REVIEW: Martin Dreyer’s verdict on North York Moors Chamber Music Festival, Dialogue and The Dividing Line, St Hilda’s, Danby and St Hedda’s, Egton Bridge, August 11 and 13

Violinist Charlotte Scott

THE titles – the festival’s own – give a rough indication of where we are in this year’s theme of Creation.

Dialogue is self-explanatory; the Dividing Line is that between earth and sky. Each of these recitals in churches on the northern edge of the North York Moors featured a world premiere, in a context of related works, old and new.

The afternoon in Danby involved only three violinists: Alena Baeva, Benjamin Baker and Charlotte Scott. Two pieces each by Bach and Berio framed two dances by Saariaho and the world premiere of Creation by Isabella Gellis, the only work in the programme involving all three players.

She describes it as a reimagining of an aria about a butterfly, sung by the Child in her 2024 opera The Devil’s Den, which was staged by Opera North last November. The role requires some daunting vocal pyrotechnics.

In the earlier part of its eight minutes, a glissando and close harmony set up a sense of lament. These recurred later, but the highest voice emerged gently at first and then with full-throated lyricism before lower, slower voices suggested the butterfly temporarily at rest.

It was not long before a series of high-note signposts, against tremolo accompaniment, grew ever more intense, keenly reflecting the original aria. Finally this dissipated into hovering harmony, in a pianissimo that stopped abruptly. Even without the visual reference, the piece stands alone most effectively.

Charlotte Scott despatched an immaculate if slightly deliberate account of Bach’s Second Partita for solo violin at the start, which was more than matched by Alena Baeva’s concluding no-holds-barred version of his taxing Chaconne, in which the three voices within the score emerged clearly.

Benjamin Baker teamed up with each of them in turn in five of Berio’s Duetti, bringing out the more lyrical sides of the composer’s human portraits. All three players warmed up for the Gellis with a suitably balletic approach to Saariaho’s two Danses des Flocons.

There were no less than a baker’s dozen of players on hand two afternoons later in Egton Bridge. The first half of the programme culminated in the world premiere of Charlotte Bray’s That Which You Wove Of Lightest Thread, I Wear To Honour Stone, for horn and string quartet.

Its title is taken from Paul Celan’s poem Totenhemd (‘death shirt’). What made this unusual was its close affiliation with a woven installation by the artist Caroline Burraway, which was on display in the nave. It consisted of a number of largely dessicated leaves woven together with human hair. It was deliberately designed to fall apart over time.

Bray’s music had a similar feel. Most of the action was in the solo horn, now in brief fanfares or calls to action, now less affirmative, more faltering. Its lines were brief rather than lyrical. Underneath the

string quartet wavered uncertainly, as if quaking at the horn’s decisiveness and fearful of its dominance. It was as if the horn was a tyrant, the strings his cowering people. This was musical impressionism in modern guise.

It had been preceded without a break by Thea Musgrave’s evocative Dawn, for oboe solo (Nicholas Daniel), followed by Kurtag’s Ligatura (from The Answered Unanswered Question), in the version for two violins, two cellos and celeste, and Ives’s The Unanswered Question, with Ben Goldscheider’s horn standing in for the trumpet and the wind quartet ‘chorus’ playing from behind the audience, attempting to answer the question of the title. The three works made an effective sequence and a useful prologue to the Bray.

Schubert’s String Quintet after the interval got off to a less than persuasive start, where slightly stronger accents might been more effective. The second movement hovered as it should and there was a welcome injection of light-heartedness in the Scherzo.

The finale came together with some force, the instruments now seeming more settled with each other. Much of the ensemble’s energy seemed to radiate not so much from the first violin, Alena Baeva, but from the centrally positioned viola, Sascha Bota, whose glances in all directions acted as a focus for his colleagues. It was a solidly competent rather a memorable account.

Oboe player Nicholas Daniel

Highlights from the Second Week, North York Moors Chamber Music Festival, August 17 to 22, at Welburn Manor Marquee unless otherwise stated

IN retrospect, the first half of ‘From the Silence’ (August 17) was relatively unexciting. The sudden rhythmic interjections in Thomas Adès’s piano work Traced Overhead, played by Joseph Havlat, and the largely slow-paced and thoroughly thought-laden And Other Things by Isabella Gellis, for clarinet, cello and piano, threatened to outstay their welcomes.

