Arensky CO/Kunhardt - Wagner, 2 June 2016

Oak Room, The Hospital Club, London

Siegfried-Idyll

Selection from Götterdämmerung (arr. Iain Farrington)

Arensky Chamber Orchestra

William Kunhardt (conductor)

 

Since its founding concert, held in another, rather different London club, the Arensky Chamber Orchestra has done things differently. That has not, I think, been for the sake of it, although novelty certainly does no harm in having one noticed, but because difference, by its essence, has perhaps helped it do things more ‘conventional’ ensembles might not, has perhaps helped it reach slightly different audiences, and perhaps also because different locations, not always concert halls, perhaps make one think about music differently.

Here, at the Hospital Club in Covent Garden, we heard Wagner’s Siegfried-Idyll, and towards its end were served with mushroom canapés. The ACO’s music director then introduced us to the music from Götterdämmerung by reading us to a story-book-like account of the action interspersed with musical examples from the orchestra. We were then treated with a cocktail, ‘Siegfried’s Fate’ – what a pity Hans von Wolzogen did not open a bar! – before hearing a skilfully made continuous selection from the grandest of all musical denouements.  

 

The Siegfried-Idyll was lovingly played. Kunhardt spoke of his own love for the music and added that it was a favourite of the players too; there was no difficulty in imagining that from the performance we heard. There was a considerable degree of rubato, especially to begin with, but it convinced. A chamber sound – one really heard the music as a string quartet at the opening – was very much what we heard; although it most certainly was, it rarely sounded ‘conducted’. It seems invidious to single anyone out, but I was especially taken by the contributions from the flautist and the first violist. String playing in particular, perhaps partly on account of the intimacy of the venue, came across in powerfully physical fashion; one could almost feel the contact of bow with string. This was a well-shaped performance throughout, not afraid to linger, yet without exaggeration.

It has perhaps not irrelevant to mention that Iain Farrington is Arranger-in-Residence (wonderful title!) to the Aurora Orchestra, for the ACO shows much of that ensemble’s enterprise. They certainly took to an arrangement from Götterdämmerung, which incorporated more of the action within its relatively brief span – I am afraid I cannot tell you how long – than I should have thought possible. It is in the nature of listeners to moan about what is or is not included in such selections; I shall try to resist that temptation, for Farrington even managed to give us a little of Hagen’s call to the Vassals, despite the greater part of his attentions having been devoted, perhaps not surprisingly, to the first act (and Prologue) and to the third. Taking us from the Prelude to the first act, through Dawn, with wonderful, grainy woodwind, we took in a little of Siegfried and Brünnhilde’s love duet before sailing down the Rhine. In this context, the affinity of this music with some of the material from the Siegfried-Idyll was striking. That little detour into the second act having been savoured, we heard Siegfried meeting the Rhinemaidens in the third, before spending more time on the final scenes. Siegfried’s death registered with properly tragic import, time almost yet not quite standing still: skilful conducting indeed here, as well as excellent solo playing! The Funeral March registered with due tragedy too, especial mention here being warranted by the ACO’s solo trumpeter and its percussionists. Gutrune’s scene – notoriously omitted by Wieland Wagner – was present, before a truncated Immolation Scene, which had the only really awkward arrangement-corner of the evening: no mean achievement at all. This was a most enjoyable and, yes, productively different evening. Now we can look forward to a new series of concerts starting in the autumn.

Pike/Arensky CO/Kunhardt - Ravel, Couperin, and Beethoven, 7 May 2013

Queen Elizabeth Hall

 

Ravel – Le Tombeau de Couperin
Couperin – Concerts royaux (excerpts)
Beethoven – Violin Concerto in D major, op.61

Jennifer Pike (violin)

Arensky Chamber Orchestra

William Kunhardt (conductor)

 

Matthew Sharp (actor)

Simon Gethin Thomas (lighting)

 

