’s solo violin music is a sort of bible for violinists, but maintaining momentum, accuracy, tempo and so on is not easy. Laura Barton made a beautiful job of the first four movements of the chosen Partita. She is a highly skilled player, negotiating all the turns and twists in the music with ease, it seemed, and at least in the early stages, hardly looking at the score. She is secure technically, and after commendable Allemanda and Corrente, her Sarabanda, double-stopping and chords involving several strings, was handled adroitly. In the flowing, dancing Giga her tone was bright, with every note in place, and the character of the piece was portrayed very well, in lively fashion. One could imaging people in the 18th century dancing to the music. Inevitably perhaps, though she used a baroque bow, the modern strings made inappropriate sounds at times.

Last up was Grant Baker, accompanied by the immaculate Catherine Norton, playing a work for viola by George Enescu (1881-1955), teacher of the great violinist Yehudi Menuhin, whose 100th anniversary was marked on radio the other day. The Concertstück required a number of demanding techniques, but Grant Baker took these in his stride and did not draw attention to them, playing throughout in a musical and expressive way. His instrument and his playing gave out a warm tone, but lighter than the dark, mellow tone of Elyse Dalabakis’s in the Bruch work. Baker’s viola pitch was a little wayward in places, but both musicians brought off a difficult work in fine style.

 

Violist Gillian Ansell and student Aidan Verity with viola concertos at NZSM Showcase

Posted on by Rosemary Collier

New Zealand School of Music; Showcase week – viola students

Stamitz: Viola Concerto in D, Op.1
Schumann: Märchenbilder for Viola and Piano, Op.113
Walton: Viola Concerto

Aidan Verity, viola; Gillian Ansell, viola; Rafaella Garlick-Grice, piano

St. Andrew’s on The Terrace

Wednesday, 7 October 2015, 12.15pm

Having been told the previous day, and by the listed outline of concerts to come in this week of NZSM student recitals that this was to be one of ‘viola students’, I was disappointed to discover that in fact only one such student was playing, plus her teacher, Gillian Ansell.  I hastily add that it is no disappointment to hear Gillian Ansell play, but over the years NZSM has excelled with its viola students, and we have heard numbers of such students perform at end-of-year recitals.  So today was a surprise.

The works were not performed in the order in which they were printed the programme, and no announcement was made to indicate that the order of the first two items was reversed. This might have confused some.

The student, Aidan Verity (spelt in the programme also as ‘Aiden’) is a very accomplished performer. Her Stamitz concerto, in a piano reduction version, as was the later Walton concerto, quickly revealed her gorgeous tone and highly skilled playing.  Her deeper tones were particularly mellifluous.  She was a confident and assured performer, and made double-stopping and fast runs seem easy.  Just occasionally intonation was a little suspect, but these occasions became fewer and fewer as she warmed to her task.  The overall performance was delightful, and in places magical.

It was quite an exacting programme to have, following Stamitz’s three-movement concerto, the Schumann work of four movements.  There were some tricky passages here, especially in the Rasch (quick) third movement, which demands some fast finger-work.  The final movement, Langsam, mit melancholischen Ausdruck (slow, with melancholic expression) is, strangely, in a major key despite its melancholy nature, while two of the earlier movements are in minor keys, despite the more lively characters.

Aidan gave the last movement, with its abrupt ending, a fine interpretation, making the music sing soulfully; a curious contrast to the brighter temperament of the previous two movements.

To have perhaps the most important viola concerto in the repertoire rendered by a professional violist of Gillian Ansell’s standing and experience at a lunch-hour concert was an unexpected bonus.  Here, as in the Stamitz work, Rafaella Garlick-Grice’s performance at the piano was remarkable; her rendition of the orchestral role was thoroughly accurate, supportive, and idiomatic to the different characters of the two concertos.

Gillian Ansell introduced the work, telling us of the link between her viola and this concerto.  As the excellent programme note told us, the first recording of the concerto was made by the noted English violist Frederick Riddle who was a previous owner of her viola, and she thinks it likely that that recording was made using what is now her instrument.

Ansell took a little time to settle, but then played splendidly, with a mellow sound.  However, despite the skill of the performers, I found the concerto did not ‘grab’ me; the absence of an orchestra subjected the work to too severe a test as the lack of orchestral colour, variety of timbres left it feeling a rather cold piece, even pedestrian in places. Yet this was an admirable performance by both Gillian and Rafaella which revealed the music’s lyric qualities but was simply not able to exploit them as fully as orchestral support would have allowed.   It goes without saying that the many technical difficulties were well within Gillian Ansell’s grasp.

To say the pianist’s contribution to this concert was major, is an understatement.  As in most of Schumann’s music for instrument and piano or voice and piano, the latter is vital, its part and varied.  To play two concertos substituting for orchestra in the one concert, plus another major work is a considerable challenge, and one that this performer fully met.

