Christopher’s Classics 2020 – 9 July 2020
NZ String Quartet
Reviewed by Tony Ryan
We’re back in a real concert hall at last thanks to Christopher’s Classics and the New Zealand String Quartet!
Although many of us have been exploring online concerts and enjoying some very imaginative virtual performances, there’s nothing like being together in an actual performance venue with the musicians playing just a few metres in front of us.
As the quartet’s cellist Rolf Gjelsten said before the group’s first piece, “We’re lucky to be in this country. Most of our colleagues in other parts of the world are still unable to rehearse or perform together” . . . and certainly not in the presence of a live audience.
Christopher’s Classics’ 2020 season started back in early March with the first of a planned series of Beethoven-themed concerts and, surprisingly, only one of these has been replaced (by tonight’s concert) and another postponed until later in the year.
And it’s still Beethoven year, so the New Zealand String Quartet’s programme featured three of his quartets; and we’re to get three more from them in another Christopher’s Classics concert scheduled for 20 August.
Tonight’s concert began with one of the early quartets: Op. 18, No. 2. Despite the ‘early’ designation, it’s already the work of a very experienced composer who, by the time of its composition in 1899, had many distinguished works to his credit, not the least of which are ten of the piano sonatas including the famous Pathétique.
This G Major Quartet still shows the influence of Haydn, but with many signs of the innovations and originality that would develop considerably in Beethoven’s later works. The NZSQ gave us a performance full of animation and poise, with a beautifully co-ordinated approach to phrasing, dynamics and articulation. But therein lies a problem – I never quite felt that the players conveyed a sense of spontaneity; everything emerged as carefully rehearsed and strictly controlled. Any sense of the-inspiration-of-the-moment seemed just out of reach. The three upper strings also restricted themselves to a very subtle degree of vibrato, which often limited the firmness and fullness of tone that I felt was needed. Considerable animation was visually present in faces and body language, but somehow failed to fully permeate into the actual sound.
The same problem characterised the following E-flat Major ‘Harp’ Quartet, where even the delightfully ebullient Presto movement seemed just a little too held-in-check. An occasional slight imperfection in intonation was perhaps also a symptom of so many weeks of being unable to work together in the way that such a group relies on in order to achieve its maximum unity of ensemble.
The E Minor ‘Rasumovsky’ Quartet contains a greater element of virtuosity and required the musicians to allow themselves more abandon and panache but, even here, they never permitted themselves to take any real risks, giving priority to unity of ensemble, balance and polish.
That unity, balance and polish was vividly effective in all three works and the clear sense of animated involvement of all three musicians was extremely impressive, but when I compare this to the best of the many chamber music performances that have emanated from this stage, I just wished for a degree more spontaneity and the excitement that can come from risks taken in the inspiration of the moment.
NZ String Quartet
Reviewed by Tony Ryan
We’re back in a real concert hall at last thanks to Christopher’s Classics and the New Zealand String Quartet!
Although many of us have been exploring online concerts and enjoying some very imaginative virtual performances, there’s nothing like being together in an actual performance venue with the musicians playing just a few metres in front of us.
As the quartet’s cellist Rolf Gjelsten said before the group’s first piece, “We’re lucky to be in this country. Most of our colleagues in other parts of the world are still unable to rehearse or perform together” . . . and certainly not in the presence of a live audience.
Christopher’s Classics’ 2020 season started back in early March with the first of a planned series of Beethoven-themed concerts and, surprisingly, only one of these has been replaced (by tonight’s concert) and another postponed until later in the year.
And it’s still Beethoven year, so the New Zealand String Quartet’s programme featured three of his quartets; and we’re to get three more from them in another Christopher’s Classics concert scheduled for 20 August.
Tonight’s concert began with one of the early quartets: Op. 18, No. 2. Despite the ‘early’ designation, it’s already the work of a very experienced composer who, by the time of its composition in 1899, had many distinguished works to his credit, not the least of which are ten of the piano sonatas including the famous Pathétique.
This G Major Quartet still shows the influence of Haydn, but with many signs of the innovations and originality that would develop considerably in Beethoven’s later works. The NZSQ gave us a performance full of animation and poise, with a beautifully co-ordinated approach to phrasing, dynamics and articulation. But therein lies a problem – I never quite felt that the players conveyed a sense of spontaneity; everything emerged as carefully rehearsed and strictly controlled. Any sense of the-inspiration-of-the-moment seemed just out of reach. The three upper strings also restricted themselves to a very subtle degree of vibrato, which often limited the firmness and fullness of tone that I felt was needed. Considerable animation was visually present in faces and body language, but somehow failed to fully permeate into the actual sound.
