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, 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.