Dream, by Huw Watkins, for clarinet, violin and piano, was much more incident-packed, belying its title. From a quiet start, it exploded into fire. The piano calmed things down, but the other instruments lost patience with this and erupted again. Stimulating.  Adès’s Four Berceuses were surely ironically titled: definitely not recommended for lulling a child to sleep.

After the interval, reverting to Mozart and Beethoven, we might have expected classical normality. We were wrong. In Mozart’s Oboe Quartet in F, the typical approach is for oboe to dominate and the supporting strings to fill in where needed. This was quite different. All four players were totally engaged, the strings not to be outdone by the soloist and making their presence felt at every opportunity, weaving in and out of the texture with deft inflexions all round.

The slow movement was utterly soulful, rivetingly so up to and including its final cadence. In the finale, with all four going hell for leather, ensemble remained taut. This was the most exciting account of the work one could ever expect to hear, sensational in its daring and impact, certainly not what one might anticipate in a work that can easily sound bland. This was anything but. The deft oboist was Nicholas Daniel, with violinist Benjamin Baker, viola player Simone van der Giessen and cellist Tim Posner in close attendance.

By the time we reached Beethoven’s ‘Ghost’ Trio, Op 70 No 1, rain lashing the canvas made life difficult for players and audience alike. It had its compensations, however. The first movement was exceptionally fiery – a matter of self-defence – yet with some exceptionally subtle phrasing in its development section.

The Largo took on an extra layer of creepiness in this weather. The finale took time to outweigh the demons conjured in the Largo, but eventually – with the rain now letting up – moved into sunnier, pastoral climes. It was a brave and ultimately satisfying account.

* * * * *

THE next afternoon in a packed St Mary’s, Lastingham (August 18), ‘The Architect’s Hand’ offered Mozart’s Clarinet Quintet, partnered by the world premiere of an oboe quartet by Huw Watkins, whose String Trio made such a profound effect in this venue last year.

The Mozart was marked by clarinettist Matthew Hunt’s clear attempt to blend as smoothly as possible with the strings, made possible only by his extraordinary breath control. His duetting with first violinist Charlotte Scott in the slow movement, for example, was ideally balanced, all strings being muted here.

The strings made a shapely impact in the first of the Scherzo’s trios (where clarinet is silent). But it was in the six variations of the finale that Hunt really came into his own. Skipping between octaves in the first variation, bubbling in chalumeau register in the second, he was particularly effervescent in the fourth. In the more chromatic final two variations, the ensemble delivered some teasing pauses and tempo-changes.

Oboist-in-residence Nicholas Daniel returned to the front line in Watkins’s exciting new work. He was partnered by violinist Benjamin Baker, viola player Simone van der Giessen and cellist Jamie Walton, very much an ‘A’ Team. Into some fierce opening string chords, the oboe crept gingerly before building furiously as its tessitura rose, against highly syncopated strings. This movement faded dreamily at its close.

In a largely slow movement, Baker’s violin was much the most agitated participant, its decorative roulades contrasting with the largely calm, pastoral mood of the oboe and lower strings. The oboe’s legato line was a delight. Virtuoso runs in the oboe dominated the finale, where all four players were kept busy.

It was if the oboe were challenging the others to follow him. This they did after the opening triplet motif made a reappearance, whereupon all four took flight, the oboe rising ever higher towards an extremelyeffective, hushed ending.

* * * * *

‘NIGHTFALL’ (August 20) opened with the pianist Katya Apekisheva playing another three of Schumann’s Fantasiestucke Op 12, which have been featured throughout the festival. Aptly, her phrasing was particularly lovely in Des Abends (‘In the evening’).

It was the prelude to the UK premiere of Tom Coult’s Two Nocturnes And A Maze, for horn, violin and piano, which was written for performance in a hillside church in the Swiss Alps.

As one might expect, there were echoes of Alpine horn in Nocturne I, to which piano responded chordally and violin in jerky fashion. Nocturne II was much closer to Bartok’s night-music, with a repeated-note motif batted between horn and violin, as the horn became gradually higher and more sustained. It finished sparsely, with single notes from each player.

