2010–2011
Sunday 17 October 2010, 7.30pm
VOGLER QUARTET
Beethoven: String Quartet in c sharp minor, op. 131
Berg: Lyric Suite
Schumann: String Quartet in A major, op. 41 no. 3
German quartet win over Haddington audience with a Czech aperitif
Haddington Concert Society’s Winter season got underway with a concert by the Vogler Quartet of Berlin, one of Europe’s finest string ensembles. The audience of more than a hundred had turned out for a packed programme of large-scale works by Beethoven, Berg and Schumann. So when the musicians announced a last minute substitution of the advertised opening piece, Beethoven’s profound and challenging late Quartet in C sharp minor, for his much shorter and lighter first string quartet, it felt like being short changed. But there had been a mix up and the players had never intended to play Beethoven’s longest quartet with Berg’s Lyric Suite – itself an intense, 40-minute work. So I was persuaded to allow the programme change and, as compensation, the quartet played, as an “appetizer”, one of Dvořák’s beautiful “Cypresses” as he called his string arrangements of Czech songs. The performance of Beethoven’s D major quartet, a sunny piece very much in the style of his teacher, Haydn, was magnificent with flawless ensemble, tremendous attack and absolute dedication from the players. Then came the dark centre of the programme – The Lyric Suite by Alban Berg. Twelve-tone music is an acquired taste and even Berg at his most romantic needs active listening: the quartet got exactly that from their audience. There was palpable silence between each of the six movements and at the end, after the players one by one faded away in the work’s memorable and moving closing bars, the thunderous applause showed that we were now completely onside. The programme change now made sense. After the interval we had Schumann’s last quartet and the mood changed again: still intense, but romantic and tuneful, sometimes looking into the past with Bach-like fugal passages and sometimes surveying his beloved Rhineland with rustic dances played over a rich deep ground from the magnificent cellist. It was a privilege to hear such music so close and so well played. And in the end it was what was delivered that mattered, not what was promised.
John FInch
Sunday 7 November 2010, 7.30pm
ALASDAIR BEATSON, piano
Mendelssohn: Fantasia in f sharp minor, op.28, "Sonate ecossaise"
Beethoven: Sonata in f minor, op.57, "Appassionata"
Schumann: Fantasie in C major, op.17
Chess masters begin their studies with the endgame, knowing that dynamic openings and sophisticated middle-games turn to dust in the face of distracted, clumsy endings. Masterly phrase endings (notoriously difficult at slow tempo on a non-sustaining instrument such as the piano) became immediately apparent in Alasdair Beatson’s account of Mendelssohn’s Fantasia in F Sharp Minor, Op. 28 “Sonate ecossaise”. So, too, did those nuances of timing, which illustrate the gulf between written score and performed work. While many performers fill that gulf with “themselves” I felt that this young soloist allowed the voice of the composer to speak through him. The victory of honed technique over anatomical inheritance strikes me as the best counter to the claims of élitism which often beleaguer classical music. Beatson – who could scarcely be described as a heavy man – proved capable of coaxing a massive tone out of the Bösendorfer grand piano. All three works in the programme demanded such moments – the insistent and possessed finale of this Fantasia being no exception.
The vastly variable territory of Beethoven’s Sonata in F Minor, Op. 57 “Appassionata” allowed free rein to Beatson’s wide expressive range. Two volatile movements, exhibiting the “discomfort” highlighted in the soloist’s thoughtful introductory remarks, flanked a temporary oasis of calm in which Beatson’s soaring lyricism contrasted beautifully with the surrounding torment.
The second half consisted solely of Schumann's substantial Fantasie in C Major, Op. 17. Written at the age of 26 (and revised three years later) this piece exudes longing. One of the mysteries of music is how feelings of such depth can be portrayed - and interpreted - by those in the Spring of their lives. One clue, as far as the performer is concerned, might be that gulf between the written score and the performed work. Beatson had no notes in front of him. We could see him listening within, summoning up his memory – not of the notes – but of the sound and its emotional content.
Acknowledging a very warm audience response, Beatson offered an encore of Mendelssohn's Song Without Words Op 67 No. 34 (Spinning Song). Light, energetic and joyous, it was the perfect compliment to the more weighty items in this thoroughly engaging programme.