As I’d expected, there was a bigger audience than on the first two days; for Wednesday is the usual day for St. Andrew’s lunchtime concerts.  The timing of these concerts in the school holidays might also have contributed to the rather disappointing turnouts.  Though the programme ran a quarter of an hour longer than the usual lunchtime concert, I did not notice anyone leaving, which suggests that these concerts are not attended in the lunch-breaks by many workers in the area who had to return to their jobs.

 

Four feasts forward – Catherine McKay and Peter Barber at St.Andrew’s

Posted on by Peter Mechen

St Andrew’s Lunchtime Concert Series presents:
Catherine McKay (piano) and Peter Barber (viola)

Music by Schumann, Enescu, Rachmaninov and Brahms

St.Andrews-on-the-Terrace, Wellington

Wednesday 4th March, 2015

At the beginning of the concert Peter Barber announced a change to the printed programme, one involving both a rearrangement of the existing order, and an additional item. So, Brahms’ FAE Sonata Scherzo Movement, which was to have opened the programme now became its concluding item; and an arrangement of Rachmaninov’s Vocalise for viola and piano was introduced, here put just before the Brahms.

It all seemed to work marvellously well, even if, right at the concert’s beginning I was troubled by the venue’s lively, somewhat over-insistent acoustic which blurred the lines in the first of Schumann’s four Märchenbilder”(Fairy-tale Pictures), the one marked “Nicht Schnell”. Always the most sensitive and accommodating of musical partners, pianist Catherine McKay seemed here to be made to produce a sound too richly-upholstered in places, so that the reticent tones of the viola were often lost in the exchanges.

Happily, the following “Lebhaft” seemed to restore those balances more fairly – perhaps the performers had by this time “gotten the pitch of the hall” – with more tone and presence from the viola, the piece’s “swagger” was given full play, the music’s excitement made palpable for us as a result. I still thought the “scherzando” episodes could have done with a lighter touch, as they tended to blur a little in the acoustic.

The third piece “Rasch” excitingly galloped its way into the sound-picture, with the pianist’s playing most skillfully accommodating the viola’s lines as required throughout the music’s narratives, without the music’s edge being at all lost or dimmed. What a marvellously haunted piece this was – and what balm for the senses was the “trio” section, the players beautifully “covering” their tones, wanting to make the greatest possible contrast with the spooky gallopings,  which returned to scalp-prickling effect

After all this, the final “Langsam, mit melancholischem Ausdruck” seemed like a prayer of homecoming.  We got lovely, limpid sounds, together with gently, lullabic lines on the violin – very “Brahmsian”  in effect, I thought. Despite that comment, for the most part it was music that could have been by no other composer than Schumann.

Interestingly, Peter Barber told us (wisely, at the work’s end) that the composer had noted down his inspiration for each of the pieces – the first two from the Rapunzel legend, the third from the story of Rumpelstiltskin, and the last one the Sleeping Beauty!

I didn’t know the next item, George Enescu’s Concertpiece. It appeared to be in a  single movement, but made up of two distinct sections – the first, headed, “Assez animé” established a winsome, “out-of-doors” feeling at the start, leading towards declamatory phrases (fanfares from the piano), and then followed by misterioso chromatic figurations, all of these moods coloured and characterized beautifully by the players. A return to the opening brought more celebratory flourishes, and “thrills and spills” moments which here played their part in conveying the extent of the musicians’ commitment to the task – after the energies had been spent, the viola soared aloft to a tender harmonic and a gently-plucked concluding chord.

At which point the music moved strongly and more darkly into a new “Animé”, with textures rather more stark and focused – these sequences were contrasted with passages in which the pair enchanted us with their lightness of touch and lyricism of phrasing. The tensions very satisfyingly built up amid moments of full-throated lyricism turning into energetic flourishes. Each player supported the other – the piano trumpeting and celebrating as the viola gathered momentum, and the string energies helping the piano to make a brilliant impression. As it would have been “new music” for many listeners, I thought it received wonderful advocacy.

I’d never heard Rachmaninov’s Vocalise played by a dark-hued instrument before – and the performance here was a revelation! Away from the brilliance and stratospheric freedom of the soprano voice, the piece took on the quality of an out-and-out lament, growing out of something meditative and deeply-felt, and transcending its mere “wordless song” association. Particularly telling in this performance was the interweaving of lines, with viola and piano tightly integrated and thus underscoring the intensity of it all. For one repetition of the melody the viola took its line up an octave, but it was the music’s deep-voiced intensities that in the end impressed most profoundly. After this, for me, the piece will never be the same again.

That left the Brahms Movement to “return us to our lives” – though in the event it was more a state of “separate reality” to which we were taken here, rather than any semblance of normality. What a wonderfully gutsy opening to a piece of music! And it was all fuelled by playing whose energy and incisiveness was just what the doctor ordered. I like the way the “schwung” of the opening took in both melody and rhythm without stinting, with just the right amount of skin and hair flying about to make a proper “cheek-by-jowl” contrast with the music’s relatively serene trio section.

