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Brighton Philharmonic Orchestra, 09 February 2025 (Susan Elkin reviews)

Brighton Philharmonic Orchestra, guest-led by Igor Yuzefovich

Brighton Festival Chorus

Ben Gernon

Cody Quattlebaum

Brighton Dome

Ben Gernon conducted this all English, all 20th century concert without baton and a great deal of sensitive immediacy.

There’s really only one way to treat the Enigma Variations – with affectionate respect, and that’s exactly what Gernon gave it. Highlights included a pleasing contrast between variations one and two, some fine cello and bass work in the third and lots of sweetness in the eighth. The viola solo (Caroline Harrison) in the tenth and the cello one (Peter Adams) in the twelfth were beautifully poignant. And it’s good to hear Nimrod (Variation 9) allowed to flow. It’s much more moving this way than if you stagnate it as, for example Leonard Bernstein did.

The piece is famously a series of portraits of Elgar’s friends and, if you know a bit about this, you can hear their personalities in the music such as variation 12 which depicts an amateur cellist or the grandiose variation 13 which was for an organist friend. Actually it works perfectly well simply as a series of tuneful movements without worrying about “my friends pictured within”. And that, I presume, is how the pleasing number of children sitting near me were hearing it. Full marks to their parents for bringing them.

After the interval it was on to the wondrous drama of Belshazzar’s Feast and this was an outstanding performance. I think William Walton would have been very happy. Brighton Festival Chorus – all 140 of them – now illuminated in the choir seating behind the orchestra made an arrestingly rich sound from their very first entry. And, best of all, because this is a piece which tells a story, every single word was crisply articulated.

Belshazzar was the Old Testament king who disobeyed the rules by indulging in wine women and song,  admiring some glitzty gods and promoting himself above the “One True God.” Then, terrifyingly, the writing, literally, appears on the wall as a warning and he gets his come-uppance in one gloriously sung staccato chord.

Cody Quattlebaum (currently singing Count Almaviva in The Marriage of Figaro at ENO), who looks a bit like an old testament prophet with his spectacular hair, is superb as the baritone soloist who is effectively a narrator in this piece. He too has wonderfully incisive diction and a way of making his lower notes rattle with so much menace that you almost want to back away. He is every inch an actor as well as a singer.

The crisp syncopation in the chorus was especially delightful in the third section and I admired the trumpet work during the singing of “Blow the trumpet in Zion” as well as the way Gernon delivered the triumphant final bars.

Bravo BPO and BFC.  It was quite an afternoon.

 

Figaro: An Original Musical – London Palladium

Reviewer: Susan Elkin

Photo of The Reviews Hub - LondonThe Reviews Hub – LondonFebruary 4, 2025

0 1 minute read
Jon Robyns And Cayleigh Capaldi Credit Fahad Alinizi 1
 Jon Robyns and Cayleigh Capaldi – credit Fahad Alinizi

Book: Ashley Jana & Will Nuziata

Music and Lyrics: Ashley Jana

Director: Will Nuziata

We’re in Italy although there’s nothing remotely Italian about the ambience. A lonely motherless girl Sienna (Cayleigh Capaldi) wants to be a singer, to the horror of her farmer father. So she runs away to join a circus owned by a dastardly Englishman named Figaro (Jon Robyns). From then on, this predictable, shallow narrative is effectively Carousel with a hint of Carmen and a lot of unresolved loose ends. The final, enigmatic line is “No more”, which comes as a relief, although it’s actually a lazy cop-out.

It’s a pity that the vehicle is so woefully superficial because there are some powerful performances here. Capaldi is very convincing as a star singer and, because it’s partly a show about a show (not exactly an original concept), there is plenty of opportunity for her to show off her impressive vocal range and colourful dynamics. And Robyns presents a highly attractive villain. With that fruity voice, he could (and does) seduce almost anyone. Ava Brennan, as the kind, down-to-earth company dresser/designer, is delightful too.

