Berliner Philharmoniker / Rattle - Grosses Festspielhaus Salzburg, 3 April 2010
Soloists - Camilla Tilling, Magdalena Kožená, Mark Padmore, Topi Lehtipuu, Christian Gerhaher, Thomas Quasthoff, Axel Scheidig, Soren von Billerbeck, Jorg Schneider; Rundfunkchor Berlin, Salzburger Festspiele Kinderchor
Bach's St Matthew Passion is big enough to stand up to almost any kind of treatment - or mistreatment. Opera, theatre, ballet, historically-informed, conductorless - you name it. Even so, placing the direction in the hands of Peter Sellars, best known for his interventionist opera productions, might sound on paper a step too far. But it turned out his direction (or 'ritualization' as the programme has it) was understated and intelligent, an aid to understanding not only the text, but also the musical structure of the work.
Summer is nearly over, and at last the concert calendar is filling up.
Proms and alternatives The Proms seem to have gone on forever, but it'll all be over for another year on 12 September.
Remaining highlights include Mariss Jansons with the Concertgebouw, Riccardo Chailly with the Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra, and the Vienna Philharmonic with Zubin Mehta and Franz Welser-Möst (replacing the scheduled Harnoncourt).
On 4 September there's an unmissable double header - first Matthias Goerne and the Gustav Mahler Jugendorchester in Mahler, Ligeti, Schoenberg and Strauss, then a late-night George Crumb special.
Incidentally, operatic highlights for the 2010 Proms - you heard it here first - are expected to include Die Meistersinger with Bryn Terfel, Glyndebourne's Don Giovanni, and a substantial chunk of Tristan und Isolde from the Orchestra of the 18th Century with Ben Heppner.
If you want to skip the ghastliness of the last night - something I cannot recommend too highly - alternatives include the Wigmore Hall season opener which is Die schöne Müllerin from Mark Padmore and Paul Lewis.
Or there's a FREE screening of the 1929 silent movie Piccadilly on an outside wall (don't blame me if it rains) of the Royal Festival Hall accompanied by a new score from composers Suki Mok and Ruth Chan. Following the screening, the score "will become the lynchpin of a cross-artform work incorporating dance, drama and video against a backdrop of the original silent movie".
Opera The Royal Opera House season opens on 7 September with two concert performances of Donizetti's Linda di Chamounix conducted by Mark Elder and featuring Alessandro Corbelli alongside the hotly-tipped Eglise Gutiérrez and Stephen Costello.
Don Carlo has started rehearsals and promises to turn out even better than first time round. Semyon Bychkov conducts, Jonas Kaufmann is in the title role, and the rest of the cast is much the same as it was first time round, with Marina Poplavskaya, Simon Keenlyside and Ferruccio Furlanetto reprising his definitive Philip.
Don't expect much on stage except the singers in born-again minimalist Christof Loy's new production of Tristan und Isolde. Tristan is Ben Heppner and Isolde Nina Stemme, with Matti Salminen, Michael Volle and Sophie Koch completing the cast. Pappano conducts.
English National Opera's season opens with the much-travelled, highly-praised production of Ligeti's Le Grand Macabre by La Fura dels Baus.
The Arcola Theatre's variable but occasionally brilliant (and cheap) Grimeborn opera festival continues until 5 September. Handel, Poulenc and Mozart are included amongst the mostly contemporary works.
There's an opportunity to hear Rossini's rarely-performed Il Signor Bruschino and La Scala di Seta as well as The Rake's Progress from British Youth Opera between 4 and 12 September.
And Valery Gergiev conducts the LSO in a concert performance of La Damnation de Faust on 22 September, with a cast including Joyce DiDonato, Michael Schade, Thomas Quasthoff and Florian Boesch.
Concerts The LSO's season opener is on 20 September, with Gergiev conducting Debussy, Dutilleux and Ravel.
Next up is a new double bill of Dido and Aeneas with Acis and Galatea opening 31 March. Choreographer Wayne McGregor, whose work demonstrates little musical sensibility, is the odd choice of director. Sarah Connolly, Lucy Crowe, Iestyn Davies and Danielle de Niese make their ROH debuts.
On 13 March there's a one-off performance of Verdi's Messa da Requiem. Antonio Pappano conducts Barbara Frittoli, Olga Borodina, Piotr Beczala and Ildar Abdrazakov. Sold out, but check for returns towards the date.
At ENO, there's a revival of one of their better recent productions, David Alden's Jenùfa with Amanda Roocroft.
On 2, 4 and 9 March the Royal Academy of Music present Haydn's charming La fedeltà premiata in their bijou but perfectly-formed theatre.
Jiří Bělohlávek and the BBCSO attempt an overdue rehabilitation of Martinů's Julietta in concert at the Barbican on 27 March, with Magdalena Kozena in the title role.
And on 28 March David Parry and the LPO bring Rossini's Ermione to the Royal Festival Hall.
At Wigmore Hall, Mark Padmore visits on 12 March with a Brahms and Schubert programme. Joshua Bell and Jeremy Denk appear on 26 March. Check the website for the inevitable returns.