It is an obvious thing to do, or at least one might hope it would be, to perform Ravel’s Tombeau de Couperin with music from Couperin’s Concerts royaux; the problem is that to do so nowadays is to take on the ‘authenticity’ Taliban, a task which many, in the teeth of such vociferous hostility, have decided is no longer worth it. They are wrong, yet one can understand the reasons for their wariness. After all, even Pierre Boulez, not a stranger to controversy, once ruefully remarked, concerning Bach’s Brandenburg Concertos, ‘... even as I was making my way forward, until about 1978, the specialists were simultaneously taking over. They were starting to say, “If they’re not played in the true baroque manner, with baroque instruments, it’s useless to play them any other way.” Then one isn’t going to play them at all.’ One would have thought it axiomatic that, in Boulez’s words, ‘A musician approaching an eighteenth-century work after playing something from the twentieth would have a much broader view than these eighteenth-century specialists who end up locking themselves in an antique armoire.’ Alas it has taken longer than anyone, perhaps even Adorno, might have feared to escape the armoire, a state of affairs compounded by the culture industry’s compartmentalisation of ‘period’ music as something akin to so-called ‘costume drama’. Three cheers, then, to the Arensky Chamber Orchestra, already having made quite a name for itself in terms of bold programming and bold presentation, for defying the armoire fatwas! 

 

Anyway, irrespective of inclement performing conditions, the concert’s the thing. Interspersing movements from the first, third, and fourth Concerts royaux with those from Le Tombeau de Couperin proved an inspired choice. The ‘Prélude’ was swift, fleeting even, perhaps a reflection of the relatively small forces (strings 6.5.4.4.2) but perhaps not. The sharp attack and unanimity I have noted on previous occasions again proved a hallmark of the ACO’s excellent ensemble. William Kunhardt conducted without the score (though he would use one for Beethoven.) Urgency was perhaps underlined by the players’ standing to play (save for cellos and basses). The ‘Prélude’ from the Third Couperin suite was taken, as indeed were all the Couperin excerpts, with darkened lighting, focused upon the soloists, a chamber rather than orchestral approach having been decided upon. It was a good choice to follow the Ravel, not least on account of the continuity of oboe-playing (here, beguilingly played by Johnny Roberts). Strings, who had definitely been ‘accompanying’, came into their own in the ensuing ‘Forlane’ from the fourth Concert royal. Rhythms were nicely turned throughout. Ravel’s ‘Forlane’ was characterised by freshness, by a spring in its step, rhythmic alertness apparently ‘carried over’ from its Couperin predecessor. The ‘Menuet’ was more relaxed, indeed affectionate, Kunhardt differentiating it nicely from the previous dance. Harmonic echoes of, for instance, the Pavane pour une infante défunte were allowed to speak; rubato was well judged. There was a true sense of a world – ‘real’ or ‘imaginary’ – lost. The ‘Menuet en trio’ from Couperin’s first suite had a good degree of give-and-take between parts; violin, flute, and cello were equal partners in a graceful reading. Strings again played alone in the ‘Rigaudon’ from the fourth: a catchy reading, somewhat akin to courtlier Purcell, with especially fine articulation from Charlotte Maclet’s violin. Ravel’s own ‘Rigaudon’ perhaps suffered a little from less-than-ideal balance, the brass somewhat dominating the small orchestra. Otherwise, it was a lively account, with welcome hints of greater languor in the central section.

 

Beethoven’s Violin Concerto followed the interval: a contrast rather than a connection, but no less welcome for that. Actor Matthew Sharp, dressed as Beethoven, seated at a desk, read the ever-moving Heiligenstadt Testament (in translation), after which Jennifer Pike, a former BBC Young Musician of the Year, joined the orchestra onstage. Wind instruments were naturally more prominent in a small orchestral performance than they would have been with a full symphony orchestra, and very good they were too. But there was, from the outset, a febrile intensity to the string playing too. Kunhardt led a relatively swift, but never hard-driven, performance of the first movement, Pike proving a bright- and clean-toned soloist, quite ready to yield where necessary. Ensemble was again excellent throughout. If the soloist’s intonation were not always perfect, nor were any such shortcomings other than minor. Certainly, taken as a whole there was a proper sense of the goodness of composer and music, as heard in the Testament, and anyone who does not regard Beethoven’s music as concerned with ethics has no business performing it. Small string forces emphasised the kinship of the slow movement with chamber music, poised in this case not so very far away from the Beethoven of the string quartets, whilst woodwind offered a quickening sense of the world of the outdoor serenade. Pike’s silvery tone brought the music closer to Mendelssohn than one often hears. The transition to the finale was very well handled by conductor and orchestra alike; that movement brought with it more than a faint echo of the Mozartian ‘hunting’ finale, more ebullient than often, and rather winningly so. Horns and other wind unquestionably sounded in their element.