Also impressive are Sophia Goodman and Cian Eagle-Service as the two children Figaro has kidnapped/rescued to work in his company. Both are experienced in West End roles, have oodles of stage presence and they work beautifully together. Their harmony singing is impeccable.

Some of Ashley Jana’s music might be memorable if it was heard a few times. Occasionally an attractive melody comes along. And there’s a good moment when Sienna is arguing with her father and the music is pounding along in tense, urgent 6|8. Her lyrics, however, are pitifully banal.

Beneath all this is a fine seven-piece band (London Musical Theatre Orchestra) led by Caitlin Morgan. The string work – a full-string quartet sits at the centre of it – is especially fine although the volume is too loud when it’s lifted for what is presumably meant to be dramatic effect.

It was a mistake, incidentally, to call this show “Figaro”, a name which has irrelevant Mozart and Rossini connotations and is arguably misleading. The circus could, and should, have had any Italian name.

Runs until 4 February 2025

The Reviews Hub Score

2 stars

Toothless show pleasingly done

Review first published by The Reviews Hub https://www.thereviewshub.com/figaro-an-original-musical-london-palladium/

Shakespeare’s plays are full of leaders who are often Kings. Eliot A Cohen is a highly experienced and eminent US government adviser and academic. His 2023 book discusses the characters, words and actions of Shakespeare’s leaders and draws parallels – often uncannily close ones – with real-life examples. Power is the common factor, whether it is inherited, seized, acquired and/or lost.

Macbeth, for example, has deep-seated ambition beyond his proven competence on the battle field. Then ideas simmer, with input from the witches and his wife. Note that they can’t make him do what he does. They simply stir. The final decision to kill the king is his own although he still, at that point, has a few qualms of conscience. This however is the man who was capable of ruthlessly “unseaming” an enemy from “nave [groin?]  to chops” so he stabs King Duncan to death. And thereafter the killing quickly escalates until the perpetrator, or the one who gives the orders, is steadily dehumanised. Cohen compares him with Vladamir Putin.

It isn’t just kings and world leaders who have power. It could be the head of a business or club. Firing someone is a metaphorical murder, Cohen observes. When I was about half way through this fascinating book I was told a real life story by two friends. The organisation they both belong to as a way of pursuing a hobby (I’m deliberately fudging the details here) pays a professional to lead their activity. Last term their new chap proved unsatisfactory. So, awkward as it was, they fired him, to which he responded with steely but pitiful charm and bought them all farewell gifts. As I listened to this tale, Cohen’s book very much in my mind, I thought: “This is pure Julius Caesar, with a whiff of Richard II. The committee, which both my friends are on, are the conspirators, and the membership at large, who voted unanimously for his dismissal, are the mob baying for blood.” And it made me respect Shakespeare’s timeless perspicacity in a new light.

Then there’s the relinquishing of power. Is it possible to do it with grace?  Think of Margaret Thatcher grimly clinging on. Cohen observes that it’s very hard to watch someone else doing the leadership  job you painstakingly built up. Wise university deans (it would be vice-chancellors in the UK)  move right away and buy a house in the country when they retire. King Lear doesn’t understand this. Neither do many captains of industry, head teachers and the like. Prospero, on the other hand, deliberately destroys the magical tools which gave him the power which seems a strange decision. The whole question of magic, whatever we now mean by it, interests Cohen too. Obama, for example, had it in spades and it brought him many followers although, in Cohen’s view he didn’t achieve much as president.

Then there are leaders who have so much charisma and brilliant command of rhetoric that they can literally entrance their followers and persuade them of almost anything. Think of Mark Antony at Caesar’s funeral or Henry V before Agincourt – and of Adolf Hilter.

