Italian Sunshine:Themes and variations

9 May 2018: Forum Theatre, Malvern Theatres

• Gioachino Rossini – Overture, ‘Italian Girl in Algiers’
• Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart – Piano Concerto no21 in C major, K467
• Felix Mendelssohn – Symphony no4 ‘Italian’ in A major, op90

Sitting down to write this on the first steadfastly sunny day of Spring, just over a month ago, the blue sky seen through my window – punctuated with only the occasional faint ellipsis of cloud – proved too much of a temptation: and I ventured outside, leaving my labour behind. There, I soon discovered that Winter was still making itself all too present: with its icy winds nibbling at my face and fingers, and the sodden turf beneath my feet oozing with the evidence of March’s heavy downpours. The sap was rising, though (even if the mercury wasn’t): the hellebores, daffodils and hyacinths were in full flower; our oak tree laden with buds; the jackdaws cautiously collecting its discarded twigs to reinforce their distant nests; the blackbirds, robins and finches singing heartily. The only music which came to my mind, though, was Vaughan Williams’ Sinfonia antartica.

Back at my desk, I heard the central heating – the thermostat having been tickled by those brumal breezes – clear its lungs, and creak into action (like myself) once more. What was needed, of course – to truly fulfil the new season’s potential (and to thaw out my nose) – was such warmth. Not artificially generated though; but that which naturally coexists with the azure above and below the Mediterranean horizon; that which is embedded in that region’s winds – the zephyr, sirocco, and fittingly-styled maestro – that which bursts forth from tonight’s balmy programme!

Thus we have a concert not only of “sunshine” (Italian, certainly; but with a gentle touch of the Viennese, by way of Sweden) – but also wit (combined with subtle feminism); beauty (paired with virtuosity); and radiant joy (contrasted with brief stateliness). Oh, and youth! (Although how many concerts have you been to where Mozart is the senior composer – at the grand old age of twenty-nine?!)

As Mendelssohn (twenty-four, when tonight’s symphony was first performed) once wrote:

This is Italy! And now has begun what I have always thought… to be the supreme joy in life. And I am loving it. Today was so rich that now, in the evening, I must collect myself a little….

Even if the weather outside is frightful, I guarantee you will leave the theatre fully prepared for its onslaught: with a smile on your face; a tune (or two) on your lips; and warm sunlight in your heart.

Jennifer Pike plays Tchaikovsky:Themes and variations

12 March 2018: Forum Theatre, Malvern Theatres

• Sergei Prokofiev – Symphony no1 ‘Classical’ in D major, op25
• Franz Schubert – Symphony no3 in D major, D200
• Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky – Violin Concerto in D major, op35

Tonight’s concert begins and ends with bright, golden fireworks… – or yellow ones, at least: Russian composers Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov (1844-1908) and Alexander Scriabin (1872-1915) both agreeing (for once) that this was the characteristic colour, for them, of the key of D major. In his influential work of 1785, Ideas Towards an Aesthetic of Music, Christian Schubart (1739-1791) – summarizing the thoughts of many earlier musicians – described it as “The key of triumph, of Hallelujahs, of war-cries, of victory”; adding that “Thus, the inviting symphonies, the marches, holiday songs and heaven-rejoicing choruses are set in this key”. We are therefore in for an enjoyable evening of what philosopher (and composer) Jean-Jacques Rousseau (1712-1778) called “gaiety or brilliance”: as not only do our wonderful first and last works start and finish in this flaxen key, but so does our enthralling central one!

Not that this means we are in for an evening of invariability: if anything, the music programmed tonight demonstrates just how spectacularly disparate orchestral ‘classical’ music can be. For example: a comparison of the two “inviting symphonies”, both fashioned to long-standing formal rules – particularly as regards structure – reveals many more differences than similarities. They both just happen to open and close with the same chord. (Although it then takes Prokofiev a mere eleven bars to change key completely: to the “innocent, simple, naïve” C major!) After all, the key which each revolves around, is only a starting-point: all it does is unlock the musical doorway through which we, and the players, ‘visit’ each composition.

As for Tchaikovsky’s miraculous work: the key of D major is a favourite one for violin concertos – think of Mozart’s second and fourth; of Beethoven’s, and of Brahms (also written in 1878); and even of Prokofiev’s first… – as the instrument’s open strings are particularly resonant in this key. (As, of course, are the orchestra’s! Indeed, the last chord we will hear tonight uses this characteristic to full effect: as the strings triple- or quadruple-stop – that is, play three, or all four strings, simultaneously – and, in this case, fortissimo…!)

