Showing posts with label Cambridge Music Festival. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cambridge Music Festival. Show all posts

Tuesday 17 October 2023

The Takács Quartet at Cambridge Music Festival with Haydn, Hough and Beethoven (uncorrected proof)

The Takács Quartet at Cambridge Music Festival with Haydn, Hough and Beethoven

More views of - or before - Cambridge Film Festival 2019 (17 to 24 October)
(Click here to go directly to the Festival web-site)

17 October

The Takács Quartet at Cambridge Music Festival with Haydn, Hough and Beethoven (uncorrected proof)


Programme :

(1) Haydn ~ String Quartet in D Major, Op. 71, No. 2

(2) Hough ~ String Quartet No. 1

(3) Beethoven ~ String Quartet No. 8 in E Minor




Personnel :

On the stage of West Road Concert Hall, the players of first violin (Edward Dusinberre) and viola (Richard Yongjae O'Neill) had elected to sit on piano-stools, and at opposite ends, with Harumi Rhodes (second violin) to Dusinberre's left, and cellist András Fejér to O'Neill's right (and next to Rhodes).


First half :

* Joseph Haydn (1732 – 1809) ~ String Quartet in D Major (1793), Op. 71, No. 2 (Hob. III : 70)

1. Adagio - Allegro
2. Adagio
3. Menuetto : Allegro
4. Allegretto - Allegro


(1) Haydn opens this string quartet in a very gracious mood, with the instrumentalists passing the partitioned line between them as if in a relay, but, of course, The Takacs Quartet does so in an effortless way that belies the concentration and skill involved. It was likewise clear from their smiles, to each other or to themselves, as they read what was on the page (especially Harumi Rhodes), that they were enjoying his wit, and the risk-taking modulation near the Allegro's conclusion.


The Adagio is the movement that feels to be the emotional centre of the work, and in which it became apparent that the attention of the audience at West Road Concert Hall was rapt. We might also have become aware of hearing the viola as 'an outlier' to the harmonic background that was given by the other instruments.

That being said, there is a reversal towards its end, and it is then the first violin that gives the incidental detail. However, it also proves to be very nearly the final bar, by which point Haydn's sensitive writing and the quartet's playing had wrung all of us out – we, and they, too !


From the Menuetto's spirited and lively introduction we pass into an in-between world, where Dusinberre (vn) and O'Neill (va) were playing exceptionally quietly. In this composition for string quartet, as a whole, it is noticeable that there is such great economy, with Haydn writing absolutely no more material than is necessary.


As in the opening movement, there is good-natured writing and fragmentation of the melody-line between the parts in the Allegretto, and with dance-rhythms becoming more prominent in the Allegro section. Haydn appears to indicate a coda (since it might turn out to be a late set of variations – or even a false ending ?), and we came to the end of this well-received performance of a gem of a piece.



* Stephen Hough (b. 1961) ~ String Quartet No. 1 (2021), Les Six rencontres

1. Au boulevard
2. Au parc
3. À l'hôtel
4. Au théâtre
5. À l'église
6. Au marché


(2) As Joanna Wyld's programme-notes imply, which quote extensively from Stephen Hough's own comments on the character of the rencontres*, and the music suggests, this set of movements is of a very cinematic nature : filmic depiction, and juxtaposition rather than 'development', is its mode of operation, but it also features what we heard in the Haydn, where fragments that make one musical line are passed around between the players.


The vigorous and colourful sound-world of Au boulevard was followed, in Au parc by the evening's first use (?) of Pizzicato, alongside what felt to be more than a hint of moto perpetuo, and a genial mood, but one perhaps tinged with Hitchcockian unease ?

Without intentionally listening out for the style of Francis Poulenc, it was À l'hôtel that most obviously reminded of it and his approach to melodic and harmonic invention. Until it proved to have a definite end, it seemed uncertain whether it might have been played without a break between it and Au théâtre.

However, that was not the case, and the latter's slide or 'tap' notes straightaway set it apart - was this, maybe, in the spirit of Arthur Honegger ? In any case, it continued with evocations of 'hamming' or stage horror, much use of tremolo, before a more serious and sad section (Tragedy after Comedy ?), and, with the viola prominent, a quiet close.


À l'église had wistful and phlegmatic writing, which was patently moving the performers (in this work's 'emotional centre'), and which might have had resemblances to Georges' Auric's cinematic score for Cocteau (La belle et la bête (1946)). Au marché seemed to have an incessant quality (and no bars' rest for any of the players ?), but yet a finality about it, marking its conclusion with bell-tones and their peals.