Cohen is pretty scathing about Henry V whom he regards as wily, manipulative, calculating and ruthless. I used to teach this play to A level students. If I were doing so now I would be insisting the my students read, and then discuss with me and each other, every word that Cohen has to say on Henry V because he comes up with things I’d never thought of.  Is there a pornographic element in the level of lurid detail in the threats to the Mayor and people of Harfleur? Does Henry actually enjoy the violence? Well, not in the 1989 Branagh film he doesn’t but you could think of half a dozen modern aggressors and play it that way. And why, given his fluency at every other point in the play is he so tongue-tied with Katharine to whom marriage is, anyway, a done deal? Surely it’s just an act? Note too, the sexual innuendoes he uses.

It’s a thought-provoking read to which my comments here probably don’t do justice. If you care about Shakespeare and or the dynamics of power in general The Hollow Crown is a must.

Next week on Susan’s Bookshelves: 

Scissorhandz: A Musical Reinvented – Southwark Playhouse Elephant, London

Reviewer: Susan Elkin

Photo of The Reviews Hub - LondonThe Reviews Hub – LondonJanuary 31, 2025

1 1 minute read
Dionne Gipson As The Inventor In Scissorhandz A Musical Reinvented Credit Danny Kaan
 Dionne Gipson as the Inventor Credit Danny Kaan

Writer and Director: Bradley Bredweg

Loosely inspired by Tim Burton’s 1990 film Edward Scissorhands, and to a lesser extent by Matthew Bourne’s 2005 dance version, this show enjoyed three sold-out runs in Los Angeles before trying its luck in London. Two cast members, Jordan Kai Burnett in the title role and Ryan O’Connor multi-roling, were in the original cast and both are strong stage commanders.

Scissorhandz is effectively a jukebox musical which cobbles together songs from recent decades, arranged and orchestrated by MD Bradley Bredweg who evidently has little love for volume control. As it winds through its plot for ninety minutes, it is relentlessly, bone-shakingly loud for most of its length. The occasional gentle number such as Snow Angel – which comes towards the end and is beautifully sung by Dionne Gipson as the Inventor, joined by others – is a great relief.

Of course, there are only a handful of stories in the world which simply get up-ended, expanded upon, reset or whatever to suit the context and this one is a take on Mary Shelley’s 1818 novel Frankenstein, which is itself a reversal of the traditional “overcoming the monster” narrative. As such, it was always about inclusion and empathy but Scissorhandz turns it into a glaringly obvious, unoriginal, woke statement.

The titular Scissorhandz is invented from spare parts by a thwarted mother in a lonely gothic house – the multi-level grey set and projection are one of the better things in this show. They are taken in by a family but the neighbours are prejudicially hostile in their various ways. Then there’s a bit of Romeo and Juliet stuff as Scissorshandz falls in love, but of course, it can’t possibly work out. They are a misfit and, as such, we are invited to welcome Scissorhandz into our hearts and society. The message is over-larded.

On press night, most of the audience seems to be drunk on decibels and there is rapturous enthusiasm for what is, if you can keep your head when all about you are losing theirs, actually a pretty ordinary show.

Runs until 29 March 2025

The Reviews Hub Score: 2 stars

Noisily woke

         

Philharmonia

Manfred Honeck

Pierre-Laurent Aimard (piano)

Royal Festival Hall, Southbank Centre

 

There is something richly incisive about Manfred Honeck’s conducting and in this concert, only his second with the orchestra, the platform cohesion – joy even – was palpable.

Carl Maria von Weber’s Der Frieschϋtz overture always makes a pleasing concert starter and Honeck’s very sensitive opening certainly grabbed attention. There was some delightful playing too in the section in which the horn plays over cross string work. Fun, moreover, to see traditional timpani played with hard sticks – lots of attentive leaning in and key twisting – by Antoine Siguré, who later switched to the pedal timps awaiting him at the back for the Dvorak.

