Category Archives: Classical

Review – Seventh Annual Malcolm Arnold Festival – A Night at the Ballet Gala Concert, Worthing Symphony Orchestra, Julian Lloyd Webber, Derngate, Northampton, 21st October 2012

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Last weekend was the seventh annual Malcolm Arnold Festival at the Royal and Derngate in Northampton, celebrating one of the town’s most famous sons. If you’re into the works of Arnold, this weekend is definitely for you. Concerts and talks abound, and this year they mounted a concert performance of Malcolm Arnold’s opera The Dancing Master, its first ever public performance because way back in 1952 it was considered too bawdy for the TV screen for which it was originally written. And all this entertainment for a ridiculous knock-down price too.

We usually just go to the final concert of the weekend, which this year was A Night at the Ballet with the Worthing Symphony Orchestra under the baton of John Gibbons. Mr Gibbons is an enthusiastic supporter of the festival, and conducted Arnold’s 9th Symphony last year. I didn’t think that as many people attended the concert this year as last – possibly a sign of the recessionary times in which we live. If it’s because the Northamptonians are insisting on only the best – we are used to the Royal Philharmonic after all – then let me assure you, in no way are the Worthing Symphony Orchestra inferior. They were all on fine form, and indeed we recognised the formidable presence of Mr Russell Gilbert amongst the violins, who also appears with the RPO.

At the beginning of the concert, Mr Gibbons’ arrival onstage started inauspiciously. As he walked down the stairs and the orchestra rose, like you did when the Headmaster walked in on a lesson, the musician playing the – is it the celeste? – for the first piece shifted his seat away with a flick from the back of his knees and thus his chair thereby obstructed the conductor’s path to the podium. Thwarted, Mr Gibbons had to double back and wend his way through the violins. We reckon Mr Celeste did it on purpose.

It was an evening of well-known pieces and (for us) a number of pieces we hadn’t heard before. We started with Arnold’s Homage to the Queen Suite. This is an absolutely charming, warm, lusciously tuneful piece, like a musical equivalent of comfort eating. I suppose you could call it the “greatest hits” version of the full ballet, which made it a little lop-sided structurally; quite long movements interspersed with some very short ones made it hard to tell when the piece had reached its natural conclusion. I cheated and watched till the musicians came to the last page of their sheet music so that I knew it had ended. Highly enjoyable though, and a recording of it will definitely go on my classical wishlist.

Next was the Adagio from Spartacus by Khachaturian. Old Khachaturian knew how to write a tune, didn’t he? John Gibbons said people aged 50+ will recognise it as the theme to the Onedin Line. Well, Mrs Chrisparkle, who certainly wouldn’t thank you for erroneously including her in that age bracket, was taken back to childhood reveries as she remembered watching the programme back on the old Cattle Station in the New South Wales bush of her youth. She was positively beaming throughout. The orchestra did play it stunningly beautifully. Never having liked the Onedin Line as a kid I was always a bit prejudiced against this piece of music; I may have to reappraise that unnecessarily deep-seated reaction.

On to Delius’ Cello Concerto, with soloist Julian Lloyd Webber. We saw Mr Lloyd Webber about the same time last year with the Royal Philharmonic playing Elgar’s Cello Concerto, and there’s no doubt that he’s a total star. The Delius Cello Concerto was new to me, and I thought it was stunning. Moody and tuneful, romantic but also quite violent at times I felt, you run the full gamut of emotions in less than half an hour. From a clothes point of view, which is perhaps not the best way to appraise Mr Lloyd Webber, he was in an oversized rustic white shirt, having borrowed Olivia Newton John’s headband from the “Let’s Get Physical” video. An incredibly expressive performance, and so generous to the input of the rest of the orchestra as well. For his encore, he fittingly played the first movement of Arnold’s Cello Fantasy, written for him in 1986. That sounded stunning too. During the interval, Mr Lloyd Webber signed CDs and photos in the foyer, just like he did last year. He is clearly the Tom Conti of the classical music world.

The second half was due to start with another Arnold piece, his Sweeney Todd Op.68, but Mr Gibbons announced, in the style of London Midland (his description), that owing to earlier delays the Sweeney Todd departure had been cancelled. It’s true, if they had played it as scheduled, the concert would have gone on long past 10.00. However, the sigh of disappointment from the audience was tangible. I’m not sure if I’ve ever seen an item removed from a running order simply because of earlier delays.

Instead we moved straight on to Tchaikovsky’s Nutcracker suite and then Ponchielli’s Dance of the Hours. The Nutcracker is always such a crowd-pleaser. But for me I felt there was just something held back from the orchestra; I couldn’t put my finger on it, it just sounded a little safe, a little reserved somehow. One forgets how delightful the Dance of the Hours is, and that was another beautiful performance; and I promise that I did not sing to myself either “Everyone’s a fruit and nut case” or “Hello Muddah, Hello Fadduh” to either of these fine classical oeuvres.

We were promised some fireworks with Malcolm Arnold’s Electra, and we certainly got them. An extraordinary piece, wild and fiery, full of clashes and attack, making the orchestra work hard to do justice to Arnold’s demanding score. Short – stunning – breathtaking. Then to round the evening off in a more genteel way, we had Tchaikovsky’s Sleeping Beauty suite; utterly charming, totally elegant, returning us to serenity for the journey home. Fantastic work by Julia Thornton on the harp, by the way.

Mrs C felt the programme was like a dream version of Hooked on Classics, which I’m pretty sure she meant as a sign of appreciation. It was indeed a very enjoyable evening and the orchestra gave us a great performance. For those who didn’t come, in future get those bums on those seats – you missed a treat!

Review – Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, Jack Liebeck Plays Sibelius, Derngate, Northampton, 23rd September 2012

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Autumn brings the start of this year’s subscription season of concerts at the Derngate in Northampton, and I’m delighted to say that Mrs Chrisparkle and I have tickets to all but one of them. So it’s the welcome return of the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra with a glorious threesome of Wagner, Sibelius and Tchaikovsky, a super balanced programme designed to warm us up, show off a fine soloist, and end with the full orchestra at its best.