Vladimir Martynov: La Vita Nuova - LPO / Jurowski - Royal Festival Hall, 18 February 2009
Oh Vlad, Vlad, where do I begin? You and your efforts for make better cultural understanding of British peoples. We know you care. If you'd never had a musical training, you'd have ended up as one of those nerdy boys forever foisting unwanted mixtapes on reluctant girls. Come to think of it, tonight's opera was sort of like a mixtape, wasn't it? Or perhaps mish-mash. Vladimir Martynov chucked in every style from Gregorian chant to tone-row. All filtered through a mesh of workaday minimalism to remove unwanted lumps of originality.
But how hard you worked to make it sound fresh and exciting! How rigorously you drilled your troops! I can't remember the last time I heard the LPO play with such brilliance and precision, though it was probably the last time I heard them conducted by you. The EuropaChorAkademie too, not only singing immaculately, but mastering all that shuffling around, trooping in and out to some baffling choreographic purpose.
And how kind of the LSO to lend you Carmine Lauri to lead the band - what an undervalued musician he is, and how inspiring.
All the soloists were simply brilliant - Mark Padmore was your best catch (though whenowhen will he grow out that hideous Danny Dyer's Deadliest Men haircut?). He sang the lumpy recits and bellowed the leaden chants with grace and conviction, though he didn't reach full steam until the second half's faux-Liebestod withlovely Tatiana Monogarova. This was my favourite bit, even if "sweet death come to me" repeated over and over with syrupy violins behind doesn't start to capture the redemptive power of the ultimate sacrifice, the triumph of love over life itself. But we can't all be Richard Wagner, eh?
I quite liked the mini-requiem that came after too. Très Fauré. What a pity a chunk of the already-sparse audience left at half-time and missed it. But I expect you noticed that yourself anyway, Vlad. After all, you started each half facing the audience. Was there a reason for that? But at least it added some visual interest. As did placing Mark Padmore and the three sweet little boy trebles around the auditorium now and again. Is that what you'd call semi-staging? I was happy just contemplating the adorable way your hair kinks where you've taken out your ponytail elastic, but others are less easily pleased, so thanks for your consideration. By the way, you have such lovely shiny hair - what conditioner do you use? (Email me privately if you're shy).
I've heard one new operatic masterpiece this week, though you won't be surprised to hear, Vlad, it wasn't this one. I never even worked out what it was all about.
But I don't want you to stop trying. London desperately - desperately - needs you and your vision. We cannot live on Mahler alone. We need you to bring us stuff of all sorts, music we'd never get a chance to hear otherwise. So thank you. Sorta.
David McVicar brings his chipolata-stuffedRigoletto back to the Royal Opera House on 10 February. Star-power is limited to veterans Leo Nucci and Paolo Gavanelli sharing the title role but this is Verdi at his most unbreakable so that's all it needs. We wait eagerly to see what Francesco Meli and Ekaterina Siurina can make of the Duke and Gilda. More Ekaterina in recital at St John's Smith Square on 20 February.
George Benjamin's highly-praised shortie Into the Little Hill gets its long-awaited London premiere in the Linbury Studio on 14 February. It's coupled with Birtwistle's Down by the Greenwood Side. Still no casting details on the ROH site, whatever that means.
But the major event of the month at Covent Garden is the premiere of Tim Albery's new production of Der fliegende Holländer on 23 February with Bryn 'teh Chin' Terfel as the Dutchman.
At ENO, Jonathan Miller's new La Bohème opens tomorrow. And you are duly warned that John Adams's irredeemably dim-witted Dr Atomic, which I saw in New York last autumn (well the first half anyway: I walked out at the interval) arrives on 25 February. On the plus side, it has a far better production and cast than the material deserves.
Opera Holland Park slip through the park gates and catch the 391 to Richmond Theatre where from 24 February the simple country folk can enjoy their brilliant Tosca from last summer. There are two casts - Amanda Echalaz, the best Tosca in town, sings on 25 and 27 February and 1 March.
The Barbican presents Handel's oratorio Samson on 12 February, for which The Sixteen are joined by a terrific line of of soloists including Mark Padmore, Gillian Keith, Catherine Wyn-Rogers and Roderick Williams. And on 22 and 23 February, the LSO record Berlioz's Te Deum with Sir Colin Davis
Wigmore Hall's bargain-priced 4 o'clock Sunday song recitals continue with two artists on the brink of major careers - Jacques Imbrailo on 15 February and Lucy Crowe on 22 February.
On 21 February Gustavo Dudamel makes an eagerly-awaited return to London, where he conducts the Philharmonia in Mahler's 5th at the Royal Festival Hall.
And at the same place tomorrow night, 4 February Matthias Goerne joins Neeme Jarvi and the LPO for Mahler's Kindertotenlieder coupled with a purist-agitating rarity - Mahler's arrangement of Beethoven's 9th. There's a free talk at 6.15 for anyone who's interested in the background to this fascinating molestation. The photo below shows Mahler conducting Beethoven's 9th in Strasbourg in 1905.
Mark Padmore / Julius Drake / Nicolas Daniel / Ileana Ruhemann / Simon Rowland-Jones / Doric String Quartet - Wigmore Hall, 6 January 2009
Vaughan Williams Four Hymns for tenor, viola and piano; Merciless Beauty; 10 Blake Songs; Studies in English Folksong Warlock The Curlew
With his fiftieth anniversary celebration now over, I'd thought Vaughan Williams might be be easier to dodge this year, but no, he's proving tough to bury. I'm not sure whether it's open-mindedness or simple masochism that makes me persist with his unique combination of tweeness and dreariness. And I'm not sure whether Mark Padmore is the valiant preserver of an undervalued repertoire, or simply wasted on material that is beneath his talents. At any rate, he's perhaps the only singer around who can do any sort of justice to it, and has even convinced me that On Wenlock Edge is, if not quite a masterpiece, then at least worthwhile. Ian Bostridge was in the audience, perhaps to pick up tips. English song is like German cuisine - the ingredients are unpromising, the results often unpalatable, and successful results require true artistry in preparation.
