Gertsamtkunstwerk

Grieg and Mahler

Tonight at the Barbican for the London Symphony Orchestra for:

Grieg: Piano Concerto
Mahler Symphony No 5

Myung-Whun Chung conductor
Leif Ove Andsnes piano

I bought the ticket a couple of weeks back and buggered if I was going to miss it.

The programme amused me:

'All the right notes, just not necessarily in the right order.' These are the immortal words of Eric Morecambe, showing Andre Previn ('Mr Preview') how to play the piano in a classic 1970s Morecambe and Wise sketch...

So of course, during the opening bars, I had a vision of Eric and Ernie prancing round the kitchen to the Stripper.

I was also delighted to read that "Mr Andsnes's concert dress is provided by Issay Miyake". After the concert I could have queued to get his autograph. I didn't.

All that aside I enjoyed the concert. Both pieces have been in my collection a good few years now and have lasted for very many plays that have printed them indelibly on my mind. So it's always good to hear a different interpretation.

I had a reasonably good seat at the back of the circle, with an excellent view of the percussion - the Mahler was heavy on percussion, with four percussionists in addition to the timpani. In fact., I had a generally good view of the orchestra, which I like, because I like to watch as well as listen to the interaction between the instruments. It lacked the upfront and personal feel of Fairfield Hall stalls.

I was relieved to note that the audience spanned the age groups far more sensibly than the one last week. There were a lot of twenty-somethings, and a large school party, as well as retirees.

The Grieg is a great concerto that hangs together all the way through, and is dramatic, lyrical and lively. The Mahler starts well, then gets a bit ponderous, before moving into the Adagietto, which is very well known and rather beautiful and builds to a splendid finale.

Update : Look what I found on Amazon - a new CD where Leif Ove Andsnes plays Grieg's and Schumann's piano concerti. Considering that the versions I have of these were bought, on vinyl, in my teens, and have been recorded onto a tape that must be below prime condition, I have just added this to my wishlist.

Guardian Review of CD.

Fairfield Revisited

I realise I only did half an account of the concert I went to last week.

Assuming the link will die in time, the full programme was:
Hungarian National Philharmonic Orchestra
Zoltán Kocsis: conductor
Jenõ Jandó: piano
Attila Fekete: tenor

Kodály: Intermezzo
Rachmaninov: Three Songs - The Pied Piper; Oh, Never Sing To Me Again; What Wealth of Rapture
Liszt: Piano Concerto No. 2 in A
Dvorák: Symphony No. 9 in E minor, "From the New World"
Berlioz: Rakoczy March

Attila Fekete was pleasant to listen to. I always find it fascinating when you see a relatively young and unknown performer and wonder if in years to come they will remain only to the cognoscenti or become wider known. If he becomes wider known, just remember that I was sat just a couple of feet from him, and considered him pleasant, and, in the final song, passionate. But not mind-blowingly brilliant.

Zoltán Kocsis struck me as a very good conductor. Not that I'm any expert, but sometimes I just have to rely on my instincts. A bit of a show off, though - he conducted the Dvorák and Berlioz without a score. Ooh, look at him...! At the end he shook the hand of not only the leader of the orchestra, but also the principal of the second violinists, violas, cellos and double-basses, having also initiated applause for the other sections. I have never seen a conductor do that before.

Magyar Magic

A trip to the Fairfield Halls, Croydon's sole contribution to culture - well, apart from the two theatres.

It's probably a bit sad booking a ticket to go to a concert alone. But the fact that my fiance can't have late nights shouldn't stop me.

I had actually found the concert when looking for something completely different. The internet's like that. Turns out it's the opening concert of a whole year of Hungarian culture in Britain, to mark Hungary's accession to the EU in May. The Hungarian Ambassador was in attendance - I sussed that out when I saw a car with registration MAG 1 outside the concert hall. Events will take place in various British cities, so, if you are interested, as a couple of you will be, do check out Magyar Magic.

Also check out the concert programme, which also included as a bonus the tenor Attila Fekete singing three songs by Rachmaninov. As an encore they played Berlioz's Rakoczy March

Initially I was disappointed at having chosen a stalls seat, and one right at the front to boot. When I go to concerts I have to see the percussion. It's just one of my things. And I realised with sinking heart that I couldn't see the percussion.

But not to worry, I had an excellent view of the soloists, and the conductor, and even ended up exchanging looks with a second violinist and a cellist. I was also very close to the leaders (clearly a job share - they swapped seats after the interval), and was flirting with one in the bar in the interval. (It's a sad state of affairs when the leader of the orchestra, with his fiddle, has to come to the bar for an interval smoke...)