Our conductor was Enrique Bátiz, a splendidly formal gentleman of 70 experienced years, who takes his time to get to the podium, sombrely accepts the audience’s applause by resting his hand across his chest, never comes close to a smile, but with the manner of a slightly infirm old headmaster gets an absolutely cracking performance from the orchestra. His discography comprises 145 recordings, so he’s clearly the Cliff Richard of Latin American classical music.

The first piece was Wagner’s Flying Dutchman Overture, a stately and grand performance interspersed with some musical fireworks; a good opener that pleased the appreciative, if a bit small, Derngate audience. I thought the horns were particularly outstanding, but what do I know?

Sibelius’ Violin Concerto in D Minor was next, and we awaited the return of Snr Bátiz with Jack Liebeck, winner of the 2010 Classical Brit award for Young British Performer of the Year. We’d seen him a couple of years ago on this same stage with this same orchestra performing Mendelssohn’s Violin Concerto. On that occasion I was very impressed with the sound that he made from his playing but felt he was a bit clinical and cold when it came to the emotion of the thing.

Well that’s all changed now. Mr Liebeck’s whole attitude seems much more enthusiastic. You can see it in his body language – lurching back and forth as though on a choppy sea, reaching on tiptoes to get the high notes, and really embracing the passion of the Sibelius with his every facial gesture. And of course his technical prowess is magnificent – those challenging cadenzas in particular were completely gripping and he never sacrifices the purity of the note for the bravura of the performance. I’d not heard this concerto before but I loved it and a CD of it is on its way to me from those nice people at Amazon. The orchestra put in a great performance too, including an intriguingly rasping playing of the horns, which Mrs C at first thought was a lone kazoo in the percussion. Sustained applause at the end of the concerto brought Mr Liebeck back for an encore. I didn’t recognise the piece but I know it was Bach because just before he played it, he exclaimed “Bach!” So there was no doubt.

After the interval, where Mrs C and I met a nice old lady who came into town by herself to see the RPO concerts while her old husband seemed to prefer staying in and watching X-Factor, we returned for Tchaikovsky’s Fourth Symphony. Again this was a new piece to me, and again I absolutely adored it, especially its second, third and fourth movements. The second movement centres on a very plaintive, moving theme which I thought the orchestra played beautifully. I can’t think how come I’ve not heard it before. The third movement consists of Tchaikovsky getting plucked, which is an overwhelming sensation when the entire string section is on the pizzicato. The final section is such a whirlwind of flourishes and excitement that it quite takes your breath away. You know that package from Amazon? A recording of this symphony is in there as well. The final applause was one of those occasions where it gradually gets warmer and warmer as the audience reflects on just how good all the elements of the evening have been. We were getting poor old Señor Bátiz to walk on and off the podium countless times to take the applause. Each time, it was still with his sincere but solemn expression, the heartfelt hand on the chest; until the last time, when he simply did that sharp cross-hands gesture which clearly is Mexican for “enough already”. He’s got a train to catch, thought Mrs C.

Many’s the time we’ve been to see these RPO concerts and inevitably we walk home exhilarated afterwards, talking of being lucky and privileged to enjoy them so close to home. This was no exception. Here’s to the next one.

Review – Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, Last Night of the Derngate Proms, Royal and Derngate, Northampton, 15th July 2012

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Whilst the Royal Albert Hall is enjoying the opening week of its Proms season, here in Northampton we’re ahead of the game, with Sunday’s Last Night of the Proms concert marking the end of the 2011-2012 Subscription Season. The Derngate was packed. Whilst I was ordering the drinkies, Mrs Chrisparkle had to text me from the far side of the foyer where she was attempting to purchase a programme to say it was so busy it would be some time before we would be reunited. When the theatre is this packed it’s good news for everyone!

The avuncular Owain Arwel Hughes was in command of a feisty Royal Philharmonic, and it was to be an evening of bite sized chunks of classical fireworks. We started off with O Fortuna from Carmina Burana – always a great wake-up call. The orchestra were clearly in fine form, and the Northampton Bach Choir gave it all they had. From our vantage point, Mrs Chrisparkle and I had an excellent clear view of the percussion section – on the far left side of the orchestra instead of their normal position at the back. It was fascinating to watch the skill and concentration required to manage the wide range of percussion instruments from the huge gong to the little triangle. It’s a full second between banging the gong and the rich sound emanating from it, something I certainly hadn’t realised before. Anyway O Fortuna was a cracking start, although inside I did feel a little sorry that they weren’t going to play the entire Carmina Burana. Maybe next season?

Next we had Va Pensiero from Verdi’s Nabucco, an opera, not a manufacturer of biscuits as I had once erroneously believed. Again a great rendition from the choir and a charming gentle contrast with the crisp oomph of the Orff. Tchaikovsky’s Polonaise from Eugene Onegin followed, a great tune and the RPO gave it full colour and dynamism – a really enjoyable performance. It was at this point that I started to watch the interaction between an older violinist in the front row and the young pretender sitting next to him. The younger man was very courteous in his dealings with the older – it was as though by sharing the same music stand he was gaining wisdom and experience from the older man. It was quite intriguing and I feel it helped both of their performances. It was just one of a number of interactions we observed within members of the orchestra that evening.

Then we had Fauré’s Cantique de Jean Racine, a new piece for me. I loved the beauty of the cello playing, delightfully highlighted by Suzy Willison-Kawalec on the harp. But I did think the choir was a bit off on this one. It all started to sound a bit muddy somehow. By the time we had moved on to Vaughan Williams’ O Clap Your Hands, another première to my eardrums, I felt the choir had got distinctly ragged. T sounds ricocheted all over the place and there were enough loose sibilants to suggest the Reptile House at Regent’s Park. Maybe they needed an interval break.