Padmore bellowed the opening Four Hymns with the unpersuasive fury of a revivalist preacher, but the three Chaucer settings of Merciless Beauty, accompanied by three quarters of the Doric Quartet, had more charm.
Better yet were the Blake settings which ended the first half. According to the programme, the texts were far from favourites of Vaughan Williams, but his simple arrangements - some with sparing oboe accompaniment, some acapella - perfectly mirror the directness of Blake's poetry. They were projected sincerely and unfussily by Mark Padmore, his veiled, clarinet-like tone beautifully complementing Nick Daniel's piercing oboe as it wound in and out. Duos so often settle into soloist and accompanist roles, but this one was a rare partnership of equals.
The second half began with Vaughan Williams's Studies in English Folksong, arrangements of traditional songs he collected around the country. Here Nick Daniel's cor anglais took the place of the voice, with Julius Drake's supporting piano. They were played with such warmth and enthusiasm (not to mention some impressive circular breathing) that I didn't need to grit my teeth - all the same, I'm in no hurry to hear them again.
The highlight of the evening was undoubtedly Peter Warlock's bleak Yeats cycle, The Curlew, which brought in the full string quartet, a strikingly empathetic ensemble, with flute and cor anglais evoking plaintive bird calls. Despite the melancholis tone of unrequited love in the poetry, I am obliged to observe that Warlock's harmonic and rhythmic invention was a ray of sunshine after the relentlessly overcast and underwrought Vaughan Williams. Mark Padmore, in fine voice all night anyway, made a more profound emotional connection with these texts than with any of the others. Far from being a footnote to an anniversary celebration, this magnificent performance crowned it.
Steven Isserlis Birthday Concert (Radu Lupu / András Schiff /Joshua Bell / Dame Felicity Lott / Mark Padmore /Jeremy Denk)- Wigmore Hall, 16 December 2008
Bach Italian Concerto in F BWV 971 (Schiff); Haydn She never told her love; The spirit's song; Dvorák Die Stickerin Op. 82 No. 2; Frühling Op. 82 No. 3; Am Bache Op. 82 No. 4; Lasst mich allein Op. 82 No. 1 (Lott/Padmore/Schiff); Schumann Arabeske in C Op. 18; Kinderszenen Op. 15 (Lupu); Janácek Violin Sonata (Bell/Denk); Fauré Clair de lune Op. 46 No. 2; Nell Op. 18 No. 1; Soir Op. 83 No. 2; Mandoline No. 1 from 'Cinq mélodies de Venise' Op. 58 (Lott/Padmore/Lupu); Schubert Fantasie in F minor (Lupu/Schiff)
Encore: Schubert Rondo in A Major (Lupu/Schiff)
Extra: Beethoven Bagatelle Op.119, No.10 (Schiff)
This concert was by some distance the hottest ticket of the Wigmore season. Just look at what was on offer. To start with, András Schiff, Joshua Bell, Felicity Lott and Mark Padmore, any of whom could sell out the hall in no time on their own. Plus the elusive legend Radu Lupu, rarely seen, ever coveted. And it was all in honour of the fiftieth birthday of the much-loved Steven Isserlis, here of course in person though not on stage.
Normally, it's not hard to pick up a returned ticket from the Wigmore Hall website close to the day, even for sell-outs, but not this time. There was a long and mostly to be disappointed queue for last minute returns in the foyer when I arrived. How I treasured my own ticket. A crappy corner seat, but a seat, nonetheless.
A swift Happy Birthday from the audience, accompanied by house manager David on piano, then it was on to the real business. Or not quite. After reminding us that it was Beethoven's birthday today, not Steven Isserlis's (which is really on Friday) András Schiff paid tribute with an unscheduled dash through a tiny Bagatelle (Op.119, No.10) - then ran through it again for luck. Here it is - the whole piece:
Schiff began the programme proper in celebratory mood with Bach's sunny Italian Concerto, enriching it with luxuriantly arpeggiated chords. Here's one he made earlier, for Japanese TV:
He was joined by Felicity Lott and Mark Padmore for a group of Haydn and Dvorák songs. Schiff, always a generous and intelligent collaborator with singers, captured beautifully the veiled resignation of Haydn's lengthy prelude to the first, She never told her love (from Viola's speech to Orsino in Twelfth Night). It tells the story almost better than the words do - delivered here compellingly and occasionally stridently by Mark Padmore.
Felicity Lott handled the eerie chromatic runs of The spirit's song, as so often with 'minor' Haydn sounding at moments about a century before its time. Her voice is now sounding rather fibrous at the top, but still has great allure, and the ability to shape a song intelligently remains entirely undimmed.
The biggest draw of the evening though was Radu Lupu, who appears to favour village halls far from London for his rare UK appearances these days. Unassuming to a tee, he shuffled looking like Fidel Castro's chubby elder brother. He settled into his habitual sawn-off chair to commune with the piano, singing quietly to himself as he played - as if he were in his own front room playing to an audience of none.
