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Phillip McCann (Cornet) & Simon Lindley (piano & organ).…

  • by danpotts

Brass instruments are associated with the brass bands of heavy industries, many of which have now disappeared. In many particular instances only the bands remain. Originally the brass bands were set up in association with collieries, factories etc. in order to divorce music from drink. A sober workforce was a more productive workforce. This paternal attitude can be felt to grate somewhat. Given this sentiment, there was a happy revelation on Monday lunchtime. Dr. Lindley reflected dryly on Phillip McCann’s fortitude in performing at that time. The colliery brass band that he directs had got through to the national finals the previous night. However, his performance at the town hall bore no traces of the Bacchanalia at which Lindley hinted. Indeed, it was an uplifting and refreshing treat.

A Hunsberger arrangement of Levy’s Grand Russian Fantasia was the musical greeting. Grandiose, Romantic chords on the piano full of very Russian, mediant shifts introduced the cornet. The liquid chrystal tone of the instrument was charming. In between the occasional, agitated piano interlude what sounded like a Russian dance was heard. McCann showed his mettle with great talent as the melody became more virtuosic and triple tonguing (rapid passages of short notes) was applied. Dynamic contrasts were subtle and the piece was finely balanced rhythmically. It was in the next piece that the tone and timbre of the instrument shone. Unfamiliar as I was with the individual sound of the cornet, what impressed most was  its humility and modesty compared with that of the trumpet. Both qualities were highly appropriate in Himes’s All that I am. We were moved to hear that the piece was composed by Himes on hearing that his wife had fallen ill. Profound sentiment was expressed, which taken with the context, spoke of duty. Following the depth of this piece came playful, light relief as Lindley performed solo Binge’s Miss Melanie on the organ. ‘Um-cha’ interplay underpinned a cheeky melody full of unexpected shifts.

A piece mimicking birdsong from the Thuringian forest came next by Hoch: Sing Vogelchen aus dem  Thuringerwald. Pleasing for the harmonic simplicity, well-balanced cornet trills followed melodic call and response where the response was muted – the birds in the forest were communicating ata distance. The piano accompaniment was highly varied – at times grand chords rang out only to be followed in other interludes with arpeggiated chords. An organ solo followed the birdsong – Howells’ Rhapsody IV in C. This sounded very angular and square harmonically because it was polytonal and modal. There was much impressive thrashing about by Lindley in this piece as he altered the organ stops and depressed the pedals. This was a sight to behold! The power of the town hall organ was shown off in the extreme here because the loudest stop was used. 

Then came a very familiar piece on the cornet with piano accompaniment: Aria con Variazioni. The well-known tune for this piece was that of the ‘Harmonious Blacksmith’. As the title suggests, the tune was repeated a  number of times but varied each time. This allowed McCann to show off again as the variations became more involved and rapid. A soothing, much slower organ solo composed by Sowerby followed to calm us all down.

A piece by Rance and arranged by Bulla came next: The Reason. With some jazz harmonies and in triple time the piece was higly reminiscent of a music hall song. Graceful passages on the cornet were supported with rhythmic spruceness on the piano. The Last Rose of Summer was the next offering, arranged by Hunsberger. This is a traditional Irish folk-song –  not the sort of thing I would usually associate with cornet and piano. However, here the modesty of the timbre was extremely effective in a very moving execution. Nevin’s Will O’ the Wisp was the organ solo that followed. A playful, light piece in which a rapid, running, continuous melody soothed and charmed in a flutey timbre. Typical of the programs at the town hall lunchtime concerts, this contrasted with the previous piece – you never get bored at these recitals. Lindley stayed put at the organ for the next cornet solo: The Old Rugged Cross by Bernard/Leidzen. This was a Salvation Army number. Funnily enough, again,  it sounded a lot like a musical hall song as with The Reason, which was also a Salvation Army song. Could there be a connection here?

With piano accompaniment the concert closed on Koenig’s Post Horn Galop. Here the cornet was dispensed with and a Post Horn was produced – a long, thin, metal tube reminiscent of a ‘yard of ale’. An extremely rapid, triple tonguing virtuoso display ended the concert with audacity.

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Opera North: Otello. Verdi. Grand Theatre, Leeds.

