Milverton
Concert Society

The Usual Brilliant Start

Chamber Orchestra Of The WestThe last day of September saw a gratifyingly large audience in St. Andrew’s, Wiveliscombe for the inaugural concert of the 2023/24 season from Milverton Concert Society. The reason for the shift of venue was obvious – performing for us was the 9-strong Chamber Orchestra of the West, and the more compact performing space of Milverton Church would not have been suitable. Founded in early 2020 by Jacqueline (Jackie) Shave, the orchestra’s goal is to “create and sustain relationships with the communities of Somerset, Devon and Cornwall through our live performance. To bring great music to all the people of the three counties; to play in the prestige venues, the less visited corners and in the places where those marginalised for whatever reason can hear us.

They presented a very varied programme, spanning many centuries and genres, and their sheer artistry and musical professionalism shone through at all times. The concert opened with what must be the oldest piece of music the audience had ever heard, from the 12th century. “O Virtus Sapientiae” (O power of wisdom) by Hildegard von Bingen is an atmospheric piece evoking the monastic life and times of long ago. The sustained string phrases, played with an almost complete lack of vibrato, were lovely and the perfect balance of the ensemble was a joy.

Also evoking times long gone, the next piece however could not have been more different. Debussy’s “Syrinx” (also known as ‘Flute of Pan’) is a staple of the flute repertoire and we were treated to a gorgeous performance from on high i.e. in the pulpit, by Eliza Marshall. Her limpid tones coupled with impeccable phrasing evoked mythological times and it was a musical tour de force.

Estonian composer Arvo Pärt was next; his “Fratres” (Brethren) was composed in 1977 without any specific instrumentation defined. Muted strings were Jackie’s choice and we heard an ethereal sound from the upper voices over a lower ground. Forthright ‘cello pizzicato interjections divided the set of variations and as the piece proceeded the texture was built up layer by layer. We heard a beautifully solid ensemble sound but with absolute clarity of the individual lines. The modality of this piece harked back to the von Bingen, and also in places I could hear hints reminiscent of the Vaughan Williams ‘Tallis Fantasia’. From comments at the interval I gather this work was not everyone’s cup of tea, but I enjoyed it greatly.

Another contrast followed with Faure’s “Après une Rêve”, a dream of a romantic flight with one’s lover away from the earthly mundane. Joely Koos produced a gloriously lush and soulful ‘cello sound, and she played the piece with great passion.

Leaping backwards once again, Purcell’s Fantasia is C Minor starts with very sparse writing for the strings, the early pages producing quite astringent harmonies/clashes. The faster second section took us into a more comfortable soundscape and once more the perfect balance and clarity of line was evident.

Peter Warlock’s “Capriol Suite” is very well known and we were treated to an energetic opening with a gloriously solid ensemble sound under perfect control. In the Pavane we had elegance with poignancy, sheer joie de vivre in the Tordion (brilliant pizzicato!), urgency and élan in the Bransles, wistful dreaminess in the Pied en l’Air and almost ruthless, driving, uninhibited energy in the final ‘Sword Dance’. A great performance.

Not only is Jackie Shave a first class performer, but also a composer, and the first half of the concert closed with her ‘Leaving my Homeland’ and ‘Machair to Myrrh’. These pieces had me listening intently, trying to pin down the ethnic sources of the melodies and timbres – is that Middle eastern? Oh, wait, no that’s definitely Celtic. Hang on that sounds a bit like port à beul (Gaelic ‘mouth music’). All pointless really; eventually I just enjoyed the very well-crafted music, especially the North African modality at the end – spiky, slinky and full of brilliance.

I was so touched at the interval – having made complimentary remarks in an earlier review about the cheesy bread sticks, I found that the Society had put aside and closely guarded some for me to enjoy with my glass of wine. Thank you!

The second half began with the Sonderho Bridal Trilogy, string versions of Danish folk melodies. The orchestra’s setting was based on the Danish String Quartet’s arrangement of these traditional tunes, and they transferred wonderfully to the larger ensemble. The sound idiom was quite modern but the old Scandinavian influence was very clear, reminiscent of Shetland fiddling in places (no surprise). I loved the exciting cross rhythms of the ‘cellos under the melody from the upper strings in the second piece. The third piece had a lovely wistful violin tune over a fragmented ‘cello accompaniment, the tune then morphing into a more free-flowing version before the beautifully tranquil end.

Bach’s fifth Brandenburg Concerto is famous as ‘the one where the harpsichord player goes berserk’. At the opening of the concert we were told that sadly the orchestra’s usual harpsichordist Pawel Siwczak was unable to play due to a sprained wrist (probably from practicing this piece!) and that by good fortune Anhad Arora (a PHD student at Merton College, Oxford) was available to fill the gap. The opening was once again a lovely example of the orchestra’s scrupulous attention to perfect balance, Eliza’s flute both blending and rising above the texture exactly as required. When it came to the harpsichord ‘cadenza’, Anhad unleashed a torrent of notes flawlessly played – I almost could not believe how so many notes could be played so quickly yet sound perfectly under control – bravo!