This was Alasdair Beatson's second solo appearance for Haddington Concert Society. It's impossible to imagine that there won't be a third. To follow the progress of this gifted soloist, visit www.alasdairbeatson.com
Alan Coady
Sunday 16 January 2011, 7.30pm
EAST LOTHIAN PLAYERS
with Katharine Wake, flute and Fiona Hyslop, harp
conducted by Robert Dick
Mozart: Concerto in C for Flute, Harp, & Orchestra, K. 299
Raymond Dodd: Synfonia No. 2 world première
Haydn: Symphony No. 99 in E flat
Clad in black, the largest ensemble to delight Haddington Concert Society for some 15 months, filed down the aisles of a packed Town House on Sunday 16 Jan. Under the considered, clear baton of multiple-award-winning conductor, Robert Dick, the East Lothian Players offered a symmetrical programme the ancient and modern.
On the eve of Mozart's 256th birthday, the ensemble opened with his Concerto in C for Flute and Harp (K299), featuring Katharine Wake (flute) and Fiona Hyslop (harp). This elegant work afforded the soloists many passages of both delicate and dynamic virtuosity.
Although I've attended many premiers with the composer present, this was the first time I had witnessed the authorial voice explaining what to listen out for in the piece in order to increase understanding and enjoyment of a first hearing. An entertaining speaker, Raymond Dodd earmarked a few signposts (with the assistance of the orchestra) in his immensely appealing Sinfonietta No. 2. The language, although unmistakably contemporary, was accessible to the audience who received the piece very warmly. In three joined movements, the energetic-reflective-energetic structure of this work beautifully mirrored the larger programming of the concert.
Refreshed by the interval, and benefiting from augmented forces, the East Lothian Players rounded off the evening with Haydn's Symphony No. 99 in E Flat – one of his London Symphonies. I had the feeling that this might be a favourite of the orchestra, or that they had perhaps performed it on previous occasions, as the rendition was unmistakably ebullient and authoritative. As Mozart especially revered Haydn, it was touching to think that this late work – written two years after Mozart's death – came from the pen of a man who enjoyed a lifespan more that double that of his younger contemporary.
The audience were very generous in their applause – both for the soloists and the orchestra. It would be nice to have another opportunity to hear them again before too long and, with any luck, to enjoy a second hearing of Raymond Dodd's Sinfonietta No. 2.
Alan Coady
Sunday 20 February 2011, 7.30pm
GOULD PIANO TRIO
Haydn: Trio No. 28 in E major
Dvorak: Trio in B flat, op.21
Shostakovaich: Trio No.2 in e minor, op.67
What is it about live, classical music which draws a capacity crowd on a winter's evening? The edge which live performance brings? The chance to see a favourite artist? To hear an alternative interpretation of a familiar piece? Or is it something about sound – about acoustics? As the Gould Piano Trio opened their recital with Haydn's Trio for Piano, Violin and Cello in E (Hob. 15/28) I was immediately struck by what recording engineers refer to as separation. Not only could I hear, more vividly than in my experience of recorded music, the perfectly balanced harmonies of the trio, but also the individual narrative of each part. This is certainly to do with the medium of the piano trio and the clarity of the composition, but the quality of the playing is paramount – the art that conceals art. This great opening item's two lively, major key movements flank an entrancing, Bach-like, minor key Allegretto of serpentine persistence. This excellent trio nailed the piece's joie de vivre as convincingly as they did its darker centre – a great beginning!
By way of introduction to the first half's remaining item, cellist, Alice Neary, commented upon the many key changes which characterise Dvořák's Trio for Piano, Violin and Cello in Bb, Op 21 (1875). This heads-up enhanced enjoyment of the harmonic quicksand, along with the many surprise destinations and colours precipitated. This piece, more than the mannerly Haydn, allowed the Gould Trio to unleash some of their astonishing energy. This is not a quality I had previously associated with Dvořák and I remain indebted to the trio for encouraging me to revisit this composer. The many sudden switches from the dynamic to the lyrical were handled with great flair and sensitivity.
Any discussion of those ingredients which lend music gravitas would surely be unfinishable. However, few would doubt that this quality pervades, for personal and historical reasons, many of the works of Shostakovich. Written during the 872-day siege of Leningrad, and in memory of his musicologist friend, Ivan Sollertinsky, the Piano Trio No. 2 in Em features desolation and fury in equal measure. Even the dance-like finale exudes menace. The virtuosity required to pull off a performance of this work is undeniable, and the ability of the trio to communicate the incommunicable left a huge impression on the audience, registering in lasting applause.
