Debussy and Rodrigo:Themes and variations

17 April 2018: Stratford ArtsHouse
18 April 2018: Town Hall, Birmingham

• Claude Debussy – Children’s Corner, L.113
• Joaquín Rodrigo – Concierto de Aranjuez
• Claude Debussy – Petite Suite, L.65
• Georges Bizet – Symphony in C

Today’s concert features two orchestral arrangements, that, on hearing – like Grieg’s Holberg Suite, played earlier in the season – readily draw a very effective instrumental veil over their pianistic origins. As I wrote last November: “the effects [Grieg] conjures make it difficult to believe that this was originally composed for piano…! So reliant is the suite on the startling textures only strings can produce, that it feels utterly original.”

The difference, here, is that Debussy’s works were arranged by other musicians: each of whom, though, knew the composer, and his music, exceeding well. They therefore both succeed in exploring and exploiting the instrumental inferences the original compositions contain, whilst remaining sensitive to their quintessence: bringing further life and force to the stories held within. For instance, the mystical pipes and horns of the Petite Suite’s ‘Menuet’ are given wistful flesh by Henri Büsser, with his inspired utilization of the cor anglais; whilst ‘The little shepherd’ of Children’s Corner is blessed, by André Caplet, with his own sonorous flute (in the shape of an oboe…).

Büsser, by the way, was a quite remarkable man: living to the age of 101. In an interview given on his 100th birthday, in 1972, he recounted how he had approached his friend for permission to transcribe Petite Suite – “already having the orchestration in my head”. “Oh!” replied the composer, “you can’t know the joy you bring me; with my whole heart I authorize you to do this!” Indeed, Debussy conducted today’s arrangement many times: it being such a perfect example of the arranger’s skilful art.

Coincidentally, Petite Suite – like Rodrigo’s guitar concerto, which precedes it today – has also been arranged for brass band: in fact for the very same ensemble (the astounding Grimethorpe Colliery Band) that appears in the film Brassed Off – and that so helped contribute to its well-deserved fame. No less valid, the result is proof that fresh truth and beauty can frequently be found when music is dressed in such different, but befitting, clothes.

In writing my programme notes for Debussy’s ravishing music, I have therefore listened to (and sometimes played through passages from) the original pieces, before absorbing myself in the orchestral arrangements: hoping to discover and describe (if not always explain) some of the magic that has been worked upon them.

Peter Donohoe plays Shostakovich:Themes and variations

13 March 2018: Stratford ArtsHouse
14 March 2018: Town Hall, Birmingham

• Sergei Prokofiev – Symphony no1 ‘Classical’ in D major, op25
• Dmitri Shostakovich – Piano Concerto no2 in F major, op102
• Franz Schubert – Symphony no3 in D major, D200

In the visual arts, according to the Tate, “Neoclassicism was a particularly pure form of classicism that emerged from about 1750”; whilst the original ‘classicism’ was that which “made reference to ancient Greek or Roman style”. Confusingly, though, ‘classical’ music (see The Oxford Dictionary of Music, for example) is generally labelled as materializing around the same time (1750) – following the Baroque, and preceding the Romantic; “covering the development of the symphony and concerto” – with ‘neoclassical’ music then being produced between 1920 and 1950.

Settling on such precise dates is, of course, prone to spark dispute; and I, for one, would claim that Grieg’s spectacular Holberg Suite – from 1884; and performed by OOTS in November’s concert – is definitely neoclassical: although not yet, as such an outlier, part of any definite trend. Today’s first work – formally christened by its composer as ‘Classical’ – was also produced outside those dates (during 1916-1917): and yet surely sets the standard for all that followed. (Unlike Stravinsky, though, who would return to earlier melodies and musical models frequently throughout his life, Prokofiev described this symphony’s composition as merely a “passing phase”!)

Whilst we all know, albeit vaguely, what classical music sounds like (and therefore, by extrapolation, its neoclassical offspring, as well); and recognize it when we hear it; it is harder to say exactly what it is. As with last month’s programme, I shall resort to quoting Michael Kennedy – as his pithy summary is surely as good as it gets!

Music of an orderly nature, with qualities of clarity and balance, and emphasizing formal beauty rather than emotional expression (which is not to say that emotion is lacking); music generally regarded as having permanent rather than ephemeral value.

Fortunately for us, ending as it does with Schubert’s Third Symphony, this concert provides us with the opportunity to compare structurally similar works from both the classical and neoclassical eras, and therefore draw our own conclusions. That these astonishing compositions are both in the same brilliant key of D major may also be to our advantage (although neither one remains in that key for very long). How we categorize Shostakovich’s exuberant concerto, which separates them, I do not know. It is so startlingly original – and so unlike most of his previous, Stalin-shadowed output – that it probably belongs in a class all of its own!

