Lighting up the lead role: Reuben Khan as Joseph in York Stage’s Joseph And The Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat
REUBEN Khan will play the lead role for York Stage for the first time in Joseph And The Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat from tomorrow (12/4/2024).
Not that the third-year University of York psychology student is a stranger to stepping into the spotlight in a Nik Briggs production at the Grand Opera House, York.
“I had more than a week’s notice this time, that’s the main difference,” says Reuben, 23, seated with his Technicolor attire behind him in Dressing Room No 1 ahead of Tuesday’s rehearsal.
“For Beautiful [the Carole King musical], Nik called me a week before the show opened to say, ‘look, you wouldn’t happen to be free, to play Gerry Goffin in the early performances, would you?’.”
Frankie Bounds had been rehearsing the role of King’s co-songwriter, husband and ‘serial womaniser’ for his last performance in York before starting studies at Mountview Academy of Theatre Arts.
“He’d checked with Mountview early on that it would be OK, but then suddenly Frankie was told he’d have to go down to the theatre school in the first week, and that’s why I stepped in. That was an interesting experience,” recalls Reuben.
“I didn’t know much about the show, I hadn’t seen it before. So I had to learn a few songs and learn the lines as quickly as possible, and l loved doing it. Obviously the music is phenomenal, the story moves at a pace and it’s just a great show – and it was nice to have the chance to watch Frankie when he came back during the second week.”
Reuben, from Burnley, has past experience of appearing in Andrew Lloyd Webber and Tim Rice’s Joseph. “I did the show twice when I was 12, once at my school, Unity School, and then with Basics Junior Theatre School. Both times I played Judah [one of Jacob’s sons], and there was a crossover between the two productions. I finished one and, not long after, I did the other.”
He is delighted to be taking on the title role, performing alongside Hannah Shaw’s Narrator and Amy Barrett’s Pharaoh, among others.
“It’s one of those shows where the vast majority of people have come into contact with it, whether it’s at school or, in my case, my mother having the songs on in the car,” says Reuben. Then there’s the film, and there’s always a tour going on or a local production – or people may know the Bible story of Joseph.
Reuben Khan performing in York Stage’s Joseph And The Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. Picture: Charlie Kirkpatrick
“I knew the vast majority of songs already, so I feel like I’ve barely touched the book because the songs were ingrained in me!”
Following in the sandal steps of the likes of Jason Donovan, Phillip Schofield, Donny Osmond, Lee Mead and Joe McElderry holds no fears for Reuben. “Honestly, it’s great fun. It’s a funny role to some extent, as you can kind of understand some of the qualms that his brothers have about him! Joseph is flawed, and you think, if I was one of his brothers, I’d be having problems with him,” he says.
“But at the same time, he represents the everyman. Yes he’s flawed but he tries his best, people around him either like him or they don’t, and there’s something nice about playing a character who the audience is rooting for. It’s good fun.”
Reuben has enjoyed responding to the direction of Nik Briggs. “He has this overarching vision that he puts across incredibly well, to get the best out of us by directing in a very fluid, creatively free way, which is massively important, without micro-directing us,” he says. “He also has this ability to stay level-headed, which is such a skill, something that I’ve not seen in a lot of people in his position.”
Reuben’s preparations have stretched beyond rehearsals to ensuring he will be in peak fitness for a role that involves “wearing not a lot of clothes” (except when he is in his “day to day” coat or the Technicolor dreamcoat of the title).
“It’s all part of the tongue-in-cheek side of the show that Joseph is this half-dressed man! When I knew I would be doing the role, initially it was at the back of my mind, but in the past two months it’s been very much to the front – and at the same time, I’m trying to focus on the third year of my university studies too!
“I’ve never spent so much time keeping an eye on what I’m eating, going to the gym most days of the week for six weeks, to be in the best shape – just in time for the summer!”
On top of his Joseph rehearsals and university studies, Reuben is in the middle of auditioning for drama schools. “I’m studying psychology, but I want to go into musical theatre, and the second I say I’m studying psychology, they say, ‘oh, that’s really interesting’!” he says of his auditions at Associated Studios and the Royal Academy of Music in London to do a Masters degree in musical theatre.
“I guess it’s because psychology is all about understanding people, and that’s the same with acting, understanding a character.”
Now, after such roles as Rapunzel’s Prince in Into The Woods and Bobby in Company for the university’s Central Hall Musical Society, Reuben is ready to go, go, go, Joseph from tomorrow.
York Stage in Joseph And The Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat, Grand Opera House, York, April 12 to 20, 7.30pm except April 14, 15 and 19; 2.30pm, April 13 and 20; 4pm, April 14; 5pm and 8pm, April 19. Box office: atgtickets.com/york.