In between, Maze, with horn now muted at first, the texture was lighter and airier, with pizzicato violin and staccato piano. The relationship between the three parts was vague but the combinations were engaging.

Daniel Lebhardt followed the opening movement of Beethoven’s ‘Moonlight’ Sonata, with the slow movement of Schubert’s Piano Sonata in B flat, D.960. He was splendidly grand in its bold central section.

Apekisheva returned, with violinist Benjamin Baker and cellist Jamie Walton, the festival director, for an affecting account of Schubert’s single-movement Trio D.897 (nicknamed – not by Schubert – ‘Notturno’). Its opening is curiously marked pianissimo and appassionato. We certainly sensed the passion here.

* * * * *

THE closing afternoon concert (August 22), ‘…In The End’, juxtaposed Mozart’s First Piano Quartet, K.478 with Schumann’s Piano Quintet, a lusciously attractive combination. In the Mozart, Lebhardt was the pianist, supporting Alessandro Ruisi (violin), Emma Wernig (viola) and Bartholomew LaFollette (cello). It took the repeat of the exposition for it to be clearly defined, after which the ensemble mined the rich seam of drama in the development section.

The slow movement was as tender as could be imagined. In the rondo finale, Lebhardt turned the various returns to the theme into fascinating mini-cadenzas,  but the four players were a little tentative in their interactions.

A more familiar combination of players turned out for the Schumann. Baker’s fellow-violinist was Oliver Heath, alongside Simone van der Giessen (viola) and Jamie Walton (cello), underpinned by Apekisheva’s piano. Oddly enough, this is the first work in the repertoire for this particular combination of instruments.

The second theme in the first movement, shared between cello and viola, was delightfully lyrical, straight from the heart of the Romantic era. The slow movement, more or less a funeral march, ebbed and flowed tellingly, before an ending delivered without vibrato.

 In the whirlwind Scherzo, the passage-work from the strings was especially crisp, leading into a finale that reminded us just how expert Apekisheva can be in a supporting role: she sustained an immaculate balance with the strings rather than turning it into a mini-piano concerto, particularly in the concluding fugato. The thunderous applause was appropriate, as much for the work itself as for the ending of another highly successful festival.

Reviews by Martin Dreyer

REVIEW: Martin Dreyer’s verdict on North York Moors Chamber Music Festival, ‘Tread Softly’, W B Yeats, He Wishes For The Cloths O Heaven), Marquee, Welburn Manor, August 19

Tenor James Gilchrist

THIS was an all-English evening and the first this year to include a singer. James Gilchrist lent his eloquent tenor to songs by the first great song-writer John Dowland and by Rubbra and Leighton, alongside instrumental works by Bliss and Britten.

It was a smart idea to include the two Dowland songs upon which Britten based his Lachrymae variations. Both were given in ‘consort’ versions, with a string quartet mimicking the sound of viols. It was certainly satisfactory, although we hardly felt the dance rhythms on which they were built.

What madethem a success, however, was Gilchrist’s intensity, allied to excellent diction. A sole example was his spine-tingling sforzando twice on ‘hell’ in the final verse of ‘Flow my tears’. ‘If my complaints’ was the very essence of melancholy, Dowland’s forte.

Britten wrote his Lachrymae, subtitled ‘Reflections on a song of John Dowland’, in 1950 for viola and piano. But this was his Op 48a, that tiny ‘a’ indicating the version he wrote 26 years later for viola and small string orchestra. It was a treat to hear it in this format, which turns the work into a virtual concerto. Simone Gramaglia was the thoughtful soloist, partnered by a star-studded octet.

Essentially this is a theme and variations in reverse, with Dowland’s ‘Flow my tears’ emerging radiantly at its close after a tortuous journey. Gramaglia led from the front, invigorating his posse with his rhythmic verve and insights.

When bold low strings (built on Will Duerden’s double bass) grew urgent, he soared high above, then asserting his authority in the cadenza. His tremolo led into a rushing passage before the calm dénouement.

In a sense we had also been in the Elizabethan era with Rubbra’s Two Sonnets by William Alabaster (1567-1640). These involved the viola of Simone van der Giessen, along with Gilchrist and the piano of Anna Tilbrook.