Roderick Williams and English Song:Themes and variations

13 February 2018: Stratford ArtsHouse
14 February 2018: Town Hall, Birmingham
6 April 2018: Worcester Cathedral

• Ralph Vaughan Williams – Five Variants of ‘Dives and Lazarus’
• Ralph Vaughan Williams – Five Mystical Songs
• Gerald Finzi – Let Us Garlands Bring, op18
• Gerald Finzi – Romance for String Orchestra, op11
• John Ireland – A Downland Suite

Ralph Vaughan Williams first encountered the folk-song Dives and Lazarus in 1893, when he was twenty-one; and he later said that “I had the sense of recognition – here’s something which I have known all my life, only I didn’t know it!” Michael Kennedy characterized the tune as emanating “from the soil of England”; and one of the end results (RVW was quite addicted to using it), which opens today’s concert, sounds (nearly) as natural as the composer breathing.

But why does this music feel ‘English’? What makes it so? Is it just that we have become accustomed to its ‘shape’, its style; or is there truly an identifiable vernacular? (In other words: would we sense, somehow, that this concert’s musical origins were all so ‘local’, if we had not seen the programme and its title; nor heard these composers before?)

John Ireland – whose A Downland Suite completes the programme – said that “folk-song influenced Vaughan Williams, but I have been more influenced by plainsong”: despite Charles Stanford (one of the originators, with Parry, of the broad style which so influenced the young Elgar) accusing him of sounding “all Brahms and water”! And yet both composers – as well as sharing Stanford as a teacher (although RVW went on to study with Ravel) – share a certain audible je ne sais quoi – or at least my (admittedly capacious) taste easily encompasses both (as well as Holst, Finzi, and Walton; Britten, Tippett, and Maxwell Davies). They also move me in a way that is at odds with the emotions provoked by, say, Mozart, or Messiaen; they speak to a different part of my heart (although I must emphasize that there is no room in there for nationalism of any political piquancy).

I wonder, were I not born of “this sceptred isle”, if they would still affect me like this. Elgar said (to Ireland), referencing The Dream of Gerontius and Richard Strauss, that “No-one in this country took any notice of my music until a German told them it was good”. In other words: I really do not have answers (certainly not simple ones) to the questions I posed above; I simply do not know! But maybe you will come to a different conclusion: once impressed by five outstanding examples of twentieth-century English music.

New York comes to Stratford:Themes and variations

5 December 2017: Stratford ArtsHouse

• Aaron Copland – Music for Movies
• Pedro H da Silva – Portuguese Guitar Concerto [world premiere]
• Lucía Caruso – ‘Clouds’, for piano and orchestra
• Aaron Copland – Music for the Theatre

Both George Gershwin and Aaron Copland were born in Brooklyn, New York: Gershwin in September 1898; Copland in November 1900. Having both played the piano from an early age, both went on to study composition with Rubin Goldmark – who had once been a pupil of Antonín Dvořák. However, whilst Gershwin remained in America (producing, among other things, a string of successful musicals), in 1920 Copland moved to France, to study with Nadia Boulanger. While there, he was introduced to many European composers – including Igor Stravinsky – and began to realize that, whereas he could easily identify music as, say, ‘French’, or ‘Russian’, there was no immediately recognizable ‘American’ style.

He therefore set out to deliberately create such a language (and “purge” his music of its European influences). Thus, when he returned to the US in 1924 (the year of Rhapsody in Blue), he looked to jazz as a key ingredient. It certainly permeates (if not dominates) this concert’s Music for the Theatre (strangely, Copland preferred the British spelling) – and is the first piece to sound so obviously ‘by Copland’ (as we now know him). “I was anxious to write a work that would immediately be recognized as American in character,” he later recollected. While no particular dramatic device was involved, Copland said that he chose the title because “the music seemed to suggest a certain theatrical atmosphere”. Labelled a “suite in five parts for small orchestra” (not to mention an expansive percussion section!), it received its first performance by the Boston Symphony Orchestra on 20 November 1925.

But there is a great deal more to Copland’s music than ‘all that jazz’. Indeed, that genre’s influence dissipated soon afterwards; and other constituents – especially those derived from American ‘folk’ and ‘popular’ music – started to come to the fore. These can clearly be heard in later masterpieces such as Rodeo, Billy the Kid, and Appalachian Spring – music which is readily identifiable as both Copland’s, and, therefore, as ‘American’.

Although Stateside ‘classical’ music has also moved on – think of John Adams or Milton Babbitt – it could be suggested that Copland was, perhaps, too successful in propagating his national idiom. Nearly a century later, and so many film scores still owe him their existence. Thankfully, his own Music for Movies – which opens this concert – stands head and shoulders above those who try to mimic his matchless style.