Micklegate Singers: “Laying out a typically adventurous menu”
IN a Lent-themed programme entitled Beyond The World, the Micklegate Singers under Nicholas Carter laid out a typically adventurous menu built round the first complete performance of A Quaker Trilogy, featuring three composers responding to a text by William Penn.
Renaissance motets framed mainly living composers reflecting on life and death. At the start, Manuel Cardoso’s setting of a lesson for Maundy Thursday matins showed admirable restraint, well suited to a slow-moving soprano line against more active polyphony in the lower voices. His style typified the mid-17th century Portuguese penchant for colourful harmony, which was conveyed neatly here.
At the end of the evening, dynamic contrasts and smooth metre-changing lent Byrd’s Haec Dies plenty of excitement. Owing more than a little to its style was Howells’ setting of the same text, heard immediately before, with its leaping octaves before the final climax every bit as exultant.
Rhythmic spice was less evident in many of the modern works. The various sections of Matthew Martin’s Missa Brevis (St Dominic), interspersed through the first half, were a welcome exception, with a particularly lively ‘Gloria’ and carefree abandon at the first ‘Hosanna’ in the Sanctus.
On paper, the Penn trilogy looked like an excellent idea. But the chosen passage, doubtless well known to Quakers from its use at memorial meetings, but less so to those of other faiths, was heavily freighted with eschatological philosophy and not an obvious choice for musical setting. For its meaning to remain clear, it required delicate handling and minimal use of polyphony, a severe handicap to the University of York composers concerned.
The poster for the Micklegate Singers’ Beyond The World concert
David McGregor took some time to thin his texture into clarity, before reaching a spacious close evoking eternity. Joe Bates began chordally and was alive to the flow of words, even introducing some humming, before a thoughtful finish. Frederick Viner, the only one to set the entire passage, also took a mainly chordal approach, concluding with a low-lying intimacy that respected the text’s vision.
All three settings had something positive to offer. But it is doubtful whether they should be heard consecutively; they were not on this occasion. Having the same text set by three composers simultaneously is perhaps not such a great idea: who wants to hear the same message three times over? But don’t take my word for it. The three versions will be heard together on June 8 at The Mount School, at 1pm, as part of the York Festival of Ideas (entrance is free).
Other contributions, all tastefully handled, came from Ivo Antognini, whose modal Lux Aeterna benefited from gentle counterpoint and close harmony, and Ben Parry’s thoughtful Lighten Our Darkness.
James Whitbourn, who had died at the age of 60 only 12 days earlier, was represented by He Carried Me Away In The Spirit, a slow-moving meditation from the Book of Revelation memorable for its ecstatic phrase on ‘holy Jerusalem’.
Best of all these, however, was James MacMillan’s Who Shall Separate Us?, which keeps its words from Romans paramount. Its very high forceful Alleluia before an extremely hushed Amen were superbly done.
The Micklegate Singers are Yorkshire’s most adventurous chamber choir. Long may they remain so.
The poster for Micklegate Singers’ Beyond The World concert
MICKLEGATE Singers will give the first complete performance of A Quaker Trilogy, William Penn’s words of comfort, set by three burgeoning York composers at Saturday’s concert at St Lawrence’s Church, Lawrence Street, York.
Those works will be Frederick Viner’s The Truest End, David McGregor’s They That Love and Joe Bates’s Absence.
“Over the last season or so, the Micklegate Singers have been drip-feeding a set of three commissions into our concert programmes by wonderful new composers from the University of York,” says chair Sarah Sketchley.
“These are based on Quaker words of comfort by William Penn, chosen by the commissioner, and are about to be performed as a full set for the first time since being published by University of York Music Press (UYMP).”
Directed by Nicholas Carter, Saturday’s Beyond The World programme also will feature music of mourning by Manuel Cardoso (Et Egressus Est A Filia Sion) and James MacMillan (Who Shall Separate Us?), through music of the light from Ivo Antognini (Lux Aeterna) and James Whitbourn (He Carried Me Away In The Spirit), to the brightness of Herbert Howells’ Haec Dies and William Byrd’s work of the same name.
Matthew Martin’s Mass of St Dominic and Ben Parry: Lighten Our Darkness will be performed too. Tickets for the 7.30pm concert will be available at the door with free admission for anyone in full-time education and accompanied children.
Maxwell String Quartet: George Smith, violin, Colin Scobie, violin, Elliott Perks, viola, and Duncan Strachan, cello
Maxwell String Quartet, BMS York Concerts, Sir Jack Lyons Concert Hall, University of York, March 8
WELL, the performance of Haydn’s iconic Quartet in E-flat major (Op.20 No.1) was breathtaking in its flawless technique, balance and engagement.
The opening lengthy Allegro seemed almost effortless in both the technical demands and instrumental interplay. The music is so intelligent, radically so, and the Maxwell String Quartet’s playing reflected and thrived on this.
