Category Archives: Live Performance

Stephanie McCallum (piano)

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stephanie_mccallum_photo 

 

 

Octagon Theatre

 

 

reviewed by Neville Cohn

 

 

 

 

It would be unreasonable and manifestly unfair to expect an absolutely unwavering standard of excellence from any musician, even the most experienced and committed. In the nature of things, any performer can have an off-day. And this an overriding impression of Stephanie McCallum’s recital in UWA’s Keyed-Up recital series at the weekend.

 

Let it be said at once that Ms McCallum is one of the brightest and most enduring stars on the Australia’s fine music scene. She has numbers of well-received compact discs and a formidable list of live concert successes to her credit.

 

McCallum’s program for the Keyed-Up series incorporated the complete set of Beethoven’s Bagatelles opus 33 which she recently committed to compact disc – and it was one of the most positive highlights of the evening, with care lavished on minute detail. These seven miniatures, lovingly fashioned, came across like a chaplet of finely facetted gemstones.

 

I particularly liked Roger Smalley’s Morceau de concours. In McCallum’s hands, it came across as one of the composer’s more approachable offerings, a study in tonal levels, with an abundance of subtle sonic shifts and much trilling – a technically formidable piece which was commissioned as a compulsory item for those taking part in a recent Sydney International Piano Competition.

 

Schumann’s Fantasie in C, one of the composer’s most passionate utterances, was given a frankly disappointing, very uneven, performance with scatterings of inaccuracies and moments when momentum faltered as the soloist, playing from the score, seemed to be searching for notes.

 

In Liszt’s Ballade No 2, too, McCallum’s performance was marred at times by a less-than-total engagement with the music, with error-strewn moments that lay cheek by jowl with episodes in which there was a thrillingly virtuosic identification with the score. Yet more Liszt was no less uneven. Wilde Jagd is not for timid pianists and, on past form, one would have expected McCallum to take its hurdles in her stride but, as in the Ballade, the playing was uneven.


W.A.Symphony Orchestra

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Perth Concert Hall

 

 

 

reviewed by Neville Cohn

 

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Both Felix Mendelssohn and the TB-riddled Frederic Chopin tumbled off the twig before they turned 40. But they were mighty quick off the starting block. As teenagers, they both scaled Olympus: Mendelssohn’s Octet, heard here only the other day, was written at 16 – and Chopin’s Piano Concerto No 1 was completed when he was a mere19.

 

Alexander Gavrylyuk, no slouch himself – he won the Horowitz International Piano Competition when he was all of 15 years old – dazzled in music by both  Chopin and Mendelssohn at the Concert Hall at the weekend.

 

His account of the Chopin concerto was a marvel of musicianship: an imperious opening statement which gave way to wondrously expansive treatment of much of the opening movement. The nocturne-like slow movement was a model of refined expressiveness – and in the finale, fearless, infallible fingers wrought wonders in articulating the concerto’s villainously intricate solo part.

 

An audience that filled stalls, galleries and choir stalls to near-capacity could not contain its enthusiasm and burst into wild applause before the final bars of the concerto were played – unprecedented at a Master Series concert.

 

There was a sensational response with Gavrylyuk essaying Vladimir Horowitz’s horrendously demanding arrangement of Mendelssohn’s Wedding March. Here, those oh-so-familiar phrases were re-visited with such grandeur and brilliance that many in the audience rose spontaneously to their feet in acknowledgment of such pianistic wizardry. What a wonderful contribution towards this bicentenary year of Mendelssohn’s birth in 1809.

 

As curtain raiser, we heard a smartly detailed account of the overture to Rossini’s opera The Italian Girl in Algiers and, after the interval, Schubert’s Symphony No 9, known as The Great.

 

Of considerable length, the Ninth, in the wrong hands, can so easily sound  interminable. There was not a hint of that in Oleg Caetani’s direction of the piece. Clearly identifying closely with the score, which he conducted from memory, Caetani set and maintained tempi that ensured buoyancy of momentum. Occasionally, there was a need for the brass section to rein in its muscle-flexing to provide a more tonally discreet contribution – but this is a minor reservation about an interpretation made meaningful by close attention to detail without losing sight of the grand sweep of the work.