However, the trio sequence still resonated with fragments of the opening rhythm, whose full force returned with almost Brucknerian power (what would Brahms have thought of THAT comparison, I wonder?). Music and playing fused feeling, energy and commitment into something grandly celebratory at the piece’s end – and the lunchtime audience was quick to express its appreciation of the performers. It was a good attendance, too, which bodes well for the 2015 season of one of the capital’s most highly-regarded musical series.

 

 

 

Alexa Thomson – possibility and accomplishment on the viola

Posted on by admin

St. Andrews-on-the-Terrace Lunchtime Concert Series:

Alexa Thomson, Viola
Rafaella Garlick-Grice, Piano

Brahms – Sonata for Viola and Piano in F minor, Op.120
Bartok – Moderato, from Viola Concerto, Sz.120, BB 128
Paganini (arr.Primrose) – La Campanella

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

Wednesday 15th October 2014

 This concert was an Honours music degree recital for Alexa Thomson, and St.Andrew’s church was a most suitable venue for this scale of performance. The Brahms Sonata is, of course, one of the lynchpins of the violist’s repertoire, and it was a good vehicle for Alexa’s artistic phrasing and warmth of tone which was entirely free of the edgy, nasal quality that can often detract from the upper register of a viola. The balance of piano and viola was excellent, obviously benefitting from Rafaella’s wide experience in such collaborative roles, and together the players very effectively captured the many contrasting moods of the opening Allegro appassionato.

They did likewise in a beautifully wistful reading of the following Andante and a very gracious Allegretto. The demanding Vivace finale was very polished and technically competent, and rounded off a thoughtful and musical performance of this iconic work. For my part, I would have preferred a reading with less gentility, more overt passion and Romanticism, and a wider exploration of the dynamic range that Brahms’ rich idioms can offer so many opportunities for; but a more subdued approach obviously sat  very comfortably with the players.

Next was the opening Moderato movement from Bartok’s concerto, a work that, for me, offers some pretty challenging listening, given its unforgiving dissonance and aggressive, angular writing in places. But the duo attacked it with impressive technical skill, and highlighted well its widely contrasting moods, be they angry or lyrical. This was a more passionate reading than the Brahms, and the movement definitely benefitted from that.

La Campanella is an unashamedly show-off piece in Paganini’s very recognisable style, and like its many stablemates it is very demanding technically. Both players had all the fireworks thoroughly sorted out, with Alexa pulling off the brutal double stopping with considerable flair. There was good contrast between the widely varying moods of the piece, with the musical phrasing of the more lyrical sections punctuating the frenetic interludes very effectively. The work closed with a great flourish that had the audience expressing their appreciation most enthusiastically.

The programme notes stated that “Alexa really aspires to have a solo career” but she came across to me, and others I spoke to, as a gentle soul, with a refinement more suited to chamber or orchestral roles. For a solo career, I think she needs to find that element of the bruiser that is, I feel, essential to tackle this intractable instrument. It was never designed to go under the human chin, and in a solo situation calls more for a cellist mentality than that of an “alto violinist”. Nevertheless, this very demanding programme was most professionally pulled off, and Gillian Ansell must be a very proud teacher.

Scholarly and musical – Sergey Malov plays Bach

Posted on by Rosemary Collier

Bach on 13 strings

Bach: Chromatic Fantasy for solo viola, BWV 903

Suite no.4 in E flat, BWV 1010

Partita no.1 for solo violin, BWV 1002

Suite no.3 in C for solo cello, BWV 1009

Sergey Malov, viola, violoncello da spalla, violin

Expressions, Upper Hutt

Friday, 7 June 2013, 7.30pm

One might think that a recital composed entirely of unaccompanied Bach would not reveal the versatility of the performer.  In fact, it did.  The other thought is that it would pall for the audience.  Although I heard remarks afterwards from some audience members that they missed piano accompaniment, I don’t think this was a general reaction.

However, I don’t believe I have been to a completely solo violin recital before, nor one devoted entirely to one composer.  However, by using three different instruments, Malov was able to introduce variety to the programme.  (A member of the audience provided accompaniment by tapping his/her foot constantly.)

Sergey Malov, here for the Michael Hill International Violin Competition as the winner of the last competition in 2011, and to tour for Chamber Music New Zealand, is a consummate string player.  He disarmed his audience with a few well-chosen remarks (including about the cool hall, which was certainly noticeable to the audience, and must have been worse for him, given his less-than-full-concert garb and his need to keep his instruments and his fingers warm).

The opening work was a tour de force in itself, its virtuosic writing for viola full of variety and difficulties, appearing not to trouble Malov.  However, he is one of those highly competent and talented individuals who has to take on additional challenges.  Therefore he commissioned a reproduction violoncello da spalla (on the shoulder) to be made for him, the instrument having been revived in recent years in Belgium.