You might think from the descriptors above that an evening packed full of what scholar Albert Lavignac (1846-1916) dubbed “joyful, brilliant, alert” D major might be too much of a good thing. I don’t believe it is; and I hope, at the end of the evening, as you call Jennifer back to the stage once more, that you won’t either!

John Lill plays Beethoven:Themes and variations

19 January 2018: Forum Theatre, Malvern Theatres

• Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart – Overture ‘Don Giovanni’, K527
• Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart – Symphony no41 ‘Jupiter’ in C major, K551
• Ludwig van Beethoven – Piano Concerto no3 in C minor, op37

This evening’s concert features – arguably – two of the greatest composers who ever lived: both with major works composed hastily during periods of significant trial and tribulation. Firstly, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart – here in financial straits, after the failure of his latest opera; and possibly on the verge of depression – three years before his death and his final great outpourings. And then Ludwig van Beethoven, as he began to break free of his great idol’s influence to find his own voice: despite struggling to come to terms with the onset of deafness – especially the concomitant tinnitus.

Don Giovanni had been hailed a palpable hit at its first performance in Prague, in October 1787; but, just over six months later, in Vienna, a revised version met with failure. Facing this setback head-on, Mozart immediately began composing his three final, miraculous, symphonies: managing somehow to complete them in successive summer months.

The last of these – our second work, tonight – even in the light of its two remarkable symphonic companions, K543 and K550 – is utterly astonishing. It simply does not matter whether you consider ‘Jupiter’ the greatest symphony ever written (as I do) – or merely(!) the greatest symphony of one of the “greatest composers who ever lived” – it will always stand as an imposing, sunlit monument to the man and the genre. (Sadly, it seems unlikely that it was ever performed in Mozart’s lifetime.)

It is difficult not to consider Don Giovanni his greatest opera, as well (although his later “great outpouring”, Die Zauberflöte, K620 – certainly more successful in his lifetime; and more frequently performed, today – must also be a contender). The overture is rumoured to have been composed on the day of its first performance (29 October 1787). However, Mozart records the completion of the opera as the day before! Whatever the case, as with the symphony, there are absolutely no audible signs of such alacrity.

Only music from the pen of a composer of Beethoven’s stature could succeed such masterpieces: with a work also premiered in Vienna (in April 1803, alongside his first two symphonies) – however, yet again, to mixed reviews. This time, though, the score had not even been finalized: the composer, as soloist, playing reportedly from “nothing but empty pages [with] a few Egyptian hieroglyphs… scribbled down to serve as clues”!

Jennifer Pike plays Mozart:Themes and variations

16 May 2017: Forum Theatre, Malvern Theatres

• Michael Haydn – Symphony no25 ‘Mozart’s 37th’ in G major, MH334
• Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart – Violin Concerto no3 ‘Strassburg’ in G major, K216
• Franz Schubert – Symphony no5 in B-flat major, D485

Three months before he composed the symphony which closes this concert, nineteen-year-old Franz Peter Schubert wrote in his diary: “O Mozart! immortal Mozart! what countless impressions of a brighter, better life hast thou stamped up our souls!” – and it comes as no surprise, therefore, that the ensuing work owes a major debt to his idol (particularly his 40th Symphony).

In some ways, all three of today’s works are Mozartian – either by attachment (or attribution), authorship, or afflation (or such divine inspiration as Schubert would perhaps claim). In fact, until 1907, Michael Haydn’s vibrant 25th, which opens proceedings, was believed to be Mozart’s 37th (K444) – although it is difficult to accept, upon hearing it, that anyone could have really considered it the sequel to the miraculous Linz Symphony (K425): written – in four days – in late 1783. Despite it being composed in the same year, it is more representative of a previous era: when young Wolfgang was still striving to find his own voice. Having said that, today’s violin concerto was composed eight years earlier – when Mozart, like Schubert, was only nineteen – and yet his distinct, rapidly-burgeoning genius really shines through.

There is little doubt that Mozart thought a great deal of the older composer; and they were indeed good friends – influence therefore flowing in both directions. So, when Mozart was commissioned to write his great Requiem, it is likely that he used Michael Haydn’s C minor mass (MH155) as a model. (Coincidentally, Haydn wrote forty-one symphonies – his last being composed one year after Mozart’s stupendous Jupiter Symphony.)

Sadly, we hear very little of the younger Haydn’s music nowadays. It is his big brother, Franz Joseph, we look to as Mozart’s mentor; and Mozart’s influence we hear propelling later composers. It is well-known that Tchaikovsky idolized him – his Rococo Variations the most direct tribute – and Ravel stated that he was similarly inspired when composing the Adagio assai of his G major piano concerto.