They were intense and prayerful, with tenor and viola blending especially well. In ‘Upon the Crucifix’ the pleading was mellowed by more positive thoughts, whereas the quite deliberate tempo of ‘On the Reed of Our Lord’s Passion’, with insistently dissonant viola and piano, underlined the agitation involved in Christian belief. Gilchrist’s delivery was a model of dramatic perplexity.

Gilchrist and Tilbrook also presented two movements from Kenneth Leighton’s cantata Earth, Sweet Earth. ‘Prelude’ sets a passage from Ruskin’s autobiography as a dreamscape, finishing high on a pianissimo falsetto. Gilchrist took it in his stride.

The icy terrain of ‘Contemplation’ by Hopkins grew ever more intense, and demanded particular accuracy from Tilbrook. She delivered in spades.

This left Bliss’s Clarinet Quintet, with Matthew Hunt in the leading role. Benjamin Baker led the strings, with the support of Emma Parker, Simone van der Giessen and Rebecca Gilliver. There was a lovely flow to the dialogue at the start, contrasting strongly with the taut, staccato excitement of the Allegro molto which melted into a contemplative mood.

The Adagietto had an elegiac aroma, progressing into a sighing romanticism. The finale was a real caper, leavened by syncopation right from the start. But there was still room for Hunt’s trademark cantabile before an exciting coda. The strings had kept close order with the clarinet, making their presence felt whenever possible. Teamwork was the order the evening.

Review by Martin Dreyer

REVIEW: Martin Dreyer’s verdict on North York Moors Chamber Music Festival, Vienna!, Welburn Manor Marquee, 17/8/24

Violinist Charlotte Scott. Picture: Matthew Johnson

THE two Viennese Schools – the classical and the post-romantic – were brought into sharp contrast in this succulent programme, in which works by Mozart and Schubert framed music by the big three of the Second Viennese Schoool, Schoenberg, Berg and Webern.

Charlotte Scott and Joseph Havlat took the stage for Mozart’s two-movement Violin Sonata in E minor, K.304, which he wrote in the wake of his mother’s death. Scott’s perceptive violin has long been a favourite with this audience, whereas Havlat’s piano is a relative newcomer, but they blended sympathetically.

They treated the Allegro’s development section as a clear attempt by the composer to exorcise his grief, its storminess bordering on anger here. The tender, sighing motif in the succeeding trio had great feeling, although the minuet – hardly a dance – was much more fiery.

Webern’s Langsamer Satz (‘slow movement’) in C minor is a student piece for string quartet. With Scott at the helm, the ensemble worked its way urgently to its central unison before a muted elegy and a satisfyingly tender final pianissimo.

In similar vein was Berg’s Adagio, a distillation for trio of the slow movement of his Chamber Concerto. Here Scott’s violin was joined by Matthew Hunt’s clarinet, the two phrasing sensitively while Ariel Lanyi’s piano was intuitive in initiating mood changes.

Webern saw the commercial sense of thinning down Schoenberg’s First Chamber Symphony from the original 15 players to a mere quintet. Here we had the rare chance to hear the version with flute and clarinet alongside piano trio.

Forthrightly led by Alena Baeva’s violin, with Lanyi at the piano, the ensemble delivered clarity and vigour in equal measure, with contrastingly elegant lines in the Adagio before an exciting climax.

But the best was, incredibly, yet to come. Schubert’s Fantasy in C major, D.934 is rightly regarded as an Everest of the violin and piano repertoire, not to be undertaken lightly. Benjamin Baker’s violin was on fire and he played with assuringly few glances at his score.

Vadym Kholodenko recorded this work last year with his regular duo partner Alena Baeva. So we were in the hands of experts: both clearly knew the score in every sense. There was an immediacy here that felt utterly spontaneous, from the teasingly enigmatic opening to the spine-tingling final Presto.

En route, Baker was amazingly fluent, throwing off the variations on Sei Mir Gegrüsst (I Greet You), a song of romantic yearning, with carefree abandon after a gaily dancing czardas: we had eloquent rubato, dazzling pizzicato, breathtakingly accurate moto perpetuo, it was all there.