  • by danpotts

The Grand Theatre stands on Upper Briggate. As one of the jewels in the city’s crown it is easy to imagine that this temple for cultural ceremony might invoke feelings of jealousy in neighbouring metropolitan inhabitants. In this light it seems rather appropriate that it should house Verdi’s interpretation of Othello, in which jealousy is teased out centre-stage. However, where mild, inter-city rivalry is used mainly as a source for light, civic humour, the emotion depicted on stage was profoundly sinister. The villain of the piece is Iago (David Kempster), who, having had his chances for promotion thwarted by Otello’s favourite, Cassio (Michael Wade Lee), seeks to bring him down along with the ‘Lion of Venice’ himself. Iago convinces Otello, with great cunning, of his wife, Desdemona’s (Elena Kelessidi) infidelity with Cassio. The end result is that Otello (Ronald Samm) murders Desdemona, and then, on discovering the falsity of his suspicions, commits suicide.

Samm convinced of one in torment with much head clasping and energised outbursts of suppressed rage. His body language imparted the extreme emotional shifts to and from trusting tenderness and the writhing distress of paranoia. Vocally he was extremely powerful and was never overpowered by the orchestra. This lent greater impact to the outbursts of paranoia and jealous fury along with stentorian affirmations of authority. He had great presence and charisma. When giving vent to such negative, unattractive sentiment a peculiar mode of expression was employed: he did not apply vibrato in the extremity of his upper register. This gave the most apparently heartfelt, high-pitched expressions a more tortured feel. It is not clear whether this was an intended technique or an incapacity. In the Love Duet it was inappropriate. Neverless, it was at least a highly effective method for conveying torment.

As for the tormentor, Kempster’s interpretation spoke well of Iago’s cynicism and bitterness. Breaking the fourth wall in soliloquy, his hatred of Otello was clearly stated with great venom. Here, Verdi makes him a devotee of Satan. Kempster’s vocal performance was finely controlled and sinister with sonorous and vindictive masculinity. A laudable detail in the production compounded his role of manipulator: at one point he stands high above a tormented Otello looking through a window as though he were a literal puppeteer. Kempster resisted well the pitfall of becoming comic or pantomimic, not only with the convincing and well-controlled vocal expressions of bitterness, but with his authoritative presence.

It was a real treat to hear Elena Kelessidi. In the love duet, she seemed to strike the balance beautifully between passion and sweetness, and that old-fashioned sort of uxurial dutifulness. What came across as great control and sensitivity of interpretation was most evident in the ‘Hail Mary’ where devotion and humility were imparted with grace. This finely executed aria warranted applause, and many in the audience attempted it. However, it would seem that Otello is a Verdi opera composed in his later years and therefore there was no room for it. This was not one of those Verdi operas that progresses with clear lines drawn between arias and intervening choruses and recitatives. And in the orchestral accompaniment to the arias there was no foot-tapping ‘um cha’ interplay. The music was much more flowing and continuous (possibly reflecting the influence of Wagner).

However, this musical continuity without punctuation was highly effective as a way of creating a sense of oppressive claustrophobia – there was no escape from Otello’s mental torment. The sense of claustrophobic, jealous paranoia was heightened by wonderful lighting, costume and the set. The overall impression was of coolness brought with the general blue colouring, creating an.oppressive feeling of corporate sterility. It is possible that this contrived effect was the result of the influence of cinematography. The historical context lent to the production was the Mediterranean around the time of the Second World War. This worked well as a piece of historical context – nothing in the libretto jarred with it. Choruses raised the hair on the back of the neck with great power over an orchestra that unfalteringly supported a production full of darkness.

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Leeds College of Music. The Venue. Leeds.

  • by danpotts

In recent times, Hallowe’en has slowly been catching on as an event somewhat divorced in meaning from the original Pagan celebration, which was perhaps rooted in the Celtic ‘Samhain’. Related to the end of Summer and the harvest festival, some believe it to have originally involved the  stock-taking of supplies in preparation for the winter. Now, it has expanded beyond children’s apple-bobbing into an excuse for adults to carouse and revel; and, of course, there are commercial advantages. This gradual expansion of the festival into what, perhaps, one day, will be granted a bank holiday, owes its germination to the influence of American culture. How appropriate then, that the musical programme at The Venue, Leeds College of Music, on Wednesday 31st had its particular origins in the music of the Americas. A happy consequence of the influence of North American, economic and cultural expansionism, and through this influence the amplification of South American culture, the work performed spoke of diversity and was considerably contrasting. The featured performers were Michael Ladley on the flute, and Declan Forde on the piano. Both are alumni of Leeds College of Music.