Acknowledging that no convincing transition from Shostakovich to encore is really possible, the trio wisely opted for a distant world, with another language – that of Cyril Scott, known as the English Debussy. His gently lilting Cornish Boat Song soothed the magnificent tensions of the Shostakovich before the audience bade a fond au revoir to the Gould Piano Trio (http://gouldpianotrio.com)
Alan Coady
Sunday 13 March 2011, 7.30pm
QUINTET ZAMBRA with Michael Higgins, piano
Jim Parker: Mississippi Five
Ludwig Thuille: Sextet in B flat major, op.6, for Wind Quintet and Piano
Carl Nielsen: Wind Quintet, op.43
Francis Poulenc: Sextet for Wind Quintet and Piano
A tradition of chronological programming held sway in classical recitals for many years. Although often resulting in a more driving finale than might otherwise be the case, there was the danger that the entertainment resembled a musical history lesson. When the young, personable Quintet Zambra took the floor of Haddington's Town House, it was clear from the friendly introductory remarks and the programme's opening that this was not destined to be a recherché affair.
Mississippi Five by Jim Parker (of Midsomer Murders fame) was an inventive, 1920s-style suite, featuring tributes to such jazz greats as King Oliver and Bessie Smith. Deprived of a standard rhythm section, it was up to the quintet to provide, through impressive articulation, the punch necessary for the genre. This was especially true of bassoonist, Fraser Gordon and clarinettist, Nicola Turner, who contributed tireless musicality throughout the entire programme.
London-based pianist Michael Higgins swelled the ranks for Ludwig Thuille's Sextet in Bb Major Op. 6. I'd never heard of Thuille and, during opening Allegro Moderato, I sensed why. The following Larghetto was much more harmonically inventive. The visionary neo-classical middle section of the Gavotte really stood out. A lifeless Vivace closed the piece. This is not to fault the playing, which was superb throughout. The problem was, for me, the piece – at best, Brahms with a hangover.
Carl Nielsen's Wind Quintet Op. 43, which opened the second half, has an interesting back-story. Inspired by his hearing the Copenhagen Wind Quintet, in the background, during a chance telephone call, the piece literally followed the composer to his grave, exactly nine years after its prémier. It featured dynamic, skilfully handled counterpoint and contrasting reflective moments. I found the harmony in this piece interesting. While retaining an allegiance to tonality, Nielsen seemed occasionally subtly to hint at his awareness that many contemporaries had already abandoned it by the piece's genesis (1922).
Pianist, Michael Higgins returned to the stage to complete the cast for the finale – Sextet by the iconoclastic Francis Poulenc. His playing, as understated as it was impressive, contributed significantly to the dynamism of this performance. This witty, quixotic, sophisticated piece was a great finisher and all rose to the occasion. The mercurial nature of this work highlighted an aspect of the skill of these young performers essential in chamber music (where there is no conductor). The pianist being seated behind the arc of wind players, opportunities for eye contact were limited and the many dramatic changes in tempo were skilfully navigated using those most important of ensemble skills – listening and responding to one another.
A perky sextet arrangement of Gershwin's I Got Rhythm furnished an encore for a very appreciative audience. I feel sure that we will be hearing a great deal more from these impressive, expressive young players: http://quintetzambra.com/
Alan Coady
Sunday 27 March 2011, 7.30pm
VARDANYAN QUARTET with Sophie Warwick, piano
Haydn: String Quartet in D major, op.64 no.5, "The Lark"
Grieg: String Quartet in g minor, op.27
Schumann: Piano Quintet in E flat major, op. 44
With only Nikolai Demidenko's Gala Recital on Sunday 10th April remaining, the recital by the Vardanyan Quartet marked the end of Haddington Concert Society's 2010/11 Music Close Up season. The only single-gender ensemble I've seen in two seasons of concerts, the quartet opened with Haydn's String Quartet in D Major, Op. 64 No. 5 “The Lark.” As the title suggests, soaring melody characterised the opening movement, casting the first violin as much in the role of soloist as ensemble member. The light touch of this movement was continued throughout the Adagio and Minuet and, only in the closing Vivace, was the elegance typical of Haydn replaced by more furious counterpoint, driving The Lark towards its conclusion with Earthbound panache.
It felt like a nice touch of programming that the change of gear in the Haydn finale pointed the way to the the more full sound of Grieg's Quartet in G Minor, Op. 27. As one might expect of a quartet written 88 years after the Haydn, the harmonic language was much more dense and romantic. However, the sense of increased substance was as much to do with overall length. Each movement containing a slow introduction followed by more animated material, the piece felt more like eight movements than the traditional four. The excellent programme notes touched upon Grieg's determination to shake off the mantle of miniaturist by mastering larger forms. This struggle revealed itself in the sectionalised nature of some of the writing. However, the melodic, rhythmic and harmonic passion of the piece would incline any listener to forgive Grieg any battle fatigue in the war of organic versus flat-pack. More than anything, this piece, close on the heels of the Haydn, allowed us to experience the massive stylistic and expressive range of this impressive, young quartet.