Kholodenko was with him every step of the way, indeed spurring him on: their relish was intoxicating. They were not afraid to be coolly meditative in the Allegretto before a finale of heart-stopping virtuosity. This was a sensational performance, surely destined to be the highlight of the festival.

Review by Martin Dreyer

REVIEW: Martin Dreyer’s verdict on North York Moors Chamber Music Festival, Passing Themes, Welburn Manor Marquee, August 11

Violinist Alena Baeva. Picture: Matthew Johnson

THE 2024 North York Moors Chamber Music Festival began unusually with the Baroque before moving into more familiar Romantic territory.

These days you do not expect to hear a Corelli sonata played on a modern violin and partnered by a grand piano. But we have learnt to expect the unexpected in this festival. In any case, you should never write off the supposedly inauthentic.

Alena Baeva and her regular keyboard partner Vadym Kholodenko did their utmost to bring us ‘Baroque’ atmosphere; she used very little vibrato, he much preferred the soft (left-foot) to the sustaining (right-foot) pedal. We were never going to mistake the piano for a harpsichord, but the result was satisfying anyway.

In any case, Kholodenko’s taut ornamentation highlighted the importance of his role beyond merely filling in harmony; it provided just the right underlay for Baeva’s period-style phrasing. Rhythms were always lively, and contrasts between the 11 variations on ‘La Folia’ of Corelli’s single-movement Op 5 No 12 were superbly drawn.

Rachmaninov’s last piano work, Variations on a theme of Corelli, written in 1931, is misnamed. It is also based on ‘La Folia’, an Iberian tune that first emerged in the Renaissance – and is not by Corelli at all. Dozens of composers used it as a basis for variations.

Stephanie Tang was the determined soloist here, reflecting the overriding anger in Rachmaninov’s approach. Her accents were strong and her use of staccato particularly deft. She clearly enjoyed the composer’s jack-in-the-box tendencies but was alive to his attempts to evoke the Iberian origins of the tune. I would not vouch for her total accuracy but the tension in her technique certainly made the most of the work’s tangy harmonies.

Dvořák’s Dumky Op 90 – never named a piano trio but actually his fourth – delves as deeply as he ever did into his Bohemian roots. The title is the plural of dumka, a primarily reflective song that tends to alternate slow melancholy with rapid dance-like sections, in keeping with its folk origins. Its six movements can be treated as two groups of three apiece, but beyond that there is no deliberate formal shape.

Benjamin Baker was the violinist, Rebecca Gilliver the cellist and Daniel Lebhardt the pianist in what was an absolutely delightful penetration of the composer’s nationalistic emotions. They constantly held back the end of a slow section so that we were kept in suspense waiting for its rapid counterpart.

Indeed, their use of rubato, so keenly felt by all three players, was superbly stylish. Dvorak makes especially strong use of the cello, and Gilliver’s warm, expansive sound matched the composer’s intentions. Not that Baker was overshadowed; both revelled in their little cadenzas in the fifth movement. We had come closest to the heart of Bohemia in the leisurely cantabile of the third movement.

The work also encompasses the most taxing piano music Dvorak ever wrote. Lebhardt was alive to all its nuances even when stretched and was a major factor in what made this such an exciting performance.

Since the word ‘dumka’ is believed to originate in Ukraine, it was impossible to ignore thoughts of that benighted country when the music turned melancholic. A marvellous curtain-raiser for the festival, which continues daily until August 24.

REVIEW: Martin Dreyer’s verdict on North York Moors Chamber Music Festival, Enlightenment, St Michael’s Church, Coxwold, August 13

Festival curator and cellist Jamie Walton. Picture: Matthew Johnson

THE special magic of this festival was neatly crystallised in this afternoon recital, which featured a Beethoven string trio and Weber’s Clarinet Quintet.

A packed, rapt audience erupted joyously at the end of each, the first a rare visitor to our concert platforms, the second a much-loved repertoire piece.

You will see it claimed that Beethoven wrote his ‘early’ string trios (he was still in his twenties) as preparation for a full-scale incursion into the world of the string quartet, as if they were but student pieces.

Not a bit of it. With only three voices – violin, viola and cello – a composer has a restricted choice of harmony. In particular, all three parts need to be fully independent, the viola in particular.