Forces were then reduced for Beethoven’s third piano concerto which Pierre-Laurent delivered with measured passion and warm conviction. Familiar as this work is, it sounded fresh in this performance. Honeck, ensured, for example, that we noticed, really noticed, the beautiful wind and lower string work beneath the rippling filigree piano in the first movement and Aimard gave us a flamboyantly romantic take on the cadenza.  The largo was as slow as I’ve ever heard it but the concentrated delicacy allowed some carefully pointed musical beauty to shine through. And the third movement was resolutely heroic in tone with terrific cello sound, (born of their being positioned next to first violins) especially in the fugal passage. Then we got an exciting take on the final bars. Finale flourishes seem to be a Honeck trademark.

Dvorak’s “From the New World” symphony is, of course, like the preceding two works, highly popular and very well known. And there’s a reason for that. It’s like landscapes: the best bits tend to attract the most visitors. I have never, however, heard it quite like this. Honeck, conducting without score which makes for immediacy and a different sort of contact with players, exaggerated the tempo and dynamic shifts to such an extent that the performance was packed with much more breath-taking drama than usual. Pulling it about like this wouldn’t be to everyone’s taste but I rather liked it.

He showed again how good he is at delicate slow introductions and here there was less beating time and more gestural conducting. The poignancy of the cor anglais solo in the Largo never fails – it has survived familiarity and “that” TV ad –  and Henry Clay played it exquisitely in this performance with movingly expressive work from the rest of the orchestra. The Molto vivace was blissfully precise and very fast and the Allegro con fuoco was definitely fiery: lots of high octane playing, especially from the brass. And, yet again, the extreme dynamic contrasts worked a treat.

I’ve heard the Philharmonia in action many times but rarely in such spectacularly good form as this. I hope there are more concerts programmed with Manfred Honeck?

The Wolves – Tower Theatre, London

Reviewer: Susan Elkin

Photo of The Reviews Hub - LondonThe Reviews Hub – LondonJanuary 24, 2025

0 1 minute read
The Wolves
 Image: Pau Ros

Writer: Sarah DeLappe

Director: Ragan Keefer

Nine high school students constitute a women’s soccer team, The Wolves, in an unnamed North American city. They meet to warm up and play each Saturday and that provides the structure for the unfolding scenes in Sarah DeLappe’s appealing and quite original play. They sit chatting, often over each other, in a circle as they stretch, in a sort of visual chorus. Each girl has a number on her back. Her given name, if we ever learn it, is subsidiary. They are first and foremost a team who huddle together and chant “We are the Wolves” as a bonding exercise before each match.

The play showcases young female talent and there are some strong actors in this cast whose delivery is naturalistically convincing. There is also some very attentive active listening as they discuss the Khmer Rouge genocide in Cambodia, along with cancer, immigration and abortion among other things including, of course, their coach and the details of the forthcoming tour.

Inevitably there’s someone in the room with experience of each of every contentious topic so toes get trodden on. And this deepens as they pair, still talking, for dribbling practice, each two passing across the stage, configured in the round for this show, which is unusual for Tower Theatre.

Amongst a generally good cast, Thea Mayeux is outstanding as #13. She is the joker/leader, making silly faces and putting on voices and generally being the brittle, disruptive, often cruel, teenager no teacher wants in a class. But of course, she’s also vulnerable, which is why she shows off constantly, and Mayeux nails that perfectly.

Eventually – the play runs 90 minutes without interval – disaster strikes and one of the team dies so the action becomes more subdued as they talk about her and her funeral. The mood finally leaves changing room banter behind when Amanda Charalambous, as the dead girl’s mother, arrives to address them while they each sit in their usual circle but still, silent and gazing uncomfortably at the floor. Competent as Charalambous is, this overlong scene is the least successful thing in an otherwise well-paced piece.

Runs until 1 February 2025

The Reviews Hub Score  3.5

Female football as vehicle for issues

Review first published by The Reviews Hub

Maidstone Symphony Orchestra

Brian Wright

Ben Goldscheider

Mote Hall, Maidstone

This imaginatively programmed concert gave us three mid-twentieth century works all premiered within four years of each other, under very different circumstances. There was, therefore plenty of range to appreciate.