Second half :

* Ludwig van Beethoven (1770 – 1827) ~ String Quartet No. 8 in E Minor (1806), Opus 59, No. 2 (the 'Razumovsky' set**)

1. Allegro
2. Molto adagio
3. Allegretto
4. Finale : Presto


Beethoven's moody and magnificent (3) quartet is very different from what went before, so it truly did need an interval beforehand, as well as nothing to follow it – although, at the end of a powerfully affecting performance (not to say, of course, evening as a whole), an encore was repeatedly called for.


In the Allegro that opens the work, the viola keeps the line going, and the musical ship afloat, with an alleviation of the other players' harmonies. Perhaps, for maximum effect, our performers allowed themselves distending the suspenseful rests per tutti, but they principally and aptly gave the writing its full due weight from pacing and their dynamics.

They fitly reminded us, too, by bringing them out, how the composer's dissonances might have been 'shocking' in Vienna in the early nineteenth century (as the embedded Tweets allude to).


Through having noticed it when a pianist, say, performs a complete set of Nocturnes or Études, the writer, at least, believes that there is largely more scope, in a less-familiar number within that set***, for deviating from what is expected in or from it : though simultaneously asserting that this movement is 'the emotional centre' in Beethoven's work, yet the Molto allegro's 'under-exposure', as it were, likewise gives more and / or different scope for individuation.


The Allegretto is, of course, very familiar, but this was glorious, and, with the playing of Rhodes and O'Neill to the fore, full of rich expectancy that led us on to the joyous fugato section, where we could again hear the delicacy of the viola's tones.

To come...


The Finale also sounded fresh and, and we could again see that the players had smiles at the writing's felicities. Those same elements could be heard, which had been there in the opening work, of fragmentation of the musical line : it is always a sign of good programming when compositions 'talk to' each other !

Entrancing and entranced, right up to the end that we knew was coming and which we were willing on, this was a fit conclusion to a compelling evening of fine music from The Takács Quartet.


End-notes :

¹ Although Hough refers to Les Six, it seems that the string quartet was commissioned and written for a recording by The Takács Quartet of works for string quartet by Ravel and Dutilleux (neither of them members of Les Six).

² All three works come to us through patronage, even if, in the case of Sir Stephen's composition, we now say that it 'was commissioned'.

³ Which, differently put, is to say that, unlike those that are often played solo, or with one or two others that have been excerpted from the set, one that is far more infrequently heard does not have a recording or performance practice that suggests how it 'should' sound. (The same principle applies to the excessively known or played sections of the Verdi or Mozart Requiems.)




Unless stated otherwise, all films reviewed were screened at Festival Central (Arts Picturehouse, Cambridge)

Wednesday 20 October 2021

Bach connections : Mahan Esfahani at Cambridge Music Festival (work in progress)

Bach connections : Mahan Esfahani at Cambridge Music Festival (work in progress)

More views of - or before - Cambridge Film Festival 2019 (17 to 24 October)
(Click here to go directly to the Festival web-site)

20 October

Bach connections : Mahan Esfahani at Cambridge Music Festival (work in progress),
Wednesday 20 October 2021 at 7.30 p.m. at Downing Place United Reformed Church





The Sonata in G Minor (Wq65/17) by C. P. E. Bach – a somewhat fractured and fissile work ? – was played with due theatricality and considerable poise for, apart from the so-called London Bach, he was the son of Johann Sebastian's who had most caught the imagination of generations after his father's, with a compositional style that was quite other than that of the master of the complexities of counterpoint and of how to craft and interweave fugal-subjects :

Mahan Esfahani gave an unfamiliar work, whose movements appeared to end with the same somewhat casual gesture (as if endings were so 1750 ?), pacing and plenty of space in which to talk, before J. S. Bach's Chromatic Fantasia and Fugue (BWV 903), where there was more scope, and therefore more need, not to adopt some 'accepted' approach to performance, which can lead to oxidization and rust.

The Fantasia and Fugue had been known, first, to #UCFF from inclusion in Blandine Verlet's intense 2-LP set of Sämtliche Toccaten (The Complete Toccatas) from 1978, listened to, o'er and o'er (though latterly by making a recording on a C120 audio-cassette, rather than playing and turning and playing the vinyl) : such things, and the means that were then relatively limited for knowing more about the performer / music (beyond the immediate sleeve-notes), inevitably colour one's relations, for good or ill, to a repertoire or a piece.





Esfahani could initially be heard, slowing down the musical flow of the Fantasia in favour of its rotational or pausal elements – which was, perhaps, done in a nod both back to the affect of Emmanuel Bach², whose work he had just played, as well as forward, to that of Johann Kuhnau's Sonata, as it was to be presented to us (as one has to doubt how many there already knew or had specifically come to hear it ?).