In Beethoven’s String Trio Op 9 No 1 on G, we found Meghan Cassidy’s versatile viola paired with Benjamin Baker’s violin, almost as second violin, or with Jamie Walton’s cello, as the composer played off the two duos against one another. In other words, the viola role was vital and emerged here with great clarity.

All three players attacked the bold, arpeggios of the opening allegro with relish, before a delicately song-like slow movement in which the rests were delightfully prolonged. The brisk scherzo had a ruminative trio, a nice contrast.

In the finale, the moto perpetuo tailed off mid-stream into an apparent cul-de-sac. But the joke was on us and the rapid syncopation resumed, right into an accelerated coda. This was Beethoven the adventurer, while still learning from Haydn.

Weber’s Clarinet Quintet is a work of almost relentless jollity – and thoroughly good fun. Matthew Hunt is a clarinettist known for his sense of humour, so the score is tailor-made for him. With Charlotte Scott leading the string quartet, there was lively support for his sprightly cavorting. But the heart of the work lay elsewhere, in the deeply melancholic Adagio.

Here, Hunt’s quiet, superbly sustained legato brought tears to the eyes, these eyes anyway. Towards the end he produced two echo-scales so pianissimo that they were virtually a whisper, a prodigious feat of breath control – and very moving.

The succeeding Scherzo brimmed over with wit and good humour, a total contrast and genuinely funny. The finale was never going to reach these heights, but we could only marvel as Hunt’s unashamed virtuosity carried the day through Weber’s flirtations with vapidity.

REVIEW: Martin Dreyer’s verdict on Post War Paris and Trio Mazzolini, North York Moors Chamber Music Festival

Nicholas Daniel: “Restrained crescendo”

North York Moors Chamber Music Festival: Post War Paris; Trio Mazzolini, Welburn Manor Marquee, August 19 and 20

POULENC was the chosen representative of Paris in the eras after the two World Wars, with Prokofiev in his neo-classical prime characterising the Roaring Twenties. But last Thursday evening’s programme was given in more or less reverse chronological order.

Poulenc’s only three sonatas for solo wind instruments date from the last five years of his life. All were written in memory of friends as he began to contemplate his own demise. But they are far from elegiac, combining reminiscence with levity: Poulenc is rarely able to keep a straight face for long.

The Oboe Sonata of 1962, the last to be written, is the most outwardly mournful of the three and remembers Prokofiev. Nicholas Daniel’s oboe took a leisurely approach to the opening Élégie, describing a giant arch that reached a restrained crescendo before subsiding placidly, accompanied every step of the way by Katya Apekisheva’s sensitive piano.

The scherzo was typically flippant, but more than balanced by a pensive finale, where the action was mainly in the piano while the oboe wept.

Five years earlier, Poulenc had written his Flute Sonata, formally in memory of his patron
Elizabeth Sprague but fired by the spirit of his friend Raymonde Linossier. Thomas Hancox brought verve to the puckish opening, with smooth legato in the central Cantilena. He was even lighter on his toes in the finale – which is briefly interrupted by an elegy when Poulenc remembers to be serious.

Hancox brought a trigger-jerk to the start of every phrase, which was fine at exciting moments but distracting when the going was supposed to be calmer.

The sounds of Paris were much more apparent in the Clarinet Sonata, where Matthew
Hunt was soloist, partnered by Alasdair Beatson’s piano. Although in memory of Honegger, it was written for Benny Goodman, hence its several nods towards jazz. Its central Romanza was especially affecting but the shrieks in the finale were pure Benny. This duo mixed flair with finesse.

Prokofiev’s Quintet in G minor, Op 39 began life as a ballet, Trapeze, written in 1924, using the unusual combo of oboe and clarinet, with violin, viola and double bass. It reeks of circus life. The winds are so dominant in the opening that one feared for balance, but the double bass led the way in the following movement, often made to sound like a cello, with quirkily dissonant outcomes.

Similarly later, rapid bass pizzicato, imitated by the other strings, led to a crazy ending in the Allegro Precipitato. Straight out of the Twenties, the finale, although in three-time, was more Charleston than waltz. Nikita Naumov’s bass was the star of this show.