The minuet (placed second), with its enigmatic trio, was thoroughly enjoyable. I loved the viola’s role in joining the party late and harmonically directing the listener back to the minuet via the back door of F minor. The Presto finale was bristling with vitality, rhythmic syncopations and rolling modulations. A great signing off.
But it was the Affettuoso e sostenuto which lingered. This is a quite extraordinary movement of real emotional depth and the performance delivered.
Quite extraordinary too, were the Quartet’s wonderful transcriptions or ‘impressionistic and sensitive reworkings’ of traditional Scottish Folk Worksongs. These were drawn from and inspired by explorations of traditional music drawn from “Scotland’s hardworking societies”: fishing, tweed and wool making and so forth.
The Quartet played these with as much care to detail – nuanced phrasing and insight – as they had brought to the Haydn. I liked the democratic reversal of violin leads too.
These were prefaced by a Scottish tune underpinned by a bagpipe cello drone aimed at irritating the ghost of Mendelssohn. The great man evidently disliked the traditional instrument. A nice touch.
Mendelssohn’s magnificent Quartet No.6 in F minor (Op.80) was written in response to the death of his beloved sister Fanny in May 1847. The choice of key here, F minor, deliberately reinforces the emotional tension since there will be greater tension on the strings.
This was helpfully explained by cellist Duncan Strachan, whose engaging, informative vocal commentary throughput the concert added a welcome layer of inclusivity and engagement.
The raw emotion was evident from the start of the Allegro vivace assai. The musical narrative was convincingly propelled forwards (echoes of late Beethoven Op.95) and right on the edge, leaving this listener feeling unsettled yet gripped.
The Allegro assai exploded in the same dramatically driven, angst-ridden direction. Not sure why, but I heard pre-echoes of Tippett, maybe the String Quartet No.2. Anyway, the stabbing, brutal syncopations here reinforced the mood of anger and despair; the dramatic shock being even greater as this is not what we expect in a civilised, traditional scherzo. Whilst in the contrasting trio section, the violins play a haunting, ethereal melody over cello and viola octaves.
Mercifully there was some respite in the form of the poignant Adagio. Here the playing captured the mood of tenderness, sadness and loss. But it is the calm before the musical storm and the closing Finale once again ripped forwards. The movement culminates in the first violin ratcheting up the already palpable tension to a thrilling, if decidedly defeated, conclusion. Quite something.
And that should have been that. Just spontaneous appreciation in the form of loud applause. But no, the Maxwell Quartet gave us an encore, two in fact. Back to Scottish folksong. Both beautifully played and very well received. It’s just that they unnecessarily diminished my experience of their remarkable performance of the Mendelssohn.
Carly Bednar in rehearsal for her role as Leila Arden in Griffonage Theatre’s Rope. Picture: Ella Tomlin
HALFWAY through her MA in theatre studies, Katie Leckey is directing York company Griffonage Theatre in their Theatre@41 debut in Patrick Hamilton’s thriller Rope from Wednesday to Saturday.
Built around an invitation to a dinner party like no other, against the backdrop of Britain’s flirtation with fascism, this 1929 whodunit states exactly who did it, but the mystery is: will they be caught? Cue a soiree full of eccentric characters, ticking clocks and hushed arguments.
Leckey’s cast comprises predominantly actors aged 21 or 22: Nick Clark as Wyndham Branson; Will Obson as Charles Granillo; Jack Mackay as Rupert Cadell; Carly Bednar as Leila Arden; Peter Hopwood as Kenneth Raglan and Molly Raine as Sabot.
They will be joined by two older actors, Liam Godrey as Sir Johnstone Kentley and Frankie Hayes as Mrs Debenham. Alicia Oldsbury is the set designer; Grace Trapps, the costumier; Margaux Campbell, the fight choreographer.
“We are so excited to have audiences begin to see this show!” says Katie. “It’s been something of a passion project for me and the entire process has been so rewarding already.”
Katie Leckey directing the University of York Gilbert and Sullivan’s Society’s Patience, aloongside production manager Sam Armstrong. Picture: Charlie Kirkpatrick
Here, CharlesHutchPress puts questions to director Katie Leckey on staging Rope, the rise of Griffonage Theatre and her plans for the year ahead.
When and where did you form Griffonage Theatre?
“We were formed about a year ago after a University of York Shakespeare Society production of Julius Caesar that I directed and in which my fellow co-artistic director, Jack Mackay, played Caesar.
“We realised that we had very similar creative styles and overlapping interests during that rehearsal process and this sparked a discussion about how we could branch out of university and into the York theatre scene.
Griffonage Theatre co-artistic director Jack Mackay rehearsing his role as Rupert Cadell. Picture: Ella Tomlin
“We were keen to put on plays that are underperformed (like Rope) or a little bit strange, silly or macabre! York is the perfect place to do this as there’s such a wealth of storytelling potential and inspiration everywhere!