More importantly, by being in such a position I really felt that I was in the heart of the orchestra. Still, I'm glad that my seats for the Barbican next week, and in three weeks are in the circle. I really wanted a good seat to hear Murray Perahia.

I enjoyed the concert, without being moved to tears or any such thing. Still, the journey back reminded me why I stopped seeing Croydon as a viable evening venue a long time ago.

Currently playing on repeat

You may have noticed that I rarely make musical recommendations. I like what I like and you can take it or leave it; my tastes refuse to be pigeon-holed. I am making a rare exception, I would really really recommend Karl Jenkins The Armed Man: A Mass For Peace which is excellently reviewed here

Here is the Official site - note the release date.

Update: Looking back, I realise - note the time - I didn't convey what I really wanted to. This is an amazing musical work, containing some marvellous tunes. The libretto is eclectic, sourced from the common of the mass, the Bible, the moslem call to prayers, Kipling, Dryden, Swift, Togi Sankichi (a poet from hiroshima who died in 1953 of leukemia), the Mahabharata, the memories of WW1 survivors, Malory and Tennyson. There is a narrative running through, the build up to war, the destruction of war, finishing with a glorious "Better Is Peace" , with words taken largely from Tennyson's In Memorium AHH.

The music was composed during the Kosovo conflict, and is dedicated to the victims of Kosovo.

The CD was released on 10th September 2001, which, to me makes it achingly poignant, and even more urgently necessary.

A night out

I did culture last night. Last minute email from Megan who had two tickets for a BBC Singers Invitation Concert, did I want to go? Why not. It was free and it was a pleasant twenty minutes walk from the office through the Embassied roads of Belgravia to St Paul's Knightsbridge. We adjourned to the Wilton Arms, which was not unpleasant - I had Shepherd Neame's Masterbrew.

As we queued to enter the church I could not help notice the age profile of fellow concert-goers. Almost all of them were in the 50-80 age group. We only spotted two pairs younger than us, and maybe a dozen in the 35-50 group.

We settled down for the concert, which was introduced by a woman in real Radio Three voice. The theme was the two Elizabeths, which was somewhat excrutiating, but the music was not unpleasant - madrigals and galliards composed to honour Queen Elizabeth I and pieces by Tippett, Britten and Bliss to mark QEII's Coronation. The highlight was Britten's six Choral Dances from Gloriana. The recording took just about an hour and will be broadcast on July 29th at one o'clock.

The compere explained that Betty didn't like Gloriana, ostensibly because it was based on QE I's dalliance with the Earl of Essex, but my guess is that it was all rather lost on a middle-brow, semi-educated person. When she said that, there was a ripple of deferential amusement. A woman in front turned round, as if to exchange a look of loyal admiration, just at the point where I was pulling a face to signify my disdain, or, perhaps, my disgust.

As I said, the music was not unpleasant. The man in front, said, in resounding bass to his companions, as the final appaluse rolled, "Such fabulous music". I wondered what was more depressing, the paucity of his vocabulary or the absence of musical taste.

In my humble opinion, the Britten was excellent and Thomas Bateson's "Hark, hear you not: Orianna's farewell" was second rate, but the rest of the music was third rate, although admirably performed. One madrigal sounds very much like another. Gallairds and madrigals were the pop music of their time. Not exactly mind expanding.

I found the Church curious. I am almost certain that it is Anglican, but I was somewhat confused by the noticeboard outside advertising High Mass and Low Mass, and, inside the smell of incense. I can never really fathom out these Anglo-Catholic churches. Although, I suspect, I should become Anglican. It's the sort of religion where you don't actually have to be religious. I don't think you even have to believe in God. It's just a useful social arrangement, top be called upon for hatches, matches and dispatches.

As I had walked up 'Embassy Row' I had seen no end of cars, mainly attached to Embasies, with number plates in single and low double digits. I probably saw every number from 1 to 40, except thirteen. When we were walking from our second visit to the Wilton Arms, to Victoria Station, I spotted a '13' on a blue open top sports car. Probably A German make.

We had stopped to give directions to some Floridians looking for The Grenadier Pub. I told them it was far too touristy. Amused, they pointed out that they were Tourists.

How irritating can music be...

A few days ago I bought Classical Gold.

Purists will sniff. But purists tend to have narrow minds.

"Over 3 hours of all-time classical favourites"

Three CDS, multi-changer CD player. 47 tracks.

Including Elgar's Pomp and Circumstance March No. 1. Better known as "Land of Hope and Glory." Never has such a glorious tune been so ruined by the addition of such horrendous words.

Fortunately, this is wordless. It is the BBC Symphony Orchestra conducted by Leonard Bernstein. Orchestra and Organ. Wondeful loud chords, passion, almost Sturm und Drang.

Why did some stupid sod decide that this tune will become more well known by having imperialist words set to it?