Poulenc’s Trio, Op 43, written only two years after the Prokofiev, was much more backward-looking, even nostalgic in its romanticism. It linked Daniel’s oboe and Beatson’s piano to Amy Harman’s bassoon. Its long-limbed Andante might almost have been late Brahms; it was lovingly presented.

The trio made teasing use of the many rests at the end of their jaunty Rondo, probing Poulenc’s wit to its limits.

Last Friday lunchtime, it was the turn of the Trio Mazzolini to take their place as the last of the Young Artists in the festival, an initiative, incidentally, that has been a great success by all accounts.

Piano trios by Haydn and Mendelssohn framed the 1998 trio by Judith Weir. This is a work of refreshing directness and clarity that wears its heart on its sleeve. The bells of St Mark’s, Venice ring through the opening movement which radiates exotic tints of the barcarole that is Schubert’s Gondelfahrer, its inspiration.

The strings handled the harmonics of the Scherzo deftly, and the taut curlicue motif in the
finale was positively crystalline here. The Mazzolinis clearly revelled in this idiom.

The Haydn, a late work in C major, was notable for the ensemble’s use of rubato, which carried more than a hint of signposting that the music does not need. Still, Harry Rylance’s piano passagework in the finale was impressive, even if his partners struggled to achieve a good balance.

We heard more from the strings in Mendelssohn’s Trio No 2 in C minor, although Yurie Lee’s cello could have afforded to project even more. The highlight was the Andante, the trio negotiating its rolling acres beautifully together and bringing it to a lovely close.

There was exciting propulsion in the Scherzo and the sweeping piano chorale in the final Allegro heralded a sweet-toned outpouring from Jack Greed’s violin. This is a
talented trio, with Rylance an exceptionally agile pianist, even if one could not always be sure that he was listening to his colleagues as keenly as he might.

This brought an end to my festival, which has been even more satisfying than last year’s – and that is saying something. The Welburn Marquee must surely become a fixture. Even allowing for a few bleating lambs and the odd passing tractor, it has an intimacy that is somehow exactly suited to chamber music and the audience this year has exulted in the many treasures it has heard. The rapport between listeners and players has been second to none.

Review by Martin Dreyer

REVIEW: RyeStream, Ryedale Festival online, Matthew Hunt & Tim Horton, July 21

Matthew Hunt & Tim Horton; Castle Howard Long Gallery, July 21

TUCKED down slightly apologetically at one end of the Long Gallery at Castle Howard, when performers are usually in its centre, Matthew Hunt and Tim Horton’s clarinet and piano made a short tour around Fantasy Pieces by Schumann, Widmann and Ireland. Shorter perhaps than it might have been, at rather under 40 minutes, but these days we must be grateful for small mercies.

They were certainly worth waiting for. Schumann’s Three Fantasy Pieces, Op 73 all date from February 1849, one of the composer’s most fertile periods, and are also related by key, the first being in A minor and its partners in A major.

In his introduction, Hunt referred to them as a mini song-cycle, and his own legato was distinctly song-like. In the first, marked Zart und mit Ausdruck (tender and with expression), it was a joy to hear the main melody so soulfully weaving between the two players, with Horton’s keyboard coming subtly to the fore when opportunity allowed. Both players brought delicate touches to the light central piece, bursting into much greater passion in the finale.

A clarinettist himself, the German composer Jörg Widmann wrote his solo Fantasie in 1993, at the age of 20. It has become something of a calling-card for the instrument. Its restless range of extended techniques was smoothly negotiated by Hunt, who seemed to revel in its wave-like motions. Still, it is a work that prompts awe rather than outright pleasure.

John Ireland’s 1943 piece, Fantasy-Sonata in E flat, was apparently inspired by his evacuation by sea from Guernsey when the German occupation began. Certainly there is a persistently undulating figure in the piano that provides a watery backdrop.

But in other respects, while Hunt maintained a lyrical brio in the clarinet, Horton refused to allow the lush piano part to overshadow him. Only in the march-like closing section did both players spring clear of Ireland’s rhapsodic moods to reach a triumphant conclusion – presumably on the mainland.                                                                                                       

Review by Martin Dreyer

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