“Jack and I like to (half) joke that we would get nothing done without our amazing executive producer, Anna Njoroge, who is basically a wizard at organisation and the main reason our ideas aren’t sitting dormant in our heads!”
How is the University of York involved?
“Like I say, Griffonage wouldn’t have been born had it not been for the university’s performance societies and the experience that we got from being involved in those. Jack is now chair of the Shakespeare Society, and I learnt a lot from directing and performing with and eventually being the chair of the Gilbert and Sullivan Society, especially about adapting older texts for audiences today in an accessible way – something that is a real goal of our company.
“Jack is studying English Literature at the uni, and I just finished the same degree for my undergraduate studies, so we’re also very keen to explore new writing and ways of facilitating that being put on in the city, alongside putting on adaptations of more well-established playwrights.”
Molly Raine’s Sabot, left, and Frankie Hayes’ Mrs Debenham. Picture: Ella Tomlin
What is your specialist focus in your MA in theatre studies?
“I’m halfway through my MA in theatre-making and it’s just amazing! I’m very interested in physical theatre and clowning in my individual practice as a performer. As a director, though, I find the juiciest plays are the ones that have darker themes that I can present through the guise of light-heartedness.
“I think the best plays are ones that aren’t easily labelled as one thing or another, which is why I’m drawn to surrealist and absurdist themes and imagery as well. The MA has equipped me so far with lots of practical skills in running rehearsals, workshops and (perhaps most importantly) working with others in an ensemble to create interesting and often experimental art.”
What first brought you to York?
“I’m originally from Northern Ireland – from the rural town of Ballyclare about 20 minutes away from Belfast – and came over here to study for my undergrad degree – I liked it so much that I’ve decided to stay! It’s just the most gorgeous, historic place and I love the fact that everyone knows everyone somehow or other! Also being able to access so much theatre and arts on my doorstep here was definitely a draw as well.
Katie Leckey exercising her comedic chops as Samuel Beckett in University of York Drama Society’s 2023 Edinburgh Fringe show, Dan Sinclair’s The Courteous Enemy. Picture:Tegan Steward
Where did you take your first steps in theatre?
“I was so privileged to have a great drama teacher at my secondary school, who put on a musical in our assembly hall every year! My first production was Annie when I was around 13 or so, and I just remember growing in confidence after each rehearsal and the feeling of becoming an entirely different person for a few hours!
“As time went on, I had singing lessons and just kept acting in anything I could on the side of everything else. Obviously, I enjoy the bigger picture of storytelling, because I decided to do an English Lit degree, but it was only when I was given the chance to direct Patience as part of the Gilbert and Sullivan Society in my second year of Uni (after a bit of a hiatus from all things theatre during Covid) that all the stars aligned for me.
“I realised that directing was a way of combining all my passions and interests into one activity! And I’ve been absolutely determined tm make, and be in, as much theatre as I can ever since!”
Katie Leckey as the Duchess in University of York Gilbert and Sullivan Society’s 2023 production of The Gondoliers. Picture: Charlie Kirkpatrick
Hence the rise of Griffonage Theatre. Why choose that name?
“If you ask the dictionary, Griffonage means ‘careless handwriting: a crude or illegible scrawl’. Jack and I felt like the word really summed up our creative process – something that’s a little careless, crude (mostly from my end) or even illegible is usually the spark for our ideas, and we are so passionate about how we turn these scrawls into something palpable for audiences to enjoy!
“We also liked how it has connotations with the mythical beast the Griffin, as we’re constantly in awe of things that are inexplicable, fantastical and ancient.”
What is Griffonage Theatre’s mission statement?
“We are a team of York-based storytellers who leap at the opportunity to shock and delight. We revel in the grotesque, in the weaving of new worlds, and in sharing the beauty and terror of humanity’s strangest stories.
“Our ambition is to reveal the dark hearts of stories across a wide range of genres: to galvanise narratives that have been lost and to foster the creation of exciting, original work.”
Griffonage Theatre’s cast for Poe In The Pitch Black at the Perky Peacock cafe. Picture: Lotty Farmer
What has the company done so far?
“We had a sold-out site-specific show, Poe In The Pitch Black, at the Perky Peacock café [in the mediaeval, wood-beamed Barker Tower on North Street]. We adapted three of Edgar Allan Poe’s short stories and told them in the dark, using age-old practical theatrical techniques to spook our audiences!
“We crammed them in! We were able to get 20 spectators in, along with five actors. It was definitely a squeeze in the lower room!
“A particular highlight of the show was the creation of a puppet for the character of the old man in the Tell Tale Heart (performed by Will Osbon, who is returning to play Charles Granillo in Rope), which we were told sufficiently creeped out a lot of our audience!”