Arensky CO/Kunhardt - Mozart, 19 May 2012

Cadogan Hall

Sinfonia concertante, for violin and viola, KV 364

Symphony no.41 in C major, KV 551, ‘Jupiter’

Andrew Haveron (violin)

Andriy Viytovych (viola)

Arensky Chamber Orchestra

William Kunhardt (conductor).

This was the final instalment of a three-concert series, Revolutionaries of Vienna, from the Arensky Chamber Orchestra. Unfortunately, I was unable to attend the previous two concerts, devoted to Beethoven and Haydn, but was keen to hear whether Mozart would receive his due, which in large part he did. Regular readers, should I have any, will be aware that there is no composer about whom I am touchier or more exacting – delete according to taste – than Mozart, so that is no mean praise, especially for so young an orchestra.

Or perhaps not, for I was encouraged to think that maybe what used to be called the 'green shoots of recovery '– none of us today even thinks those exist economically – might be seen in the battle against the monstrous regiments of authenticity. Maybe it is actually the case that the absurd zealotry of the Leonhardts, Hogwoods, Norringtons, et al., will die with them. Certainly this performance of the Sinfonia concertante for violin and viola suggested that there were still musicians who were willing to treat Mozart as music, rather than as some preposterous parody of a pseudo-archaeological exercise. Conductor William Kunhardt’s tempi were well chosen, seemingly dictated, or rather suggested, by the music, instead of imposed upon it. There will always be different options one might follow, or let us at least hope so, but even if the slow movement were less ‘slow’ than one once might have expected, it flowed rather than being harried – and the closing bars displayed an alert ear for Mozart’s ineffable sense of tragedy. (The relationship between E-flat major and C minor in Mozart is always powerful; consider, for instance, the ninth piano concerto or the twenty-third.) From the opening bars of the first movement, the orchestra showed itself alert, sprightly, and yet always, crucially, warm in timbre. Soloists Andrew Haveron and Andriy Viytovych complemented each other and the orchestra with excellence. The richness of Viytovych’s tone and the sweetness of that of Haveron again took one back to an age that respected Mozart enough never to make him sound remotely unpleasant. (However is it the case that we have reached a situation in which it has become almost de rigueur?) And there was a fine sense of fun, not at least in the finale, whose progress was shaped by an excellent command of line from all concerned. As a welcome encore, we were treated to the slow movement of the second duo for violin and viola, KV 424, deceptive in its apparent simplicity.

I was a little less enamoured with the performance of the Jupiter Symphony, though my reservations were principally restricted to the first movement. Here I wondered, despite undoubtedly committed playing from the ACO, whether there remained a few spectres of ‘authenticity’ to be banished. It seemed unsmiling, driven, unwilling to relax even for the second subject. Moreover, there was a certain astringency to violin tone such as had never surfaced in the first half. Here, and not only here, the kettledrums were more prominent than they might have been, very much in the fashion nowadays favoured. Nevertheless, the slow movement flowed in a good sense. Again, one might have wished for a more relaxed approach – though I can imagine that many, by the same token, would not – but there were splendid details revealed along the way, especially from a fine woodwind section. Though taken one-to-a-bar, there was nevertheless plenty of welcome give-and-take in the minuet, orchestral musicians clearly listening to each other as estimable chamber musicians. The miracles of the finale will never pall; repeats were taken, for which one felt not the slightest regret.