We were introduced to this instrument in the Suite no.4, so I spent much of the time in that item listening to the instrument rather than to the music per se.  I have not been able to discover the tuning that Malov used for the five-stringed instrument (hence Bach on 13 strings) that he employed for the two Bach Suites. An article in Grove indicates that it may have been C-G-D-A-e (i.e. e in the treble clef), which equates to a standard cello tuning plus an additional string tuned to e.  There is strong indication that some, maybe all, of Bach’s Suites for cello were written for the da spalla instrument, which is a much more ancient instrument than the modern cello.  With a strap over one shoulder and round the back of the neck,  and having the instrument’s back against the player’s body, looked slightly ungainly, being played with a baroque bow – as compared with the guitar,, which is held in a similar position, but is plucked.

I found the timbre of the lower strings somewhat odd, and not a particularly musical sound.  The higher strings did not have this peculiar timbre.  The instrument has nothing like the resonance or warmth of the violoncello we are familiar with, and I have to say that I prefer the Suites on the latter instrument – but of course this is what I am accustomed to.

The Suite was exquisitely played with skill and expression, the tempi and rhythm suitable to each dance movement.  It was followed, after the interval, by Partita no.1,  played on the violin.  Similar to a Suite, Partita, being an Italian term, names the movements dance movements by the Italian names.  The subtlety and nuance in the playing were remarkable, but it was vibrant too.  The Corrente particularly was incredibly virtuosic, as indeed was the Tempo di Borea (Bourrée).  It was fascinating to watch Malov’s long, lithe fingers in action.

The final work, Suite no.3, was again played on the violoncello da spalla.  This one is more familiar than the no.4, and was delightful to hear.  Lively melodies take the listener through the six movements.  The Bourrée was so sprightly I rather wished that there were dancers on stage to put the music into movement.  A friend in the audience told me she had once seen such a performance in a house concert.  Malov made the music dance with very rhythmic playing and variations of timbre, with frequent lifts between notes; the music lived and spoke.

To have the performer play three different instruments, and therefore use three different fingerings in one concert was astonishing.  It was certainly not only a technical achievement; this was an evening of great music-making.

 

 

 

Their own sounds: Viola students from the NZSM

Posted on by Rosemary Collier

Viola Students of the New Zealand School of Music

Music by Bloch, Hindemith, Flackton, Brahms, Stamitz, and Walton

Vincent Hardaker, Megan Ward, Felicity Baker (cello), Alexa Thomson, Alice McIvor with Stephen Clothier, Rafaella Garlick-Grice (pianists)

St Andrew’s on The Terrace

Wednesday, 5 June 2013

The presence of Gillian Ansell, violist in the New Zealand String Quartet, as a teacher of viola at the School of Music appears to be producing excellent results, in the numbers of skilled violists who are her students, emerging there.

Even so, there is definitely a difference between the performers and in the sounds they make; no carbon copies here.  The variety thus produced provided some of the interest in this lunchtime concert.

Ernest Bloch’s ‘Rhapsodie’ from his Suite Hébraïque commences with a Jewish pentatonic march-like melody, and continues in similar vein.  A beautiful and interesting work, it needed to be more mellow than this player made it.  The tone was sometimes harsh, and the piano part rather over-pedalled at times.  However, there was great attention to the dynamics on the part of both performers.

Hardaker followed in an unaccompanied work by another viola player: the first two movements from Viola Sonata, Op.25 no.1 by Paul Hindemith.  The programme note seemed to have been dashed off in haste; the remark ‘The first two movements of this sonata run together’ intrigued me, but in fact they were played one after the other, without a pause.

Megan Ward played something entirely unusual and charming: William Flackton’s Sonata VI for viola and bass, with Felicity Baker, cello.  I had never heard of the composer, but it seems he flourished in the mid- to late-eighteenth century.  The ‘galant’ style of the period was one of ‘simplicity, homophony and immediacy of appeal’ according to the programme notes.  The three short movements gave us playing that was rhythmically strong, a consistently pleasant, rather gentle tone, and ornamentation that was beautifully managed.  The cello part was subtle and very musical in effect.  The New Grove Dictionary of Music and Musicians article on Flackton, by well-known music editor Watkins Shaw, speaks of his ‘considerable individuality and expressive power’; and ‘his refined and elegant taste’.

Brahms’s Viola Sonata in F minor (Op.120 no.1, from 1894) was perhaps the best-known work on the programme.  Alice McIvor’s sound is rich and mellow, with plenty of volume when required.  Some slight intonation inaccuracies in the first movement could not spoil a fine performance.  Stephen Clothier, a composition student, was a splendid partner at the piano.  His playing was expressive, and he gave the piano part its full value.  There was just a shade of over-pedalling at some points, but the performers did very well.

The second of the two movements played, andante un poco adagio, was very attractively performed, with many nuances, the phrasing bringing out the lyricism and a certain nostalgic, even wistful character to the music.