Towards its end, Esfahani adopted a very lively, non-U manner to Bach in the energetic and vigorous delivery of notes (which some might typically call 'pounding' on the instrument's manual ?) – its vivid impressions of drama, and in no conceivable way to be mistaken (in its euphemistic sense) for authentic performance, with someone who plays so-called early music, but does not see himself as an early-music performer.


In the opening of the fugue, Esfahani was playing at a fairly modest tempo, and then, in the course of the work, started introducing special emphases, and what seemed to be² deliberate hesitations or changes of direction. At later points, he was playing very densely, such that we were presented 'a wash' of echoic sound :

To the extent that one might not have envisaged outside a piano forte and employing the sustain-pedal, or otherwise possible without the sound's being amplified or modified, and with a very pronounced bass register. (All of this began to set one wondering whether a sound-desk and speakers were in operation in the venue.)

The conclusion of the work was met with a roar of enthusiasm – though it was unclear whether for a rendition of a familiar work, from the novelty brought to it, or both. However, to judge from which Esfahani certainly seemed not to have been exaggerating, in telling Katie Derham² that there was something different about music in this city from its university rival that consisted in how audiences listen.






















End-notes :

¹ When he spoke to the audience, after the BWV 903 and pacingly inhabiting the front of the performance-space, there was, as well as a suavely provocative or subversive content, a pedagogic tone to how he addressed us :

Mahan Esfahani knew, because he not only underlined the point, but also drew attention to it, that we assuredly did not know whether, in addition to having been a lawyer, etc., Kuhnau had, in fact, written a novel about a harpsichordist who was or may have been, as he put it, 'a quack' - in that there was not only a twinkle in saying that, but a sort of off-hand and slightly sotto voce 'Make of that what you will...' afterwards.


² Then again, appearing in conversation with Katie Derham by telephone on Monday's Radio 3 In Tune (on air between 5.00 and 7.00 p.m. BST), Esfahani had not left for the UK, but, as he told us, had finished packing to travel for the recitals in Cambridge (on Wednesday), and then at Wigmore Hall (Thursday ?). [Regrettably, for some reason doubtless to due with construing the pandemic-related risk, the former was confined to one bill of fare, i.e. with no interval, despite four works on the bill (as one had heard had been the case at other CMF concerts).]







Unless stated otherwise, all films reviewed were screened at Festival Central (Arts Picturehouse, Cambridge)

Wednesday 12 November 2014

A review in Tweets : The Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment and King's College Choir

A review, in Tweets, of the opening concert of Cambridge Music Festival 2014


More views of - or before - Cambridge Film Festival 2014 (28 August to 7 September)
(Click here to go directly to the Festival web-site)


12 November

A review, in Tweets, of the opening concert of Cambridge Music Festival 2014 (@cammusicfest), given at King's College Chapel (@Kings_College) by its choir (@ChoirOfKingsCam) and The Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment (@theoae) under Stephen Cleobury, with soloists Elin Manahan Thomas (soprano), Susanna Hurrell (soprano), Tim Mead (counter-tenor), James Gilchrist (tenor), and Ben Appl (bass)























Unless stated otherwise, all films reviewed were screened at Festival Central (Arts Picturehouse, Cambridge)

Monday 18 November 2013

No debate about the quality

More views of - or before - Cambridge Film Festival 2013
(Click here to go directly to the Festival web-site)


19 November


This review is of a concert given by The Nash Ensemble, on Sunday 17 November, as part of Cambridge Music Festival


The Nash Ensemble (or this string subset of it) was never going to disappoint, but, despite live and recorded broadcasts on Radio 3 (@BBCRadio3), the delight of hearing and seeing it play had not been estimated. The group who played* comprised :

Violins
Stephanie Gonley
Laura Samuel


Violas
Lawrence Power
Philip Dukes


Cellos
Alice Neary (see her talk about her 300-year-old instrument and its character)
Pierre Doumenge



They began with Richard Strauss, the sextet that opens his one-act opera Capriccio. As such a title might suggest, the work had a sunny opening, and then the texture opened out, leading to hearing the upper register of the cello (with lower detail on the paired instrument), which is always a joy when composers let it sing properly. A tremulous passage followed, in which waves passed from the cellos to the violas, before we arrived at what felt like the emotional heart of the piece.

A brief cello solo then introduced writing where the other four instruments supported violin and cello in a duo, and this seemed a way of writing for this combination with which Strauss seemed most at ease, rather than, as the other composers did more, treating each voice as an equal. Here, virtuoso scoring for violin had an almost improvisatory quality to it, and Strauss had the lead player pass it to the second violin in order to effect a re-entry.

In a full ensemble as the piece concluded, it sounded as though these final chords depicted a sunset, before traditional means signified the actual close. The piece demonstrated the considerable balance of the ensemble, and the sonority that Strauss evoked was given its full effect.