Before the interval though, came the definite highlight of the night – Viv McLean as the soloist for a performance of Gershwin’s Rhapsody in Blue. The orchestra gave a great rendition of the seedier sounds of Manhattan that the piece is meant to represent – the introduction, for example, sent tingles up my spine. I loved the percussion giving it the Cuba rhythms, and the brass sounded tough and industrial. But Viv McLean’s performance was just superb. He really expressed what Gershwin described as the “Metropolitan Madness” of the piece, and you could hear the sound of carriages over steely train tracks that were Gershwin’s inspiration. A great performance that sent us in for our interval Chenin Blanc on a happy high. I did however observe another rather odd interaction, this time between the two cellists at the front. One was rolling her eyes in a “forchrissake” sort of way, and the other one was trying not to laugh at her. Not sure what it was that warranted this slightly unprofessional behaviour but it didn’t look terribly respectful.

After the interval we were welcomed back with Rossini’s William Tell Overture and what was possibly the orchestra’s best performance of the night. The cellists were back on best behaviour and the sound they produced for the first part of the overture was pure and stunning. The whole orchestra brought out the tunefulness of the piece – particularly that first three quarters that you don’t always hear. And when it came to the famous Lone Ranger finale, they played with such gusto and verve that it was a sheer delight.

Next we had the third and last piece of music that was new to me, Mozart’s Ave Verum Corpus. It was quietly elegant and charming but made such a huge contrast to the Rossini that I barely noticed it before it was over. Moving on to Elgar’s Nimrod from the Enigma Variations; always a stirring theme and played beautifully. It’s just one of those pieces that you can never tire of hearing. Whilst I was beaming reflectively at the music, Mrs C had started to get irked by the apparent grumpiness of the lady violinist at the front. Mrs C had commented “Crack a smile, can’t you?” under her breath a couple of times when the orchestra members had stood to receive applause. After the Elgar, or maybe the Parry following it, this lady and the violinist next to her started having a very sulky looking chat about something that was obviously disturbing them both. “Why do they do it when it looks so awful?” asked Mrs C. Why indeed?

Anyway, the Parry; “I was Glad” was the piece, and it’s one I can never remember until I hear it and then I remember how much I like it. A complex work and the choir gave it a brave stab – and it did come over as a very joyous experience, so job done. More Elgar, with Pomp and Circumstance March No 4; very smartly done, and definitely getting the increasingly jingoistic Northampton audience to prepare for some interaction. Large flags were beginning to get unfurled over boxes. The rustle of mini flags being waved in time with the music was starting to get louder. Sir Henry Wood’s Fantasia on British Sea Songs kicked in with a beautiful and emotional Tom Bowling, followed by the Hornpipe, which Mr Hughes encouraged us to clap along with – softly at first, then going the Full Monty. Rule Britannia had us all in patriotic voice, especially the second time when, again at Mr Hughes’ behest, we all stood up to let rip. Finally came Jerusalem, one of my favourite pieces of music of all time, and you will be pleased to know that, without needing to refer to the words, I gave a splendid performance. For an encore they performed the racy Can-Can from Offenbach’s Orpheus in the Underworld, adding a French and German touch to our otherwise very British finale.

So thanks to the RPO for another year’s superb concerts which we have really enjoyed – and it’s full steam ahead for some very juicy classical prospects in next year’s season, which will be starting in September with inter alia Jack Liebeck as soloist in Sibelius’ Violin Concerto. Can’t wait!

Review – Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, Nigel Kennedy plays Brahms, Derngate, Northampton, 2nd June 2012

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It was a perfect start to the Queen’s Diamond Jubilee weekend with a long-awaited concert by the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra with guest soloist Nigel Kennedy. I remember back in the late 1980s being absolutely knocked out by his crisp and sparky Vivaldi Four Seasons CD which had so much more attack and personality than any other recording of the Four Seasons I have heard before or since. So it was a no-brainer that we would book for this concert, and we’d been looking forward to it for over a year.

The Royal Philharmonic were conducted by Andrew Litton, whose performances we have appreciated in the past and who was at the Julliard School with Nigel Kennedy. Once again Mr Litton beamed his perky happiness throughout the evening, taking charge of the orchestra in a seemingly effortless way.

We started off with Brahms’ Academic Festival Overture, which was a new one on Mrs Chrisparkle and me. It’s a bright and charming piece and a great way to open a concert. The orchestra were clearly on good form and I particularly enjoyed the punchy drums and percussion.

Next up was what would be the highlight in any other concert in which it featured – Elgar’s Enigma Variations. This really is a personal favourite of mine. It only took the first few seconds of its starting and my eyes instantly welled up with the atmosphere and emotion. It was a beautifully paced and balanced performance, including a really snappy Troyte variation and a delicately laid back R.P.A. Whenever I hear Nimrod, I always feel it’s possibly the most beautiful piece ever written – and then I hear the final variation, E.D.U., and for me it always trumps Nimrod’s ace. Another super performance, and quite rightly Andrew Litton invited virtually everyone in the orchestra to take their own individual bow. In a sense it was odd to play Enigma before the interval, rather than leaving it to the end, but with Mr Kennedy waiting in the wings I could see there was no alternative. We certainly left for our interval Sauvignon Blanc on a high.

On our return, the male members of the orchestra (Andrew Litton apart) had reappeared in shirtsleeve order. I wasn’t sure if that was because they were universally hot, or whether it was to go along with Nigel Kennedy’s own informal style. If it was the latter, it’s slightly bizarre to have everyone conform to the nonconformist – but no matter. For vivacious style and content, this couldn’t be beaten. Mr Kennedy saunters up to the podium exchanging bon mots and giggles with half the orchestra before spending the first thirty seconds enjoying and praising the beauty of First Violinist Clio Gould, lamenting the fact that she’s “taken”. He trades a bit of laddish banter with “Andy” Litton – clearly an old friendship that works a treat here – and with “Dave” Cohen, first Cello, of whom he’s also obviously fond. He gives them all, and some members of the audience, a fist bump. Then he picks up his 1732 Carlo Bergonzi violin, turns his back to the audience, and Brahms’ Violin Concerto begins.