Tan/Arensky Chamber Orchestra/Kunhardt - Stravinsky, Wagner, and Ravel, 10 November 2011

Cadogan Hall

Stravinsky – Pulcinella: Suite
Wagner – Siegfried-Idyll
Ravel – Piano Concerto in G major

Melvyn Tan (piano)
Arensky Chamber Orchestra
William Kunhardt (conductor)


This concert marked the final event of the Arensky Chamber Orchestra’s 2011 season, though it will return in 2012 with a spring series devoted to Haydn, Mozart, and Beethoven, ‘The Revolutionaries of Vienna’, a concert devoted to each composer. The concert also marked the expansion of this ensemble of fine young soloists into a full chamber orchestra, previous concerts having been focused upon strings. It was the first in which the ACO’s artistic director, William Kunhardt, conducted – and an impressive job he made of it too.

First off was Stravinsky’s suite from Pulcinella. (Or rather, first off was the ‘Polichinelle’, first of three mini-cocktails prepared especially for the evening: a typically distinctive touch, recipes provided on the back of the programme.) The opening Sinfonia was more graceful, sensuous even, certainly less driven, than one often hears, much to its advantage. One could say the same of a good part of the rest of the suite, though the Tarantella would be properly insistent, standing out all the more on that account. The bizarre individuality of Stravinsky’s scoring – Paul Griffiths once described the ballet as less a work than a way of hearing – was permitted to speak for itself. Solos were well taken, Kenny Sturgeon’s oboe an especial joy in the Serenata. The Scherzino was rhythmically alert and nicely shaded, its changing demands well negotiated by Kunhardt. A smart, stylish Toccata featured excellent wind and brass playing: proof, were it needed, that expansion of forces was working well. Only the Gavotta lacked a little incision, at some times sounding a little tentative. Stravinsky’s inimitable ear for colour was once again restored to our consciousness in the Finale. Special mention should go to leader, Sulki Yu, whose poised, assured manner set the tone for the ensemble as a whole. And if Sir Neville Marriner’s old Academy of St Martin in the Fields recording – a favourite of mine for the suite, as opposed to full ballet – were smoother, this playing arguably possessed greater character.



Following a sip of the ‘Tribschen’, a cream-based cocktail, we moved on to the Siegfried-Idyll, a formidably difficult work to bring off in one overarching span. The players responded to Kunhardt’s sensitive direction with aplomb, their versatility showing in an immediately mellower tone than that adopted for Stravinsky, the arch anti-Wagnerite (at least in theory). Much was beautifully ‘sung’, just as it should be, with real warmth at climaxes, the occasional more four-square moment quickly effaced by the skill and generosity of the music-making on offer.

A Paris Mojito led us into Ravel’s G major Piano Concerto, with Melvyn Tan as soloist. Tan has a rather peculiar podium manner, which takes a little getting used to; I felt, moreover, that he and the orchestra were not always of one mind, especially during the outer movements. Where differences occurred, I admit that the orchestra’s seemed to be the better mind. For instance, the splendidly jazzy orchestral colours of the first movement and Kunhardt’s eager relish to luxuriate in Ravel’s harmonies contrasted with Tan’s more aggressive approach. There was a spellbinding moment of near-but-not-quite-stasis led by the excellent harpist (Anneke Hodnett) too. Tan seemed much more at home in the slow movement, the opening cantilena beautifully handled: performed in more Romantic, almost Chopinesque, fashion than often, but it worked. The orchestra was on fine form throughout, temperature again higher than one tends to hear, but that is no bad thing. If the finale suffered somewhat from an initially plodding tempo – later corrected – there were some riotous orchestral solos to enjoy. If Tan does not seem always to have achieved unmitigated success in transferring full-time to the modern piano, then the increased orchestral forces employed surely compensated.

The ACO has reached the final six from a shortlist of nine hundred for a Sky Arts Ignition Award. Apparently members of the jury were present; they should have been duly impressed.