The sole work in the second half, Schumann's Piano Quintet in Eb, Op. 44, was outstandingly performed. The addition of the excellent Sophie Warwick, on the Society's Bösendorfer grand piano, seemed to turn the quartet into a small orchestra. Obviously an excellent pianist from within the first few seconds of the opening movement, she is also a very sensitive and expressive chamber musician, switching effortlessly between the roles of soloist, accompanist and ensemble member. I felt the already impressive cohesion of the quartet to reach new heights in this setting. The reaction of the audience, and the remarks of those to whom I spoke after the concert, suggested that I wasn't alone in this impression.
The Haddington Concert Society has an impressive track record of promoting young musicians. In an age when the relevance of classical music is regularly challenged, it was especially moving to hear top class young musicians resonate across the ages with Schumann, who penned this masterpiece at the relatively young age of 32. I look forward to following the fortunes of these excellent musicians.
Alan Coady
Sunday 10 April 2011, 7.30pm
GALA PIANO RECITAL • Nikolai Demidenko
Beethoven: Sonata in C minor (‘Pathétique’), op.13 · Sonata in C-sharp minor (‘Moonlight’), op.27 no.2 • Chopin: Polonaise-fantasie, op.61 · Impromptu in F-sharp major, op.36 · Barcarolle in F-sharp major, op.60 • Liszt: Ballade no.1, in D-flat major · Hungarian Rhapsody no.13, in A minor · Concert Paraphrase on Verdi’s ‘Rigoletto’
Close on the heels of this season of Music Up Close concerts, Nikolai Demidenko delighted a packed Haddington Town House with a programme of Beethoven, Chopin and Liszt.
The programme opened with two much loved Beethoven works: Piano Sonata in C minor, 'Pathétique' Op. 13 and Piano Sonata in C# minor, 'Moonlight' Op. 27 No. 2. The beginning of the Pathétique features as many Beethovenian ear-grabbing elements as one could wish for in an opening item: instant tension; gravitas - his personal key of Cm; frequent pauses, making even those who know the piece intimately wonder what is coming next. Lest we misunderstand the emotional intent of the piece, it might be worth noting that the term pathétique implies 'appealing to the feelings' as opposed simply to depicting the downtrodden. The power and determination of the Allegro movements suggests the very opposite and this was projected very convincingly in the playing. Although the term 'moonlight' wasn't Beethoven's, its ambiguous associations seem to align well with the ambivalent harmony in the opening Adagio sostenuto. Demidenko's handling of the unsettled passages of diminished chords, with their unpredictable outcomes, seemed to resonate with uncertain times – Beethoven's and ours. The airy lightness of the following Allegretto was a welcome tonic before the more edgy and magnificently played Presto agitato brought about resounding applause.
Elegant, economic programming allowed the three Chopin pieces, to highlight his command of four genres. The first and most extensive of these, Polonaise-fantaisie in A flat major, Op. 61, mirrored the opening of the Pathétique in its alternation of rhythmic and arrhythmic. Through adventurous harmony and formal innovation, it transformed the aristocratic origins of the Polonaise into something much more urgent and alive. I felt that Demidenko got right to the heart of this. The lyrically wistful Impromptu No. 2 in F# minor, Op. 36 - beautifully rendered - led us into the Barcarolle in F# major, Op. 60, in which Demidenko beautifully illustrated yet another dimension of this ambassador of the piano.
Chopin, a reluctant performer, was outlived by his altogether more rock and roll contemporary Franz Liszt to the tune of 36 years. In Ballade No. 1 in D flat major, Demidenko showed us the more reflective side of Liszt's nature. The Hungarian Rhapsody, for piano, No. 13 in A minor – whose closing dance-like, virtuosic fireworks elicited many spontaneous cheers from audience – was an altogether more flamboyant affair. Employing improvisatory passages built on the Hungarian gypsy scale along with folk melodies, this was a truly exotic work, performed with great flair. The closing programmed work, Concert Paraphrase on Verdi's 'Rigolletto' was as dramatic as one could hope an opera-inspired item to be. Relying on extreme textural variation, which only a virtuoso could survive, this was a wonderful closing item and brought an eruption of applause from a very appreciative audience.
Demidenko graced the audience with two encores: Chopin's reflective Nocturne in C# minor, Op. 27 No. 1 and a brisk, harmonically impish Sonata by Scarlatti, bringing down the curtain on a wonderful season of concerts.