At first, his turning his back seems slightly rude; but as the piece progresses you realise it’s actually an act of great humility. It’s a good few minutes before the violin shows up in the first movement, and it’s a time for the orchestra to show off its prowess, so Mr Kennedy makes himself invisible for this time. When it’s his turn, he shifts about 135 degrees round so that he’s still on quite an odd angle to the audience, and starts to make the most brilliant music. His style is still that of the bold, boisterous Kennedy of the Four Seasons. When it came to the first movement cadenza, he played – according to the programme notes – the Fritz Kreisler version and it was stunning. You could have powered the entire lighting rig from his energy.

The whole performance was fantastic. For me, Nigel Kennedy elevated the art of being a soloist a hundredfold. He dazzled, yet remained an intrinsic part of the orchestra, never missing an opportunity by word or gesture to allow his colleagues to shine too. The partnership with Andrew Litton worked perfectly; they clearly have an understanding and appreciation of precisely how the other operates, and it becomes a joint venture of mutual respect and admiration. Each enables the other to soar.

When the concerto was over, we got the usual rounds of extremely well deserved applause and bows; and just when you thought Andrew Litton would come back for one more call, he stays away and leaves Nigel Kennedy centre stage with the orchestra for a full half hour’s worth of additional encores and banter. He thanks us for supporting live music – no worries, Nigel, the pleasure was ours; he continues to “big up” individual members of the orchestra, and why not; he generates another sequence of fist bumps; he starts to play a little tune on his “fiddle”, gets it slightly wrong and says a playful “oh sh*t”; then finally gives us some exuberant Brahms Hungarian Dances, with David Cohen’s First Cello acting as cimbalom – which works really well. He works some cunning and amusing variations in there too, which included, inter alia, the theme to Bonanza.

After all the rapturous reception was finished, the orchestra had dispersed and the audience was making their way to the exits, it was rather humbling to see Andrew Litton, now dressed in jumper and jeans, nip back on stage to collect his paperwork, a visual underlining of the fact he had earlier handed over the ultimate glories of the night to Nigel Kennedy. A superb concert, a privilege to see a soloist so in command of his instrument, and an orchestra worth going a long way to catch.

Review – Tchaikovsky’s Eugene Onegin, Slovak National Theatre, Bratislava, 25th February 2012

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Mrs Chrisparkle and I have actually seen very few operas over the years, and our most recent experiences have been in eastern European cities – Carmen in Leipzig; Nabucco in Riga and now Eugene Onegin in Bratislava. I find I get an additional thrill about seeing an opera production somewhere that used to be behind “the Iron Curtain”. I always think that thirty years ago or so it would have been where the people who had aggrandised themselves to Positions Of Importance by treading on the aspirations of ordinary members of society went to See And Be Seen. It’s basically a sense of being privileged. But nowadays it’s a more acceptable and less oppressive form of privilege – at least I hope.

From the outside the theatre is elegant, smart and beautifully lit at night. Ascend a few steps and you enter a wide and simply tastefully decorated foyer, all creams and golds. A gentleman sells programmes – 1,90 euros for a slim booklet in Slovak; 3,50 euros for a slightly fatter more detailed book translated into English and German. It is virtually compulsory to use the cloakroom, so you go down some staircases to another wide foyer, at one end of which about seven attendants await your coats and scarves; at the other end of which is the bar.

As people remove their coats you get to see how well dressed they really are. In the UK we don’t tend to dress up for the theatre anymore. Not so in Bratislava. Evening dresses, dinner jackets and bowties were in high evidence; the less formal men were wearing lounge suits and ties and their ladies in attractive dresses and outfits. Mrs C, of course, looked stunning in her jacket and smart trousers – but I was just “Man from Levi’s” and felt a little over-denimmed. Surprisingly though the staff behind the bar were rather scruffy. We had a glass of the Hubert Brut each – yes they actually had some – and it’s a perfect way to add to the sense of occasion.

Inside the auditorium the balconies and boxes are extremely ornate in their baroquish gold swirls and elegant balustrades. But what surprises you is that although the stage itself is very wide and you can get a lot on there, the stalls themselves don’t go back very far at all. It’s like you’ve arrived at a sawn-off London Palladium. They also sport the most uncomfortable seats you could imagine. Normally when you fold a theatre seat down, the base of the back rests a little bit above the seat pad. In this theatre there’s about a six inch gap between the base of the back and the seat, plus the seat pad is pushed forward a good few inches too. The only way I could find to sit in the seats with any degree of comfort was basically to hunch down and sprawl widely which I’m not sure was appreciated by the lady to my left. I think the seats must have been designed by the Sales and Marketing Department of Bratislava Chiropractors, Inc.

But what of the performance itself? Well, to my inexpert opera-going eyes, I thought it was excellent. It’s a modern staging, full of downbeat looking peasants, and men slouching over empty bottles of vodka, making a vivid contrast with the bookish decency of Tatyana and the exuberant naïveté of Olga, as well as the stolid goodness of Lensky and the devilish sophistication of Onegin. Tatyana was sung by Adriana Kohútková and she was brilliant. In the early parts of the opera the plot focuses heavily on Tatyana and she delivered a really powerful performance. I enjoyed the way they had stacked her books slightly proud of the main curtain so when she was clambering over them trying to find somewhere to sit and write her love letter she was more exposed; then on scene changes I liked how she would pull the curtain half across the stage, cowering in the protection it gave her, peeping round its edges scared of what she might see.

Surrounding the substantial orchestra pit is an apron that provides a complete circular walkway (well, square really) from one front corner of the stage, out past the orchestra, all along right in front of the first row, and back to the stage again. When the main characters came out and used this apron, you really felt as though you were in the thick of the action. Miss Kohútková was stunning when she was out on the apron. You couldn’t take your eyes (or ears) off her.

