Showing posts with label Lucy Wakeford. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Lucy Wakeford. Show all posts

Wednesday 15 February 2017

'Energetic and energizing' : At Lunch Two with Britten Sinfonia

This is a review of Britten Sinfonia's recital At Lunch Two on 14 February 2017

More views of - or before - Cambridge Film Festival 2016 (20 to 27 October)
(Click here to go directly to the Festival web-site)


14 February

This is a review of Britten Sinfonia with At Lunch Two at West Road Concert Hall, Cambridge, at 1.00 p.m. on Tuesday 14 February 2017


Programme :

1. Igor Stravinsky (1882-1971) ~ Three Pieces for String Quartet (1914¹) [4 players]

2. Mark-Anthony Turnage (1960-) ~ Prayer for a great man (2010) [2 players]

3. Oliver Knussen (1952-) ~ Cantata for oboe and string trio (1977) [4 players]

4. Maurice Ravel (1875-1937) ~ Introduction and Allegro (1905) [7 players]

5. Turnage ~ Col (2016) [8 players]

6. Stravinsky ~ Concertino for String Quartet (1920) [4 players]



Stravinsky I ~ Three Pieces for String Quartet (1914¹)

1. Danse

2. Eccentrique

3. Cantique


(1) Vibrant tone-colour from Jacqueline Shave (1st violin) and vigorous pizzicato on cello (Caroline Dearnley) characterized the first impression of the work, with Miranda Dale (2nd violin) making lively interjections in the brief Danse. Even so, we hear that Stravinsky’s writing is of a contrasting nature, and – in the overall somewhat atrophied sounds of the opening bars of Eccentrique – is juxtaposing inertia and lyricism. Before, that is, the intense flowering of the development section, and a return to this quirky form of spikiness, and the opening material’s serving partly as punctuation, partly as an ending.

Last, sensitively rendered by the violinists and more mournful, Cantique resembles a less-uninformed version of Beethoven as processed in Strauss’ Metamorphosen : quicker, but a mutated theme. Again, the writing relies on a contrast between passages and their affective colouring, but evoking a memory that is rooted, not in nostalgia, but in grief.



Turnage I ~ Prayer for a great man (2010)

(2) Prayer is uplifted, and positive, if stoic – it is, as with the preceding work, a fascinating blend of sounds, those of cello and of the horn – Martin Owen – with all its connotations of the martial, the inward, and the rustic. As the short piece progressed, we were aware how Caroline Dearnley’s freely-flowing cello-line worked with the latter : in the string legato, melding tones, although there was a deliberate, gentle mismatch with the horn’s timbre. A final, muted, section perhaps seemed to speak of adieu, or farewell.



Knussen ~ Cantata for oboe and string trio (1977)

Before Oliver Knussen’s instrumental (3) Cantata, the statesman-like tone and appearance of Nicholas Daniel (later, in a post-concert workshop (with / for Jago Thornton’s prize-winning composition), maybe less so ?), who said that we could expect to hear some of the instruments in tempo, others playing ‘out of time’ : as he put it, Strict, but flexible – parenting, I suppose ?

Nicholas Daniel also told us that he favoured – over Knussen’s own account of the work – when Knussen had shared, with Sinfonia players, that it is ‘like a series of diary-entries’, but ones that are technically connected. Compared with other works, rehearsing this one had apparently been more intense, but also more rewarding, and, although Daniel says that he is usually hesitant to say the word ‘masterpiece’, he promised (not wrongly) that Cantata was one - and jewel like


Characterizing – or trying, and failing, to characterize – the mood or feel of such diary-entries, when Knussen is deliberately being holistic with them, would not let his work be the centre-piece that it was of this superbly wrought and planned Sinfonia recital. Here, the incalculably strong overall effect of a moving entity, comprising people and a feeling of place, of being placed into the timeless eternity of Time :

As one would know from typically thoughtful Sinfonia programming, pairing how the Stravinsky ends with Turnage’s reaction to the passing of his father-in-law naturally fits with Knussen’s conception of Cantata - with all the changeability that we are aware of with, say, Bach’s portraits of the facets of the seeking of a soul in penitence [counter-tenor Robin Blaze with BWV 170, Vergnügte Ruh, beliebte Seelenlust], or Handel’s Un’alma inamorata, HWV 173 [Mhairi Lawson, with La Serenissima (LaSerenissimaUK)].

Or, of course, it could be Handel’s much more famous and beautiful da capo aria Lascia ch’io pianga [Almira / Il trionfo del tempo e del disinganno / Rinaldo], or Bach’s even more famous Erbarme dich, so beautiful where it comes in St Matthew Passion (BWV 244) : at such times, what is Time ?



Ravel ~ Introduction and Allegro(1905)

Maurice Ravel, though, has a radiance that is rarely outshone, and so we aptly heard next, in the familiar (4) Introduction and Allegro, his feeling for poesie and fantasie in the intensity of an imagined world : in the first harp solo, it became very clear that Ravel, in being commissioned to write this work to show off a new make of harp (pace Donald Macleod on Radio 3, that self-same day, with the evening repeat of Composer of the Week [#COTW]), is scoring in the spirit of writing for piano.