Alan Coady
VOGLER QUARTET
Beethoven: String Quartet in c sharp minor, op. 131
Berg: Lyric Suite
Schumann: String Quartet in A major, op. 41 no. 3
German quartet win over Haddington audience with a Czech aperitif
Haddington Concert Society’s Winter season got underway with a concert by the Vogler Quartet of Berlin, one of Europe’s finest string ensembles. The audience of more than a hundred had turned out for a packed programme of large-scale works by Beethoven, Berg and Schumann. So when the musicians announced a last minute substitution of the advertised opening piece, Beethoven’s profound and challenging late Quartet in C sharp minor, for his much shorter and lighter first string quartet, it felt like being short changed. But there had been a mix up and the players had never intended to play Beethoven’s longest quartet with Berg’s Lyric Suite – itself an intense, 40-minute work. So I was persuaded to allow the programme change and, as compensation, the quartet played, as an “appetizer”, one of Dvořák’s beautiful “Cypresses” as he called his string arrangements of Czech songs. The performance of Beethoven’s D major quartet, a sunny piece very much in the style of his teacher, Haydn, was magnificent with flawless ensemble, tremendous attack and absolute dedication from the players. Then came the dark centre of the programme – The Lyric Suite by Alban Berg. Twelve-tone music is an acquired taste and even Berg at his most romantic needs active listening: the quartet got exactly that from their audience. There was palpable silence between each of the six movements and at the end, after the players one by one faded away in the work’s memorable and moving closing bars, the thunderous applause showed that we were now completely onside. The programme change now made sense. After the interval we had Schumann’s last quartet and the mood changed again: still intense, but romantic and tuneful, sometimes looking into the past with Bach-like fugal passages and sometimes surveying his beloved Rhineland with rustic dances played over a rich deep ground from the magnificent cellist. It was a privilege to hear such music so close and so well played. And in the end it was what was delivered that mattered, not what was promised.
John FInch
Sunday 7 November 2010, 7.30pm
ALASDAIR BEATSON, piano
Mendelssohn: Fantasia in f sharp minor, op.28, "Sonate ecossaise"
Beethoven: Sonata in f minor, op.57, "Appassionata"
Schumann: Fantasie in C major, op.17
Chess masters begin their studies with the endgame, knowing that dynamic openings and sophisticated middle-games turn to dust in the face of distracted, clumsy endings. Masterly phrase endings (notoriously difficult at slow tempo on a non-sustaining instrument such as the piano) became immediately apparent in Alasdair Beatson’s account of Mendelssohn’s Fantasia in F Sharp Minor, Op. 28 “Sonate ecossaise”. So, too, did those nuances of timing, which illustrate the gulf between written score and performed work. While many performers fill that gulf with “themselves” I felt that this young soloist allowed the voice of the composer to speak through him. The victory of honed technique over anatomical inheritance strikes me as the best counter to the claims of élitism which often beleaguer classical music. Beatson – who could scarcely be described as a heavy man – proved capable of coaxing a massive tone out of the Bösendorfer grand piano. All three works in the programme demanded such moments – the insistent and possessed finale of this Fantasia being no exception.
The vastly variable territory of Beethoven’s Sonata in F Minor, Op. 57 “Appassionata” allowed free rein to Beatson’s wide expressive range. Two volatile movements, exhibiting the “discomfort” highlighted in the soloist’s thoughtful introductory remarks, flanked a temporary oasis of calm in which Beatson’s soaring lyricism contrasted beautifully with the surrounding torment.
The second half consisted solely of Schumann's substantial Fantasie in C Major, Op. 17. Written at the age of 26 (and revised three years later) this piece exudes longing. One of the mysteries of music is how feelings of such depth can be portrayed - and interpreted - by those in the Spring of their lives. One clue, as far as the performer is concerned, might be that gulf between the written score and the performed work. Beatson had no notes in front of him. We could see him listening within, summoning up his memory – not of the notes – but of the sound and its emotional content.
Acknowledging a very warm audience response, Beatson offered an encore of Mendelssohn's Song Without Words Op 67 No. 34 (Spinning Song). Light, energetic and joyous, it was the perfect compliment to the more weighty items in this thoroughly engaging programme.