Pavol Remenár’s Eugene Onegin also made excellent use of the front apron, mainly in the penultimate scene where he confronts Tatyana and her new husband Gremin (the crowd-pleasing deep bass of Gustáv Beláček, who was fantastic) tearing his hair in anguish and singing for all he was worth. In the earlier scenes he was excellent as the slightly foppish chancer who flirts with much of the chorus and breaks the heart of Tatyana. Funny to think that Pavol Remenár attempted to represent Slovakia at the 2010 Eurovision Song Contest – it’s great when two worlds collide! Tatyana and Gremin spent the ballroom scene actually in a box watching the stage like everyone else, and sang their roles from that spot, so that the people sitting in the box one level above them were visibly perplexed as they knew something was going on underneath but couldn’t quite fathom out what.

Some other very nicely done moments included the kindly but humorous performance of Jitka Sapara-Fischerová as Filipievna the nurse, the over-the-top French song of M. Triquet sung amusingly by Ivan Ožvát, and the staging of the duel between Onegin and Aleš Briscein’s Lensky,where both characters were surrounded by their seconds and other onlookers, gradually closing in on the pair of them till you heard a shot, and Lensky’s body just slowly fell out of the crowd onto the stage in front. I really loved Lensky’s aria that he sings just before the duel – even though I didn’t understand a word of the RussianI found it very moving and superbly performed. After Lensky’s death the music becomes very vital and exciting – a fantastic tune and its juxtaposition with Onegin’s static soul-searching regret for what he has done made for a surprisingly effective moment.

The opera ends with Tatyana’s and Onegin’s finale scene where the lives are visibly ruined and nobody wins – except the audience who were witness to a fine performance. The orchestra conducted by Jaroslav Kyzlink sounded fine to me and all in all it was a wonderful evening. It certainly gave us a taste to widen our knowledge of opera and if you’re up for a bit of culture in Bratislava I would definitely recommend a performance at the National Theatre.

Review – Spanish Fiesta, Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, Derngate, Northampton, 5th February 2012

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First visit by the RPO to the Derngate in 2012 for the much awaited Spanish Fiesta, which includes four crowd-pleasing familiar pieces and a first performance. So it was with great anticipation that we took our seats.

The conductor this time was Simon Wright, a relaxed, avuncular looking man, who looks as though he enjoys the après-concert to the full. I felt that the first piece, Bizet’s Carmen Suite No 1, could have done with just a tad more attack. Rather reflecting the conductor’s appearance, it luxuriated in the soft and the stately elements of the music, bringing out its tunefulness very well – the Carmen suite is basically a medley of songs from the world’s best musical after all – but I didn’t get the spine shiver I would normally like from Les dragons d’alcala entr’acte music, and perhaps the Séguidille lacked some emotion. All was put right though for the Toreadors tune, which went like the clappers and never fails to bring a smile to the face and an air-baton to the hand.

Then we had Fauré’s Pavane. This beautiful piece was perfectly played and was as comforting as nestling in a high tog duvet with a bowl of whipped cream. It clearly suited Simon Wright’s laid back style. Measured and resonant; simply gorgeous.

Then we came to our première. Stephen Goss’ Guitar Concerto was commissioned by the soloist Graham Roberts. Messrs Goss and Roberts go back a long way and have played together in the Tetra Guitar Quartet for over twenty years, so they should have a pretty good understanding of how to get the best out of each other. The first movement is described as “bold and bright”; let’s take that first. It starts stunningly; and there’s no doubting Mr Roberts’ mastery of the guitar – although I was expecting an acoustic Spanish guitar rather than the mellow electronic guitar sound we got. It’s also a fantastic piece for the percussion who gave it plenty of welly. As the first movement progresses it loses some of that electronic flamenco feel and becomes more lyrical, but possibly not to its advantage. Mrs Chrisparkle thought – perhaps a little unkindly – that there was an element of lift music about it. I must say it put me in mind of a film score; but I guess the point is we both felt it was rather “background” music rather than something that commanded one’s attention.

The second movement is Adagio sostenuto, an homage to Elgar. The programme notes explain that Graham Roberts asked Stephen Goss to come up with a British alternative to the slow movement to Rodrigo’s Guitar Concerto de Aranjuez, and that the result is something very Elgarian in mood. He’s not kidding. As you get into that second movement it screams Nimrod at you. Possibly a little too much for me, as I felt it stopped being an homage and became more like a derivative influence. The kind part of me tells you it was splendidly played and a clever, tuneful doff of the cap to Elgar; and the unkind part of me tells you I would have preferred to have stayed at home with my CD of the Enigma Variations. The truth is somewhere between the two.

The finale, allegro molto, was, we both agreed, the most rewarding of the three movements, with fantastic Cuban rhythms and more wonderful contributions from the percussion. It was full of attack and very tuneful. However, during the interval both Mrs C and I agreed that – just maybe – the concerto would have worked slightly better as a purely symphonic piece. But then, what do we know?

After the interval, Graham Roberts was back to give us his Rodrigo’s Guitar Concerto. Acoustic Spanish guitar this time, perhaps? No, it was a distinctly plugged version. In both his performances Mr Roberts had struggled a bit with the tuning – he actually told us that the dressing room was too cold for the strings to warm up – and whereas I didn’t think that affected his playing of the Goss, I did feel there was some detriment to the Rodrigo, particularly in the third movement where I thought he was distinctly off a couple of times. Additionally, I also felt in the first movement, the orchestra was a little loud for the guitar – or the guitar was too soft for the orchestra. Just a couple of times you couldn’t quite hear where Rodrigo was going with it. But no real worries; it is of course a mellifluously lovely piece of music and it’s really delightful to let it waft over you, transporting you to your own private Spanish heaven; and in that super second movement, Graham Roberts teased some extraordinary delicacies out of those strings.