Leonard Bernstein’s Candide overture is an extravagantly exciting piece and a challenging concert opener because it has to go fast and furious to be as exhilarating as it’s meant to be. Wright steered the orchestra through  those  helter-skelter, off-beat rhythms and lush melodies with panache and all praise to piccolo player Barbara Love both here and in the two following works. She was kept pretty busy throughout the evening.

We’re very used to the horn concerti of Mozart and Strauss – but what about  Reinhold Glière who was a contemporary of Rachmaninov and whose concerto is pleasingly tuneful? It should get far more outings. Soloist Ben Goldscheider, whose poised control is remarkable, found soulful legato in the long phrases of the first movement and some unusual sounds across three and a half octaves in the cadenza. The Andante is a bit syrupy and could be mistaken for film music, but Wright ran with its excesses and the blending of horn (rich and creamy sound, here) and strings was nicely balanced. The third movement is shot through with Russian folk melodies including a tune I know as “London Bridge is Falling Down”. Goldscheider played every note with crisp clarity in what was a very enjoyable performance of a piece new, I presume, to most of the audience.

And so to the brooding majesty of Shostokovich’s classically structured, and vast, tenth symphony written soon after (and maybe to commemorate) the death of Stalin. It’s not a piece many community orchestras would have the courage to tackle but MSO carried it off from the escalating, lugubrious angst of the opening with the plaintive brass all the way to the rousing final bars with their astonishing, bravura timp work. And at a practical level it must have been satisfying for the orchestra to rehearse and perform because there’s so much for everyone to do.

 

High spots included the unsettling violin pizzicato  with flute and the growling contrabassoon in the first movement and the strident, aggressive energy of the second movement which – the composer was coy about it – may be a representation of Stalin. There was some pretty arresting playing in the Allegretto with that disturbing recurrent motif and full marks to Andrew Laing for dynamic leadership, especially in this movement.  Then the peaceful resolution and triumphant brightness in the finale were communicated fully, particularly by the brass and percussion sections.

I was pleased to see a slightly fuller hall than sometimes for what turned out to be and interesting and enterprising concert.

 

 

Bruckner Symphony no 7

RAM Academy Symphony Orchestra

Ryan Wrigglesworth

Dukes Hall, Royal Academy of Music

 

It was a real pleasure to be back at Royal Academy of Music to hear accomplished, emergent players out in force to showcase the results of their work with Ryan Wrigglesworth this week.

And Bruckner 7 was an excellent choice. Not only has it been the best known of the composer’s works since the rapturous reception it received at its Leipzig premiere in 1884, but it’s written on a grandiose scale so there’s plenty for everyone to do.

It’s a symphony full of memorable melodies and colour – hence its popularity – and after graceful negotiation of that tricky tremolo start , the Em major cello tune sang out joyously. Wrigglesworth balanced the sound nicely in the rather glorious Duke’s Hall acoustic, throughout out the challengingly long opening Allegro moderato movement with an exceptionally dramatic take on the big rallentando towards the end.

There was some sumptuously beautiful playing in the rising, soaring C# minor melody in the Andante (good tuba work) which is probably the finest movement in the symphony although it’s a hard choice. The climatic section with string arpeggios, trombones – and the famous cymbal clash – was pretty fine too.

The principal trumpet really excelled, as he or she must, in the scherzo and I admired the way Wrigglesworth controlled the manic string work and contrasted it with the gentler trio.

And finally back to E major for the finale which in this symphony doesn’t really resolve anything. This performance gave us some excellent work from the brass section in the grand marcato statements and sensitive attention to dynamic contrasts here as in the rest of the work.

Whether or not you share Bruckner’s staunch, reverential Catholicism (and I don’t) this is a profoundly inspirational work. The players were audibly inspired both by the work and by Wriggleworth. It’s also a piece which, given its length, requires a lot of stamina but of course these young players rose to the challenge with aplomb.