This was Alasdair Beatson's second solo appearance for Haddington Concert Society. It's impossible to imagine that there won't be a third. To follow the progress of this gifted soloist, visit www.alasdairbeatson.com
Alan Coady
Sunday 16 January 2011, 7.30pm
EAST LOTHIAN PLAYERS
with Katharine Wake, flute and Fiona Hyslop, harp
conducted by Robert Dick
Mozart: Concerto in C for Flute, Harp, & Orchestra, K. 299
Raymond Dodd: Synfonia No. 2 world première
Haydn: Symphony No. 99 in E flat
Clad in black, the largest ensemble to delight Haddington Concert Society for some 15 months, filed down the aisles of a packed Town House on Sunday 16 Jan. Under the considered, clear baton of multiple-award-winning conductor, Robert Dick, the East Lothian Players offered a symmetrical programme the ancient and modern.
On the eve of Mozart's 256th birthday, the ensemble opened with his Concerto in C for Flute and Harp (K299), featuring Katharine Wake (flute) and Fiona Hyslop (harp). This elegant work afforded the soloists many passages of both delicate and dynamic virtuosity.
Although I've attended many premiers with the composer present, this was the first time I had witnessed the authorial voice explaining what to listen out for in the piece in order to increase understanding and enjoyment of a first hearing. An entertaining speaker, Raymond Dodd earmarked a few signposts (with the assistance of the orchestra) in his immensely appealing Sinfonietta No. 2. The language, although unmistakably contemporary, was accessible to the audience who received the piece very warmly. In three joined movements, the energetic-reflective-energetic structure of this work beautifully mirrored the larger programming of the concert.
Refreshed by the interval, and benefiting from augmented forces, the East Lothian Players rounded off the evening with Haydn's Symphony No. 99 in E Flat – one of his London Symphonies. I had the feeling that this might be a favourite of the orchestra, or that they had perhaps performed it on previous occasions, as the rendition was unmistakably ebullient and authoritative. As Mozart especially revered Haydn, it was touching to think that this late work – written two years after Mozart's death – came from the pen of a man who enjoyed a lifespan more that double that of his younger contemporary.
The audience were very generous in their applause – both for the soloists and the orchestra. It would be nice to have another opportunity to hear them again before too long and, with any luck, to enjoy a second hearing of Raymond Dodd's Sinfonietta No. 2.
Alan Coady
Sunday 20 February 2011, 7.30pm
GOULD PIANO TRIO
Haydn: Trio No. 28 in E major
Dvorak: Trio in B flat, op.21
Shostakovaich: Trio No.2 in e minor, op.67
What is it about live, classical music which draws a capacity crowd on a winter's evening? The edge which live performance brings? The chance to see a favourite artist? To hear an alternative interpretation of a familiar piece? Or is it something about sound – about acoustics? As the Gould Piano Trio opened their recital with Haydn's Trio for Piano, Violin and Cello in E (Hob. 15/28) I was immediately struck by what recording engineers refer to as separation. Not only could I hear, more vividly than in my experience of recorded music, the perfectly balanced harmonies of the trio, but also the individual narrative of each part. This is certainly to do with the medium of the piano trio and the clarity of the composition, but the quality of the playing is paramount – the art that conceals art. This great opening item's two lively, major key movements flank an entrancing, Bach-like, minor key Allegretto of serpentine persistence. This excellent trio nailed the piece's joie de vivre as convincingly as they did its darker centre – a great beginning!
By way of introduction to the first half's remaining item, cellist, Alice Neary, commented upon the many key changes which characterise Dvořák's Trio for Piano, Violin and Cello in Bb, Op 21 (1875). This heads-up enhanced enjoyment of the harmonic quicksand, along with the many surprise destinations and colours precipitated. This piece, more than the mannerly Haydn, allowed the Gould Trio to unleash some of their astonishing energy. This is not a quality I had previously associated with Dvořák and I remain indebted to the trio for encouraging me to revisit this composer. The many sudden switches from the dynamic to the lyrical were handled with great flair and sensitivity.
Any discussion of those ingredients which lend music gravitas would surely be unfinishable. However, few would doubt that this quality pervades, for personal and historical reasons, many of the works of Shostakovich. Written during the 872-day siege of Leningrad, and in memory of his musicologist friend, Ivan Sollertinsky, the Piano Trio No. 2 in Em features desolation and fury in equal measure. Even the dance-like finale exudes menace. The virtuosity required to pull off a performance of this work is undeniable, and the ability of the trio to communicate the incommunicable left a huge impression on the audience, registering in lasting applause.
