Category Archives: Live Performance

University of Western Australia Choral Society

Winthrop Hall

 

reviewed by Neville Cohn

Listening to that most ecstatic of motets – Exultate Jubilate – invariably calls to mind Dvorak’s comment that Mozart is sunshine. Even the words of the motet suggest radiance, such as fulget amica dies which means “the friendly, happy day shines forth”. And soprano Katja Webb very effectively captured the happy essence of the writing in an all-Mozart concert to mark the 250th anniversary of his birth. Vocal tone, other than some notes in the lower register where some power was lost, carried effectively to the furthest corner of Winthrop Hall. Occasionally, though, some notes in rapid vocal passagework were not as clearly defined as one might have hoped.

Mozart’s great motet was heard in the context of a larger work – the Coronation Mass. Here, conductor John Beaverstock demonstrated once again that in his choice of tempi, he has the happy knack of setting a pace that is both appropriate and manageable. This was especially so in the Gloria during which Beaverstock coaxed from his choral forces responses of great intensity. And the Credo, too, came across, as it should, as a mighty affirmation, an impression reinforced by an emphatic, unflagging beat. Laurels to the trombones here. The opening measures of the Sanctus were like a blaze of light, the University of W.A.Choral Society sounding at its best here. And alto Sarah Dougiamas was in fine form in the Agnus Dei.

The choir was altogether convincing in Ave Verum in which Beaverstock succeeded in maintaining a sense of onward momentum at slow speed, a feat of commendable musicianship. But the mood so carefully generated was largely ruined by latecomers thoughtlessly – and with noisy footsteps – wandering around the hall which begs the question: why are latecomers admitted mid-work?

After the interval, choral intonation proved problematical in Dixit Dominus and the Magnificat from Vesperae Solennes. One longed here for greater clarity of inner vocal lines.

2006 is the 75th anniversary year of the UWA Choral Society, a notable milestone for an ensemble that has brought a wealth of new music as well as established classics to the city, much of it during the stewardship of the late Sir Frank Callaway. Among first performances given in the city under Callaway’s direction were those of Verdi’s Requiem, Vaughan Williams’ Sea Symphony and Beethoven’s Choral Symphony. Another conductor under whose direction the Society flourished was John Winstanley. The Society’s next concert takes place in October and will focus on music by Western Australian composers including emeritus professor David Tunley and Dom Moreno of New Norcia. Full details are available on the choir’s website www.uwacs.com.au

Copyright 2006


Daniel Kossov (violin)

Timothy Young (piano)

Government House Ballroom

reviewed by Neville Cohn

Beethoven’s Sonata in A, opus 47 is one of the most powerfully dramatic works in the repertoire for violin and piano. Better known as the Kreutzer Sonata, it was dedicated to violinist Rodolphe Kreutzer who is nowadays most remembered for his villainously taxing violin studies and who never got round to playing Beethoven’s masterpiece.

Its seething emotions have triggered creativity in others: Janacek’s String Quartet No 1 is subtitled The Kreutzer Sonata – and famed Russian writer Leo Tolstoy gave the name to his famous short story about murderous jealousy.

koss

The Beethoven work was far and away the most satisfying offering in a recital by Daniel Kossov (making a welcome return visit to the city) and Timothy Young whose artistry at the keyboard makes him constantly in demand as a piano partner.

The Kreutzer Sonata doesn’t often appear on recital programs. Its unforgiving difficulties call for a cool head, an iron nerve and the stamina of an Olympic athlete. On all counts, Kossov and Young came up trumps, not least in relation to tonal balance which had not been as equitable as one would have hoped in the first half of the program in which at times, piano tone was too dominant in relation to the violin line. But in the Beethoven sonata, the duo could not be faulted on these grounds.

The imperiousness and virility that are the essence of much of the first movement came across strongly notwithstanding the occasional flaw. But then, who climbs Mount Everest without stubbing a toe on the way?

Musicianship of high order informed every measure of the slow movement. The light-hearted buoyancy of variation one was gauged to a nicety and the near-ethereal, finely spun trills that are the prevailing feature of the concluding variation could hardly have been bettered.

In the finale, the duo brought unflagging, spring-heeled fleetness to some of the most treacherous measures the master ever wrote. This was, in the best sense, a wild ride in which the smallest miscalculation could have brought the performance to grief but from which both Kossov and Young emerged with honour intact to a storm of deserved applause.

A fascinating compilation included that rarity: Hindemith’s eminently approachable Sonata in E flat from opus 11. In less than expert hands, the first movement can wither embarrassingly on the vine. Not so here, in a reading that allowed extroversion on the part of the piano and the violin’s lyrical, emotionally probing line to register strongly on the consciousness. I particularly liked the piano’s simulation of a tolling bell in the second movement and the eeriness of mood summoned up by the violin.

Dvorak’s engagingly melodious and folksy Sonatina in G was disappointing with violin tone often far too discrete and piano tone overbearing suggesting that at the opening of the recital neither musician had taken the full measure of the venue’s acoustics.

But a bracket of rarities by Aaron Copland was pure delight. Here, there was fine internal tonal balance in two arrangements for violin and piano of extracts from the score of cowboy ballet Billy the Kid: the Waltz with its quaintly wistful charms and Celebration, memorable for its whining double stopping and jazzy measures from the piano, both pieces preceded by a quite exquisitely dreamlike Nocturne.

Collectors of music trivia might be interested to know that both Copland and Billy were born in New York’s Brooklyn.

As encore, we heard Dvorak’s evergreen Humoresque.