How did the chance to perform at Theatre@41 emerge?
“I had the joy of performing in York Settlement Community Players’ Government Inspector last October and got to know the brilliant Alan Park [Theatre@41’s chair], as he was directing the show!
Katie Leckey’s Dobchinsky in York Settlement Community Players’ Government Inpector. Picture: Sarah Ford
“I approached him with the idea of putting a play on at the theatre and was completely shocked that he didn’t shrug me off right away; in fact he was keen that we got everything sorted as soon as possible!
“It’s truly a privilege to be able to put our show on at all, never mind in a space at the heart of the community in York! It’s just so special!”
What attracted you to Patrick Hamilton’s 1929 play Rope?
“It’s just genius. Its readability was the first thing that struck me – the stage directions are a hoot! I really recommend for people to read the play, as well as watching it, as it really is fantastic. Hamilton’s grasp of character is phenomenal.
“The play is at once funny and dark, light but intense, deeply philosophical yet entirely playful. I was also fascinated by the fact that it was so heavily concerned with the rise of British fascism pre-World War Two. It’s such a poignant meditation on war, justice, self-awareness and the value of all human life.
Liam Godfrey as Sir Johnstone Kentley, left, Nick Clark as Wyndham Brandon and Peter Hopwood as Kenneth Raglan in the Rope rehearsal room. Picture: Ella Tomlin
“It’s also genuinely hilarious and includes a lot of delightful witticisms and snarky comments. The fact that it is based on a real murder case also intrigued me greatly. With the growing popularity of ‘true crime’ as a genre, it’s utterly fascinating to see a play that attempts to directly confront its viewers with their own desire to witness violence and its consequences.
“It’s very interesting from a queer perspective as well. Without spoiling too much, I would recommend contemplating what the overt and implied relationships between the characters say about the implications of the story itself.
What does Rope say to a modern audience?
“Aside from a few 1920s slang terms, Rope is inherently modern in its sensibilities, despite the fact it has nearly been 100 years since its first performance. (Indeed, this isn’t surprising considering Hamilton coined the thoroughly modern word ‘gaslight’).
“This is why we’ve chosen to make the set look like it hasn’t been moved for 100 years – as something of a time capsule, but also a direct reflection of today. The play acts as a warning for what can happen if you let insidious beliefs and attitudes fester, but beyond this it asks the audience to evaluate themselves what justice looks like, and if it is attainable or desirable at all.
“Furthermore, it delights in the small things: dancing, eating, drinking and socialising – reminding audiences that while they should be alert to little cruelties and genuine evils alike, there is still some good in most people, and this can be seen in the most unlikely of circumstances, including an outré dinner party.”
Mollie Raine’s Sabot and Nick Clark’s Wyndham Brandon in a light moment mid-rehearsal. Picture: Ella Tomlin
Have you seen Alfred Hitchcock’s groundbreaking single-take 1948 film version, shot with the camera kept in continuous motion?
“I love this question! Yes! I actually watched it as soon as I finished reading theplay for the first time! I remember turning to Jack in utter amazement at somemoments (mostly when Jimmy Stewart did anything as Rupert – his performance is phenomenal!) and in complete horror at the extraordinarycensorship that the film was subject to!
“The deviation from Hamilton’s originalis masterful in a way only Hitchcock is, and the choice to set it in post-WW2America is also a stroke of total genius, but it does, at least in my opinionremove some of the most unique and interesting qualities of the original.”
When did you last attend a dinner party?
“For my friend Grace’s birthday a few months ago. It was so much fun, we dressed up in formal clothes and had a little boogie afterwards as well!”
Who would be your ideal guests at a dinner party and why?
“This is so tough! I would have to say Oscar Wilde as he was the subject of my dissertation at undergrad and I would honestly love to be the butt of some of his quips. My fiancé Peter Hopwood (who plays Raglan in the show!) because I feel like I always need a wingman to back me up in dinner party-discussion and he certainly knows me best!
Peter Hopwood: Ideal dinner party guest, fiancé and Rope cast member. Picture: Ella Tomlin
I would also love Mary Wollstonecraft [18th century British writer, philosopher and advocate of women’s rights] to be there just because I feel like she would be so interesting to chat with about philosophy and womanhood.
“I would invite Dolly Parton because she’s just the greatest and my complete idol. I would bring Jack [co-artistic director Jack Mackay] as a scribe, so I could remember what we chatted about. Finally, I think I would invite Samuel Beckett, just to ask him what on earth was he thinking when he wrote his televised play Quad.”
What makes a good dinner party?
“A good host. Unfortunately for the characters in Rope…
“Also some gentle jazz music in the background is a must; it just feels too awkward otherwise!”
