REVIEW: Martin Dreyer’s verdict on York Chamber Music Festival, various venues, September 19 to 21

Pianist Katya Apekisheva

SIX distinguished string players – pairs of violinists, violists and cellists – were joined by the equally eminent pianist Katya Apekisheva in five concerts packed into three days. The highlights of the last four are covered here.

At the National Centre for Early Music (September 19), the vigorous outer movements of Haydn’s Op 76 No 5 in D sandwiched a Largo notable for its delicate shading and a minuet whose trio was eerily mysterious.

The cracking pace of the finale was typical of the sheer enjoyment that these players brought to their task, led by Jonathan Stone.

He exchanged the leader’s chair with Charlotte Scott for Shostakovich’s Eighth, Op 110 in C minor, which erupted into a fiery motor-rhythm after its studied start. There were telling little cadenzas from her and the viola player Gary Pomeroy, but there was no disguising the underlying anger, tinged with sorrow, in this supremely biographical testament.

The original, intimate sextet version of Schoenberg’s Verklärte Nacht, vibrantly led by Scott, was notable for the balance between the voices and the transparency of its textures. Richard Dehmel’s poem, on which it is based, speaks of transformation. Here one constantly sensed the ensemble straining at the harmonic leash, reflecting the composer’s enthusiasm for change. There was also special warmth in the quartet of lower voices and a lovely delicacy at the close.

Lunchtime on the Saturday (September 20) in the Unitarian Chapel brought together the viola of Hélène Clément with the piano of Katya Apekisheva. Clément’s usual instrument, once belonging to Frank Bridge, was in for repairs, so she shelved her announced Bridge pieces and Apekisheva inserted Tchaikovsky’s October between the Rebecca Clarke and Shostakovich sonatas instead.

After a forthright opening, Clément made a useful contrast between the themes of Clarke’s first movement, the second decidedly wistful. The twinkling scherzo had a satanic streak. There might have been more restraint at the start of the finale, so as to offer more contrast with the passionate material that follows, but the crescendo on an extended tremolo boiled neatly into a brilliant coda. The duo was thoroughly alive to Clarke’s freewheeling approach.

The Shostakovich sonata is his last, an initially tortured work completed barely a month before he died in August 1975. At its centre we had a catchy scherzo, but with a dark, hypnotic core. The concluding Adagio was a wonderfully calm approach to impending death, framed by very personal cadenzas and helped by the piano’s reminiscence of the ‘Moonlight’ sonata. Apekisheva’s elegiac treatment of October had paved the way ideally.

That evening, at the Lyons Concert Hall, all seven players were on duty. It opened with a beautifully balanced account of Schubert’s Notturno, D.897, written in his final year. It offered a huge contrast between its quiet frame and the dotted rhythms at its centre. Apekisheva’s arpeggios were velvety.

With Jonathan Stone still in the leader’s chair for Schumann’s Piano Quartet, also in E flat, we were swept into an infectiously joyful milieu, reflecting the composer’s recent marriage in 1842. The opening movement’s crisp rhythms, with real drama in its development section, preceded a scherzo that was almost too forceful. Yet the slow movement was milked for every drop of sentimentality (but with an ending without vibrato), until the players let their hair down in a fun-filled finale.

Tchaikovsky’s Piano Trio in A minor brought together violinist Charlotte Scott with cellist Reinoud Ford and the redoubtable, ever-present Apekisheva. Ford had stepped nobly into the shoes of Tim Lowe, the festival director, who was enjoying an introduction to fatherhood.

Essentially in two movements, the trio is an extended elegy for the pianist Nikolai Rubinstein, written in 1882 a year after his death. As one might expect, it demands considerable virtuosity from the pianist. Apekisheva was more than equal to the task, if – rarely for her – a little too forceful in the insistent second theme (although, in her defence, it is marked fortissimo pesante).

The opening movement’s broad sweep was balanced by a theme and variations of extreme subtlety, based on a folk melody. Most memorable were the Chopin-like mazurka and skittish scherzo of the second and third variations.

We also had a touch of sugar-plum fairy and a flippant waltz, both demanding versatility from the ensemble. But mostly it was the bold, busy piano textures that quite properly dominated, with a respectful diminuendo into the final funeral march.

The six strings provided the festival’s afternoon finale, given at St Olave’s Church (September 21). Mozart’s String Quintet, K.515 in C preceded Brahms’s Second String Quintet, Op 111 in G. There was a strong contrast between the two works.

