Guernsey Symphony Orchestra - Summer Serenade Concert Review

I must confess a certain trepidation as I settled down in St. James to listen to the Guernsey Symphony Orchestra’s ‘Summer Serenade’ concert, kindly sponsored by Credit Suisse, on Saturday 10th July 2010. More familiar with choral music I rather expected something serious, highbrow and altogether difficult. Igor Stravinsky’s playful and mischievous Ballet Jeu de Cartes tore the first strip off my misconceptions. Written in 1936 and first performed by the American Ballet the three movements of the ballet mirror a game of cards, each movement representing a deal.

A ballet without dancers is an unusual concept, but one which the Guernsey Symphony Orchestra made quite enthralling. From the wilful cacophony of the Joker’s dance in the first movement, smashing through the tranquil flute solo. the stately entrance of the four Queens in the second deal and the final battle between the Joker and the Hearts in the third movement, Ballet Jeu de Cartes quivered with dramatic energy.

Harp soloist Lucy Wakeford joined the orchestra to perform Joaquin Rodrigo’s Concierto Serenata for harp and orchestra. Evocative of a Spanish fiesta, Rodrigo stated that he wanted “to make the entire work light, clear and joyful, like the harp’s child-like soul”. This compelling piece certainly displayed the versatility and range of the harp. While the harp is well known for its poise and delicacy, it was a revelation to hear the strength and depth of sound produced by Wakefield. This was particularly apparent during the extended and sumptuous harp solo in the first movement. Throughout the whole Concierto guest conductor Richard Balcombe kept a careful balance between the harp and orchestra; ensuring that at no point did the orchestra threaten to overwhelm the harp, but that the music instead ebbed and flowed, as the theme passed between the orchestra and harp.

Antonin Dvorak’s Symphony No. 8 in G major, op. 88, which comprised the entirety of the concert’s second half, was stunning. The Guernsey Symphony Orchestra’s performance gave an invigorating immediacy and freshness to Dvorak’s familiar themes. The orchestra, moving as one coherent unit, clearly enjoyed playing the symphony. Vividly evocative of 19th century Eastern Europe, the whole orchestra demonstrated a complex understanding of the dramatic, as well as technical, demands of the work. For example, the first violins led by Roger Coull seemed physically entwined in the music, leaning into the rhythm of the seductive waltz that introduced the third movement, while the fourth movement featured a fascinating, rapid ascent of strings and flute, like the wind ripping though treetops, which was countered by a dominate volley from the brass.

Maybe it is the passion of a convert, but I really feel unable to do justice to the Guernsey Symphony Orchestra. My only advice is, should the opportunity arise to hear them play, go. Drop whatever you are doing and go. They bring music to life and recreate it for the 21st century. They work magic.

All Things Green: Thursday 27 May 2010

Bought 2 trays of sweetcorn and 1 basil plant from Mr Falla's, followed by a quick detour around Earlswood for a couple of in-door pots.

Stopped by the allotment to check everything following Wednesday's heavy rain.  A sustained watering has transformed the plot.  Beetroot and Parsnips looking a lot hardier now, while the artichokes have set two crowns and the strawberries are firming up.  On Sunday we'll need to tackle the grass and weeds again, as well as plant out the sweetcorn and squash plants. As the ground was still good & moist I shovelled on a good layer of well rotted (& worm invested) bark mulch around the celeriac  seedlings.

Back at home the basil and chilli plants got potted up and strategically positioned in sunny window sills.

All Things Green: Thursday 27 May 2010

The Guernsey Choral & Orchestral Society - Christmas Concert Review 2009

It's no simple task to do justice to The Guernsey Choral & Orchestral Society's Christmas concert, kindly sponsored by DHL Express, in 500 words. The concert has long been more than simply a concert; it is a local event that stands for many as a marker for the start of the holiday season. Just as Christmas is itself replete with traditions, the GCOS Christmas concert has its own set of customs and rituals, from the impromptu visit by St. Nic, to the choir and orchestra’s donning of party hats and unleashing of poppers during the final carol. Above all else, the Guernsey Choral & Orchestral Society's Christmas concert can be relied on to draw on seasonal music both classic and contemporary, both uplifting and reflective.

The first half of the concert was devoted to excerpts from J.S. Bach's Christmas Oratorio, a piece that alternates between joyous, fulsome chorales and elegant, poised arias. The choir showed considerable technical skill during the fugue sections of the chorales, each vocal part retaining definition and clarity, whilst the choir moved forward at speed as a coherent whole. Soprano soloist, Tina James, joined a smaller chamber orchestra to deliver two wonderfully delicate, sumptuous arias. Mention also needs to be made of the Orchestra's Sinfonia, which included an utterly beguiling trio from the oboes; notes twisting and dipping over each other. Despite the refined, classical nature of the Oratorio the festive spirit was retained throughout, the choir's spirited call for the audience to 'come now with gladness and welcome the morrow' energising and preparing the audience for the rest of the evening.