Just as you lean in to listen to someone who speaks quietly, so Lupu's playing invites almost conspiratorial attention. It's not just that he plays quietly (though that he does), it's the near-fetishistic attention to detail that pulls you in. Lupu observed Schumann's markings rigorously but entirely without the least breath of exaggeration. It was his own subtle inflections of these - an near-imperceptible acceleration into a ritardando for example - that turned every note into something intensely personal.
As with the Kurtág miniatures Isserlis himself exquisitely performed a couple of weeks ago in this very spot (a concert I didn't find time to write up), there was the sense that every single note of Schumann'sArabeske and Kinderszenen counted, that each had been considered and justly weighted. Even the usually brash tones of the Wigmore Hall Steinway seemed subdued beneath his fingers. Science tells us that because the piano is a percussion instrument, the tone quality of a note is the same whoever hits it, but those rare few like Lupu - and Sokolov is another - seem able to defy even the fixed laws of the universe.
Time for an ice-cream.
After the interval, Joshua Bell and Jeremy Denk were the unlucky pair who had to Follow That. If their immaculate and spirited gallop through Janácek'sViolin Sonata didn't quite hit the spot, comparison was at least partly to blame.
Back came Radu Lupu in the unaccustomed guise of accompanist to Mark Padmore and Felicity Lott in a selection of dreamy Fauré songs. Mark Padmore found himself rather high up the stave for comfort, and though the notes themselves were achieved, his vowels suffered as a result in Nell and Soir. Felicity Lott demonstrated her expertise in this repertoire with the serene beauty of Mandoline and Clair de lune underpinned by Lupu's sympathetic piano. If he had seemed entirely self-contained for his solo performance, here he proved he could be a painstaking listener too as he cushioned and conversed with the vocal line.
The finale found Lupu's chair to the right of Schiff's more conventional piano stool for Schubert's four-handed Fantasie in F minor. Could they do better than the last pairing I heard, Lang Lang and his mini-me at the Proms? The bar could hardly be set lower - and the response could not be more contrasted. The sympathy and generosity of both pianists was evident in their extreme restraint, even the epic climaxes handled with delicacy.
The loudly-demanded encore saw Lupu and Schiff swapping seats for Schubert's Rondo in A Major, in some aspects even more perfectly weighted than the Fantasie.
Some birthday present. Happy birthday Steven Isserlis!
Steven Isserlis leaves the stage, followed by András Schiff:
PCM 7: Nash Ensemble / Mark Padmore - Cadogan Hall, 1 September 2008
The Monday lunchtime Cadogan Hall chamber concerts may be shoved into the corner of the Proms schedules but they offer up some rare treats.
First up was the rarely-heard Clarinet Quintet by Samuel Coleridge-Taylor, a fellow student of Vaughan Williams. Its gentle charm is spread rather thinly over its thirty-odd minutes. Although this particular line up of the fluidly-staffed Nash Ensemble was sensitive and well-balanced and most certainly did the work justice, it's not one I'll be rushing to hear again any time soon.
Before Mark Padmore could sing, he had to submit to interrogation on teh Poetry of AE Housman and teh Landscapes of Vaughan Williams by some red-socked, wind-stuffed Uncle Monty from Radio 3 - fascinating for us in the audience, but not the kindest way to prepare for half an hour of singing.
It was also an opportunity to study Mark Padmore's latest hair escapade, this time a number 2/beardlet combo that looked like he'd sprayed his head with superglue and rolled in iron filings. He's lucky the photo hasn't come out too well.
He's an old hand at On Wenlock Edge, and consistently proves that it's one of Vaughan Williams's most underrated works. Its pastoral lyricism is undercut with bitterness and foreboding, brilliantly revealed in the dramatic extremes of Padmore's performance. The arrangement is for strings is sometimes bizarre and exploratory, often penetratingly evocative, and the Nash Ensemble again displayed great sensitivity.
Mark Padmore / Julius Drake - Wigmore Hall, 21 May 2008
Mark Padmore made the point in his excellent programme note - as reproduced in the Guardian - that 'Winterreise starts almost where Die Schöne Müllerin leaves off'. I don't see as much in common as that suggests, and I wonder if Padmore really does either, because his approach to tonight's Winterreise bore little relation to his Schöne Müllerin of a couple of nights before.
What made the most difference was his total commitment and confidence. The other night he'd hidden behind the loveliness of his voice for much of the cycle. But here, he had a clear idea of where he was going, and not even the odd slipped note could divert him.
This was a Winterreise of neurosis punctuated with ferocious self-loathing, not so much a journey as an unchecked torrent of despair, brought to a stuttering lull in dawning self-knowledge at Der Wegweiser before continuing to its bleak and bitter end.
Although Padmore was in fine voice, he made beautiful sounds very sparingly, limiting them to the more wistful and reflective moments like Der Lindenbaum and Frühlingstraum. The effect was all the more telling for its rarity. Elsewhere he underlined mental instability with explosive dynamic contrasts, almost shouting lines like the last one of Die Wetterfahne, 'Ihr Kind is eine reiche Braut' - this was heartfelt fury, not the sneering dismissal it's often portrayed with. Sincerity is so much harder to convey than irony, but this is the course Padmore chose, and he succeeded.