No-one else, though, has ever quite recaptured that melodic ease, or fleetness of composition (although Schubert comes exceeding close). As Ravel said of his Mozartian theme: “That flowing phrase! How I worked over it bar by bar! It nearly killed me!” However, Brahms expresses it best, in a letter to Clara Schumann: “But how happy is the man who, like Mozart…, arrives at a pub in the evening and writes new music. Creating is simply his life, but he does what he wants. What a man.”

Emma Johnson plays Mozart:Themes and variations

13 April 2017: Forum Theatre, Malvern Theatres

• Joseph Haydn – Concerto for Two Flutes in C Major, Hob.VIIh:1
• Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart – Clarinet Concerto in A major, K622
• Christoph Willibald Gluck – Dance of the Blessed Spirits
• Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart – Symphony no40 in G minor, K550

Tonight’s concert should probably be dedicated to Calliope, the Muse of epic poetry: who not only inspired Homer’s Odyssey and Virgil’s Aeneid – but whose name means ‘beautiful voiced’.

Moreover, there is a keyboard instrument called a calliope: which features a set of pipes usually powered by steam; and which is not that far removed from the lira organizzata – a fascinating Italian gizmo that is half hurdy-gurdy, half chamber organ. This ‘organ-ized lyre’ was the favourite instrument of King Ferdinand IV of Naples: who was one of the original soloists (along with his teacher) in tonight’s Concerto for Two Flutes – originally, the first of Haydn’s Concertos for Two Lire Organizzate – pieces which work equally well when played not only on flutes, but also oboes and recorders.

Furthermore, the “beautiful voices” of solo woodwind are at the heart of three of this concert’s works – an extremely unusual occurrence indeed: seeing that, as Emma Johnson recently pointed out, when I interviewed her, “The solo repertoire for violin and for piano is far larger than that of any of the woodwind instruments.”

And, finally, it is Calliope’s son Orpheus (or Orfeo) – who the goddess “taught verses for singing” – and his attempt to rescue his wife Eurydice (Euridice) from the Underworld – that inspired the opera from which our third work is taken: Gluck’s ravishing Dance of the Blessed Spirits (which, in placing Elysium, the world of the blessed, within the Underworld, also follows strongly in the Homeric tradition).

Overall, though, it is melody which unites these four late 18th Century works: built, as they are, around some of the most beautiful and memorable tunes ever written. My personal favourite is that which gently opens the Adagio of Mozart’s Clarinet Concerto: which Emma described as “one of those examples of pure beauty in art” – one which I find incredibly moving. She confirmed that even for her, as soloist, “it is an emotional experience to play… and if the performer doesn’t feel that, then neither will the audience…. Like an actor,” she added, “you have to learn to manipulate your emotions so they express the work of art you are performing.”

I will leave the last word to Irving Berlin, though: who – with Mozart’s fireworks still ringing in your ears, as you head safely homewards… – probably expresses that enduring property of the greatest tunes better than anyone else: “The song is ended But the melody lingers on.”

The greatest and most satisfying manifestations of human expression…

On Thursday, 13 April 2017, “internationally acclaimed clarinettist, recitalist, chamber musician, recording artist and lecturer” Emma Johnson will be joining OOTS for an evening of sublime 18th century music in the Forum Theatre, Malvern. Although in the middle of a busy concert schedule, Emma was kind enough to carry out the following interview, via email.

There don’t appear to be many famous classical clarinettists in the world (indeed, at any one point in time). Is this because of the lack of mainstream repertoire – especially, say, compared to that for the piano or violin?
The solo repertoire for violin and for piano is far larger than that of any of the woodwind instruments, and that is why the clarinet is usually considered an orchestral instrument. When you are nine years old and picking an instrument to play, you don’t know these things. But once it became clear I wanted to be a musician, it was naturally assumed I would try to play in an orchestra.
     However, I gradually discovered that the solo clarinet repertoire is richer than people realize: spanning from Mozart, Weber, Brahms and Schumann, to Finzi, Poulenc, Copland and many modernists; as well as playing a pivotal role in jazz. There is, in fact, ample material for a clarinet soloist; and I have expanded the repertoire, too: by making arrangements and transcriptions, and commissioning new pieces.
     In addition, winning BBC Young Musician at the age of 17 allowed me to think differently, and to develop my clarinet playing so that it had the variety and range of a solo recitalist. Because of the opportunities the competition opened up to play solo, it enabled me to realize a vision I had of how a solo clarinettist could be.