With Carl Stamitz’s Viola Concerto no.1 in D, Op.1, we moved to a solo work in which the pianist had the unenviable task of trying to be an orchestra.  The first movement was played, without cadenza, but had Alexa Thomson extended nevertheless.  Violas vary in size, and it appeared to me that hers was smaller than those we had seen already.  However, she made a big sound on it.  There was plenty of work for her to do – the movement was taken at considerable speed, and as well, there were double-stopping, octaves, string crossings (playing across several strings in rapid succession in one phrase or figure) to contend with.  These were all accomplished with skill and precision.  The orchestral part had not a lot to do; it was really just supporting the violist’s part harmonically.

Alexa Thomson also played the last work on the programme: the first movement (andante) from William Walton’s Viola Concerto.  Again, there was much double-stopping.  Slight intonation lapses in this and the previous work were not significant in light of the accomplishment of most of the playing.  This was a lively, invigorating and highly competent performance of a difficult work, and as the programme note said ‘showcasing the viola’s warm, rich tone’.

As a whole, the concert exhibited the skills of the viola students, as well as introducing a marvellous range of important works written for the instrument.

I was pleased to see that not all the students wore black clothes for performing.  I can see no need for students, who are not professional musicians, to attire themselves entirely in black, as they often do, especially not for daytime performances.  Let’s have some visual, as well as aural, colour.


Students explore viola repertoire at St Andrew’s

Posted on by Rosemary Collier

Viola Students of the NZSM

Hindemith: Sonata for viola and piano in F major, Op.11 no.4, movements 1 & 2
Schumann: Märchenbilder (Fairytale Pictures) for viola and piano, Op.113, movements 3 & 4
Bloch: Suite for viola and piano, movements 2 & 3
Walton: Viola Concerto in A minor, movement 1

Vincent Hardaker, Alice McIvor, Megan Ward (violas), Rafaelle Garlick-Grice (piano)

St Andrew’s on The Terrace

Wednesday, 10 October 2012, 12.15pm

These major twentieth-century viola works (excluding the Schumann) made an impressive muster.  The latest composition was Bloch’s, dating from 1958 (and the most modern-sounding it was); 1928-29 was the period of Walton’s concerto, though it was revised in 1961, and Hindemith’s was the earliest, composed in 1919.

The Hindemith was the first work played, by Vincent Hardaker.  The composer was himself a violist.   The work opened with low-pitched notes for the viola; this was a gorgeous sound, but there were a few hiccups soon after, and some coarse tone, particularly in the middle register.  A challenging and interesting piano part was very able played.  Excellent programme notes assisted the audience’s appreciation of the music, particularly the second movement, with its theme and variations.

Schumann wrote a considerable amount of programme music, that is, music telling a story or illustrating an extra-musical theme.  The third and fourth movements of the Märchenbilder were played by Alice McIvor.  ‘Rasch’, the third movement, depicted Rumpelstiltskin; like the character, it was tricky music!  The ‘Langsam’ final movement was in complete contrast.  It brought out all the richness of the instrument; serene and nostalgic, it was a true Romantic piece.

The pianist handled her material in a most sensitive fashion, her gentle rubati emphasising subtly the romantic nature of the music.  Alice McIvor proved to be a very competent performer, and together with Rafaelle Garlick-Grice, provided a consummate, very accomplished performance of both movements.

Megan Ward impressed by playing the second and fourth movements of the difficult Bloch Suite from memory – the only one of the performers to abandon use of the score.  How different this music was idiomatically from the previous item!  Megan Ward proved to be a very proficient player.  She and the pianist both handled a considerable amount of rapid gymnastics with aplomb, although the sound from the viola was rather more abrasive than that of the preceding violist – but that probably suited this music quite well.

The music had considerable interest, because Bloch sub-titled the movements: the second, “Grotesques: Simian Stage”, making it, as the programme note said, “one of extremely few pieces of classical music to be indisputably about monkeys”; the fourth movement, “Land of the Sun”, depicting, according to the programme note, “early society in China… described by the composer as ‘probably the most cheerful thing I ever wrote’”.

One could almost see the monkeys leaping around – probably those I saw on TV the previous night, in David Attenborough’s programme made in India.  The latter movement was bright, but rather more conventional.  Again, there was much complexity in the piano part, which was brilliantly played.

William Walton was a viola player, like Hindemith.  Alice McIvor returned to play the first movement of his Viola Concerto.  Of the three viola performers she had the most consistently good tone throughout the range.  She made a very fine performance of the movement, double-stopped melodies and all.  It was unified playing that interpreted the music coherently and gave the audience the good grasp of it that Alice obviously had.  Rafaelle produced beautiful tones from the piano.  It was a pity that the printed programme contained no biographical notes for her.

Perhaps a smile or two from the players at the end of the concert would have conveyed a feeling of pleasure in performing, and also would have recognised the audience’s applause.