Katie Leckey as Jennet Marlin in York Theatre Royal’s 2023 community play, Sovereign, at King’s Manor, Exhibition Square, York. Picture: James Drury
You participated in York Theatre Royal’s community play, Sovereign, at King’s Manor last summer. In a cast of thousands (!), who did you play?
“I played Jennet Marlin (spoiler alert: she was a baddie!) – and what a great time I had. Playing her was a little bit out of my comfort zone but I grew to love her and her very sour face! The people I met as part of it was definitely the highlight. I also LOVED the costume; it made me feel like a real princess – and as a person who usually plays fools this was a unique occasion!”
What comes next for you and Griffonage Theatre?
“Oh, now that would be telling… but since you’ve pulled my leg – personally I’m going to finish my masters in September and start looking for jobs in the industry and I’m also hoping to get married in the winter!
“Griffonage are making our return to Theatre@41 in July this year, and we can’t WAIT to reveal what we’re up to!”
Griffonage Theatre in Rope, Theatre@41, Monkgate, York, February 21 to 24, 7.30pm. Box office: tickets.41monkgate.co.uk.
BMS York presents Lumas Winds, Sir Jack Lyons Concert Hall, University of York, January 5
LUMAS Winds opened their programme with a confident performance of Mozart’s Magic Flute Overture. There are no hiding places in this music; technique is very much on the line and the crisply articulated playing throughout was both brave as well as admirable. Enjoyable too.
David Matthews’ Three Woodwind Studies, a set of personal, intimate portraits, was a delight. A Song For Emma (solo flute), with its charming melodic ebb and flow, was beautifully judged by Beth Stone.
Chris Vettraino’s performance of A Birthday Song (oboe) was both haunting and hypnotic. A Study For Sam (solo clarinet) was a first performance and proved to be a quirky, fun-filled gem.
Mozart’s Divertimento in F is an early work written in 1775. To be sure, it is more of a window into what was to come, but impressive nonetheless. The writing was full of confidence with each instrument given a share of the spoils. The playing was wonderful, the balance impeccable.
Sally Beamish’s The Naming Of Birds proved to be an evocative set of character pieces; very imaginative and quite unlike anything I have heard before. Each of these five demanding movements had five soloists evoking the call of each bird – partridge (horn), lapwing (oboe) and so forth.
I did find the actual live recorded introductions a tad contrived and frankly unnecessary, but it was a very engaging work and very well performed. However, not for the first time when listening to Ms Beamish’s music, the work left me impressed rather than moved.
Actually, I felt the same about Malcom Arnold’s Three Shanties. Impressive performances, impressive writing but …well, it put a smile on my face. Sally Beamish’s arrangement of Mozart’s Adagio for Glass Harmonica was an entirely musical affair. The sound was so seductive with the cor anglais replacing the oboe “to give a warm, dark quality to the quintet”. Which it did. How inspired.
Unlike Anton Reicha’s Two Andantes and an Adagio. The music was pretty forgettable, in fact I’ve forgotten it already, but the performance certainly wasn’t. Delightful.
Lumas Winds ended this splendid concert with the best work in the programme – apart from the Mozart, obviously – in Elizabeth Maconchy’s terrific Wind Quintet. It was so well written by a composer so clearly still at the top of their game. She was in her mid-seventies.
An opening Allegro of quirky urgency and unsettling metrical changes; the poco Lento more expressive, weaving contrapuntal lines underpinned by a dotted rhythm throughout; the third movement, Vivo, with a bit of a musical spat between clarinet and bassoon; the Andante opening with a short clarinet and horn duo, inviting in the other instruments to the party and the closing Rondo with each soloist having their say and the cute snap ending.
The players were at one with the technical and musical demands. The performance was illuminating.
IT was a good idea to schedule two Baroque Magnificats side by side in a single Christmas programme. What was arguably less sensible was to sing them in reverse chronological order.
The large choir was joined by the chamber choir The 24, bringing its numbers up to 250, all guest-conducted by Sarah Latto.
The history of Bach’s Magnificat is not altogether simple. This Christmas marks the 300th anniversary of the premiere of his first Magnificat, which was in E flat major. Over the following three years, he revised it, cutting out its four Christmas texts so that it could be used throughout the year and transposing it into the key of D major.
That is the version normally heard. What was given here was indeed “inspired by the early version” but in the later key. So we heard it with the Christmas bonuses.
It spearheaded the evening. In the opening chorus, the Baroque Ensemble, numbering some two dozen, was immediately right on its toes. The choir took longer to find focus. In the first interpolation, ‘Vom Himmel Hoch’ (From Heaven Above), the chorale melody in the sopranos needed greater prominence.
But there was a crisp attack into ‘Omnes generationes’ and thereafter the choir was fully focused: the ending of ‘Fecit Potentiam’ was superbly triumphal and the final Gloria equally imposing.