Top of the bill, so to speak, and because you really can’t play anything after it, we were treated to a performance of Ravel’s Bolero. We saw the RPO perform this here two years ago and it was stunning. Again, it was a superb performance, and particular commendations have to go to the man on the snare drum. He starts the whole thing off and has to keep going right to the bitter end – an extraordinary feat I think. He was great. All the woodwind too, especially the flute and clarinet, were particularly splendid in that performance and made those early moments of the piece really sweet and exotic. When the strings kicked in they were majestic too. It seems a shame to mention the celeste, but unfortunately it squeaked a little painfully alongside the piccolos; not quite sure what went wrong there. But the whole thing built to a magnificent climax and ended as dramatically as you could imagine.

Great to see a really packed house enjoy such an enjoyable programme of music, especially the combination of the familiar with the new. It wasn’t perfect, but it was played by humans, and humans aren’t perfect. Moreover, it was played with huge skill and commitment, and, as ever, we walked home grateful for the privilege of having a theatre like the Derngate with an orchestra like the RPO on our doorstep.

Review of the Year 2011 – The Second Annual Chrisparkle Awards

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Welcome to the Second Annual Chrisparkle Awards, celebrating the best in entertainment in Northampton and beyond! Every show that I saw in 2011 and that I blogged (actually only one show didn’t get blogged, more of which later) is eligible for one of these delightful – and virtual – awards.

So let’s get on with it, and start off with Best Dance Production.

As last year, I actually only saw three dance productions all year and they were all excellent. But the winner has to be one of our regular favourites, Les Ballets Trockadero de Monte Carlo (aka the Trocks) for their show at the Milton Keynes Theatre in March 2011. I’m awarding joint 2nd place to the other two productions, Rambert’s Awakening tour at the Derngate, Northampton in March and Richard Alston’s current tour at the Derngate in October.

Classical Music Concert of the Year.

We saw five concerts and they were all very enjoyable.
In 3rd place, it’s the BBC Prom we saw in July featuring the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra and Chorus playing Prokofiev’s Alexander Nevsky and with soloist Midori doing the Walton Violin Concerto;
In 2nd place it’s the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra at the Derngate with their programme of English Classics and soloist Julian Lloyd Webber in November; but just pipping it
In 1st place it’s the RPO again at the Derngate in May with their Grand Tchaikovsky Gala, and the spectacular solo by Alessandro Taverna of Tchaikovsky’s first piano concerto.

Best Entertainment Show of the Year.

An odd category this; it includes all the non-categorisable productions one sees over the year, including pantos, revues, circuses and so on. And it proved tricky to make a decision, but a decision has been made nonetheless.
In 3rd place, the adult-only Flathampton night at the Derngate in July;
In 2nd place, Theatre MAD’s late night charity show West End Eurovision at London’s Piccadilly Theatre in April; and
In 1st place, the wonderfully varied and superb Burlesque Show at the Royal, Northampton in July.

Regrettably, here comes the first turkey of the year – I am compelled to award a Worst Entertainment Show of the Year; which sadly has to go to the Chinese State Circus show at the Derngate last January, which was so boring and basically pathetic that I couldn’t be motivated to write about it.

Best Star Standup.

A new category for this year. This is to consider the best stand-up comic on a big stage, not the comics who have appeared at the Screaming Blue Murder club (see below). All four of the star comics we saw this year were new to us as live performers, so we saw them with no previous baggage. We thought one of them was a bit disappointing, but the rest were all excellent in their own way. So the top three is:

In 3rd place, Reginald D Hunter, Sometimes Even the Devil Tells the Truth, at the Derngate in November;
In 2nd place, Al Murray’s Barrel of Fun at the Derngate in October; and
In 1st place, Jason Byrne’s Cirque du Byrne at the Derngate in September.

Best Standup at the Screaming Blue Murder nights in Northampton.

I think we’ve seen over 40 comics this year at the Screaming Blue Murder shows. I’m not going to name and shame the few who were disappointing – they know who they are. This was very hard to whittle down to a top 5, and there are many terrific acts who are missing out on their Chrisparkle gong, but here goes:
In 5th place, the Raymond and Mr Timkins Revue (14th October);
In 4th place, Swindon’s own Tony Cowards (2nd September);
In 3rd place, Cornwall’s own Paul Kerensa (4th February);
In 2nd place, the superb comic creation Loretta Maine (13th May); and
In 1st place, the very hilarious Rob Heeney (1st April).

Best New Musical.

Last year we just had a best musical but this year it has been split into Best New Musical and Best Revival Musical. Only three contenders for each award, so here goes:
In 2nd place, Stephen Sondheim’s Roadshow at the Menier Chocolate Factory in August; and
In 1st place, Hamlet the Musical at the Royal in May. Hamlet won the award on the strength that by the interval I knew I just had to have the CD.

Best Revival Musical.

In 2nd place, and fully deserving of great congratulation, was the excellent revival of Avenue Q touring at the Derngate in July.
In 1st place, and fully deserving of even more congratulation, is Stephen Sondheim’s Company at the Sheffield Crucible in December.

No need for a worst musical nomination.

Best New Play/Comedy of the Year.

Again this has been split into new play and revival categories. We saw six “new” plays this year and they were all very rewarding in their own ways, but the top three is fairly easy to agree on.
In 3rd place, Clybourne Park at Wyndham’s Theatre in London in April;
In 2nd place, Diary of a Nobody at the Royal, Northampton, in March; and
In 1st place, One Man Two Guvnors on tour at the New Alexandra Theatre in Birmingham in October.
I also want to give a mention to the excellent Terrible Advice at the Menier which only just failed to get in the top three.

Best Revival of a Play or Comedy of the Year.

Eleven contenders on the shortlist for this award, so there are some great productions who have missed out on a mention.
In 3rd place, The Years Between at the Royal, Northampton in February;
In 2nd place, Hobson’s Choice at the Sheffield Crucible in June; and
In 1st place, Racing Demon at the Sheffield Crucible in February.