Tamsin Waley-Cohen plays Mozart:Themes and variations

21 November 2017: Stratford ArtsHouse
22 November 2017: Town Hall, Birmingham

• Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart – Symphony no15 in G major, K124
• Edvard Grieg – Holberg Suite, op40
• Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart – Violin Concerto no4 in D major, K218
• Joseph Haydn – Symphony no22 ‘The Philosopher’ in E-flat major, Hob.I:22

In different ways, all three of today’s composers (and all four of today’s works) can be seen as reflecting on their compositional inheritance – or even looking back at it deliberately, with unfeigned affection – especially in the use of earlier dance-forms. In doing so, they each not only shine a new light on such musical history and tradition, but also breathe fresh energy into its utilization.

Fifteen, when he wrote his Fifteenth Symphony, and only eighteen or nineteen when he wrote his five violin concertos, Mozart’s style, here, is not yet fully mature, of course: and he is therefore still audibly influenced by that of his predecessors and elders – including his father, Leopold; as well as JC Bach and Michael Haydn. Nevertheless, the obvious musical growth demonstrated by this concert’s two compositions is quite astounding. And it is in the later work’s final movement – the Violin Concerto’s explicitly French-style Rondeau (Italian: rondó; ‘round’) – that Mozart’s retrospection takes its most concrete form. (As with its predecessor, K216, though, this movement stops and starts, and veers off in all sorts of ‘modern’ and ‘humorous’ directions!)

Additionally, until supplanted by the Beethovenian scherzo (Italian for ‘jest’ or ‘joke’), the minuet (Italian: minuetto; German: Menuett; French: menuet) was a recognizable, characteristic part of most classical symphonies: and thus features in both of today’s, along with its typical, central trio (so-called because, initially, this was in three-part harmony: as with the minor-key sections of sixteenth-century masses). Originally a rustic French dance, the menuetto (a neologism frequently used by both Mozart and Beethoven) is always in triple time – its epithet deriving from its distinctive dainty step: that is, from the French menu, for ‘small’.

As well as including such a Menuet e Trio, the overall structure of Haydn’s symphony also references the past: its slow-fast-slow-fast sequence of movements being more typical of the Baroque-era (roughly 1600 to 1750) sonata da chiesa (‘church sonata’). Its instrumentation, though, is both unique and groundbreaking.

However, it is in Grieg’s Holberg Suite that we find bygone styles evoked most knowingly – the deliberate call to earlier forms and styles (as with Warlock’s Capriol Suite and Prokofiev’s Classical Symphony) coloured with, and seen from, a more distant remove; as well as treated with a more modern discernment. Proof indeed that looking back is no hindrance to looking – and moving – forward.

Viola and double-bass take centre stage!Themes and variations

20 June 2017: Stratford ArtsHouse

• Carl Ditters von Dittersdorf – Sinfonia Concertante for Double-Bass and Viola in D major, Kr.127
• Julian Philips – Ballades Concertantes [world premiere]
• Joseph Haydn – Symphony no49 ‘La Passione’ in F minor, Hob.I:49

Most – if not all – concertos are composed with specific performers in mind. Sometimes, they are written to showcase the composer’s own skills (think Mozart, Liszt, Rachmaninoff, etc.). Many times, they are written for a restricted number of instruments – particularly, it seems, violin and piano.

At the time of writing, IMSLP – the International Music Score Library Project: “Sharing the world’s public domain music” – holds 119,774 works, by 15,188 composers. Of these, 4,136 are labelled as concertos: 1,081 including ‘violin’ in their title (26.1%); and 471 containing the word ‘piano’ (11.4%). There are nearly as many concertos written for oboe (238) as there are cello (257); but only 117 for my favourite instrument, the bassoon… – and only one (yes, one!) for the glorious cor anglais (a very recent work, by Simon Laumer). Even the tuba has more written for it: with seven!

Tonight’s soloists – Virginia and Stacey – have, respectively 99 (viola) and 27 (double-bass) to choose from. But it is only when you type in ‘Dittersdorf’ or ‘Symphony Concertante’ that tonight’s first ‘double concerto’ is revealed – which, I’m afraid, only goes to show that all the above numbers should be treated (like opinion polls) as reasonably indicative (especially as contemporary composers seem to be much more inventive in their solo works: there already being two concertos listed for ‘electric bass’).

The point I’m trying to make is that such instruments are very rarely brought forward from their places in the orchestra… – and yet, when they are, we realize just how unfair this is: both the viola and double-bass being capable (as you will hear) of sonorous lyricism and striking virtuosity so different from their smaller cousins, the violin and cello. I accept that there are fewer players (certainly fewer solo players) of these instruments; and that surrounding such lower voices with orchestral timbres that do not overpower them may present more complex challenges… – although Tchaikovsky, Dvořák and Elgar met these head-on in creating glorious works for cello, of course!