It was entirely understandable that soloists from within the choir (all members of The 24) were used, exactly as Bach would have done. But in this dry acoustic, which is so unreceptive to solo voices, it worked only intermittently.
Only one, the soprano Molly O’Toole, had the consistent resonance to surmount this difficulty; the baritone Will Parsons ran her a close second. Both, incidentally, sang their arias by heart. All of the others, equally youthful, were never less than competent, but lacked the projection required.
The orchestra contributed strong rhythmic backing, with first-class solo work from flutes and oboes. The portative organ, however, was underpowered against these forces and the harpsichord virtually inaudible.
The ‘other’ Magnificat was by the little-known Milanese nun Chiara Margarita Cozzolani. Written in the year of Bach’s birth, 1650, it inevitably suffered by being heard in the wake of his work rather than beforehand. But it proved an engaging work, for double choir, full of imaginative metrical changes closely linked to the text, even if its harmonic palette was limited. The 24 relished its antiphonal effects.
A Sinfonia pastorale – defined as for the Christmas season by its closing movement – was led from the violin with considerable panache by Asuka Sumi, one of the Baroque Ensemble’s co-directors (the other is cellist Rachel Gray, also present here).
Thereafter we enjoyed three Michael Praetorius settings of Christmas carols, with orchestral accompaniment. Finally, Gruber’s Silent Night, to an American translation, invited audience participation.
It made for a second half that was rather less exciting than Bach’s Magnificat had been. Nevertheless, Latto had conducted decisively, mouthing all the words as choral conductors are wont to do, but achieving excellent results and infusing the choir with enthusiasm.
British Music Society of York: Daniel Lebhardt, Sir Jack Lyons Concert Hall, University of York, December 1
FEW pianists are able successfully to combine both accompaniment and solo work. But less than a week after he had appeared in a supporting role in Helmsley, Daniel Lebhardt was back in Yorkshire for this solo recital as part of the British Music Society of York’s 102nd season.
He opened with four ballades by Brahms, but thereafter interleaved Scriabin and Bartók with three Ligeti preludes. The ballades are a product of the composer’s early twenties and grouped in two pairs, the minor and major keys of D and B; they are mainly in three-part song form.
Lebhardt played them lovingly, concentrating on their melodies and keeping accompanimental figures in the background. Nowhere was this more successful than in the last, which was beautifully sustained.
We were to hear little of this approach in the rest of the programme. Ligeti’s 18 preludes are nowadays becoming de rigueur in piano recitals (two days earlier Danny Driver had included some here).
They are frequently volatile, often fast-moving, and a supreme test of virtuosity. Lebhardt was unlucky with No 6, Autumn In Warsaw, where he had a memory lapse that a re-start could not surmount, although we had sensed the falling leaves well enough. The prestissimo ending of No 15, White On White, given later, was thrilling.
The audience stayed on his side and he came back even more determined. So much so that he took out his anger on the ‘Drammatico’ opening of Scriabin’s Third Sonata, with exceptionally strong accents.
But he still managed to convey its ebb and flow. He had regained composure by the third, slow movement, which was gentle, bordering on sentimental. Fire was to return with a vengeance in the finale; it was to become a chorale by the end. He also made strong contrasts between high and low registers in Scriabin’s Vers la Flamme.
Born in Hungary, but now based in this country, Lebhardt showed a particular empathy with Bartók. The three Studies were wonderfully crisp; they must have acted as stimulants for Ligeti. The first was a whirlwind of close harmony, while in the second he brought out the theme with great clarity in the left hand. There was not much evidence of the ‘Rubato’ the composer marked in the third, but it was neatly structured nonetheless.
Bartók’s ‘Out Of Doors’ suite (Szabadban) had a special ring of truth. Lebhardt found the humour in ‘Musettes’ (although it needed to be a touch lighter), and ‘The Night’s Music’ was appropriately eerie.
‘The chase’ was highly percussive and riddled with cross-accents, in true Allegro Barbaro vein. Indeed, if there were a quibble about the second half, it would be that too much of the music was percussive, allowing the pianist’s lyricism little rein. But his virtuosity – with the one exception – was never in doubt.
Danny Driver: “Did not hold back from giving it the full tour-de-force treatment”
IT was testament to his versatility that no fewer than ten different composers featured in Danny Driver’s piano recital.
A first half concentrating on music for evening and night centred on Beethoven and Schumann. Thereafter music of the last 50 years included several living composers, though one suspects this was more challenging for him than for his audience.
Beethoven’s ‘Moonlight’ Sonata, Op 27 No 1 in C sharp minor, was ushered in by the gentle lilt of Schumann’s Des Abends, its unsettled accompaniment suggesting that all was not quite well with the composer’s evening.