 

Viva Viola at Lower Hutt campaigns for full recognition with both hits and misses

Posted on by Lindis Taylor

Viola Viva: The Next Generation (John Roxburgh, Alexa Thomson, Megan Ward and Vincent Hardaker)

Music by Bach, Handel, Bizet and Saint-Saëns

St Mark’s Church, Lower Hutt

Wednesday 26 September, 12.15pm

I find that I heard other embodiments of this ensemble last year, and a solo performance by Megan Ward in June. Previous experiences entertained me more than this one did, though there were things, such as the arrangement of Handel’s Fireworks Music, that I thought came off splendidly.

Almost all music for a group like this must be arrangements, and so there is the risk of running foul of the strong feeling in the more severe quarters of the classical music world that such things are bastards, disreputable, to be deplored. Most generalisations are dishonest and foolish and so is that. All arrangements must be taken on their merits and listened to objectively, and with one’s emotional antennae switched on.

I entered just after the Overture to the Royal Fireworks Music had begun and loved the depth of sonority achieved by these instruments; while their sound was quite different from that of woodwinds and brass, it produced a similar effect, of celebration and energy, adorned with plenty of variety, notably when the pensive middle section came. In La Paix (the peace the Peace of Aix-la-Chapelle at the end of the War of the Austrian Succession – succession of deceased despotic European monarchs was a bountiful source of conflict and profligate slaughter in the 18th century) I found myself wanting a little more sustained tone, but the entire three movements generally made a persuasive case for the enterprise.

The disposition of players changed democratically with each new piece, allowing each to be heard in the more prominent parts. I’ve always been fond of the Minuetto from Bizet’s incidental music for Daudet’s play, L’arlésienne; it seemed to have been much more played in the 1950s when my musical affections were at their most susceptible. But I couldn’t find it in my heart to fall for this arrangement the colours of which seem to matter more than they did in the Handel; the middle section – say, the Trio – sounded rather cloddish.

The Bach Fugue in C major – oddly truncated from its Prelude – seemed to do them no favours for it was so brief that I found it hard to become involved with, and the playing, capable as it was, simply did not persuade me. Perhaps its performance needs careful rethinking and really thoughtful repetition.

The next piece was an arrangement of ‘Lascia ch’io panga’ from Handel’s Rinaldo. Again I had misgivings about is success as a translation, and didn’t feel that it has bedded into its new habitation.

The last offering was Saint-Saëns’s tone poem Danse Macabre. John Roxburgh took his turn leading this, playing a good deal of the devilish bravura which was fit for a Paganini, or at least a Wieniawski as it might have been when it was written in 1873. It actually began life as a song setting of an eponymous poem by Henry Cazalis, and the composer did separate arrangements for piano solo and small orchestra before coming to its orchestral full dress.

So there is plenty of authority for adaptations here, and this one worked well, though one must be forgiven for missing the special effects such as xylophone. Its great popularity has, naturally, caused it to be dismissed by the more severe of music critics, but it is nevertheless a major work of its kind, one of the first after Liszt’s invention of the symphonic poem with its literary, artistic or philosophical references.

The players did well with the sul ponticello effects, and other departures from routine techniques. If intonation and ensemble were occasionally a fraction under perfect, its atmosphere was splendidly conjured right through to the beautifully protracted dying phrases, and the tonal quality both individually and in choruses, was often excellent, beguiling the ear.

This ensemble, and the personal variations on it that seem to occur, strike me as having a good future both in the specialised viola world and in the sphere of general classical music.

 

Adventurous and rewarding recital by Richard Mapp and Donald Maurice

Posted on by Lindis Taylor

Boris Pigovat: Prayer and Botticelli’s Magnificat (world premiere)
Georges Enescu: Sonata in the Romanian Folk Character (transcription by Donald Maurice)

Donald Maurice (viola) and Richard Mapp (piano)

St Andrew’s on The Terrace

Wednesday 4 July, 12.15pm

Students at New Zealand schools of music, and those at the school in Wellington in particular are fortunate in working in an environment that both encourages original composition and its performance, and encourages the exploration of not so new music.

Obviously, that is not at the expense of furnishing students’ memories with the great music of the past, though many will have come from secondary schools where exposure to very much of the wealth of music of earlier times has been patchy.

Certain of the teachers at the school have developed a reputation for unearthing music of unfamiliar composers as well as unfamiliar music of quite famous composers.

Donald Maurice has been prominent among them. Apart from being a leading figure in the international viola scene – he inspired the hosting of the International Viola Congress in Wellington a decade or so ago, for example – he has done very significant work in promoting the work of certain composers.

He published his own completion of Bartók’s unfinished viola concerto. With his colleagues in the New Zealand String Quartet he has committed to CD all 17 of Alfred Hill’s string quartets. And a couple of years ago, Maurice conducted the Wellington Chamber Orchestra in a concert of music by Bartók, Gary Goldschneider (a Romanian-inspired piece), Alfred Hill (one of his symphonies), Enescu and Pigovat (In Arentinian Style).