Julius Drake provided spirited and equally strong-willed accompaniment. Indeed there was a moment of tension right at the start in Gute Nacht when Drake seemed to be pushing on while Padmore pulled back - if this was intentional, it was inspired, because it really sounded as if they were about to fall apart. Reviewers never seem to find any fault with Drake's playing. Unlike them, I sometimes find Drake's own firmly-expressed ideas, his interventionist style, to intrude on a real sense of partnership. But paradoxically, that's his strength as well. His idiosyncratically powerful contributions to Rast and Täuschung were not only radically different from the conventional but entirely in keeping with the boldness of Padmore's interpretation.
Their final song, Der Leiermann, sounded, quite properly, like the last song at the end of the world.
Peter Anders made one of the greatest Winterreise recordings with Gerald Moore in 1945. The voice is less beautiful than Padmore's, and the style more operatic, but the existential despair is all there:
Mark Padmore/Till Fellner - Wigmore Hall, 19 May 2008
Tonight's Die schöne Müllerin was the first of Mark Padmore's hotly anticipated, sold out months ago trio of Schubert cycles at the Wigmore Hall. Winterreise follows on Wednesday and Schwanengesang on Saturday.
It was a frustrating hour, with only a few high spots offering a glimpse of what Padmore might be capable of. While it was far from terrible, it was also from a singer of his abilities and experience disappointingly close to average. He simply wasn't able to sustain the dramatic arc of the cycle, to take us on that emotional journey. The fracturing of the sequence was tellingly emphasised by a hail of inter-song coughing.
More critically, many of the songs were skimmed through in an adept but bland style, finely-crafted and superficially attractive singing that gave little weight to meaning. Padmore had a few technical problems, particularly in his upper range,and it crossed my mind that his reserve might have something to do with not wanting to risk any further exposure of these. What should have been the first dramatic peak of the cycle, Ungeduld, turned out to be something of a damp squib, creamily purred through without a hint of passion. Mein had a little more thrust behind it, but little warmth - the effect was joyless and almost creepy, like the ramblings of some unhinged stalker.
Although Till Fellner provided refined and sensitive accompaniment, it couldn't provide the magic that was needed here - if anything it reinforced Padmore's emotional detachment.
It wasn't until Padmore was close to the end, with the suicidal Die liebe Farbe, that voice and heart clicked into place, and I could finally believe what he was singing. The last five songs were a hint of what might have been, a glorious melding of intelligence, interpretative sensitivity and impeccable technique. I just hope he can find some more of whatever that is for Wednesday's Winterreise, because it'll be a long night otherwise.
This concert was recorded and will be broadcast on Radio 3 on 28 May at 7pm.
***UPDATE***
One of the finest recorded versions of Die schöne Müllerin comes from the exquisitely friable tenor of Aksel Schiøtz. Recorded in 1945 with Gerald Moore, here are the first twelve songs of the cycle auf Muxtape.
The logic of a programme which pairs Prokofiev's Violin Concerto No 2 with Britten's Spring Symphony eludes me.
And hasn't Gergiev given us plenty of Prokofiev with the LSO recently anyway? I don't understand the implications of Daniel Harding sticking his flag in that territory too. But whatevs.
The soloist in the Prokofiev was Viktoria Mullova, supercool in zebra print dress over black leggings and flat ankle boots. Her performance was far from routine, and never less than accomplished, but somehow it failed to catch fire. The same could be said of the orchestra's response, despite its balance and refinement. Is it really that insubstantial a work, or did it just sound that way? Perhaps Harding just wanted to avoid vulgarity, but its sweet-centred lyricism came across as chocolate boxy.
Britten's Spring Symphony was far more satisfying, not to mentioned well timed. With the clocks going forward in the morning, and (finally) some coat-ditching weather, it really did feel like the first day of spring.
The Spring Symphony is unusual in demanding a full orchestra, then giving it remarkably little to do for most of the time. Vocal music dominates, and the various English poems are often lightly orchestrated or not at all.
The London Symphony Chorus sparkled in the many a cappella choral sections, as did the score-free and note-perfect Tiffin Boys' Choir. The soloists, Susan Gritton, Sarah Connolly and Mark Padmore, radiated the joys of spring - or perhaps just a long Sunday lie-in and a good lunch. Freshness and charm pervaded throughout. Harding deftly wove together the awkward open textures, skilfully building the tension before releasing the work's final explosion. Spring at last.
St John Passion - Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment - Queen Elizabeth Hall, 24 February 2008
The second best thing about Easter, after Cadbury Mini-Eggs, has to be the inevitable procession of Bach Passions through the concert halls of London. I'm restricting myself to two this season - the next is another St John, at the Barbican on 14 March.
Like London buses, the Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment didn't have a conductor on board. (Also the tickets were overpriced and the journey seemed to take forever, but I'll leave that for now).
Consciously or not, they drew attention to the absence by leaving a large gap centre stage where the podium would normally be.
The idea was not simply to imitate original performance practice, but also, as Mark Padmore explains here, to interest the audience, and maybe even improve the performance by allowing the tempos to develop more naturally.
With a small ensemble of eighteen musicians and twelve singers, all steeped in this repertoire, there was little chance it would be a total disaster. But at the same time, thirty people cannot be expected to have the symbiotic rapport of a jazz trio or a string quartet. Intelligent decisions can be taken in rehearsals, but there's little scope for flexibility in the performance itself if there's no single guiding hand on the night.