With Charlotte Scott leading and Reinoud Ford seated centrally as cellist, the Mozart was almost free of vibrato, no doubt in an attempt to deliver a ‘period’ sound. But none of the group is much known for early music and the effect was tight and restrained, as if the players felt shackled.

Nevertheless, the quintet’s emotional power was not obscured. The ‘Mannheim skyrocket’ of the opening, a high-rising arpeggio alternating between violin and cello, had its usual uplifting effect. The minuet was less telling and the slow movement can only be described as squeaky. But the final rondo, taken at a splendid clip, offered ample compensation, not least because it highlighted Charlotte Scott’s virtuosity.

For the Brahms, Jonathan Stone took over as leader and Jonathan Aasgaard was in the cello seat, with the admirable Hélène Clément and Gary Pomeroy continuing as violas. There was an immediate sense of abandon as a reasonable modicum of vibrato returned, with plenty of electricity and strong accents. Incidentally, the cello was now on the right-hand edge, reflecting its less pivotal role here.

The minor-key march had an intimate core, before Pomeroy’s viola took off in the pleasing cadenza-like ending. After the easy-going lilt of the scherzo and trio, the finale’s burst of exuberance made the perfect ending, with percussive accents at its centre and accelerating cross-rhythms in its coda.

This was a beautifully constructed festival and never less than stimulating.

Review by Martin Dreyer

REVIEW: Steve Crowther’s verdict on The Academy of St Olave’s, St Olave’s Church, Marygate, York, September 20

Conductor Alan George and the Academy of St Olave’s at St Olave’s Church, Marygate, York

A MUSICAL heart attack announced the Allegro giocoso opening of Carmen’s prelude to Act I.

The stately march – a striking Spanish-style fanfare – was splendidly led by the trumpets. Really fine flute and clarinet decorations added to the festive atmosphere. The violins – a tad fewer than usual – relished the main ‘toreador’ rhythmic drive.

The transition to the slower, darker Andante moderato was pretty seamless. Here the standout performer was Alexandra Nightingale(oboe), who clearly relished the famous ‘fate’ solo.

The clarinet, bassoon, and low strings contributed prominent supporting figures, giving the oboe’s solo a rich, smoky atmosphere. Talking of seamless, I didn’t realise I was listening to the Strauss Kaiser-Waltzer until my foot started tapping – silently, obviously.

Standouts: a lovely cello solo (Rachel Brown) gently echoed by Mark Sykes on horn, briefly joined by Becky Jobling on flute, creating a chamber-music intimacy.

The second half belonged to Sibelius and his magnificent Symphony No. 7 in C major. Despite the sectional outline in the programme notes: Adagio – Vivacissimo – Adagio – Allegro molto etc., this is a continuous single-movement work with no breaks.

It is the challenge of the conductor to ensure a sense of organic growth rather than a patchwork of varied tempo changes, and Alan George did just that.

The opening Adagio sets the tone with the cellos and violas beginning the long, slowly ascending scale that generates the symphony’s opening sustained sonority.

They were joined by the violins, which brightened the musical atmosphere: this gradual unfolding set the symphony’s sense of organic growth. To be sure, greater string numbers would have given more body to the sound— the string section is the continuous living fabric of the symphony— but the playing was nevertheless very good and effective.

There were lovely lyrical flute, oboe and clarinet (Lesley Schatzberger) contributions, as well as prominent calls, responses and climactic fanfares from Mark Sykes (horn) and Tom Taylor (trumpet). But it was the three trombone solos that could be said to form the backbone of the work— each appearance more majestic than the last— and James Stockwell’s performance was very good indeed.

Carl Nielsen’s Concerto for Flute and Orchestra (1926), like the Sibelius Symphony, is a single continuous movement lasting approximately 20 minutes. However, the Concerto falls naturally into two large sections separated by a brief pause.

A short, gentle string opening gives way to the flute’s first cadenza-like entrance: lyrical but with sudden leaps and quirky turns. The rapid staccato and brilliant arpeggio passages gave flautist Becky Jobling a chance to display her obvious technical prowess, while the plaintive, cantabile melody in the central poco adagio section was played beautifully.

I don’t usually associate humour with the music of Carl Nielsen, but the ‘military’ side drum exchanges eliciting playful trills and unexpected pauses were indeed quite witty.