Mapp’s career has followed a more traditional, pianist’s path in terms of repertoire, returning to New Zealand after a lengthy career around Europe; and now lending his talents generously to accompany a great variety of musicians, students as well as distinguished professionals, in wide-ranging repertory; his much praised CD of piano music by Granados also indicates an exploratory disposition.

So this was another case of discovery. Maurice made a mark in 2011 with his recording with the Vector Wellington Orchestra, under Marc Taddei, of The Holocaust Requiem by Boris Pigovat; that followed the orchestra’s concert in 2008, with the first performance of Requiem outside Europe, as well as Prayer (which was played at the present recital), a piece for viola and harp, and a string quartet.

The Requiem was performed again, in September 2011, by Kenneth Young conducting the New Zealand School of Music Orchestra with Maurice playing viola.

Clearly he is attracted to the Israeli composer whose Prayer and Botticelli’s Magnificat he played at this concert.

Prayer is a slow, elegiac piece written during the composition of the Requiem, and breathing the same air; it too seems perfectly conceived for the viola which took charge of the emotional flavour of the piece, even though the piano’s role, when I could turn my attention away from the beauty and intensity of Maurice’s playing, was an essential participant, and handled with the utmost sensitivity by Mapp. Inevitably, I suppose, I also detected the accents of Ernest Bloch, particularly in the piece’s later phases.

Botticelli’s Magnificat was almost the work of another composer entirely, inspired by the famous painting in the Uffizi Gallery in Florence, placing the Medici family in a religious context. It is coloured in light tones, treating the two instruments in somewhat unusual ways, in which the piano is accorded greater prominence much of the time; it carried an open, clear melody while the viola played a sustained single note, a pedal, though in the treble register; however, the viola soon picked it up and elaborated it.

If our experience of Pigovat had been moulded so far by that Requiem and the Prayer, here was a more gracious, gregarious and peaceful fellow, though no less able to express emotion. It was a spirit that both players had no difficulty in communicating.

The sonata by Enescu was an even more interesting discovery (for me). An arrangement by Maurice of Enescu’s third violin sonata in A minor (Op 25), titled ‘dans le caractère populaire roumain’, as is the transcription. He has played it in the United States and Australia, as well as previously in New Zealand.

It struck me that one could approach it from one of two quite different standpoints: one, as a misalliance between generally lively folk music and its enforced conformity with formal classical composition styles; two, as offering a useful and imaginative model for the reassertion of the most common source of inspiration for serious composers over the centuries – popular music which is assimilated into interesting formal structures, as with the last movements of the third Razumovsky Quartet or Brahms’s Piano Quartet Op 25, or Smetana’s Ma Vlast.

I incline to the latter view, hearing it as arising from the same source as his two wonderful Romanian Rhapsodies, only here employing more refined resources. It starts with themes that are distinctly gypsyish in both instruments, with the piano often assuming a rather more important role to begin with, divertingly decorative against the viola which is confined for a while to sustained bowings that are in the nature of pedals.

The note about the second movement suggested a sinister mood, darkness, but I did not sense nocturnal terrors or the presence of anything supernatural, though the piano was given to darting about unpredictably. The third movement too was characterised in the notes in highly fanciful terms, and again my fears were not realised, but the character of the music and the highly accomplished playing convinced me that their pains with its performance had been justified and that more of Enescu’s music deserves a regular place in concert programmes.

Sergey Malov and Michael Houstoun – capturing the ebb and flow

Posted on by Peter Mechen

Chamber Music Hutt Valley presents:

SERGEY MALOV (violin/viola) and MICHAEL HOUSTOUN (piano)

SCHUBERT – Sonata in A Minor “Arpeggione” D.821 / JS BACH – Violincello Suite No.3 in C Major

SCHUMANN – Violon Sonata No.1 in A MInor Op.105 / PAGANINI – “La Campanella” (finale of Violin Concerto No.2)

Little Theatre, Lower Hutt

Friday 22nd June 2012

Rarely does a concert begin more poetically than when Schubert’s music is involved – or so it always seems at the time. The opening exchanges between piano and, in this case, viola, of the intriguingly-named “Arpeggione” Sonata brought their own resonance and warmth to the somewhat ungrateful acoustic of the Lower Hutt Little Theatre, thanks to both pianist Michael Houstoun’s and violist Sergey Malov’s lyrical, deeply-felt playing.

Schubert’s “Arpeggione” Sonata was so-called because of the music’s original commission for the so-named six-stringed instrument, one rather like a viola da gamba but fretted like a guitar. Its repertoire is today nearly always played on either a viola or ‘cello, though I have heard of moves afoot to reintroduce the beast for our interest and, hopefully, pleasure.