So while the performers' responsiveness to each other created a feeling of intimacy and absorption, there were also no real risks taken (probably wisely - there were several minor fluffs anyway). The cautious uniformity tempos and dynamics failed to shape the work. This task fell to Mark Padmore as the Evangelist. Despite a cast on one foot and a hacking cough, his meticulously-shaded tenor could glow or gleam or glare, sometimes in the course of a single note. The crystal-bright soprano Lydia Teuscher was the other memorable soloist.
The chorus, which included the soloists, generally managed crisp entrances and general ensemble, but there was a distinct lack of balance in many passages, with some individual voices carrying far out over the others. Equally, I felt the bass and cello were over-favoured in the orchestral balance, but that may have been partly because I was sitting closer to them, and the Queen Elizabeth Hall acoustic doesn't compensate for such accidents of placement.
There was no interval in the two hour performance. Instead actor Stephen Dillane (also the double bassist's page turner for the night) gave a couple of readings, in place of the sermon which would have punctuated the original performance. I'm all for playing longer works straight through, but if you're going to split them like that, why not have a proper break? A few of the audience would have appreciated it, judging from the number who slipped out mid-second half, and some of the performers might have wilted less toward the end, too.
The free pre-performance talk by Bach scholar John Butt deserves a mention too. Obviously used to holding the mayfly attentions of undergraduates, Butt got top marks for not only for the title of his talk ('Butt on Bach') but for an entertaining, layman-friendly sweep through the main features of the work and current theories about its original performance style.
Having steeled my puritan ears for the promised ecstasy, I was surprised at the graceful restraint of the scoring. More like being sprinkled with sugar than dunked in syrup.
And although it avoids the solemnity we associate with the oratorio form, it's not all froth either. Episodically ravishing, beautiful even, it is however fleshed out with too many orchestrate-by-numbers passages to deserve labelling as a masterpiece. The near-impenetrable libretto, a word thicket of typically Victorian density, doesn't help its case.
The simple story of the Peri (a Persian fairy) who must devise a gift in order to enter the gates of heaven was narrated by Mark Padmore with interventions from the Peri (Sally Matthews) and other characters, portrayed by Bernarda Fink, Kate Royal, Timothy Robinson and David Wilson Johnson.
The female soloists were thoughtfully co-ordinated in taffeta gowns (left) so it was a pity that only Sally Matthews and Mark Padmore sang from the front of the stage, the other soloists being tucked back with the choir.
I'd never thought of Schumann as a choral writer until now, but the Choir of the Enlightenment had some of the best music, and they made the most of it in a series of luminously coloured passages. The ethereal Nile Spirits chorus, beautifully executed, was exquisite in its detail, and the soaring Blessed Spirits chorus was a suitably ecstatic finale.
The lustrous, knife-sharp soprano of Sally Matthews brought an other-worldly radiance to the part of the Peri. It contrasted with Mark Padmore's grave demeanour, which sometimes seemed at odds with the music. He didn't seem to be on his best form tonight, losing some of the lower notes, and a bit shouty overall.
I've heard Bernarda Fink sing better too, but her second half was better than her rather wobbly first. David Wilson Johnson's rich baritone was a highlight, but unfortunately he didn't have a great deal to do.
Neither did Kate Royal, here on absolutely stunning form, but with only one aria to lend her shimmering silvery soprano to.
Simon Rattle drove things along with a characteristic enthusiasm, drawing a vigorous and committed performance from the Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment. Their raw-textured sound went some to countering any charges of excessive prettiness in the music, but ultimately the writing gripped only sporadically. When it did - there is some strange and wonderful harmonic exposition tucked away in there - it convinced that at least part of the work is worth further exploration.
It wasn't quite enough to persuade that Das Paradies und die Peri is a neglected masterpiece - and it certainly needs a top drawer cast like tonight's to give it any chance at all - but Simon Rattle deserves credit for organising this airing.
Though he hedges his bets with "to our very puritanical, middle-European ears, people think this is simply too beautiful, the dissonances are too extraordinary. People have a problem with ecstatic music".
He's gathered a fantastic cast - Bernarda Fink, Sally Matthews, Kate Royal, Mark Padmore and David Wilson Johnson - so he may just prove himself wrong there.
But there will be no rigging, no jigging and definitely no frigging on Captain Daniel Harding's ship - it's a concert version. Which means (I am presuming) we will have the rare privilege of seeing Nathan Gunn (in the title role) with his shirt on. Ian Bostridge and Gidon Saks (a late replacement for the sick John Relyea) fill the other principal roles, but the casting is chiefly interesting for the quality it brings to the smaller parts - Matthew Rose, Andrew Kennedy, Darren Jeffery, Andrew Staples and Roderick Williams to name just a few.
Fortunately an agonising decision can be averted by opting for the repeat of Billy Budd on Sunday 9 December.
Prom 46: Mark Padmore/The English Concert - Cadogan Hall Prom 47: City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra - Royal Albert Hall Prom 48: LSO with Alina Ibragimova/Venezuelan Brass Ensemble - Royal Albert Hall, 18 August 2007
If you had Wayne Rooney on your team, would you take him off at half time? It seemed odd to fill the second half of the English Concert's programme with Handel's overexposed Water Music when Mark Padmore (a mere six songs in the first half) was on such winning form.