Ladley was accompanied by pianist, Angela Lloyd-Mostyn, whose interpretation and accommodation spoke of perfectionsim. Their Latin American offering was Mower’s ‘Sonata Latino’. In the first movement – Salsa Montunate – Ladley ‘s unaccompanied, bare, staccato introduction arrested the ear, which was satisfied by the piano entry of bare, salsa, rhythmic reinforcement. This sense was compounded when the accompaniment was fleshed out harmonically. Occasional melodically convoluted and energetic flute runs were reflected competitively by the piano in a sort of call-and-response battle of complexity: technically, most impressive. Fine phrasing, expressive of the merriment of the dance, was sculpted through well blended dynamic contrasts with infinitessimally tight rhythmic execution. Extended instrumental technique came in form of piano string hand-dampening and tonguing on the flute. This section provided extra rhythmic sharpness but seemed slightly unbalanced. A more meditative portion toward the close of the movement saw soloist and accompanist in unison.

The second movement was a Rumbango. The unaccompanied, rubato flute introduction spoke meanderingly, without resolution, of uncertainty, anxiety and fear. This was highly effective. Resolution came with the piano entry, which maintained syncopated regularity throughout the movement, often incorporatting a spooky descending seventh figure. Sustained passages, at times lugubrious, were intersprersed with well executed, complex, energised agitiation. A comically simple, and more positive, ending amused for its impertinence.

We had a Bossa Merengova for the third movement. Fortunately for the assembled, the impulse to dance did not overwhelm this reviewer. Regularity in the accompaniment made the journey through partial cycles of fifths with a descending element below excellent, neuron-firing complexity performed with great accuracy in the flute. Toward the close the main theme returned with arpeggiated, descending harmonic sketches in the piano. The rhythmic and melodic execution combined to produce highly expressive phrasing, which accommodated graceful dynamic contrasts.

Following our foray into South America we made substantial inroads into the North with two jazz piano duets. As mentioned, Declan Forde was featured. On the other piano was none other than Les Chisnall. Their first piece was an arrangement of ‘For all we know (we may never meet again’ by Coots & Lewis. The root and fifth neutality of the initial ostinato with sustain slowly set the pace of the piece and gradually introduced the full arpeggiation. Highly expressive dynamics pierced the room at times. Although fairly sparse and Impressionistic the power of the semitonal shifts in the jazz harmony imparted a strong sense of melancholic nostalgia with a tincture of hope. Perfect and  complimentary synchronisation allowed for well measured and balanced dynamic contrasts compounding the expressiveness of the rhythmic execution. A passage near the close became somewhat contrapuntal evoking a degree of formality and was extended with regular one-note repetitions. The decay of the sustained chord at the end of the piece might have been prolongued further owing to the sense of emotional gravity.

Next came ‘Body and Soul’ by Green. Chisnalll began with irregular dissonces, rhythmically spikey and with no apparent resolution forthcoming. With a sense of atonality this became more agitated. For a brief moment, Forde broke the feeling of uncertainty with a running, chromatic passage. Forde’s following entries seemed to be a sort of additive ostinato as Chisnall increased the sense of unresolved uncertainty with dissonant attacks. This was a graceful expression of uncertainty and, perhaps, anxiety. Eventually, a degree of anchoring was introduced with two-note alternating regularity, highly expressive of polytonal, sparse meanderings. What had become a regular ostinato (or riff) might be seen to have been to suggest the titular, bodily housing of the soul – and by no means a harmonious coupling – although the original piece was sensible for the most part. The unresolved uncertainty became more tranquil toward the close with suspensions gradually resolving more and more. A sense of inner peace, gracefully executed and paced, was the extemely moving end result. A highly expressive and moving journey rendered with great measure.