Guy Johnston plays Haydn:Themes and variations

23 February 2017: Forum Theatre, Malvern Theatres

• Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart – Sinfonia Concertante for Four Winds in E-flat major, K297b
• Joseph Haydn – Concerto No.2 in D Major for cello and orchestra, Hob.VIIB:2
• Joseph Haydn – Symphony no59 ‘Feuer’ in A major, Hob.I:59

My dictionary tells me that the simple word ‘fire’ embraces many more meanings than I had rashly assumed: from “the heat and light of burning” through “ardour” and “passion” to “spirited vigour or animation” – and I think those properties can be found in all three of tonight’s works: warming the chill February air equally; but in diverse ways. The compositions are also linked by their instrumentation: the addition of oboes and horns to OOTS’ core strings reinforcing their quintessential translucent, intimate chamber feel – yet producing extended and contrasting variations in both texture and effect.

All written within a period of fifteen years, it would be easy to lump the three pieces in with the contemporary Sturm und Drang movement, as well. However, Mozart’s Sinfonia Concertante, which begins the concert, is lit mainly by the qualities of ardour and passion – especially in its first two movements. Its finale, though, is full of quasi-Haydnesque wit; as well as a great deal of spirited vigour and animation.

The concerto builds on this fervour. Although technically challenging – the fiery, almost explosive, finger-work is as visual a delight as it is an aural one… – Haydn’s writing exploits the timbre of the cello to the full (as well as its range and volume): making it sing. I thus believe it to be one of the greatest works ever composed for the instrument. That it demonstrated (and extended) its expansive capabilities so early on in its history, is, to me, a manifestation of the great composer’s continual willingness to acquire skill and knowledge, to experiment, to stretch… – indeed, a manifestation of his genius.

It differs from his 59th Symphony in many ways – time and experience encouraging complexity, perhaps… – and yet this earlier work still demonstrates Haydn’s lifelong propensity to push at boundaries; as well as his ability to quickly move not only from the ‘stormy’ to the ‘driven’, but the sublime to the, er, humorous (and back again)! In some ways – especially with its opening Presto – it does encapsulate the artistic trend which pivoted around it. And yet, in its finale, the composer – in stamping his mark on the work – almost produces its antithesis: realizing one last definition of its slightly circuitous sobriquet – “refraction of light in a gemstone”. It truly sparkles!

PREVIEW: Prestigious Double Concerto Series with Tamsin Waley-Cohen – Forum Theatre, Malvern (Wednesday, 25 May 2016, at 19:45)

Selected by Birmingham’s Town Hall Symphony Hall as the British nomination for the prestigious European Concert Hall Organisation’s Rising Stars programme in the 2016/17 season, Tamsin has been described by The Times as a violinist “who held us rapt in daring and undaunted performances” and by The Guardian as a performer of “fearless intensity”.

– Orchestra of the Swan: Prestigious Double Concerto Series with Tamsin Waley-Cohen

Certainly not just once in a lifetime – but, nonetheless, remarkably infrequently – an artist crosses your path who completely redefines your definition of the possible. Such occurrences, therefore, rise easily to the surface of your mind, unbidden; and, in my case, can be counted on the fingers of one hand:

• Maurizio Pollini playing Schoenberg’s Five Piano Pieces as an encore at the Edinburgh Festival…. These pieces suddenly emerged, butterfly-like, from their atonal cocoon, as the most beautiful ever written. (I was on the front row, trying not to cry. Having just learned to play them – yet not in any way like this… – it felt like the most personal of messages.)
• My much-missed friend, Michael Rippon, shredding every sinew in his body (and mine) – stretching his Rembrandt-like features, and remarkably sonorous voice, to the limits (and possibly beyond) – projecting (the also much-missed) Maxwell Davies’ Eight Songs for a Mad King with such savage, yet empathetic intensity, accompanied by the composer’s own group, The Fires of London. I had not known that music could be made to do this: to transcend the bounds of theatre and emotional evisceration. Never before or since has such a work hurt so much… – and yet delighted me with its commitment and originality.
• Marin Alsop unleashing the full powers of the Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra in Elgar’s Second Symphony. I was sat behind the brass and percussion. The balance was therefore so very wrong. But, finally, finally, I knew that this was how this greatest of symphonies must be performed. (That I got a hug from Alsop, subsequently, for weeping from first bar to last, only reinforces the memory, of course. But she is the only conductor I know – apart from David – who personally thanks every single member of the orchestra, afterwards: wandering the stage with a smile and that sincere personal touch.)
• Finally, of course, I have to mention David again… – but with the Cheltenham Symphony Orchestra – digging hard and deep into the very heart of Shostakovich’s Fifth Symphony…