We should therefore be immensely grateful to Carl Ditters von Dittersdorf and to Julian Philips, for creating pieces that, although around 250 years apart, demonstrate what we have been missing. In their extremely different ways, not only do they give us the full range of these wonderful instruments’ capabilities, whilst producing music that captivates; but they demonstrate – as the Dalai Lama said – that “if you listen, you may learn something new”.

An old friend of OOTS…

Whilst writing the programme notes for the last concert to contain a commission written for OOTS’ 21st Anniversary season – Viola and Double-Bass Take Centre Stage! – I had a brief email conversation with composer Julian Philips: who has produced an immensely beautiful work, Ballades Concertantes, for solo viola, double-bass and chamber orchestra, as a companion piece to Carl Ditters von Dittersdorf’s Sinfonia Concertante for Double-Bass and Viola.

The words which follow are all Julian’s; the musical excerpts are the first lines of each of the four Machaut Ballades that inspired him.

Ballades Concertantes developed out of an engagement with two different historical traditions – the late-fourteenth-century Ballade of Guillaume de Machaut, and the later eighteenth-century sinfonia concertante, as developed by Haydn, Mozart or Dittersdorf. Machaut, because my recent opera The Tale of Januarie – based on Chaucer’s The Merchant’s Tale – had engaged with late medieval music; and the music of Machaut – who was the great figure of his day, and very much known to Chaucer – was still in the air. The sinfonia concertante, because David and the orchestra were keen to celebrate their twenty-first anniversary by reviving a form which gives solo spots to individual orchestral players. In this case, the viola and double-bass.

Laura van der Heijden plays Tchaikovsky:Themes and variations

11 April 2017: Stratford ArtsHouse
12 April 2017: Town Hall, Birmingham

• Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart – Eine kleine Nachtmusik, K525
• Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky (edited by W Fitzenhagen) – Variations on a Rococo Theme, op33
• Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart – Symphony no40 in G minor, K550

Why are variations on a theme such a popular art-form – for composers, at least? Elgar famously used them, in his Enigma Variations, to paint portraits of his closest friends. Bach wrote the incomparable Goldberg Variations to assuage insomnia. And some – including Czerny, Brahms and Britten – composed a collection to pay tribute to those that have inspired or tutored them (respectively: Beethoven, Schumann and Bridge – but not exclusively).

The variation is one of the oldest musical forms: even being found within the keyboard works of William Byrd (c1540-1623). Its development is also intimately linked with that of the concerto: from the earliest concerti grossi, through Handel and JC Bach, to Franck’s Variations symphoniques for piano and orchestra – and, of course, this concert’s Rococo Variations.

Its possibilities are inexhaustible. If you require proof: one of the most popular themes used for ‘alteration’ is that of Paganini’s Caprice no24 in A minor for violin. Not only does this prototype itself include eleven variations; but many, many musicians – including Brahms, Lutosławski, and, most notably, Rachmaninoff – have created wonderfully transformative sequences of their own.

Julian Lloyd Webber, our conductor today, has also recorded an album, simply entitled Variations, based on this theme: written for him by his brother, Andrew. I therefore wondered if he might have an answer. Why…?

Because, for a composer, it’s a big challenge: to be able to write a set of variations on one particular theme; and come up with very different ideas. Some of the ideas are so good… – you hear these Paganini variations: the way different composers approach them – it’s fascinating. For instance, Rachmaninoff turning the tune around and making an absolutely beautiful melody – that’s very, very clever! I do think Andrew was quite brave to choose that tune: because so many other famous pieces had come out of it. But he’s never shirked a challenge!

And so I think it works both ways: for the composer to demonstrate his technique, and what he can actually do with imagination and a simple theme; and also for the audience, who get to follow the changes through a theme that they hear many times during a piece of music.

Tchaikovsky, of course, opted to write his own theme. He may claim it as ‘Rococo’; but, in reality, it has more to do with his role model – the man he called his “musical Christ” – Mozart: whose inspirational works also begin and end today’s proceedings.

Weaver of moonbeams…

Ahead of his two concerts – in Stratford-upon-Avon and Birmingham, conducting Orchestra of the Swan with this year’s Associate Artist, cellist Laura van der Heijden – I went to meet Julian Lloyd Webber: now Principal of Birmingham Conservatoire, and steering it through some exciting times as it prepares to move into its purpose-designed new home.

Entering his office in the old building – sadly nearing the end of its productive life, in the centre of the city – one cannot fail to be reminded, though, of his previous career as one of his (and my) generation’s greatest, and most successful, solo cellists: with posters of some of his most memorable achievements scattered throughout the room. Indeed, above his desk – in pride of place, perhaps – he points out a large framed copy of the cover of the CD I am nervously clutching between my fingers: a recording which confirmed his status of hero for me, and for many others. But more of that later: because, as he welcomes me in, and shakes my hand, there could not be a more genial and gracious interviewee. (As I am rapidly learning – as my first year of being OOTS’ Writer-in-Residence comes to a close – the majority of classical musicians are incredibly generous people: open, willing to chat, to treat you as an equal, to spend time with you… – they just happen to be incredibly talented, too – although no mention of this will ever pass their lips.)