Acknowledging that no convincing transition from Shostakovich to encore is really possible, the trio wisely opted for a distant world, with another language – that of Cyril Scott, known as the English Debussy. His gently lilting Cornish Boat Song soothed the magnificent tensions of the Shostakovich before the audience bade a fond au revoir to the Gould Piano Trio (http://gouldpianotrio.com)
Alan Coady
Sunday 13 March 2011, 7.30pm
QUINTET ZAMBRA with Michael Higgins, piano
Jim Parker: Mississippi Five
Ludwig Thuille: Sextet in B flat major, op.6, for Wind Quintet and Piano
Carl Nielsen: Wind Quintet, op.43
Francis Poulenc: Sextet for Wind Quintet and Piano
A tradition of chronological programming held sway in classical recitals for many years. Although often resulting in a more driving finale than might otherwise be the case, there was the danger that the entertainment resembled a musical history lesson. When the young, personable Quintet Zambra took the floor of Haddington's Town House, it was clear from the friendly introductory remarks and the programme's opening that this was not destined to be a recherché affair.
Mississippi Five by Jim Parker (of Midsomer Murders fame) was an inventive, 1920s-style suite, featuring tributes to such jazz greats as King Oliver and Bessie Smith. Deprived of a standard rhythm section, it was up to the quintet to provide, through impressive articulation, the punch necessary for the genre. This was especially true of bassoonist, Fraser Gordon and clarinettist, Nicola Turner, who contributed tireless musicality throughout the entire programme.
London-based pianist Michael Higgins swelled the ranks for Ludwig Thuille's Sextet in Bb Major Op. 6. I'd never heard of Thuille and, during opening Allegro Moderato, I sensed why. The following Larghetto was much more harmonically inventive. The visionary neo-classical middle section of the Gavotte really stood out. A lifeless Vivace closed the piece. This is not to fault the playing, which was superb throughout. The problem was, for me, the piece – at best, Brahms with a hangover.
Carl Nielsen's Wind Quintet Op. 43, which opened the second half, has an interesting back-story. Inspired by his hearing the Copenhagen Wind Quintet, in the background, during a chance telephone call, the piece literally followed the composer to his grave, exactly nine years after its prémier. It featured dynamic, skilfully handled counterpoint and contrasting reflective moments. I found the harmony in this piece interesting. While retaining an allegiance to tonality, Nielsen seemed occasionally subtly to hint at his awareness that many contemporaries had already abandoned it by the piece's genesis (1922).
Pianist, Michael Higgins returned to the stage to complete the cast for the finale – Sextet by the iconoclastic Francis Poulenc. His playing, as understated as it was impressive, contributed significantly to the dynamism of this performance. This witty, quixotic, sophisticated piece was a great finisher and all rose to the occasion. The mercurial nature of this work highlighted an aspect of the skill of these young performers essential in chamber music (where there is no conductor). The pianist being seated behind the arc of wind players, opportunities for eye contact were limited and the many dramatic changes in tempo were skilfully navigated using those most important of ensemble skills – listening and responding to one another.
A perky sextet arrangement of Gershwin's I Got Rhythm furnished an encore for a very appreciative audience. I feel sure that we will be hearing a great deal more from these impressive, expressive young players: http://quintetzambra.com/
Alan Coady
Sunday 27 March 2011, 7.30pm
VARDANYAN QUARTET with Sophie Warwick, piano
Haydn: String Quartet in D major, op.64 no.5, "The Lark"
Grieg: String Quartet in g minor, op.27
Schumann: Piano Quintet in E flat major, op. 44
With only Nikolai Demidenko's Gala Recital on Sunday 10th April remaining, the recital by the Vardanyan Quartet marked the end of Haddington Concert Society's 2010/11 Music Close Up season. The only single-gender ensemble I've seen in two seasons of concerts, the quartet opened with Haydn's String Quartet in D Major, Op. 64 No. 5 “The Lark.” As the title suggests, soaring melody characterised the opening movement, casting the first violin as much in the role of soloist as ensemble member. The light touch of this movement was continued throughout the Adagio and Minuet and, only in the closing Vivace, was the elegance typical of Haydn replaced by more furious counterpoint, driving The Lark towards its conclusion with Earthbound panache.
It felt like a nice touch of programming that the change of gear in the Haydn finale pointed the way to the the more full sound of Grieg's Quartet in G Minor, Op. 27. As one might expect of a quartet written 88 years after the Haydn, the harmonic language was much more dense and romantic. However, the sense of increased substance was as much to do with overall length. Each movement containing a slow introduction followed by more animated material, the piece felt more like eight movements than the traditional four. The excellent programme notes touched upon Grieg's determination to shake off the mantle of miniaturist by mastering larger forms. This struggle revealed itself in the sectionalised nature of some of the writing. However, the melodic, rhythmic and harmonic passion of the piece would incline any listener to forgive Grieg any battle fatigue in the war of organic versus flat-pack. More than anything, this piece, close on the heels of the Haydn, allowed us to experience the massive stylistic and expressive range of this impressive, young quartet.