Further on, and starting with the delicacy of the cello (Caroline Dearnley), the other players (Miranda Dale and Clare Finnimore) joined her in pizzicato to accompany Jacqueline Shave's bowed violin, before another gorgeous, rapt harp solo from Lucy Wakeford. With the ensemble embodying faerie and fruitfulness, we came to the flowering and fecundity of the Allegro section – with the very lovely phrasing of Lucy Wakeford, who was given a well-earnt accolade by her fellow Sinfonia performers.



Turnage II (1960-) ~ Col (2016)

A tradition in music of The British Isles that goes back well before Elgar’s variations presents portraits in music (of a sort, Façade (1918-1923) is also one). Unfortunately, this is what Mark-Anthony Turnage does in (5) Col, in a piece that starts in open terms, but becomes first ruminative, and then – with or at the return of that initial material – becomes downright maudlin.

This is unlike the spirit of Ravel’s Tombeau de Couperin (1914-1917), Arvo Pärt in In memoriam Benjamin Britten (1977), or Stravinsky’s Epitaphium (Für das Grabmal des Prinzen Max Egon zu Fürstenberg) (1959), for flute, clarinet and piano, [or Double Canon ‘Raoul Dufy in Memoriam’ (1959)], and, rather, a requiem that is yet a birthday cake, but which serves as neither : though it is imperfect, one may be better hearing Colin Matthews the man, by watching Barrie Gavin’s Colin Matthews at 70 [seventy minutes or so of film about Colin Matthews, as screened at 2016’s Aldeburgh Festival of Arts and Music² (on which, see more, below)]…



Stravinsky II ~ Concertino for String Quartet

NB The programme-notes (by Jo Kirkbride) credit the (6) Concertino as dating to 1952 – having wondered about this, and then checked more authoritatively than on the Internet³ [Wikipedia®], the Concertino actually dates to 1920⁴, and its arrangement for small ensemble to 1952…

Given that L’histoire du soldat (The Soldier’s Tale) (1919) was from the year before 1920, it seems to endorse the comment above that one can hear hints of that work here. The Britten Sinfonia String Quartet plays the Concertino with aplomb : they happen, all, to be women, but the important point is that they are excellent musicians and communicators, and it is by their quality, not their gender, that one would commend their musicianship⁵.



In this work, as brought out here, the motivic elements underlie, but do not belie, its meditative qualities – the recapitulation that we heard was brimful of feeling, and tacitly contradicts a conception of Stravinsky as cool and unemotional. Just as did, one reflects, this string quartet with the Stravinsky piece(s) with which it / they opened a tribute to Louis #Andriessen at Milton Court last year (at The Barbican).


End-notes :

¹ Please see the note at the beginning of the section (below) for the second Stravinsky work for string quartet (and its dependent end-note⁴).

² One way in which the Festival is on a human scale is that, during the interval of a concert that had featured Matthews' work last year, one had the informality to address him on the stairs - to shake his hand, and briefly thank him.




Sadly, at some more 'protective' venues - unlike, for example, The National Centre for Early Music (NCEM / @yorkearlymusic) - one may not approach performers, even though they are just a small distance away (though not evident, stewards are there to prevent it) : those on stage have to be at a signing, or otherwise choose to come out into the foyer, for approaching them to be permitted.


³ In Roman Vlad's monograph entitled Stravinsky, pp. 79-81 (Oxford University Press, London (1978)).

⁴ With Three Pieces for String Quartet, it initially seemed that they were written in 1914, revised in 1918, but probably not published until 1922.

Roman Vlad (ibid, p. 50), after saying ‘Although very little known, these pieces are extremely significant as far as Stravinsky’s stylistic development and inner artistic motivation are concerned’, and then devoting several pages to them [in which, by analysing them, Vlad explains their importance to Stravinsky's and other composers' works], goes on to tell us (p. 54) :

Stravinsky himself was always greatly attached to [the Three Pieces], so much so that in 1917 he transcribed them for orchestra under the titles of ‘Danse’: ‘Excentrique’ : ‘Cantique’ [my emphasis] […].

⁵ On which point, initiatives such as Holly Tarquini's F-Rating (F-Rated (@F__Rating)) at Bath Film Festival (@BathFilm), or Cambridge's Reel Women (@ReelWomenUK), might take pause ? [Unless, of course, one claims that inclusion in a programme at the latter, or the former's Festival, is an absolute guarantee, per se, of outstanding quality.]




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

Friday 1 April 2016

At Lunch 3 : Flutter-notes, gong-sounds, and vigorous tremolo

This is a review of Britten Sinfonia in At Lunch 3 on 23 February 2016

More views of - or before - Cambridge Film Festival 2016 (20 to 27 October)
(Click here to go directly to the Festival web-site)


23 February

This is a review of At Lunch 3, given by Britten Sinfonia at West Road Concert Hall, Cambridge, on Tuesday 23 February 2016 at 1.00 p.m.