Orchestra of the Swan’s 21st Anniversary Concert – The English Genius:Themes and variations

14 March 2017: Stratford ArtsHouse

• Gustav Holst – St Paul’s Suite
• Ralph Vaughan Williams – Fantasia on a Theme by Thomas Tallis
• Ralph Vaughan Williams – Symphony no5 in D major

With the first classical symphonies (as we might recognize them today) emerging from around Lombardy in the 1730s, it seems awfully bad form that the earliest English masterpiece of the genre didn’t arrive until 1908: with Elgar’s magnificent opus 55. To make up for its tardiness, though, that work was performed one hundred times in just over a year – in cities as far apart as Manchester and Saint Petersburg.

And, of course, it wasn’t long before other composers took up the baton. So – even though many pundits repeatedly (and fatuously) declared the form dead (globally) during the 20th Century – suddenly, like buses, whole hosts of English symphonic works arrived together! Names that spring to mind as Elgar’s natural heirs include those born ‘just up the road’ in Northampton – William Alwyn, Malcolm Arnold, and Edmund Rubbra: who wrote twenty-five between them. Down the road was Humphrey Searle – born in Oxford – with five. And then, looking south, towards the village (and glorious hymn-tune) of Down Ampney, in Gloucestershire, there emerged probably the country’s greatest symphonic composer to date: Ralph Vaughan Williams, with his traditional sequence of nine.

It never ceases to amaze me just how distinctive in disposition these creations are – and yet all are instantly identifiable as the man’s own. But the Fifth – which closes this 21st Anniversary Concert – is the one which many claim to be his greatest (and I could not disagree).

Ostensibly romantic and beautiful, it should offer respite from the explicit violence of its predecessor; and yet it overflows with ambiguity: inciting doubt, rather than imparting belief. It could, in its own keep-calm-and-carry-on fashion, be seen as a stereotypically English response to the global destruction enveloping its arrival; and yet its heartfelt desolation lies barely beneath its composer’s not-quite-so-stiff upper lip – so does not take much unearthing. It is thus, I contend, the most ‘mortal’ of his symphonies. Indeed, as their creator once stated: “The principles which govern the composition of music… are not the tricks of the trade or even the mysteries of the craft, they are founded on the very nature of human beings.”

110 years after its prodigious birth, the English symphony endures. A wonderful recent example is Peter Maxwell Davies’ Symphony No.10. And we also have the English Symphony Orchestra’s extensive 21st Century Symphony Project – led by OOTS’ former guest conductor Kenneth Woods – launching in a fortnight. Long may it prevail!

Commissions accomplished…!

As part of OOTS’ 21st Anniversary season, four composers, who have all worked with the orchestra before, were invited to write “companion pieces” to classical ‘concertante’ works – which they would then be premièred alongside – an idea conjured up by orchestra trustee Tim Richards. As David points out, “this gives our principals the opportunity to shine, as well as thanking them for their commitment”; adding that pairing music in this way “gives the orchestra, soloists, audience and composer both context and inspiration”.

Last year’s commissions – Douglas J Cuomo’s Objects in Mirror and Paul Moravec’s Nocturne – were both instant hits. (In fact, I described the Cuomo as “a cracking work: the perfect foil to the Bach that inspired it”; and reported that Moravec’s “left me with a mammoth lump in my throat, and several large somethings in both eyes”.) I am therefore certain that this year’s will follow in their winning footsteps.

Julian Philips’ composition (to be premièred in June) is for viola and double-bass. David commented that “Julian is an old friend of OOTS, and I expect something slightly more ‘traditional’. Because he knows us so well, I’m sure he will want to capitalize on our distinctive string sound.”

¶

Asked about Joanna Lee – whose Blue Blaze – Dance Suite will be performed this month – David explained that “Joanna is relatively young: and OOTS believes in championing emerging talent.” He went on to say: “I have always been struck by her inventiveness and highly individual voice: so her work is likely to be quite challenging for audience and players – fully exploiting the characteristics of the solo instruments – but also very witty and light-hearted!”

Mozart, meet Joanna Lee!Themes and variations

14 February 2017: Stratford ArtsHouse
22 February 2017: Town Hall, Birmingham

• Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart – Overture, ‘Bastien und Bastienne’, K50/46b
• Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart – Sinfonia Concertante for Four Winds in E-flat major, K297b
• Joanna Lee – Blue Blaze – Dance Suite [world premiere]
• Joseph Haydn – Symphony no59 ‘Feuer’ in A major, Hob.I:59

I wonder how many potential tunes there are in the world – already written; or, as Elgar supposed, “in the air… all around us”? Given a set number of notes, there are obviously only, statistically, a finite number of sequences that can be developed. So, isn’t it truly amazing that, when performed – even if ‘recycled’ by other composers: either coincidentally, or in tribute – such melodies are not only recognizable (they strike a chord, if you will), but they also have the power to immediately lead you back to a single source?