The same problem characterised the following E-flat Major ‘Harp’ Quartet, where even the delightfully ebullient Presto movement seemed just a little too held-in-check. An occasional slight imperfection in intonation was perhaps also a symptom of so many weeks of being unable to work together in the way that such a group relies on in order to achieve its maximum unity of ensemble.
The E Minor ‘Rasumovsky’ Quartet contains a greater element of virtuosity and required the musicians to allow themselves more abandon and panache but, even here, they never permitted themselves to take any real risks, giving priority to unity of ensemble, balance and polish.
That unity, balance and polish was vividly effective in all three works and the clear sense of animated involvement of all three musicians was extremely impressive, but when I compare this to the best of the many chamber music performances that have emanated from this stage, I just wished for a degree more spontaneity and the excitement that can come from risks taken in the inspiration of the moment.
Christopher’s Classics 2020 – 12 March 2020
Michael Endres – Piano
Reviewed by Tony Ryan
Beethoven year has begun! . . . and begun in the most spectacular and original way in this first concert of Christchurch’s 2020 Christopher’s Classics season.
As we enter the auditorium, The Piano’s splendid Steinway sits provocatively alone on the empty stage surrounded by newly and beautifully wood-panelled walls. Enter Michael Endres upstage right and, for the next ninety minutes that emptiness is filled with wonders.
Endres’ performance links all three works on the first part of the programme so that they continue from one to the next without a break: Haydn–Schoenberg–Beethoven. Haydn’s 1790 Six Easy Variations in C Major are full of whimsy and classical perfection, and the pianist makes the most of their improvisatory variety and boundless imagination with such poise and vitality that they make a delightful start to this recital. The pause between the final variation and the first of Schoenberg’s Six Little Piano Pieces of 1911 is no different from that between each of Haydn’s Variations. The first Schoenberg piece seems almost like the next variation until a few notes in, at which point Haydn’s tonal organisation is replaced by Schoenberg’s atonal “complete liberation from form, symbols, cohesion and logic”. Each of these miniatures averages less than a minute, and their contrast with one another is as comprehensive as each of Haydn’s Variations but with none of the classical composer’s motivic unity or tonal relationship.
Then, with a similarly pre-emptive pause, we’re suddenly in the throes of Beethoven’s great Sonata in F minor, Appassionata and somehow, from the outset, its revolutionary spirit seems even more defiant than Schoenberg’s. If Beethoven rebelled against the musical constrictions (as he saw them) of his teacher, Haydn, he did so with such inner conviction, truth and genuineness that Schoenberg’s atonal initiatives seem contrived by comparison, especially when we consider that he was writing his great Romantic manifesto, Gurrelieder, at exactly the same time.
Both Michael Endres’ programme and his method of presentation were clearly designed to emphasise the colossal genius of Beethoven and how, 250 years after his birth, he continues to tower over all those around him. Intriguing and engaging as both the other two works are, in this recital they merely served to highlight the mighty creative inspiration of a true masterwork. And Michael Endres gave us a performance full of power and conviction with technical risk-taking that rendered any slight inaccuracies irrelevant.
I sometimes feel that the impetus of this sonata’s first movement is lost if the Andante is taken too slowly; it can often seem disconnected and indulgent. But Michael Endres treated it more as a ‘con moto’ link between the two outer movements, giving the whole work a cohesive unity that made it all the more powerful. And the sense of passionate abandon as the final movement raced to its fervent conclusion had a spirit of inevitability that made this performance one which I’m sure those present will long remember.
And if all that wasn’t enough, the second part of the programme brought us a very rare treat. Franz Liszt wasn’t the first to arrange Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony for piano, but Liszt’s version is so convincing as an effective piano work that it leaves all others in its wake. Even more than in the Appassionata Sonata, Michael Endres brought the power and grandeur of the music fully to life. It’s no wonder that several audience members chose to move back a few rows before the onslaught of the symphony.
