Nimble Tread

A Week in Review

I enjoyed three very pleasant nights at the Wigmore this week, first with Nicola Eimer and the Carducci String Quartet, then with Paul Lewis and Beethoven, and finally in the presence of Joyce DiDonato and accompanist-par-excellence, Julius Drake.  It was DiDonato's second visit to the Hall as part of what's hopefully becoming an annual appearance, and she presented a mixed bag that began in France with Bizet, worked its way through Italy courtesy of Rossini, and dropped anchor in Spain for a visit with Granados, de Falla, and Montsalvatge.  She and Drake make a good team: his heavy, pleasant style operates as an effective foil to her power and ebullience, and together the two are capable of getting in touch with aspects of the music that elude other duos.  Manuel de Falla's lullaby, Nana, was performed beautifully and sounded like an incantation, minimalistic and ethereal, which made it stand in sharp contrast with Polo, a tune DiDonato sang with her trademark firebrandy zip.  My favourite song of the evening was Xavier Montsalvatge's wonderfully-titled Cuba dentro de un piano (Cuba in a Piano).  It had the most remarkable lilting rhythm, and kept things interesting with a dissonant motif on the piano at the beginning of each phrase that Drake seemed very fond of.  And who could blame him?  The pair offered up Rossini's Canzonetta Spagnuola and Una voce poco fa as encores, both of which I'm sure DiDonato could sing in her sleep at this point, but still managed to keep exciting through a combination of technique and enthusiasm, both of which she possesses in spades and lets fly every time she takes the stage.  It's always nice to see a performer enjoying herself, and when that person can do the things DiDonato can do, well, then you've got something special on your hands. 

Mixed Strings

The Emerson String Quartet has been touring in support of its recent Beethoven Late Quartets album, and stopped by the Wigmore  Hall to perform the cycle over the course of two evenings.  I couldn't make the first concert, but was in the audience for the second, in which the group played Op. 132 in A minor and Op. 135 in F major, along with the Grosse Fugue, Op. 133.  It's no secret that the Quartets are extremely difficult to play well, and the Emerson were kind enough to prove the point by offering a sadly inconsistent performance.  I overheard a man in the audience saying that he loved the music, but found the playing to be too cold for his tastes, a sentiment that I understand, but with which I don't entirely agree.  To my ear, the group's warmth of tone was its chief virtue, and lent the evening a patina of the old fashioned; I think a better description of the band's performance would be to call it flat.  There were very few instances during the concert where the music crackled, or rang out in perfect harmony, and rather than leaning forward in suspense, I found myself doing so in hopes of better picking out distinct voices in the group.  The violins were reasonably clear, but the viola and cello were a muddle more often than not, and I think much of the trouble stemmed from sonic overlap rather than impurity of tone.   There were quite a few instances where I completely lost track of the music's pulse, and even more instances where I felt the group's members were out of sync with one another.  This was particularly clear in Op. 135's vivace second movement, where the syncopation came across as more of a hitch in the music's giddy-up than as a volley between voices.   

Another strange feature was Philip Setzer's rubato during the Heiliger Danksgesang movement of Op. 132.  Rather than stretch the first violin's phrases, he frequently came in early, thereby making the music feel off-kilter and producing the unsettling effect of the soprano voice tipping over, which was disastrous to the overall line of one of the most beautiful legato movements in the entire repertoire.   It was all the more disappointing for having come from Setzer, who is a terrific violinist and possessed of a wonderfully buttery technique perfect for legato passages.  He did a nice job with the better part of the quartet, and I hope that his timing on the recording, which I haven't heard yet, is less rushed.

It's hard to say whether the Emerson boys were ill-prepared or just worn out, but my inclination is to primarily go with the latter.   They seemed tired, and their playing naturally reflected their feelings.  The Grosse Fugue felt phoned in, and though it pepped up at times, particularly in its last twenty or so bars, it was hardly an inspired effort.   Another detail that seems to support the fatigue hypothesis is the disjunct presentation of the pieces' fortissimo sections.   The crescendos were back-loaded and one got the impression that the group was trying to gear itself up for a big noise, which, when it came, seemed to jump out of nowhere in a forced burst of energy.  A good example of what I mean came towards the end of the first movement of Op. 132, where the dynamics make a quick expansion from piano to forte in the recapitulation.  As it was performed, the change was done virtually without crescendo and felt very rough.   It's hard to swoop up through a clean, quick attack, and I just don't think the group had the energy to do it.  Too bad, but I suppose everyone's entitled to an off night now and again. 

Benchwarmers

News from the Barbican re. this Saturday's concert: Susan Graham out; Sarah Connolly in.  With Bryn Terfel having replaced Thomas Hampson last week, we're left with exactly none of the featured artists originally scheduled to sing in this concert.  Mighty peculiar, wouldn't you say?

Spring

You know spring is in the air when bloggers begin to discuss wedding music.  The gang at Dial "M" for Musicology has devoted some space to recommendations for nuptial numbers, and have included a video clip of Glen Gould playing Beethoven's Bagatelle No.3 Op.126 to get everyone in the mood.  Matthew Guerrieri at Soho the Dog has posted two delightful clips of Fyodor Khitruk's late-60s/early-70s take on Winnie-the-Pooh, Vinni-Pukh, and has flanked them with his usual top shelf commentary.  He's also linked to a video of Dave McKelvy playing Chopin's Minute Waltz on the harmonica, which I realize isn't necessarily spring-specific, but  certainly feels appropriate to today's weather, which, as it stands, is a balmy 17 degrees Celsius in the Metrop. 
I spent last night at a friend's house listening to Carlo Rizzi discuss the Welsh National Opera's upcoming production of Verdi's Falstaff, which the conductor described as Verdi's masterpiece and quickly added, "but we can discuss that if you'd like."  I wouldn't like.  It's a terrific opera, and all the more so for having been penned so late in the composer's life.  Arrigo Boito's libretto is something of a marvel in itself, and is doubtless one of the greatest adaptations of Shakespeare's plays in the repertoire.  His use of language -- particularly the formal idiom that issues from the mountainous Falstaff -- is ingenious, and so musical in its syntax that one can actual hear tunes issue from the libretto itself.  Let's not forget, after all, that Boito was himself a composer, and while his Mefistofele was hardly on the level of Verdi, he was no slouch, and in fact directed the Parma Conservatoire for a decade in the late 19th-century.   And if it weren't for his pestering Verdi to put down the pruning shears in the 1880s, we might never have had Otello and Falstaff, and that would have been a shame.
  On a related note, Bryn Terfel -- who's gone some way towards establishing himself as today's leading Falstaff and will be singing the part in the WNO's production -- has agreed to fill in for Thomas Hampson this week and will partner Susan Graham in her March 17th concert at the Barbican.  The programme looks great, with Mozart and Wagner at its core and Rossini, Glinka, Tchaikovsky, Berlioz, and Strauss all lending a hand.  Here's a clip of Graham and Simon Keenlyside singing Dorabella and Guglielmoto's duet from Act II of Cosi fan tutte to whet your appetite.

The Ivory Tickler

I've spent the last few hours listening to Marc-André Hamelin's remarkable 2000 recording of Godowsky's studies on Chopin etudes, and, as is typically the case with my Hamelin encounters, I came away in awe.  The man is really something, and you'll all be happy to know he'll be on hand at the Wigmore on March 9th and 10th, playing a smattering of Bach, Mozart, Webern, Brahms, Mahler, Eisler, and Schoenberg with the Leopold String Trio.  Amazingly, there are still tickets to be had, so if you act quickly you can experience the concerts rather than read about them.