For example: catching the opening theme of this concert, played out of context, many people in the audience would, I am sure, instantly call to mind Beethoven’s Eroica – although then wonder who had run off with those two monumental introductory thunderbolts (and why it was played in the wrong key and by the wrong instruments). Or maybe Wagner’s Das Rheingold…? (Although, there, as you might expect, its appearance is more lushly orchestrated.) This ‘fanfare’ – based on a major triad: thus readily playable on a natural (valveless) horn – also appears at the beginning of Brahms’ Second Symphony; and, according to George Grove (he of the musical dictionary), in his violin concerto, too – not to mention the Scherzo of Schubert’s ‘Great’ C major symphony; as well as Beethoven’s very own Hammerklavier sonata.

But hear it: and I’m pretty sure that it will be the latter’s Third Symphony that comes to mind; even though he was born two years after the overture – to singspiel, or comic opera, Bastien und Bastienne – was composed… by twelve-year-old Mozart: which is why all thoughts of Beethoven will quickly fade away. Even at this age, ‘Amadeus’ was displaying signature greatness.

By the way, the opera probably wasn’t performed publicly for another twenty-two years. But it is unlikely that Beethoven was present; or, if he was, that he would intentionally borrow something so pleasantly pastoral to signify ‘the heroic’.

Conceivably, the most amazing upshot, I think, is that this short tune serves both – indeed all – of its purposes extremely well. Because in none of the instances listed does it sound anything other than each composer’s own: perfectly pitched, perfectly scored. Maybe because, to paraphrase two other truly great musicians: “T’ain’t What You Write (It’s the Way That You Write It)”.

Mozart & Moravec:Themes and variations

6 December 2016: Stratford ArtsHouse

• Joseph Haydn – Sinfonia Concertante in B-flat major, Hob.I:105
• Paul Moravec – Nocturne [world premiere]
• Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart – Symphony no41 ‘Jupiter’ in C major, K551

Today’s concert features three outstanding, immensely prolific composers – all at the height of their powers. Joseph Haydn, during the first of his two visits to London: and therefore at the outset of writing his twelve glorious, final symphonies. Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart – albeit in financial straits; and possibly on the verge of depression – three years before his death and his final great outpourings; but rapidly completing his three last stupendous symphonies in successive summer months.

And Paul Moravec? Even after winning the Pulitzer Prize, in 2004, for his spine-tingling Tempest Fantasy – just one of many awards; just one of many astounding works – here is an extremely productive musician, who, it appears, never rests on his laurels, but continues to produce characteristic, emotive music for a wide range of forces: all of which he treats with equal reverence, skill, and love. Fortunately for us, one of his most recent compositions is Nocturne – written to celebrate the orchestra’s 21st Anniversary season as a companion piece to the Sinfonia Concertante which opens the programme.

Using the same soloists as Haydn – with the addition of cor anglais to the oboe part (and with only strings for the main orchestra) – this is a highly imaginative, lyrical piece: engrossing from first note to last. It also exhibits some of the wit that the earlier composer is renowned for – especially in its “Playful, quick” third movement.

But why is Haydn’s Sinfonia Concertante itself not more well-known? Anthony van Hoboken, who catalogued the composer’s works (hence the ‘Hob.’ number attached to each), obviously believed this delightful creation slotted naturally into the ‘Symphonies’ category (Hob.I) – assigning it the number 105 – although, chronologically, it comes between the 96th and 97th. As it contains much of the drama and inventiveness of those works – albeit in a slightly more compact form – I am convinced we, too, should treat it with reverence.

As to the final work, “reverence” – as well as astonishment – is more than due. It simply does not matter whether you consider Mozart’s Jupiter the greatest symphony ever written – 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.

“What harmony is this? My good friends, hark!”An introduction to the music of Paul Moravec…

Marvellous sweet music!

A few weeks ago, I interviewed composer Paul Moravec, by email. My principal aim, as OOTS’ Writer-in-Residence, was to learn more about Nocturne – which will be premièred at the next ArtsHouse concert on 6 December 2016 – and gather enough material from our discussion to produce a programme note. However, until very recently, I hadn’t really known much about his music – or the man. So, in preparation, I spent many, many hours listening to all of the available recordings I could unearth of his music; and reading liner notes, previous appraisals, and previous dialogues.