Debussy ~ Syrinx (1913)

Flautist Emer McDonough commenced the recital with this familiar work, (1) Syrinx, in the manner of an impromptu. It had two sections at the beginning that end with very quiet notes, and, with the impression and / or feeling of a dream, her playing luxuriated in the lugubrious passages in the lower register.

Afterwards, she said a few words about what a privilege it had been to prepare, and to be performing, this programme with Clare Finnimore and Lucy Wakeford.


Programme :

1. Claude Debussy (1862-1918) ~ Syrinx

2. Toru Takemitsu (1930-1996) ~ And then I knew ‘twas Wind

3. Daníel Bjarnson (1979-) ~ Parallel

4. Franco Donatoni (1927-2000) ~ Marches

5. Debussy ~ Sonata for Flute, Viola and Harp



Takemitsu ~ And then I knew ‘twas Wind (1992)

McDonough (the Sinfonia’s principal flautist) was joined by Clare Finnimore (principal violist), and, on pedal-harp, Lucy Wakeford (principal harpist) for (2) this composition for trio, which opens with harp.

One could easily enough identify Schoenbergian elements of flutter-notes on flute and vigorous tremolo on viola, but they were only means to an end (as when the tuning-block was used to give a steel-guitar effect on harp), even if they ineluctably summoned up a form of repertoire :

Playing as equal instruments in And then I knew ‘twas Wind (although it seemed to be the harp that introduced material, or made comments), they were required to be meditative on a 6- or 7-note theme, employing a variety of timbres and textures : for example, with Lucy Wakeford, on harp, changing attack and her techniques, and from sharp to light in a few notes.

As with Ligeti’s Continuum (which we heard Maggie Cole play in At Lunch 2), there was a danger here, in this pervasive and intense sound, of noticing too much, and so not noticing enough : almost just as faint stars can be seen best not by looking directly at them, but by letting oneself become aware of their presence in the periphery of one’s vision… ?



Bjarnson ~ Parallel (2016)

Different elements of the trio were in and out of being at rest in section I of (3) Parallel, with the casing of the harp being used, and with a sharp attack employed on viola and flute. Tonal, lyrical passages emerged, but we moved out to be quiet again in conclusion.

Section II initially had moving patterns for Wakeford over a sort of drone from viola and flute, which turned into an elegy for flute. Next, section III came straight in, with much – and more integrated – liveliness : very short, but full of energy.

Section IV opened with gong-like ‘clangs’ (claps ?) on solo harp, which became an ostinato over which the flute entered and floated, and the viola dipped in and out. With four long notes, the viola-writing became more expansive, and a coda had it to the fore (with quiet harp and flute), but we finished with soft flute and harp.



Donatoni ~ Marches (‘Steps’) (1979)

Lucy Wakeford introduced (4) this piece, which she played with inventiveness, and which has both a distinct sound and sound-world – often troubled in tone, and, with its obsessive material, producing anxiety (in this listener, at least).

The rhythmicity of Marches (‘Steps’) had the power to unsettle / disquiet [again, a point of comparison with the Ligeti from At Lunch 2], and could be considered to be expressing the content of dreams (or neuroses) that we struggle to wake from. At any rate, it caused Wakeford to be called back for applause at her virtuoso rendition.



Debussy ~ Sonata for Flute, Viola and Harp (1915)

1. Pastorale : Lento, dolce rubato
2. Interlude : Tempo di Minuetto
3. Finale : Allegro moderato ma risoluto


Clare Finnimore spoke briefly to introduce the (5) Sonata, and what it has meant to her in her time since she first played it (at music college ?). The opening Pastorale, as well as having, at the start, some well-known music in the vein of a Berceuse (to which some wish to go to sleep), had a real exuberance to it, and a fond feeling in the part for flute, which helped create an apparently care-free mood.

So we heard McDonough, with ‘jaunty’ writing for viola, and supported by the harp. At this point, the tone of the viola became full of earnestness, and, in its phrased line, perhaps we were reminded of a moment in Debussy's String Quartet (in G Minor, Op. 10) before the drowsy sensations accompanying the opening material recurred ?


The Interlude* will also be known to many outside of its context in the Sonata, and it represented a movement when the forces of the trio were in interchange : we heard the theme on the harp, then, when Finnimore’s viola joined in, glissandi, and material passing back and forth with the flute. When we heard the theme stated at the end, it was low on Emer McDonough’s instrument.


In the Finale, we had pizzicato writing and vigorous figures on the harp. There was much about this movement that was tempestuous and serious, as Finnimore had mentioned, with stern accents for viola. However, they fell away, and there was almost a touch of the comic, as Debussy eased off, closing in a different vein.


As, for its length, the work ‘claimed rank’ even on the Takemitsu, it was understandable that the Debussy received much applause : in a way, it was the work around which the whole programme had been built, and so, in bringing it full circle to Debussy, the acclaim was for all the moods that these principals of Britten Sinfonia (@BrittenSinfonia) had given us in this hour-long recital.


End-notes

* The word comes from mediaeval Latin interludium, from inter- ‘between’ + ludus ‘play’.





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