In particular, Malov’s viola sound had that quality shared by the playing of all great instrumentalists, at once a rich, mellow quality, but one that would sharpen its focus at moments along the musical line, indicating the strength of the thought behind the music-making. And no better a chamber-music partner here, than Michael Houstoun, whose sensitive, yet equally-focused playing seemed a perfect mirror for Malov’s intensities.

What struck me in particular was the intimacy of the musical discourse in places, the readiness of both players to draw their listeners in – but never self-consciously. One always felt the sensation of a composer’s thoughts and dreams flooding the places we were taken, a full gamut of expression, with nothing denied the chance to have its say. My notes are filled with comments such as “so spontaneous-sounding” and “wondrous flexibility of phrasing”, folllowed by “dreaming and introspective” and “communicating sheer enjoyment” – all impressions that defy analysis, but were foremost for me in the concert’s experience.

Following the Schubert, the Bartok Solo Violin Sonata was scheduled, but to our surprise Sergey Malov re-entered still carrying his viola. He asked the audience’s pardon, but said that he thought, after consultation with Michael Houstoun, that the hall’s sound with such a near-capacity audience would not serve the Bartok well, and so he proposed to play for us instead one of JS Bach’s solo ‘Cello Suites on his viola. Having enjoyed the Schubert, I was glad to have more of the viola’s attractively mellow voice, and agreeably pleased to hear how eloquently the instrument in Malov’s hands traversed the figurations of one of these works – in fact the Third Suite in C Major.

This was music-making which underlined the idea that, in Baroque music, the instrumental timbres and colours for different works seemed to matter far less than the player’s basic musicianship in bringing these things to life. At no point did I find myself thinking, “Oh, that comes off better on the ‘cello”, due to such care regarding note-values and overall phrasing being taken throughout by the player. Not that the approach was a literal “cross every “t” and dot every “i”, as Malov’s playing had a strongly-projected sense of freedom and spontaneity with whatever he did. Predominantly rhythmic movements were deliciously and pliably pointed (I enjoyed the occasional ambiguity of the music’s propulsion in the third movement), and Malov relished the near-strident “pulling the cat’s tail” couple of notes which Bach uses to induce tension during the last of the movements.

For the second half we moved slightly upwards in our listening, to the violin – Malov gave us Schumann’s First Sonata in A minor, a lovely performance from both violinist and pianist, rich, dark, agitated and unquiet throughout the ever-striving opening. Schumann writes such passionate melodies that often remain open-ended, heightening the longing for fulfillment, a super-sensitivity, but expressed in an entirely human way. Again I was taken with Michael Houstoun’s sensitive playing, ever alive to what his partner was doing and acting and reacting accordingly.

Though there’s lyrical warmth aplenty throughout certain moments, other episodes In Schumann’s chamber music can sound somewhat dour, with near-obessive repetition risking monotony. Such wasn’t the case here, as violinist and pianist brought so much light and shade to their voicing and interactive phrasings. And they brought out all the Allegretto second movement’s whimsical qualities, taking time to allow the brief German forest-echo sequence some resonance, before the opening’s reprise. The finale, though serious and purposeful, was kept nimble and buoyant, the dialogues between violin and piano beautiful synchronized, with the players bringing out singing lines in the midst of great energies.

The programme’s final listed item was Paganini’s “La Campanella”, taken from the finale of the composer’s Second Violin Concerto. This was a kind of extra-musical treat, with the composer most obviously out to entertain, delight, astonish, stupefy and generally gobsmack his audiences by requiring all kinds of instrumental pyrotechnics from his soloist. Occasionally there was some music, the famous theme, no less! – but it tended to be forgotten amid the breathholding double-stopped harmonics, the left-handed pizzicati, and the double-stopped legato phrasings ascending and descending. Michael Houstoun orchestrated his part wonderfully in places, but generally provided a solid foundation for Malov’s (and Paganini’s) violinistic flights of fancy.

After these heady entertainments, Sergey Malov seemed to rethink in part his decision to not attempt the Bartok Sonata, because as an encore he played part of the work, which, after the technical coruscations of the Paganini, actually fell more gratefully that one might have expected on our ears. I think this was perhaps because he had by this time “played in” both himself and his audience, to the point where he felt he could give us anything – our listening had been ‘fine-tuned” most satisfactorily, or so it seemed.

The exerpt from the sonata had a furtive, “pursued” aspect at the start, with the violinist having to jump back and forth between registers in places. When muted, the strings took on an even more shadowy, haunted character, a compelling world of sound thrown into relief by the soulful, pleading mute-removed lines which vie with the scampering music at the end. By the time he had finished we all wished he had in fact played the whole Bartok work after all – in retrospect, at the end of the concert would have been an ideal place because of that “playing-in” phenomenon which would have worked similar wonders with any demanding piece of modern or near-contemporary music.

So – a wonderful concert, one I will enjoy for ages to come, long after those actual sounds have died away. How marvellous to have heard a string player of such calibre, and with a pianist who brought his customary focus and beautifully appointed technical finish to a partnership of equals.