Strasbourg Philharmonic Orchestra, Bristol Beacon ★★★★☆
Live differently. French orchestras do indeed sound French; Thanks to the French government’s plan to support orchestras that want to fly the flag abroad, we can enjoy this pleasure from time to time in this country. The visitors currently on tour are more than 80 players from Strasbourg’s flagship orchestra, which is often said to be German as well as French. It sounded completely French to my ears, and not only because the music he played was mostly of local production. It was a combination of clarity and sensuality, as well as good taste – though the evening, in a deep dive into Russian romanticism, was inspired by Rachmaninov’s World War II novel.And The Piano Concerto performed by soloist Nikolai Lugansky proved that French polish and romantic fullness can coexist.
This particular French quality was displayed at the end of Berlioz’s opening piece, the Roman Carnival overture. Finally, the Roman festivities reach a delirious climax; This moment is normally a moment when the air breaks. But not here. Chef Marko Letonja held them back. The result was a rich, properly balanced sound that was more satisfying than a crude boom.
There was more tasteful and elegant playing in Le Chasseur Maudit by the great organist-composer of the 19th century.ThisCentury France César Franck brought out the strange Gothic colors of this depiction of the hapless hunter. The most elegant of all was Ravel’s Mother Goose suite; a series of fairytale scenes that unfold with truly heartbreaking tenderness. Particularly good were the oboist Sébastien Giott in the interesting dance of the Pagoda Empress and the clarinetist Sébastien Koebel in the very distant and ancient waltz of Beauty and the Beast. When Marko Letonja started the final chapter, The Fairy Garden, in a trance state, my first reaction was “Hmm, too slow.” Eventually he and the players convinced me that it was true.
In the final work of the program, Ravel’s La Valse, the progression from the slightly ominous darkness to the sparkle and champagne of the great waltz melody was beautifully calibrated. Only the perfectly controlled ending disappointed. One must feel that an abyss is calling to oneself in those delirious final moments.
But that wasn’t all. Amidst all this sensuous sparkle was a much-loved piece of Russian romanticism: Rachmaninov’s World War II.And Piano Concerto. Russian pianist Lugansky achieved great worldwide fame in Russian romantic music, and he truly seemed born to play this piece. He took the stage with a taciturn, almost world-weary air, refusing to make this piece palatable to the swooning crowd as it so often does. The deep bass notes at the beginning seemed to emerge from the grave, and the contrasting melody was intimate enough to evoke something tender yet painful.
The most impressive moment was when Lugansky began the finale with tremendous, unrelenting solemnity; The most impressive of these came in the slow movement, where the slow unfurling of the melody in the pianist’s right hand intertwined with the caressing undulation of the clarinet. The soloist may get the star prize, but it’s usually a moving dialogue with an orchestral player that clinches the performance.
He will perform at Cadogan Hall again this evening; cadoganhall.com
Braimah Kanneh-Mason and Plínio Fernandes, Jazz Café ★★★★☆
It’s easy to feel like history has declared “Time’s up” for classical music. The Arts Council seems to actively disparage this, audiences’ hair is growing grayer and life is becoming so difficult for musicians that most musicians are leaving the field or moving to Germany, where the powers that be actually care about the art form.
But it’s not all gloom. Beyond the concert hall, there are green shoots of life in places you wouldn’t expect to find them; bars, clubs, disused car parks. A new breed of promoter has emerged, eager to appeal to a younger audience. One of the boldest of these is to introduce a year-round touring season of “noise nights”, that is, classical music played by small groups in “grassroots venues”.
It was a night of noise on Wednesday at the Jazz Café, the famous venue in north London known for its presentation of world-shattering blues and funk musicians. I spent many happy evenings there, listening to Sun Ra or Roy Ayers on the upstairs balcony, or enjoying the cafe’s delicious food among the swaying fans in the mosh pit, where you nearly passed out from the heat.
Given the nature of the venue, you might expect a classic night of noise concert to be extremely minimalist, even a bit “out there”. What we heard from cellist Braimah Kanneh-Mason and Brazilian guitarist Plínio Fernandes was music with such a light nostalgia and Latin charm that it would not be missing in the Savoy tearoom.
Braimah is the latest musician from Britain’s famous Kanneh-Mason clan of musicians; this clan includes the piano-playing sisters Isata and Jeneba and, most famously, the cellist Sheku. It soon became clear that Braimah had the same understated charm and meticulous musicianship that distinguished his brethren, with a sweet tone and rapid vibrato that took me back to the violinists of the pre-war era. In Bach’s Double of B minor solo Partita (a curiously understated choice), he varied the even arrangement of notes just enough to give them rhythmic life.
Her onstage partner, Fernandes, demonstrated an energizing rhythmic swing in the Piazzolla dance pieces, but also accomplished lyrical flair in two Brazilian numbers, Gracias a la Vida by Violetta Para and Xodó Da Baiana by Dilermando Reis. He was also an alert accompanist; In Paganini’s Cantabile he slowed the tempo almost imperceptibly to make room for Kanneh-Mason’s elegant and discreet slides.
The young crowd embraced it all and screamed enthusiastically after each number. With the addition of Dutch cellist Hadewych van Gent, the duo’s mood became more thoughtful. They played a longing Serbian folk song by Latvian composer Peteris Vasks, evoking the flat Baltic landscape, and most of all Ernst Bloch’s Prayer, which evokes a Jewish tone. It was extraordinary to witness this sweaty dance space fall silent and be enveloped in ancient melancholy.
To finish the set, Fernandes and Kanneh-Mason treated us to one last burst of virtuosity in the music of Sarasate and Manuel de Falla, sending us all out into the rainy Camden night with a spring in our steps. IH
For details on Fernandes and Kanneh-Mason’s remaining tour dates and noise nights, visit: throughthenoise.co.uk