Bach to the Future:Themes and variations

8 November 2016: Stratford ArtsHouse
9 November 2016: Town Hall, Birmingham

• Johann Sebastian Bach, arranged Steve Martland – Toccata and Fugue in D minor, BWV 565
• Johann Sebastian Bach – Brandenburg Concerto no2 in F major, BWV 1047
• Douglas J Cuomo – Objects In Mirror [world premiere]
• Johann Sebastian Bach – Brandenburg Concerto no3 in G major, BWV 1048
• Igor Stravinsky – Concerto in E-flat for chamber orchestra ‘Dumbarton Oaks’

If Ben Jonson was correct – and the last 400 years should be proof enough – then Shakespeare “was not of an age, but for all time!” And, I believe, musically, the same can (and should) be said of Bach. It seems almost inconceivable, now – considering his enduring popularity and influence – that his compositions were not widely appreciated until Mendelssohn revived the St Matthew Passion in 1829 (100 years after its first performance). Although his ascendance since, of course, has been stratospheric – literally, in the case of the three pieces sent into space with the Voyager probes: one of which is the opening movement of this concert’s second Brandenburg Concerto.

Musicians from all genres therefore continue to utilize Bach’s creations as the basis of – and inspiration for – their own: amongst my personal favourites, Jacques Loussier’s jazzy interpretation of the Goldberg Variations, and Shostakovich’s sublime 24 Preludes and Fugues. And, of course, this concert is itself a perfect demonstration of the great composer’s musical longevity, as well as his abiding relevance.

The opening, thrilling arrangement sets the tone perfectly: a famous keyboard work transformed into fresh fireworks for string orchestra; followed by four sumptuous examples of the concerto grosso – which all demonstrate, in contrasting ways, what pinnacles can be achieved with a few strings, an occasional harpsichord, and dazzlingly different arrays of solo instruments.

Although we may initially think of Corelli, Handel or Vivaldi as the main proponents of this antiphonal form – in which a small group of soloists (the concertino) are ‘accompanied’ by (or alternate with) a larger orchestra (the ripieno): one built upon a continuo of harpsichord and bass instruments – Bach, for me, is its ultimate master: richly expanding its original strings-only remit. His six Brandenburg Concertos are multivariate perfection: demonstrating just how sublime and diverse such concertante works can be – both in style and in orchestral colouring.

It is no wonder, therefore, that this classical form also continues to galvanize: often prompting composers to produce compact masterpieces of their own – a quick glance across the Pond revealing Barber’s stunning Capricorn Concerto, and the striking Stravinsky which ends today’s programme. In using the same forces as the second Brandenburg Concerto – and to such scintillating effect: revelling in the still-coruscating alloys of instrumental juxtaposition, 300 years on – Douglas J Cuomo can certainly also claim his position as their worthy successor.

The leaves bow themselves to the ground…

Next week’s Bach to the Future concerts – at Stratford ArtsHouse and Town Hall, Birmingham – feature the first of four pieces commissioned to celebrate the orchestra’s 21st Anniversary Season: Objects In Mirror, by Douglas J Cuomo – best known (I am told) for the title theme to Sex and the City. Each of the selected composers was invited to write a concertante piece for OOTS principals using the same instrumentation as an existing composition – in this case, Bach’s second Brandenburg Concerto – which will be performed immediately before this new work – thus enabling both audience members and players to compare and contrast the differences and similarities of composers across the ages.

Despite his busy schedule – he has a première of a choral piece in Florida at the same time as this one… – I managed to catch up with Doug, by email, to discuss his new – and (evident from just reading through the score) utterly captivating – work.

PREVIEW: Mozart and Friends with Lucía Caruso

As well as a thrilling set of variations, Folía, for piano, Portuguese guitar, and orchestra – written with her husband, guitarist Pedro H da Silva (above) – Argentine-born pianist and composer Lucía Caruso will be performing Mozart’s intriguing Piano Concerto no.13 in C major (K415) three times with the orchestra this month:

• 19:30, Tuesday, 11 October – at Stratford ArtsHouse;
• 14:30, Wednesday, 12 October – at Town Hall, Birmingham; and
• 19:30, Wednesday, 19 October – at Cheltenham Town Hall.

The inestimable Frances Wilson – otherwise known as ‘The Cross-Eyed Pianist’ – caught up with Lucía ahead of these concerts; and the resulting in-depth and thoughtful interview can be read on her website, as part of her addictive Meet the Artist… series.

Thank you, therefore, to Frances for her hard work; and to Lucía for her beautifully detailed responses.