Turkey time: Worst play of the year.

Four plays really didn’t come up to scratch in my book: Oxford Playhouse’s Lady in the Van was generally tedious; Warwick Arts Centre’s Government Inspector generally irritating; the Derngate’s Yes Prime Minister generally offensive; but worst of all was Smash at the Menier. How I hated that play.

Best performance by an Actress in a Musical.

For a long time through the year there was only one real contender for this award, but then along came another production and pipped her to the post!
In 3rd place, Samantha Spiro for Company at the Sheffield Crucible;
In 2nd place, Jess Robinson for Hamlet the Musical at the Royal, Northampton; and
In 1st place, Francesca Annis for Company at the Sheffield Crucible.

Best performance by an Actor in a Musical.

The same applies; two excellent performances earlier in the year trounced at Christmas!
In 3rd place, Jack Shalloo for Hamlet the Musical at the Royal, Northampton;
In 2nd place, James Fox for Chess at the Milton Keynes Theatre in January; and
In 1st place, Daniel Evans for Company at the Sheffield Crucible.

Best performance by an Actress in a Play.

Lots of fantastic performances this year but these are the lucky three:
In 3rd place, Marianne Oldham for The Years Between at the Royal, Northampton;
In 2nd place, Zoe Waites for Hobson’s Choice at the Sheffield Crucible; and
In 1st place, Gina McKee for the Donmar’s King Lear at the Milton Keynes Theatre in January.

Best performance by an Actor in a Play.

Again many great performances pass without a mention, but the top three are:
In 3rd place Malcolm Sinclair for Racing Demon at the Sheffield Crucible (and also Rattigan’s Nijinsky at Chichester in August);
In 2nd place, James Corden for One Man Two Guvnors at the New Alexandra in Birmingham; and
In 1st place, Derek Jacobi for King Lear at the Milton Keynes Theatre. Daft really – how can you compare James Corden and Derek Jacobi? I’ve gone with Mr Jacobi’s fresh and insightful reading as opposed to Mr Corden’s onstage fireworks. I also want to give a mention to the excellent Jamie Parker for Racing Demon too.

Best Ensemble Performance by the Company.

This is for where a company works seamlessly together, something I always really admire in a performance!
In 3rd place, Diary of a Nobody at the Royal, Northampton;
In 2nd place, Propeller’s Henry V on tour at the Milton Keynes Theatre in December; and
In 1st place, Hamlet the Musical at the Royal, Northampton.

Favourite theatre of the year.

Very torn. Last year I had no question about awarding the Chrisparkle to the Royal, Northampton. But this year I feel it should go to the Sheffield Crucible for consistency of excellence.

It’s been a great year of theatregoing, thank you for your interest in my reviews and I hope 2012 will be a bumper year of theatre glory!

Review – Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, Derngate, Northampton, English Classics with Julian Lloyd Webber, November 27th 2011

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A welcome return to the Derngate for the RPO with what was for us our inaugural concert of the season (as we missed the first concert in September), a programme of English Classics. Our conductor was Barry Wordsworth, looking most amiable in his trendy black shirt. I like the way he brings the best out of the musicians in a calm and considered manner, rather than leaping about like a maniacal March Hare. He’s much more dignified.

The first piece on offer was Delius’ Walk to the Paradise Garden, which was new to me and was full of lush strings and cosy chords – a musical version of comfort eating. It felt warm and summery, unashamedly self-indulgent, and was a very enjoyable introduction to the evening.

Next was Elgar’s Cello Concerto, with the soloist Julian Lloyd Webber. When I originally heard that he was to be performing in this concert, I was extremely excited at the prospect. He is, after all, a Big Name. Would he live up to his reputation?

He has a great physical presence when fronting the orchestra; very tall, with the wildest of hair that’s surely never seen the inside of a Toni and Guy, nevertheless sporting a discreet headband to keep it out of his eyes during the more passionate cadenzas. He wore a Bohemian blue shirt that would not have looked out of place on an 18th century shepherd. And it’s a slightly bizarre sight to see him walk on and off the stage, going sideways up and down the steps one at a time, carefully and gingerly, so that he doesn’t accidentally trip and smash his “Barjansky” Stradivarius cello from c.1690 (which would be an awful shame).

His playing is, as you would expect, a complete delight. It’s soft and warm, mature and emotional. If his cello were a fine cognac, his music would be the deepest, finest, most delicate tasting that you’ve ever enjoyed; no cheap Metaxa here, this is your yummiest Camus at the very least. I particularly enjoyed the way he interacted with the lead violinist. Some soloists can appear rather aloof and retreat into themselves; Mr Lloyd Webber, however, seemed to act simply as another member of the orchestra, constantly eyeing the lead violin and the conductor for mutual reassurance that they were happy everything was going ok. He seems to me to be a great team player. I admired that.

After the interval we had Vaughan Williams’ Fifth Symphony, which was also new to me. I really enjoyed it. Would it be banal of me to say that was because it was full of lovely tunes? That’s how it came across. I particularly loved the Cor Anglais in the third movement, beautifully played by Leila Ward; and also the combined sound of the strings just seemed to swell out to fill all the available musical bandwidth the Derngate can offer. The RPO doing their version of Phil Spector’s Wall of Sound, maybe?

A wonderful evening, perhaps more relaxing than stimulating, not that there’s anything wrong with that. Here’s to the next one!

Review – Sixth Annual Malcolm Arnold Festival, Gala Concert, Derngate, Northampton, 23rd October 2011

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This was the first of our annual subscription classical concerts at the Derngate for this season – we had to miss the opening Beethoven concert as we were in South America. Usually it’s the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra performing here, but as this concert was the culmination of the Sixth Annual Malcolm Arnold Festival that had taken place over the entire weekend, this time we were treated to the joys of the Malcolm Arnold Festival Orchestra. Or to give them their real name, the Worthing Symphony Orchestra.