Not that there was anything wrong with the English Concert's instrumental pieces, all pulled together with a freshness and vitality that even some dodgy horn playing didn't mar. Laurence Cummings' direction from the harpsichord, largely restricted to key moments like rests and rits, was minimal but effective.
But it was Mark Padmore's few contributions that really made this concert. He miraculously managed to present the quaint humour in three Arne settings of Shakespeare in an entirely non-excruciating way. And in his three Handel arias - a strongly theatricalised Total eclipse, His mighty arm and Waft her, angels - he thoroughly inhabited each character. Padmore's Handel is secure and precise, each syllable individually considered and perfectly coloured. At least there was the small consolation of an encore of Tune your harps, beautifully arranged for pizzicato strings and stunning oboe from Marcel Ponseele.
Talking of colour, the English Concert's choice of stage wear, individually selected but all in harmonious shades of purple, is a most effective compromise between the fussiness of full frack and the sloppy casual:
Over at the Albert Hall, despite the fine Jesus of Alan Opie and Mary Magdalene of Catherine Wyn-Rogers (left), I found the CBSO's performance of Elgar's The Apostles severely hard going.
It's a flawed and over-long work that wasn't helped by conductor Oramo's even-handedness of dynamics and tempo. Only in the final Ascension movement was there any real propulsive energy.
Conducted by a hyperactive François-Xavier Roth, the LSO positively motored through two short Piazzolla pieces and a couple of Coplands. Who knew they had hot tamale souce in their veins? Alina Ibragimova's solos in Piazzolla's La Mufa and Todo Buenos Aires were deft and sensitive, despite a mere four days preparation.
The LSO made way for the Venezuelan Brass Ensemble, a band of about 50 drawn from the ranks of the Simón Bolivar Youth Orchestra of Venezuela, who are performing tomorrow night. In a variety of configurations, sometimes switching to percussion instruments, they displayed great balance and teamwork. They started with rather more slow and sombre work than I felt like hearing after the LSO's earlier programme, but always with an impressive precision. They really blossomed when they upped the tempo for pieces like Tico Tico.
They packed extra energy into the couple of pieces that were composed by ensemble members. These surprisingly made more of an impression than some of the better known works.
There's absolutely no need to make any allowance for the fact that all of the musicians are under 20 - any full-time, adult, professional band would be thrilled to play as well as this. Their blistering, uninhibited finale of I Got Rhythm got them a completely deserved standing ovation, rewarded with an immediate encore.
One thing puzzled me - the ensemble is reportedly open to all, but I only noticed a couple of girls there. That's fewer than the LSO have, fewer even than male bastions like the Berlin Phil - I wonder why?
Mark Padmore, Walking to Lübeck - Queen's Hall, Edinburgh, 14 August 2007 Edinburgh International Festival
For this programme of music by Bach and his contemporaries, Mark Padmore was accompanied by Walking to Lübeck, an ensemble of five strings, organ/harpsichord, oboe and flute, all experienced chamber musicians, but I believe performing together for the first time under this name.
The recital began unpromisingly with Bach's Cantata 55, Ich armer Mensch. Padmore, not properly warmed up, wasn't breathing properly and missed notes at both ends of his range. The ensemble were no more than accurate, locked in joyless precision. The flute was out of kilter with the overall dynamic, domineering and obtrusive, a problem which was unfortunately to persist. They all looked relieved to finish.
Next up was an off-programme extra, Buxtehude's Contrapunctus I and II, added in presumably to flesh out the skimpy one hour originally programmed. Cellist Alison McGillivray explained the fugal structure of these pieces, though not their relationship to the Buxtehude Klaglied scheduled for the second half. This is not well-known music to many people and it would have been helpful to have some programme notes, rather than making us all go through the shiz of post-show googling. However Alison did the best she could in the circumstances and clearly warmed to the applause for her efforts. The ensemble seemed a lot more relaxed here and Padmore had far fewer vocal problems.
Their self-confidence grew further with the recitative and aria from Bach's Cantata 161, Komm du süsse Todesstunde. The flute and oboe sat this one out, and the ensemble sounded a lot more balanced as a result, as they did with the second half opener, Buxtehude's Klaglied. This, like the Contrapuncti heard earlier, was written for Buxtehude's father's funeral. The intensity of Mark Padmore's delivery was utterly heartfelt and almost frightening, his control absolute.
Another unscheduled piece followed, Kuhnau's whimsical Der Streit zwischen David und Goliath, six little pieces of marvellously vivid instrumental programme music arranged for the ensemble and introduced by Padmore. Although intellectually this sat well within the programme (Kuhnau being Bach's predecessor in Leipzig, thx Google) and proved popular with the rest of the audience, its essential lightness jarred with the maker-meeting gravity of Bach's work.
The final Bach Cantata 82, Ich habe genug, showed the transcendent beauty of Mark Padmore's voice at its best. It was literally breathtaking.
The encore, Tune your harps from Handel's Esther, was like a ray of sunshine. Beautifully arranged for pizzicato strings and discreet oboe, it suggested a potentially more fruitful avenue of exploration for this particular ensemble.
Plenty going on of course at the Royal Opera House this autumn, and here's what's happening elsewhere in London.