The Beethoven was allowed to speak for itself, its opening melody strongly outlined, while menace remained in the dotted rhythms of the left hand. In a controlled scherzo, he neatly differentiated the two halves of the opening phrase – so important for what follows – into legato (first four notes) and staccato (the remaining four). Clarity was the watchword here.
So too in the finale, which was properly agitato and taken at a tremendous lick. Beethoven’s anger here was never in doubt and Driver did not hold back from giving it the full tour-de-force treatment, with heavily percussive accents like rifle shots.
Danny Driver: Virtuosity in a daring programme. Picture: Kaupo Kikkas
In contrast, Schumann’s ‘Ghost’ Variations remained intimate (‘innig’ as he marks the theme), reflecting a moment of rare calm at a time when the composer’s mental health was precarious. There was a pleasing flow to the melody. Even in the minor key variation (the fourth), we were kept in touch with the theme by its rhythm.
After a brief journey with Debussy to the swaying dances of a Grenada evening came total change in Scriabin’s ‘Black Mass’ Sonata, No 9, which bubbled up repeatedly like a witches’ cauldron. Driver perfectly reflected the score’s volatility, almost a bacchanalian orgy, which died with exhaustion in the closing bars.
After the interval we were on much newer ground. Five Ligeti Études acted as template for a series of 21st century reactions in very similar vein. With few exceptions, the later versions were pale reflections of the original.
All but two used rapid staccato figures, hovering much of the time in the very upper reaches of the keyboard with minimalist intent. At least Martin Suckling’s Orrery (with the composer present) had a distinctive bell-like underlay and grew in intensity, thereby engaging the attention.
One could only marvel at Driver’s virtuosity and wonder how he was able to memorise such similar works. It was a daring programme, but it needed something meatier at the centre of its second half.
THE core of this wonderfully programmed concert was the sensuous, perhaps even erotic text of the Song Of Solomon.
The poem celebrates love in an invitational courtship: two lovers singing to each other, desiring each other. They are in harmony in a God-free narrative that celebrates humanity.
This was particularly striking in Raffaella Aleotti’s setting of Ergo flos campi where the two lovers take the form of two unequal choirs. The energetic antiphonal exchanges were beautifully delivered by the singers.
The24’s concert opened with Flemish composer Clemens non Papa’s setting of the same text. This was a refined, controlled performance where the weaving of the seven-part setting was delightful. The balance was impeccably judged.
I was going to mention the striking high versus low setting of the ‘lily between thorns’, but as it was highlighted in the programme notes I’ve decided not to bother. I really enjoyed the ebb and flow of Hildegard of Bingen’s Flos Campi. The musical experience was undoubtedly spiritual.
James MacMillan’s setting of Robert Burns’ The Gallant Weaver was a secular musical match made in heaven. The work is brimming with the distinctive influence of Scottish folk music – the rich ornamental inflections or decoration was delightfully executed, as well as Gaelic Psalmody.
The overall effect was generally peaceful; the voicing was inspired with triple soprano divisions and gentle hanging dissonances that were exquisite. The only issue I had was the exposed bass and tenor setting of the words ‘the gallant weaver’, which jarred. Sir James, I suspect, not the choir.
The 24: “Radiating warmth and joy”
I personally find Morrissey a charmless, narcissistic individual, but there is no doubting his ability as a songwriter and performer. I really like The Smiths’ There Is A Light That Never Goes Out (written by him and guitarist Johnny Marr), and I found this arrangement by Sarah Latto and the performance itself quite sublime. It was so touching, tender and respectful.
There is much to admire in John Barber’s Song Of Songs (commissioned by The Sixteen); the intricate weaving of the musical lines, lovely ornamentation and music that rhythmically danced. But I failed to engage with the work. Not even the funky ostinato of Love Is As Strong As Death or the splendid singing in By Night could revitalise that movement’s blandness.
Unlike Judith Weir’s Vertue; a very fine performance of a very fine work. Weir’s music always shines brightly, and this was no exception. Alex Kyle made a guest appearance to conduct Schütz’ Ego Dormio; the direction was assured and the performance highly rewarding.
Kerry Andrew’s CoMa Blues was a welcome change of musical gear. The composer has forged her own clearly distinctive voice, and this short theatrical performance was spot-on.
One of the concert highlights was Victoria’s Trahe Me Post Te. It is such a delight to immerse oneself into this velvety chocolatey sound world of absolute luxury. Especially when the performance, under the inspirational direction of conductor Sarah Latto, is as polished as this.
The programme concluded with Philip Glass’s Quand Les Hommes Vivront d’Amour. This attractive work is a hymn to universal love and the responsibility that goes with it, a somewhat timely message needed right here and right now.
It had all the hallmarks of Glass’s radical, and it is indeed radical, style: effective, almost hypnotically driven motor rhythms, repetitive patterns, breathing dynamic phrasing. The performance radiated warmth and joy, a great way to sign off, to say goodnight.