The sole work in the second half, Schumann's Piano Quintet in Eb, Op. 44, was outstandingly performed. The addition of the excellent Sophie Warwick, on the Society's Bösendorfer grand piano, seemed to turn the quartet into a small orchestra. Obviously an excellent pianist from within the first few seconds of the opening movement, she is also a very sensitive and expressive chamber musician, switching effortlessly between the roles of soloist, accompanist and ensemble member. I felt the already impressive cohesion of the quartet to reach new heights in this setting. The reaction of the audience, and the remarks of those to whom I spoke after the concert, suggested that I wasn't alone in this impression.
The Haddington Concert Society has an impressive track record of promoting young musicians. In an age when the relevance of classical music is regularly challenged, it was especially moving to hear top class young musicians resonate across the ages with Schumann, who penned this masterpiece at the relatively young age of 32. I look forward to following the fortunes of these excellent musicians.
Alan Coady
Sunday 10 April 2011, 7.30pm
GALA PIANO RECITAL • Nikolai Demidenko
Beethoven: Sonata in C minor (‘Pathétique’), op.13 · Sonata in C-sharp minor (‘Moonlight’), op.27 no.2 • Chopin: Polonaise-fantasie, op.61 · Impromptu in F-sharp major, op.36 · Barcarolle in F-sharp major, op.60 • Liszt: Ballade no.1, in D-flat major · Hungarian Rhapsody no.13, in A minor · Concert Paraphrase on Verdi’s ‘Rigoletto’
Close on the heels of this season of Music Up Close concerts, Nikolai Demidenko delighted a packed Haddington Town House with a programme of Beethoven, Chopin and Liszt.
The programme opened with two much loved Beethoven works: Piano Sonata in C minor, 'Pathétique' Op. 13 and Piano Sonata in C# minor, 'Moonlight' Op. 27 No. 2. The beginning of the Pathétique features as many Beethovenian ear-grabbing elements as one could wish for in an opening item: instant tension; gravitas - his personal key of Cm; frequent pauses, making even those who know the piece intimately wonder what is coming next. Lest we misunderstand the emotional intent of the piece, it might be worth noting that the term pathétique implies 'appealing to the feelings' as opposed simply to depicting the downtrodden. The power and determination of the Allegro movements suggests the very opposite and this was projected very convincingly in the playing. Although the term 'moonlight' wasn't Beethoven's, its ambiguous associations seem to align well with the ambivalent harmony in the opening Adagio sostenuto. Demidenko's handling of the unsettled passages of diminished chords, with their unpredictable outcomes, seemed to resonate with uncertain times – Beethoven's and ours. The airy lightness of the following Allegretto was a welcome tonic before the more edgy and magnificently played Presto agitato brought about resounding applause.
Elegant, economic programming allowed the three Chopin pieces, to highlight his command of four genres. The first and most extensive of these, Polonaise-fantaisie in A flat major, Op. 61, mirrored the opening of the Pathétique in its alternation of rhythmic and arrhythmic. Through adventurous harmony and formal innovation, it transformed the aristocratic origins of the Polonaise into something much more urgent and alive. I felt that Demidenko got right to the heart of this. The lyrically wistful Impromptu No. 2 in F# minor, Op. 36 - beautifully rendered - led us into the Barcarolle in F# major, Op. 60, in which Demidenko beautifully illustrated yet another dimension of this ambassador of the piano.
Chopin, a reluctant performer, was outlived by his altogether more rock and roll contemporary Franz Liszt to the tune of 36 years. In Ballade No. 1 in D flat major, Demidenko showed us the more reflective side of Liszt's nature. The Hungarian Rhapsody, for piano, No. 13 in A minor – whose closing dance-like, virtuosic fireworks elicited many spontaneous cheers from audience – was an altogether more flamboyant affair. Employing improvisatory passages built on the Hungarian gypsy scale along with folk melodies, this was a truly exotic work, performed with great flair. The closing programmed work, Concert Paraphrase on Verdi's 'Rigolletto' was as dramatic as one could hope an opera-inspired item to be. Relying on extreme textural variation, which only a virtuoso could survive, this was a wonderful closing item and brought an eruption of applause from a very appreciative audience.
Demidenko graced the audience with two encores: Chopin's reflective Nocturne in C# minor, Op. 27 No. 1 and a brisk, harmonically impish Sonata by Scarlatti, bringing down the curtain on a wonderful season of concerts.
Alan Coady
