Guernsey Camerata - Serenade Concert Review

‘Serenade’, a performance given to honour or express love for someone; a theme that wove its way through the whole of Guernsey Camerata's An Evening Serenade concert (generously sponsored by BWCI Group), from the opening drama of Schubert's Overture to Rosamunde to the final, wistful string glissando in Robert Farnon's Portrait of a Flirt.

Franz Schubert's Overture to 'Rosamunde' has outlived the play it was originally written to accompany. Deceptively simple, the overture takes the play's orchestral motifs and repeatedly layers them around each other; gradually building a whirling sense of sound, skilfully directed by conductor Murray Stewart.

Following the drama of Rosamunde a calm air of gentility settled upon St. James as the first confident notes of Mozart's Concerto for Flute and Harp K299 rung out. The combination of Fionna Traver’s flute and Elizabeth Scorah's harp gave the impression of an exquisite music box being opened up on stage. The atmosphere moved from gentle enjoyment to rapt fascination in the final moments of the piece, as harp and flute embarked on an unaccompanied duet, creating a completely entrancing soundscape.

The delicate ambience created by Travers and Scorah was continued as Ravel's Pavane pour une infante defunte opened with a poised and sustained tenor horn solo, followed by soft, ethereal sways from the oboe. The bass section held the pace well, with perfectly controlled pizzicato interludes. There was little danger of this becoming, as Ravel described one slow performance of his work, a 'Dead Pavane for a Princess'.

The world premiere of Suite Guernesiaise by John Crossley-Hayes formed the centre piece of the evening. Crossley-Hayes wrote the suite in 1942, while teacher-in-charge of Vauvert School, to reflect his love of Guernsey and in remembrance of happier times. The original scores rested in a cupboard until Crossley-Hayes’s death in 2003, when the suite was rediscovered by his daughter, Ildiko Hayes, who dedicated herself to ensuring that her father’s work was performed. Ildiko Hayes and other family members were present at this first performance of Suite Guernesiaise, the culmination of 67 years work by both father and daughter.

Similar in style to Percy Grainger, an impression of Guernsey was tangible throughout Suite Guernesiaise. The first movement introduced Guernsey from the sea with surging orchestral swells, while the second movement focused on Guernsey's pastoral life, with wonderfully stirring solos from the lead cello and bassoon. The final movement took the form of a cheerful march, perhaps in contrast to the martial environment Crossley-Hayes found himself living in.

The contemplative air of the first half was returned to with Aux étoiles by Henri Duparc. A symphonic poem written in 1874, Aux etoiles is one of Duparc's few surviving works. A mournful note from the tenor horn opened the piece, the orchestra gradually joining in to set a pulsing base for Orchestra Leader, Nicholas Miller's, eerily captivating violin to rise from.

Fauré's 'Dolly' Suite is familiar to many and it was to the Camerata's credit that the Suite sounded fresh again. Written originally as a series of piano duets and dedicated to Debussy's second wife, Helene Bardac ('Dolly'), the suite includes popular movements such as the Berceuse (Listen with Mother) and the invigorating fiesta of Le pas espagnol. The theme of serenade was again present, particularly in the beautiful Tendresse as the horn and oboe engaged in a soft exchange, accompanied by swathes of music that appeared to be massaged into life under Stewart's direction.

After the calm, reflective music of the preceding pieces Robert Farnon's Portrait of a Flirt came as something of a shock. Filled with sweeping string crescendos and jabbing notes from muted trumpets this was akin to being swept around the dance floor by Fred and Ginger. This was mischievous, impish music that demanded spot on precision from the Orchestra and tight control from Stewart as the piece shifted from langourous sashays to quick two-steps.

As the last echoes of the Flirt gadded out of St. James one was left not simply serenaded, but also aware of the unique power of live music to deliver intense and intimate moments, such as the harp and flute duet during the Concerto for Flute and Harp K299 or Duparc's Aux étoiles. To borrow from Shakespeare;

“Here will we sit and let the sounds of music
Creep in our ears; soft stillness and the night
Become the touches of sweet harmony.”
Shakespeare, The Merchant of Venice (Act V, Scene I)

The Guernsey Choral & Orchestral Society: A Feast of Music Concert Review

The Guernsey Choral & Orchestral Society's A Feast of Music (generously sponsored by HSBC Private Bank) was a concert of vivid, emotional music that captured the audience from the first roll of the timpani marking the start of Dvorak's Te Deum. The Te Deum, written in 1892 to mark the 400th anniversary of Columbus's landing in the New World, is a wonderfully evocative work. A sense of Columbus's journey was immediately apparent, as the power of the Orchestra and Choir built wave upon wave of music, giving the audience a feeling of being surrounded by movement, carefully marshalled by conductor Helen Grand. Beyond the mere physicality of the journey one also gained a sense of the joy and trepidation felt by the sailors, as the initial celebratory mood of the Te Deum was undercut with painfully poignant, yearning solos from soprano Helen Groves and baritone Colin Campbell. The choir was key in supporting this, with skilful controlled, tentative, almost ominous singing during the Aeterae fac and Dignare Domine.

Mendelssohn's Violin Concerto in E minor came next. This is music the Pied Piper would have played (if he played violin). Soloist Laura Samuel's playing was as delicate and beguiling as a spider floating by on a single thread. Soloist and orchestra moved seamlessly under the direction of Jean Owen, playing a game of call and reply as the central motifs were tossed between them. There came a point when I was no longer sure where the violin stopped and Ms. Samuel began; she was utterly engaged with the music. The standing ovation at the end was much deserved.

The evening drew to a close with William Walton's Belshazzar's Feast. This is a piece that demands an immediate statement of intent from a reviewer; it is not music one can be equivocal about. It was wonderful, magnificent and grandiose! Cinematic in its scope, it had me gripped from the first chilling, and terrifyingly hard, unaccompanied bass and tenor entries. Baritone soloist Colin Campbell returned to the stage to lead us through this biblical tale of shock and awe, with a stern and forceful delivery. The passages describing Belshazzar's Babylon alone would have made this performance memorable. The abrupt phrasing from the choir jostling with spiky, itchy playing from the orchestra not only gave a vivid sense of a proud, bustling city, but also managed to convey a dark mood of contempt from the singers. This sense of drama was carried by the choir throughout the piece; their clear and emotional singing giving meaning to the text. When the spectral hand appeared to give its terminal message there was a clear, musical contrast between the lavish earlier singing of Praise ye the gods of gold and the brief, discordant, line "Thou art weighed in the balance and found wanting".

I was unsure of the concert's title at first. Belshazzar's feast was probably not a party you'd be sorry to miss and I couldn't see how the title applied to the other works. But by the end of the evening it was clear that all the pieces had such presence and emotional impact that it was as satisfying to listen to as working your way through any biblical feast.