Copyright 2006 Neville Cohn


Graeme Gilling/Jana Kovar/Mark Coughlan (pianos)

Conservatorium Auditorium

reviewed by Neville Cohn

It would have been surprising if any of the audience gathered to hear Bruch’s Concerto for two pianos had ever heard the work before – or even heard of its existence. Although it is available on an EMI LP, very few seem to be aware of its existence.

Graeme Gilling gave a fascinating little prefatory talk in which he explained that Bruch’s concerto had been written on commission for a piano duo – sisters Ottilie and Rose Sutro in the USA. But due to irreconcilable disputes about the concerto between composer and the duo, the work had never been performed by the commissioners.

After the death of the duo, their assets were auctioned. Among these was a box containing miscellaneous scores with the original manuscript of the concerto among them which, incidentally, revealed literally hundreds of amendments to Bruch’s original.

This lunchtime performance would almost certainly have been the first public airing of the work in Australia albeit in a version for three pianos, the third for a keyboard reduction of the orchestral score and played by Mark Coughlan.

The sheer novelty of this offering ensured the closest attention. On the basis of a first hearing, though, one is left with the impression that the concerto’s chequered history is vastly more engrossing than the piece itself.

It is a frankly tedious, vast repository of musical cliches, a work brimming with fanfares, scales and arpeggios, much of it written in a way that makes it difficult to master in physical terms and – based on a first hearing – devoid of memorable melody. In fairness, it may well sound more meaningful when heard with orchestral accompaniment – although the cosmic dullness that this version for three pianos engenders does not augur well.

Earlier, Kovar and Gilling played Percy Grainger’s Blithe Bells.

Copyright Neville Cohn 2006


Fremantle Chamber Orchestra

Rudolf Koelman, violin

Fremantle Town Hall

reviewed by Neville Cohn

 

I cannot imagine a more striking event to bring music at Eastertide to a close than a frankly magnificent account of George Conus’ Violin Concerto.

Arriving in the city almost unheralded, Rudolf Koelman, who was for some years concertmaster of the Concertgebouw, Amsterdam and one of Heifetz’s last pupils, proved himself a prince of the violin. In what might possibly have been the Australian premiere of the Conus concerto, Koelman left no one in any doubt of his superb gifts.

Conus, incidentally, who was born in Moscow and died there as recently as 1933, is nowadays a largely forgotten man due, perhaps, to never having developed a strikingly original compositional style. His concerto, of which Heifetz was a ardent champion, sounds as if it might have been written under the strong influence of Tchaikowsky. One has only to listen to the opening measures of his Violin Concerto to realise how strikingly they call to mind the introduction to the older man’s Piano Concerto No 1.

Koelman, who plays a fine Pressenda fiddle dating from 1829 and is entirely worthy of it, brought infallible accuracy and agility on the fingerboard, a sublime bowing technique – and very real musicianship – to his performance. Beautifully controlled double stopping was another fine feature of a performance of enviable finesse, presented in the grandest of grand manners. Bravo!

As curtain raiser, we heard Mozart’s early Symphony in G minor K183 with Jessica Gethin presiding over events. A clear-cut and unfussy beat coaxed a consistently disciplined response to the first movement. Here was a stylish performance that bristled with vitality.

If there were some minor intonational lapses in the slow movement, this might well have been due to the distraction provided by latecomers impatiently and rudely knocking on the hall doors. I very much liked the quality of the woodwind choir in the trio section of the Minuet. Small lapses notwithstanding, this was a most pleasingly meaningful account of one of Mozart’s finest early symphonies.

KoelmanHearing this orchestra which consists, inter alia, of well-above-average teenage musicians and a sprinkling of older instrumentalists was revelatory. If this performance is indicative of the standards that the FCO routinely brings to its concerts, then it is a major addition to the city’s music scene. It deserves support and, if the size and enthusiasm of the audience for this concert are anything to go by, the FCO is certainly receiving it.

Copyright 2006 Neville Cohn


Requiem (Mozart)

Collegium Musicum

St Jospeh’s Church, Subiaco

reviewed by Neville Cohn

It says much for the persuasiveness of the singing of Collegium Musicum and accompanying orchestra that, for the duration of Mozart’s setting of the Requiem Mass for the Dead, one forgot how comfortlessly hard and unyielding the pews of St Joseph’s Church, Subiaco are.

Under the unflappable guidance of Margaret Pride, the Requiem unfolded in the most powerfully communicative of ways. In the opening Requiem aeternam, Dr Pride set an unusually slow pace which allowed this achingly poignant music to register most powerfully on the consciousness. Certainly, maintaining a sense of momentum at very slow speed was a remarkable feat of musicianship on the part of all concerned. And the skill with which the fugal writing of the Kyrie was essayed approached the magnificent.

Here, and throughout, the accompanying instrumental ensemble had the very real advantage of leadership from Paul Wright. Its account of the Dies Irae was electrifying in its intensity, to which the choir responded as if galvanised.

There were some fleeting problems with vocal intonation in parts of Tuba mirum.

The opening of the Sanctus was the sonic equivalent of a blaze of light but Hosanna in the Benedictus needed more emphatic treatment.

Uniformity of tonal sheen from the strings made the concluding pages of the work, in particular, all the more satisfying to hear. Throughout, Catherine Cahill and Ashley Smith brought a touch of distinction to the basset horn parts.

As ever, St Joseph’s first-rate acoustics allowed both the Requiem and Bach’s Christ lag in Todesbanden BWV4 to be heard to best advantage.

Copyright 2006 Neville Cohn