W.A.Piano Trio and friends

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Darlington Hall, Darlington

 

reviewed by Neville Cohn

 

One of Jon Tooby’s most cherished childhood memories is of attending concerts by the now-disbanded W.A.String Quartet at Darlington Hall. Tooby (a cellist in the W.A.Symphony Orchestra), his wife and two young daughters, live in Darlington in a house that borders on the primary school which he attended in the 1970s.

In 2003, Tooby, together with colleagues Semra Lee (violin) and Tommaso Pollio (piano), hatched a plan to form an ensemble – the W.A. Piano Trio – to present concerts in Darlington.

An immediate requirement was a piano in good condition. To kickstart a fund to purchase an instrument, Tooby organised a raffle, the first prize being a concert given by the trio at any venue nominated by the winner. It was hoped enough raffle money would come in to purchase a fair quality upright piano.

In 2004, the W.A.Piano Trio presented three programs. In the first concert, a borrowed upright piano was used. “But as news got out in the Darlington community of plans for further concerts as well as the need to buy a piano, local organisations made offers of financial support”, said Tooby. The Darlington Review, the Darlington Hall Restoration Fund, the Darlington Arts Festival as well as the Darlington Uniting Church (which held a very successful jumble sale) soon raised enough money to buy a Yamaha grand piano. It is kept in the hall in a specialised storage unit built by Tooby.

In 2005, five concerts were given and concertgoers, not only from the Hills but from as far away as Fremantle, thronged Darlington Hall.

There’s more to these events than just the music. Tooby says that “three wonderful ladies – Jane Arnold, Victoria Paul and Karen Harvey – volunteered to provide a sumptuous afternoon tea after each concert and this is now an integral part of our Darlington performances”.

And on a rain-sodden afternoon at the weekend, Darlington hall was the place to be. Crammed to capacity by chamber music enthusiasts, we heard double bass player Joan Wright in yet another performance of Tom Johnson’s Failing, a remarkably original little work which, over the years, has become inextricably associated with this fine musician. It’s no pushover.

It requires the soloist to natter away engagingly on the nature of failing while succeeding in playing increasingly tricky things on the double bass. It’s rather like patting your head while rubbing your tummy. It can be done but it’s really difficult to bring off successfully. Wright, though, does it wonderfully – and, as ever, she brought the house down.

Brett Dean’s Voices of Angels is music of a very much more serious stripe. Written for violin, viola, cello, double bass and piano, it is a powerful utterance that makes for disconcerting listening. Dean’s Angels are not exactly the consoling, light-drenched beings one usually thinks of as God’s messengers. On the contrary, one is assailed by insectivorous buzzings – and moans and sighs that conjure up images of grief-stricken, hand-wringing anguish. At times, there is about the work, with its frantic plucking of strings and violent tremolos, a barely concealed hysteria. It provides an utterly absorbing listening experience – but it is definitely not the sort of music to sit back and relax to; it is far too confronting for that.

But there was, after interval, a significant lightening of mood when the quintet – Semra Lee(violin), Brett Dean (viola), Jon Tooby (cello), Joan Wright (double bass) and Tommaso Pollio (piano) – essayed Schubert’s glorious Trout Quintet. If ever there was a composition of unalloyed joyfulness, it is this, as page after page of irrepressibly cheery and optimistic music filled the hall. It’s a work of some length – but played with such understanding that time flew by. Here was a performance that was the progeny of the happiest of musical marriages between a score of genius and deeply committed musicianship on the part of the players. Certainly, it was a reading that brought one very close to the central shrine of Schubert’s imagination.

This excellent chamber music series now draws so many people that consideration is being given to presenting each program twice. Not the least of the positive factors here is the venue’s first rate acoustic. And the Yamaha piano has a bright, clear tone and is in fine condition. It has its home in the main body of the hall, the players positioning themselves against one wall with seating arranged in semicircles around the performing area. The stage, set with wicker chairs, serves as a gallery.

After the performance, concertgoers repaired to an adjoining hall for afternoon tea shared with the musicians which helped make a pleasant event all that more convivial.