But this is a flute concerto, and in the closing faster section we had the necessary virtuoso fireworks – fast tonguing passages, huge leaps, duets – more like duels – with both brass and percussion. The closing sign-off, featuring a solo cadenza and a muted, poetic “that’s all for now, folks,” was priceless.

What really struck me when listening to this splendid performance was the spectre of Igor Stravinsky and Petruska in particular. Nielsen’s concerto isn’t (obviously) imitation, but it shares Stravinsky’s love of rhythmic asymmetry, lean chamber-style orchestration and sudden colour changes, giving the Flute Concerto a modern, unsentimental brilliance.

Review by Steve Crowther

York Musical Society embraces remote rehearsal revolution for singing therapy

Zoom with a view: York Musical Society members face up for Monday’s online rehearsal

YORK Musical Society’s online rehearsals are on song and on trend, as the Monday sessions on Zoom go from strength to strength.

Session host Lesley Peatfield says: “We’ve been running them from the start of the lockdown, and I’m especially proud as a lot of our older members have successfully navigated the software to be able to manage this.

“Some have even got their first computers for lockdown to be able to appear at our regular Monday night events.” 

As many as 80 singers join in, their ages ranging from an 18-year-old bass to 90. “We meet at 7pm for the sopranos and altos and 8pm for the tenors and basses, an hour each every Monday evening, when either David Pipe, our musical director, or John Bradbury, our accompanist, each take a session, leading from the piano, and swap over each week,” says Lesley.

“As well as hosting, I keep each session running technically and answer questions in the chat box.”

In the week the nation went into Covid-19 lockdown, York Musical Society was to have performed at York Minster. “That should have been a night of Faure’s Requiem, alongside a less well-known Michael Haydn requiem, which is so beautiful,” says Lesley.

“Thank you for sending the scores out – much easier to follow,” said one York Musical Society member in the online chat room after a Monday rehearsal

“We had to cancel, of course, but we do hope to offer that programme sometime next year.”

Coming next, on Saturday, June 13 at York Minster, would have been YMS’s summer concert, Splendours Of The Baroque, a joyful programme of Vivaldi’s Gloria, Marcello’s Trumpet Concerto in D minor, Handel’s Arrival Of The Queen Of Sheba and Handel’s Coronation Anthems.

“We’ve had to cancel that concert too,” says Lesley. “The Corona-tion anthems – Zadok The Priest, Let Thy Hand Be Strengthened, The King Shall Rejoice and My Heart Is Inditing – and have never been more appropriate,” says Lesley, poignantly.

After one Zoom rehearsal, Lesley wrote on social media: “Over 80 members joined us for a bit of note bashing for Vivaldi and Handel. Even though we may never perform this, the feeling of the community coming together is priceless.”

Members’ post-session comments to Lesley on the chat line testify to the “virtual” rehearsals being such a breath of fresh singing air amid the pandemic. “Thank you – this is the highlight of my week in lockdown,” said one.

“A very big ‘thank you’ for the Monday evening rehearsals, which I am very much enjoying, and for sending the scores out – much easier to follow,” wrote another. “Thank you to David [Pipe] and to John [Bradbury] for their patience and efforts and to Lesley for her expertise in enabling the sessions.”

Zoom for improvement: York Musical Society members gather for a “virtual” singing session

A third commented: “I’d just like to express my thanks to you all for organising these online rehearsals. I think David is too modest about how valuable they are musically. We can learn a lot at this stage.

“There is no doubt they are a huge boost to the morale of all the individual members, restoring our sense of community and connection to those we cannot meet in person.”  

A fourth enthused: “It is amazing how some proper singing, even over only half an hour, leaves one with such a good feeling inside.  Can’t wait for the next session.”

The Zoom uplift each Monday is best summed up by one member, who confessed to “enjoying it far more than I thought I would”, concluding that “Singing is pure therapy”.

Such a sentiment no doubt will be shared by so many other singing groups in York and beyond, now in the grip of the “remote rehearsal revolution”, be it Ewa Salecka’s “Prima Virtual Ensemble” or Jessa Liversidge’s myriad groups.

Looking ahead, Lesley says: “ We’re rehearsing with a view to an informal performance for friends and family at St Olave’s School, where we normally rehearse in the Shepherd Hall, whenever we manage to get back to face-to-face rehearsals.” Roll on that day.