For me, the performance revived awareness of so many harmonic delights which I’d lost track of in my familiarity with the orchestral original. The end of the second movement in particular revealed Beethoven’s seemingly endless ability to find new expressive ideas in his thematic material; and the Finale came up like a restored painting as the notes and harmonies took precedence over texture and timbre. Both Liszt’s arrangement and Endres’ performance gave new life to a long familiar work and, consequently, my appreciation of one of Beethoven’s greatest creations has been enhanced enormously. Michael Endres wisely omitted the exposition repeats in both the first and last movements; even so, his reserves of stamina were easily as impressive as his musicianship – a truly stunning start to this Beethoven anniversary year. So much for “dead white guys”; this one’s music lives on with as much relevance and expressive power as the day it was written.
Michael Endres – Piano
Reviewed by Tony Ryan
Beethoven year has begun! . . . and begun in the most spectacular and original way in this first concert of Christchurch’s 2020 Christopher’s Classics season.
As we enter the auditorium, The Piano’s splendid Steinway sits provocatively alone on the empty stage surrounded by newly and beautifully wood-panelled walls. Enter Michael Endres upstage right and, for the next ninety minutes that emptiness is filled with wonders.
Endres’ performance links all three works on the first part of the programme so that they continue from one to the next without a break: Haydn–Schoenberg–Beethoven. Haydn’s 1790 Six Easy Variations in C Major are full of whimsy and classical perfection, and the pianist makes the most of their improvisatory variety and boundless imagination with such poise and vitality that they make a delightful start to this recital. The pause between the final variation and the first of Schoenberg’s Six Little Piano Pieces of 1911 is no different from that between each of Haydn’s Variations. The first Schoenberg piece seems almost like the next variation until a few notes in, at which point Haydn’s tonal organisation is replaced by Schoenberg’s atonal “complete liberation from form, symbols, cohesion and logic”. Each of these miniatures averages less than a minute, and their contrast with one another is as comprehensive as each of Haydn’s Variations but with none of the classical composer’s motivic unity or tonal relationship.
Then, with a similarly pre-emptive pause, we’re suddenly in the throes of Beethoven’s great Sonata in F minor, Appassionata and somehow, from the outset, its revolutionary spirit seems even more defiant than Schoenberg’s. If Beethoven rebelled against the musical constrictions (as he saw them) of his teacher, Haydn, he did so with such inner conviction, truth and genuineness that Schoenberg’s atonal initiatives seem contrived by comparison, especially when we consider that he was writing his great Romantic manifesto, Gurrelieder, at exactly the same time.
Both Michael Endres’ programme and his method of presentation were clearly designed to emphasise the colossal genius of Beethoven and how, 250 years after his birth, he continues to tower over all those around him. Intriguing and engaging as both the other two works are, in this recital they merely served to highlight the mighty creative inspiration of a true masterwork. And Michael Endres gave us a performance full of power and conviction with technical risk-taking that rendered any slight inaccuracies irrelevant.
I sometimes feel that the impetus of this sonata’s first movement is lost if the Andante is taken too slowly; it can often seem disconnected and indulgent. But Michael Endres treated it more as a ‘con moto’ link between the two outer movements, giving the whole work a cohesive unity that made it all the more powerful. And the sense of passionate abandon as the final movement raced to its fervent conclusion had a spirit of inevitability that made this performance one which I’m sure those present will long remember.
And if all that wasn’t enough, the second part of the programme brought us a very rare treat. Franz Liszt wasn’t the first to arrange Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony for piano, but Liszt’s version is so convincing as an effective piano work that it leaves all others in its wake. Even more than in the Appassionata Sonata, Michael Endres brought the power and grandeur of the music fully to life. It’s no wonder that several audience members chose to move back a few rows before the onslaught of the symphony.
For me, the performance revived awareness of so many harmonic delights which I’d lost track of in my familiarity with the orchestral original. The end of the second movement in particular revealed Beethoven’s seemingly endless ability to find new expressive ideas in his thematic material; and the Finale came up like a restored painting as the notes and harmonies took precedence over texture and timbre. Both Liszt’s arrangement and Endres’ performance gave new life to a long familiar work and, consequently, my appreciation of one of Beethoven’s greatest creations has been enhanced enormously. Michael Endres wisely omitted the exposition repeats in both the first and last movements; even so, his reserves of stamina were easily as impressive as his musicianship – a truly stunning start to this Beethoven anniversary year. So much for “dead white guys”; this one’s music lives on with as much relevance and expressive power as the day it was written.