If you like your Malcolm Arnold, the whole weekend must be a rare treat. All nine symphonies were performed, as well as some other wonderful classical nuggets. Looking at this from a Eurovision fan perspective, you could call it an Arnoldbash. Don’t worry if you don’t understand that reference.

In a quirkily effective piece of structuring, the programme started with a big symphony and ended with an overture. So first up was Arnold’s 9th Symphony, to which the conductor, John Gibbons, told us to listen with fresh ears – if we were familiar with it – and if it was new to us, just to relax in its delicious musical lines. The only Arnold I know is the Cornish Dances and the St Trinian’s theme, so I was prepared to let it wallow over me.

And it is indeed a beautiful symphony, discordantly tuneful in its opening movements, and slowly majestic at its conclusion. I particularly loved the use of the brass section, with mellifluous horns and a soothing tuba, if that isn’t a contradiction in terms. It’s also notable for the way the harp is used to pluck highlight chords that accompany other instruments – it’s a very impressive orchestration. Much is made of the positive use of the final D major chord, which certainly does make for an optimistic ending.

After the interval, it was Brahms’ Concerto for Violin and Cello in A Minor (Op 102). Again this was a piece with which I was unfamiliar, but it’s packed to the rafters with attack and attitude. All this was second nature to the superb soloists. Nicola Benedetti, stunning in a long green figure-hugging dress,played the Earl Spencer Stradivarius (c 1712) with serious drive and flair. Leonard Elschenbroich, on the wayward side of bohemian, attacked his 1693 Goffriller cello to vivid effect, pom-pom-pomming along to the orchestra as he went, loving every minute of it. They dovetailed perfectly, and it was a really exhilarating performance.

Ending up with an overture was not as bizarre as it sounds, as Tchaikovsky’s Fantasy Overture from Romeo and Juliet contains a famously lush romantic tune and a satisfyingly thumping climax to send you off at the end of the evening on a Russian high. Considering it was the concert I was least looking forward to in the season, I found it a very entertaining night, and the Worthing Symphony Orchestra proved themselves to be top quality. There are some tantalising concerts coming up between now and next summer – it’s going to be great!

Review – BBC Proms, Royal Albert Hall, Prom 21, City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra and Chorus, R. Strauss Don Juan and Dance of the Seven Veils, Walton Violin Concerto, Prokofiev Alexander Nevsky Cantata, July 30th 2011

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Every year Mrs Chrisparkle and I take a trip down to London to see a Prom. The choice of which Prom is often the source of lengthy debate and the weighing of pros and cons, until finally a compromise is made – music we think we’ll enjoy on a date that is convenient and with no work the next day.Getting to and from the Royal Albert Hall from Northampton is no mean feat. Anyway, this year it was an easy choice – Alexander Nevsky on a Saturday!

We always make an occasion of it and treat ourselves to a slap up meal in one of the RAH’s restaurants. A couple of years ago we upgraded to the Coda Restaurant, a real destination eatery. This year, for some reason I can’t quite remember, I booked for the Elgar Room. This will be the subject of a future blog post, quite possibly tomorrow. Suffice it to say at this stage, I probably shan’t make the same decision next year.

Moving on. It’s all about the Hall and the concert, after all. Our conductor was Andris Nelsons, and from our vantage point he seemed to be enjoying himself thoroughly. We started off with Richard Strauss’ Don Juan, one of three pieces of music in the programme that was completely new to me. In an action packed seventeen minutes it seemed to have everything you could possibly want from a piece of classical music. Sparks, crashes, searing notes, quiet bits, lively bits, all coming together to form a satisfying whole. Don’t ask me to be more erudite about the performance, that’s all I can offer you on the subject.

A palpable sense of expectation for the next item – Walton’s Violin Concerto, with Midori as soloist. When not moonlighting as a melon-based liqueur, her day job is as a fantastic violin player. She has a commanding presence on the podium, and she got the most extraordinary sounds out of her instrument, made in 1734 according to the programme notes.When she feels the music vibe, she really feels it, contorting her neck and upper body into the most uncomfortable looking positions that allow her to express the real personality of the music. I have to be honest here – I didn’t really like the concerto per se. It didn’t really inspire me musically, and I know that’s my fault. To me it was almost too clever, too difficult, too unnatural for me to get a sense of anything that might approximate a tune. But this is nothing to do with the performance, which I could tell was sensational.

Whilst I was in an interval queue for the Gents, Mrs C observed Midori sweeping majestically out of the Hall, through one of the side vestibules, where a group of onlookers withdrew to the side to allow her to pass; at which point she graciously, and much to their surprise, shook hands with each and every one of them. Mrs C felt it was one of those unexpected moments of accidental theatricality, and I wish I’d seen it.

The second half of the concert started with my favourite, Prokofiev’s Alexander Nevsky cantata. The CBSO, augmented by their wonderful chorus, gave a lively, exciting performance. There are so many delightful passages in this music, and they shone as usual. If I’m honest, I thought the balance of sounds within the orchestra for the Battle on the Ice was a bit off. If, like me, you imagine one army represented by the jolly string tune, and the other army by the discordant brass section, the string army never got a look in, for the brass were on the ascendant from Round One. But the percussion was great; I particularly loved the xylophone playing and the magnificent huge drum is the stuff of childhood fantasy.The chorus were spot on, and it was all magnificently stirring. I should also give mention to the mezzo-soprano Nadezhda Serdiuk, who waited patiently on the podium for her four minutes of singing in the penultimate section, and it was well worth the wait, I thought her performance was very moving.

The final piece was Richard Strauss’s Dance of the Seven Veils from Salome. Again, full of vitality and exuberance, engaging and beautiful.For me, though, it was a let down after the high of the Prokofiev. I feel the programme would have been much more rounded if the Salome had started the second half rather than ended it.

Nevertheless an extremely enjoyable concert, and we all emerged triumphantly into Kensington Gore, on a wave of Bolshevik fervour.