English National Opera kick off their season at the end of September with a new Carmen. They follow with a revival of Nicholas Hytner's charming Magic Flute, Kate Royal and Lucy Crowe in a new production of Monteverdi's Coronation of Poppea directed by Chen Shi-Zheng, a Zandra Rhodes-designed Aida from Houston Grand Opera and a David McVicar Turn of the Screw.
English Touring Opera hit Hackney Empire on 12 October with Handel's Teseo followed by Country Matters, an English-language version of Haydn's L'Infidelta Delusa on 13 October. They're back on 25 October with Bridgetower, a new jazz opera by Julian Joseph. ETO may not have the star names or the big budgets, but they still manage to conjure up some high quality productions at very reasonable prices, so these will definitely be on my list.
Some musical muppetry for the Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment at the Queen Elizabeth Hall, where Purcell's Dido and Aeneas "is expanded and reinvigorated by Director Tim Carroll, who weaves Marlowe's play of the same events into the opera, while the action is illuminated by a cast of magical marionettes". Two performances, on 13 and 14 October (note ETO fixture clash).
And the OAE are back for a rare concert performance of Schumann's Das Paradies und die Peri in the Royal Festival Hall on 7 December. "Not an opera" according to Schumann, who titled it a 'poem' and described it as "not for the chapel, but rather for cheerful folk." Cheerful folk joining the OAE include Simon Rattle and a solid cast of Bernarda Fink, Sally Matthews, Kate Royal and Mark Padmore.
Again the OAE have a schedule overlap, this time with the Barbican's Billy Budd on 7 and 9 December, featuring Nathan Gunn as Billy and Ian Bostridge. In sharp contrast to the Royal Festival Hall's increasingly greedy ticket prices, this is a great bargain, with the top price just £30 and loads of balcony seats at £6 and £12.
The Barbican also hosts Les Arts Florissants on 24 October with Landi'sIl Sant'Alessio, featuring Philippe Jaroussky in the title role.
And the LPO present another concert performance on 21 November, this time the UK premiere of Korngold's Das Wunder der Heliane. Tickets are already getting thin for this. For the Korngold-ignorant (raises hand) there's a free talk beforehand by Jessica Duchen.
Mark Padmore/Petersen Quartet/Andrew West - Wigmore Hall, 15 May 2007
Fauré: La Bonne Chanson Op.61, Watkins: Goodison Quartet No.4, Schumann: String Quartet in A Op.41/3
How I hate fixture clashes. It was a toss up between this and Simon Rattle with the OAE over at the Barbican - tough one - which may have been the reason the Wigmore was far from full. That and the fact that the centrepiece of the evening was that evergreen audience-repellant, 'new music'.
There was no need to be scared, because the new piece in question was entirely accessible, evoking nothing more frightening than Stravinsky or Britten. A string quartet with voice by Huw Watkins, based on the Dylan Thomas poem In my craft or sullen art, it offered up a dual reading of the text, setting it twice with extended intro and coda, and an instrumental section between. Each setting took the same words and a similar rhythmic base. The first featured a simple melodic line and sparse instrumental texture; the second setting was dense, anxious, insistent, with high stretched vocal passages. Harmonic shifts and subtly layered timbres formed the focus of interest. It is hard to think of anyone who could sing several lines on the same note as Mark Padmore was required to but still colour each syllable differently, and the quartet played their part with purpose and cohesiveness.
Flanking the central piece we started with half an hour of Fauré songs based on Verlaine's exquisite love poems to his future wife. It wasn't too promising to begin with - the quartet nearly drowning out an unusually quiet Padmore, and the sort of dodgy vowels that make me want to put camembert in my ears. But he settled in, the volume knob went up, the French inexplicably improved, and his clear bright tone displayed the radiance of the music perfectly, with the quartet slotting in empathetically around him.
After the break came the tricksy Schumann quartet. The Petersens took a full-on energy-packed approach, matching Schumann's inventiveness with an incredibly broad colour palette. Looking at their website they're not planning any more visits here in the near future which is a shame.
Here is the Wigmore's inappropriately droopy floral display du jour:
Although Till Fellner provided refined and sensitive accompaniment, it couldn't provide the magic that was needed here - if anything it reinforced Padmore's emotional detachment.
The logic of 
Speaking about 
The simple story of the Peri (a Persian fairy) who must devise a gift in order to enter the gates of heaven was narrated by Mark Padmore with interventions from the Peri (Sally Matthews) and other characters, portrayed by Bernarda Fink, Kate Royal, Timothy Robinson and David Wilson Johnson.
The lustrous, knife-sharp soprano of 
Simon Rattle drove things along with a characteristic enthusiasm, drawing a vigorous and committed performance from the Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment. Their raw-textured sound went some to countering any charges of excessive prettiness in the music, but ultimately the writing gripped only sporadically. When it did - there is some strange and wonderful harmonic exposition tucked away in there - it convinced that at least part of the work is worth further exploration. 
"
Over at the Albert Hall, despite the fine Jesus of Alan Opie and Mary Magdalene of Catherine Wyn-Rogers (left), I found the 
How I hate fixture clashes. It was a toss up between this and Simon Rattle with the OAE over at the Barbican - tough one - which may have been the reason the Wigmore was far from full. That and the fact that the centrepiece of the evening was that evergreen audience-repellant, 'new music'.
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