Mozart and Friends with Lucía Caruso:Themes and variations

11 October 2016: Stratford ArtsHouse
12 October 2016: Town Hall, Birmingham

• Antonio Salieri – Sinfonia in D major ‘Il giorno onomastico’
• Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart – Piano Concerto no13 in C major, K415
• Lucía Caruso and Pedro H da Silva (orchestrated by Pedro H da Silva) – Folía
• Joseph Haydn – Symphony no92 ‘Oxford’ in G major, Hob I:92

Ignore everything you may have gleaned about Antonio Salieri – especially from that film! With only five-and-a-half years difference in age, it is no surprise that he and ‘Amadeus’ were rivals for many of the leading musical jobs on offer at the time. However, it is extremely unlikely that homicide was the end result! Indeed, in later life, these two great musicians were, if not friends, peers who worked together, and had a great deal of respect for each other. Likewise, Mozart and Haydn – who, when the former died, called the younger man “irreplaceable” – their friendship probably being established the year after today’s concerto was completed: when Mozart was in his late twenties; Haydn, his early fifties. Effectively, then – apart from the tremendous bonus which follows the interval (although it not only travels through this period, but echoes Salieri’s undoubted masterpiece: twenty-six incredibly virtuosic, ingenious orchestral variations on the very same theme, from 1815) – today’s concert captures the world of three pre-eminent composers who not only knew and influenced each other, but also dominated the musical scene of their age: with Mozart at its Viennese core.

If the opening symphony and the subsequent concerto are not regularly performed (relative to the fame of their creators; and the 13th is certainly not one of the most famous of Mozart’s 23 piano concertos), then the opposite is true of Haydn’s 92nd symphony – although, as Michael Kennedy once said, this was “composed in 1788 with no thought of Oxford”! However, it is a pocket-sized treasure: beautifully expressing that Austrian zeitgeist; as well as encapsulating and building on the composer’s previous orchestral triumphs… – immediately before he entered the glorious Indian summer of his twelve London symphonies.

What all four works here have in common then are not just bonds of friendship (an OOTS trademark), but excitement, contrasted with lyricism of the highest, most penetrating order – the Salieri thrilling in its exploration of orchestral technique and timbre (as well as its riveting beginning, luxurious middle, and gravity-defying end); Mozart’s concerto mesmerizing in its almost unceasing, meandering and vaulting virtuosity; Lucía and Pedro’s Folía electrifying with both mastery of musical evolution and execution; and finally, Haydn, yet again stretching the bounds of symphonic form: with invention, intelligence and the most exhilarating finale!

Laura van der Heijden and ‘Mercurial’ Haydn:Themes and variations

27 September 2016: Stratford ArtsHouse
28 September 2016: Town Hall, Birmingham

• Joseph Haydn – Symphony No.43 in E-flat major, Hob.I:43
• Joseph Haydn – Concerto No.2 in D Major for cello and orchestra, Hob.VIIB:2
• Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart – Symphony No.29 in A major, K201

My dictionary tells me that the word ‘mercurial’ can mean “active, sprightly, often changing” – and I think this adjective can be applied to all three of this concert’s works: but in slightly different ways. They are also linked by their orchestration – the addition of oboes and horns to the Orchestra of the Swan’s core strings reinforcing our happy band’s quintessential translucent, intimate chamber feel – yet producing extended and contrasting variations in both texture and effect.

All written within a period of a dozen years, it would be easy to lump these pieces in with the contemporary Sturm und Drang movement. However, although Haydn’s 43rd Symphony (the earliest of them) can feel at times both ‘stormy’ and ‘driven’ (especially in the final Allegro), its frequent changes of mood are anything but extreme. If anything, it is a thoughtful piece – admittedly full of contrasts and feelings of unrest – but overwhelmingly lyrical.

The concerto (the latest of the three) builds on this lyricism. Although technically challenging – the ‘mercurial’ finger-work is as visual a delight as it is an aural one – this work 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 Haydn’s continual willingness to learn, to experiment, to stretch… – indeed, a manifestation of his genius.

The Mozart symphony that ends the concert is, though, the sprightliest of the three: a youthful high note on which to end a quite stunning programme! It is simply joy unconfined; and more proof that the late 18th Century not only gave us Romanticism (‘stormy’ or otherwise); but set the high standards that later composers would have to work hard to surpass.

But at length the season of summer does come…

The linden, in the fervors of July,

Hums with a louder concert. When the wind

Sweeps the broad forest in its summer prime,

As when some master-hand exulting sweeps

The keys of some great organ, ye give forth

The music of the woodland depths, a hymn

Of gladness and of thanks.

– William Cullen Bryant: Among the Trees

This month, despite the weather’s best attempts to immerse us in what feels like a premature autumn, music lovers in the UK are in for a treat – a bright, warming ray of sunshine – brought to us, from the United States, in the form of the young rising star, Thomas Nickell: a pianist who has already gathered great praise around the world.

This is his first – hopefully of very many – visits to these shores; and it is rendered even more special by the fact that he will be giving not only the UK première of his own Piano Sonata No.3, but also the first London performance of “Britain’s greatest living composer” David Matthews’ Piano Concerto, Op.111. Both of these will play pivotal rôles in two momentous Orchestra of the Swan concerts (on 10 July 2016 and 16 July 2016) – although his actual début will be with the Cheltenham Symphony Orchestra (on 9 July 2016) – all conducted by OOTS’ Artistic Director David Curtis.