Copyright Neville Cohn 2006


Ben Martin (piano)

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Keyed-Up recital series

Octagon Theatre

reviewed by Neville Cohn

Ambrose Bierce, that most crotchety of commentators, once described the piano as an instrument played by “depressing the keys of the machine and the spirits of the audience”. But if, by some miracle of time travel, the long dead Bierce could have been present at Ben Martin’s recital, I’m sure he would have completely altered his dyspeptic view of the piano. Because, by even the most stringent of critical criteria, Martin’s recital in the Keyed-Up series could fairly be described as an uplifting listening experience.

His performance of Schubert’s Sonata in E flat was extraordinarily fine, so much so that there seemed to be far more to the performance than mere meaningful communication between musician and listener. On the contrary, the recital seemed an act of profound communion between pianist and composer – a rare phenomenon and all the more to be cherished for that.

For those who came to the recital in the hope of being dazzled by keyboard fireworks, the performance may have been something of a let down because this was a presentation devoid of conventional glib virtuosity and cheap appeals to the gallery. Instead, we heard a master pianist mining mostly quiet masterpieces for every imaginable, subtle nuance. Martin has at his disposal the means to coax a myriad pianissimo shadings from the instrument and they were employed in a magically musical way.

But there was much else on offer, too, not least a superb reading of Handel’s Suite No 1, the Prelude of which was informed by a quality of extemporisation that could hardly have been bettered. In passing: one wonders whether Saint Saens had the Prelude in mind while writing the first movement of his Piano Concerto in G minor: there are fascinating allusions to it in the keyboard’s utterance before the orchestra comes in for the first time.

Arnold Bax’s music is seldom heard. Many musicians tend to put it in the too-hard basket. Certainly, the Sonata in G sharp minor guards its secrets jealously. But, in his ability to reveal the Celtic demon that lurks behind the printed note, Martin is clearly privy to them all. In fact, the qualities of mind and heart brought to bear on the work were at such a level that it placed the critic in the pleasant predicament of having to do little other than to sit back and salute artistry of the highest order.

Also on the bill were short pieces by Delius and Vaughan Williams as well as Martin’s own Sonatine.

Copyright Neville Cohn 2006


The Magic of the Plucked String

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Jonathan Paget (guitar)
Stewart Smith (harpsichord)
Joshua Devlin (percussion)

Conservatorium Auditorium

 

reviewed by Neville Cohn 

Jonathan Paget

 

 

Many critics – or, perhaps, it might be more accurate to say that many arts editors – tend to turn their noses down at lunchtime concerts. True, there are the ever present – and very real – problems about available space on newspaper pages for such endeavours. Yet, these presentations, whether under the auspices of this or that university or church, often yield surprisingly high listening dividends. And there was a golden dividend available to those, regrettably few, who gathered at the Conservatorium Auditorium to listen to an all-Spanish program.

Prime focus of all ears was Rodrigo’s much loved Fantasia para un gentilhombre but here presented in a most unusual transcription for guitar, harpsichord and percussion. How, I wondered, would this sound? Would this be yet another unfortunate massacre of a masterpiece forced into some utterly inappropriate mould?

I listened with some apprehension but, within moments, my concerns evaporated as I listened with the utmost care. And as measure followed measure, I was converted utterly to this re-ordering of Rodrigo’s masterpiece. In fact, I cannot too highly praise both the work of those who arranged it and the musicians who breathed life into it at a performance that I shall not easily forget – and for all the best reasons.

Smith brought rare qualities of musical taste and refinement to his task. His contribution was a model of its kind. The same could be said of Paget’s performance, not least for the manner in which he made light of Rodrigo’s often excruciatingly demanding measures.

Throughout, both Paget and Smith shaped to the demands of the score like sangria to a goblet. Joshua Devlin did well, too, in the discreet part for percussion although initially perhaps a shade too tentative.

But looking around and seeing too many vacant seats, one might ask where the aficionados of the genre were, the sort who will break doors down to gain entrance to a recital by, say, John Williams, but remain indifferent to what is on their very doorstep – but then, Williams is now based abroad and so he can be thought of as ‘imported’ when visiting his homeland. Fie on these musical snobs. They were the losers in neglecting to attend this astonishingly fine performance.

Earlier, Paget did wonders in a transcription of Albeniz’s Sevilla. And Smith, who is as versatile as he is gifted, brought a fine sense of style to two early baroque organ pieces by de Santa Maria and de Arauxo.

This program had the stamp of distinction.

Copyright 2006 Neville Cohn