Next, Dvořák’s four-movement Sextet in A Major, Op. 48, which opened as an Allegro–Moderato, with a theme whose instant engagement was brought out, and which increased in rhythmic intensity, as Doumenge plucked notes. The difference with Strauss lay in a balanced group of instruments, although one could still marvel at features such as Neary’s lovely tone, and the fact that, when the opening theme returned, it presented itself more deeply, and had a thoughtful character. A more agitated section was marked by the viola playing pizzicato, and then gave way to gestural notes from the cello, a softening of the tone, and ending on a loud concord.

The Dumka that followed (marked Poco allegretto) began with pizzicato notes from the cello, and was in three-four time (with a pair of quavers on the second beat) : as a dance, it felt a little strange to Western ears, and then the irregularly swaying beats intensified and swirled. In due course, the movement gave way to a more strophic passage, but whose metricality was suitably unaccented. Momentarily, it threatened to end softly, but gave way to a theme with a hesitantly oriental feel, before concluding in a few quiet strokes of the bow.

In a slightly squeaky Furiant, marked Presto, some cello pizzicati were executed with an unflashy ease before vigorous writing that paired the violin and cello, where we already had the greatest of confidence in Gonley and Neary. After a caesura, and a figure introduced by the violin, Power had a short passage where the viola gave a solo, which he played with great sensitivity. A tune in common measure, with a pair of quavers on the final beat, brought it to an end.

The Finale, in variation form, was marked Allegretto grazioso, quasi andantino, and the violas led in the opening, which became an effortlessly flowing violin melody that was to be the theme of the variations. Initially, they were underpinned by writing for the cellos, until the theme was passed to Neary, to the light accompaniment of sustained notes from the other players. As Dvořák proceeded, he altered the shape and the metre of his theme, and, in a variation that exuded serenity, the violas and the second cello played pizzicato. Later, he had contrasting blocks of measures, and the piece ended in rhythmic intensity and with an immensely impressive momentum.


By now, the audience was well pleased with the music that The Nash Ensemble had made, and reluctantly let them take a break. The pity was that there were so relatively few present to hear, as is all too often the case with concerts of chamber music (compared with orchestral or choral affairs).

With more there for a true experience of music in the round, the debating chamber of The Union Society in Cambridge would have felt no less intimate in this horseshoe of leather-upholstered bench-seats. Perhaps people think that chamber music is difficult, but, when you can focus on the playing of the individuals and appreciate their contribution to the whole, it takes some beating.



After the interval, a shorter second half with Tchaikovsky’s Souvenir de Florence (String Sextet in D Minor, Op. 70), also in four movements (slow movement second). The initial Allegro con spirito brought us straight into the flow, led by the first violin. This was playing of great energy, great expressiveness, as Tchaikovsky set up the recognized due of violin and cello. In a move that he was to repeat, he passed the melody briefly between violin and viola before on to the cello, and then the movement built and intensified, as the violin came to the fore, but with gorgeous detailing from Neary. The chamber felt as though it were full of sound from just these six instrumentalists, and then that movement of shifting emphasis reccurred. With motive force in the second cello, the movement ended.

Grave chords began the Adagio cantabile e con moto, giving way to the violin bowing over four pizzicato voices and a complementary entry from the cello, to which the second cello responded in the bass, with a rich, full sound from Doumenge. With a viola solo against the two cellos and the other three players pizzicato, the movement reached a very sonorous point, which gave way to a ghostly feeling, with a lower tone on the cello, a melody then completed by the violin, with flourishes on the cello, a deep bass line from the second cello, and the other strings pizzicato. Next, Tchaikovksy gave the viola a rich piece of writing, deep in the midst of its honeyed range, which, when it recurred, brought the Adagio to an end.

The Allegro moderato featured some very exciting cello-playing, before Tchaikovksy gave the violin some work reminiscent of the Violin Concerto in D Major, Op. 35, and where there was a feeling of rawness and freshness. Subsequent passages had a meditative quality, where it was clear how closely the players were communicating and listening to each other, and the end came with some very authoritative and assured string-work from Neary.

The opening of the Allegro vivace gave us a familiar theme, which moved on in a quasi-fugal way. As the movement developed, the players demonstrated again their mastery of a range of emotions and textures, and that they had dynamics under close control. Towards the end, they dropped down, but only to build up from there in volume, and, in a coda with bell-like notes, they brought the work to a conclusion with every last ounce of expression.


They were brought back three times, and, although there was no encore (we had ended on a good note), we were incalculably the richer for the evening.


End-notes

* Either four of the instrumentalists were guests, or the Nash web-site is not very up to date, because only Samuel and Power are listed there.




Unless stated otherwise, all films reviewed were screened at Festival Central (Arts Picturehouse, Cambridge)