An infectious air of impish fun crackled throughout the concert's second half, opening with the Orchestra's rendition of Philip Lane's Overture on French Carols. Written in 2001, after Lane heard carols being played over loudspeakers in a shopping centre at Christmas time, the overture was reminiscent of a classic Disney soundtrack, comfortingly familiar, yet with a hint of magic and mischief abounding through the querulous piccolos, spiky strings and rumbustious brass.

As the second half unfolded I started to take on the transfixed grin of a small child, musical treats piling around me.

As is traditional the second half featured several carols performed by The Music Centre Choirs. Conducted by Jeanette Elder the choirs performed to a staggeringly high standard, delivering several pitch perfect, crystal clear, a capella carols from memory, before joining forces with The Choral Society to perform The Holly and the Ivy (arranged by H. Walford Davies). Interspersed with several assured solos from Choral Society and Music Centre singers, both choirs demonstrated considerable skill as they repeatedly and confidently switched between staccato, off-tempo choral singing, to luxurious, emotive swells during the choruses.

The tenor soloist, Michael Sproule, resplendent in red waistcoat and top hat, joined the two choirs to lead The Virgin Mary had a Baby Boy, arranged by Peter Breiner. Sproule was backed by the choirs in powerful gospel mode and an attention grabbing brass section in this piece full of dramatic Louisiana blues swagger.

The Twelve gifts of Christmas by Jeff Tyzik surely deserves to be added to The Guernsey Choral & Orchestral Society's Christmas Concert canon. It was exuberantly wonderful. An inspired reworking of the more familiar Twelve Days of Christmas, the 'gifts' are the sections of the Orchestra, each playing an excerpt from a recognisable classic, such as Beethoven's Fifth or Tchaikovsky's Nutcracker. From the shifts in tempo and key as the Orchestra moved seamlessly between musical styles, to the virtuoso story telling of soloist, Michael Sproule, the whole piece left me smiling at its sheer chutzpah and deeply impressed as to how conductor Jean Owen kept tight control throughout.

Woven throughout the second half of the concert were carols performed by the Choral Society. From the fragile, almost intangible humming at the start of Brahms' Wiegenlied (arranged by Richard Phillips), to the truculent exuberance of We Wish You a Merry Christmas (arranged by Warrell) each of these pieces delivered, both emotionally and technically; not least because the close reciprocal relationship between the choir and its conductor, Helen Grand, meant that at times they almost appeared to move as one entity.

Mention should also be made of those carols where the audience (intentionally) joined in. All too often these interludes, where rusty reticence meets well-practised wassailing, are treated as necessary asides. Not so in this concert! Suffice to say, there is nothing quite like hitting the top note of Hark! The Herald Angels Sing as the whole of St. James's rises up and the brass section unleashes its full might.

As the final streamer fell to drape the bell of a French horn, a small voice murmured in my ear, "Best Choral Society concert yet". That's a wrap in 5 words.

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.

McEwan

As with most intense relationships I can remember where and when I’ve encountered Ian McEwan’swork. Amsterdam, a park in Bournemouth, summer 2005. The Comfort of Strangers, Mile End, spring 2006. Enduring Love, my parent’s house, Boxing Day 2006. On Chesil Beach, on a plane between Gatwick and Guernsey, spring 2007.

During his career two clichés have been attached to McEwan’s work. First, all his plots turn on one traumatic event that upsets the comfortable, middle class lives of his characters. Secondly, his work is marked by a dark taste for the macabre.

The first cliché seems to miss the point of Ian McEwan. McEwan is a chronicler of middle class life. Almost all of his books focus on middle class, English life. The interest comes from what happensafter that life is disturbed, be it through a missing child, a ballooning accident or a simple miscommunication. While the event which sets the plot in motion is often shockingly memorable, it is the rest of the story that matters: how the characters rationalise and respond to the incident.

The second accusation - that McEwan has a marked taste for the macabre - is perhaps closer to the mark. Certainly McEwan’s early writing is frequently disturbing. Events during The Cement Garden and The Comfort of Strangers are profoundly unsettling. However, during his career McEwan has refined this sense of darkness, using it more sparingly, so that it now serves as an icy rapier to tear through the façade protecting middle class lives.

What makes McEwan’s writing particularly captivating for me is his depiction of place and his sharp character observations. The walk through the country in Amsterdam, or the cooking of dinner inSaturday are so vivid you feel you could have experienced them yourself. The panic when a child is lost in A Child in Time is tangible, while slow collapse of a relationship in On Chesil Beach is agony to read.

McEwan has a deft understanding of English life and that is perhaps why his work tends to fix itself in your mind.

Defeat: Why They Lost Iraq

I’ve just finished Defeat: Why They Lost Iraq, by Jonathan Steele; a truly disturbing and thought provoking book. Jonathan Steele writes for the Guardian and while he writes in a very accessible style it all felt a bit right-on at first. But the facts and accounts he gathers steadily pile up into a pretty damning case. It also gave me a much clearer understanding of recent Iraqi history and politics, while also opening my eyes to the affect of Western policies.

While I’m on the subject, Kim Sengupta’s article ‘Leaving Baghdad ’ provides a very grim, but, in my view, an utterly essential account of life in Baghdad during 2006.