In the second movement the violin/flute/harpsichord trio was beautifully balanced and it was joy to listen to. By now of course I had put my reviewer’s notebook away and was just listening – the jaunty dance rhythms of the finale were beautifully executed.

The concert ended with “Stomping Song” by Varess. Jackie did say that this was the piece that demanded the greatest concentration from the players – I could see why, it’s rhythmically terrifying. The piece has a definite mid-European/gypsy/Hungarian feel to it and the sheer energy the orchestra put into it left me exhausted, never mind the players! The applause was prolonged and heartfelt – this was a great evening of music making and once more showed just how adept the Milverton Concert Society is at sourcing the very best for our musical entertainment.

Review by Harold W. Mead

BAROQUE BRILLIANCE - Friday 28 April 2023

A hardwood flute, gut strings, baroque bows and a magnificently ornate harpsichord were clear signs of a musically authentic evening In Milverton Church last Friday. A gratifyingly large audience was there to hear the prestigious and greatly talented London Handel Players, who led us unerringly through an evening of 18th century masterworks played in an equally masterful way.

Adrian Butterfield (violin), Sarah McMahon (‘cello), Rachel Brown (flute) and Silas Wollston (harpsichord) are half of the total complement of the group, who have been performing together since 2000 and have achieved world-wide recognition for their artistry. Their programme entitled ‘Pearls of the Baroque’ contained music by many of the ‘usual suspects’, but not every composer represented was a household name.

For instance the evening began with a quartet by Johann Fasch, a composer much admired by Bach, but not a name which comes readily to mind. From the stately outset we heard a mellow, beautifully balanced and ‘civilised’ ensemble sound, with a great rapport between the players. The harpsichord, a beautiful 2-manual instrument built by Somerset maker Andrew Garlick, at all times provided a solid underpinning to the texture without ever becoming obtrusive. In the adagio third movement Rachel’s limpid tone was just beautiful and in the presto final movement the violin and flute deftly swapped their individual tunes back and forward in such a complementary way that nobody dominated but everybody starred!

Bach was represented by Adrian and Silas playing the Violin Sonata No. 3 in E major, composed around 1720. This work is no showpiece for the violin with a mere continuo accompaniment – Bach was determined to give the keyboard at least equal prominence, and these two virtuosi made the most of it. From the wide-ranging violin melodies of the first movement to the competitive left-hand versus right-hand tunes of the second, this was a tour de force. Adrian’s double-stopping in the third movement was lovely and the cascades of notes from the harpsichord in the fourth (hints of Brandenburg 5!) were just jaw-dropping.

Scarlatti’s output for solo keyboard is truly colossal, and Silas’s playing of that composer’s Sonata in A Major K24 was brilliant. The harmonies in places have a distinctly Spanish (flamenco) colour, and one particular chord progression was described by Silas in his introduction as ‘boogie-woogie’ – we could see what he meant from his body language while playing! Again he produced what seemed to be impossibly fast strings of notes. The piece contains some rather un-Baroque harmonies at times and I’ll swear I could hear the ‘Ballad of Jimmy Brown’ in places. Both Scarlatti and Silas were having fun here.

To take us to the interval we heard Vivaldi, his Concerto in G Minor RV106. The first movement was largely a flute/violin dialogue but I have to say that Sarah’s support from the ‘cello far surpassed mere accompaniment and was a really rich part of the ensemble. The lovely flute tune over pizzicato strings of the second movement was a lovely pastorale, and I’m sure it would not have sounded so soulfully lovely on a modern metal instrument.

After the interval, with its usual delights, the second of the ‘unknown’ composers made his appearance. I confess never to have heard of Johann Joachim Quantz, despite his having written a truly vast quantity of music, much of it for flute. Rachel explained why – he was employed at the court of the flute-playing Frederick the Great, and apart from receiving a generous salary, he appeared also to have been on a piece-work arrangement – hence tonight’s work being Sonata No. 351!

The Sonata was pleasant – a sweet but almost melancholy first movement, a second movement with many flamboyant and florid passages for the flute and a stately dance-like tune passed between flute and ‘cello for the finale. It was certainly worth hearing, and Rachel played it beautifully, but I assume that nos. 350 and 352 might have sounded rather similar.

The trio sonata was a staple of the baroque period, and Handel wrote many of these throughout his life. His Opus 5 set, from which we heard No. 3, seem to have been stitched together from various dance suites written for other purposes. That said the piece did hang together very well – a stately opening, a fugal second movement, short slow movements acting as preludes to more energetic ones (such as the decidedly jaunty fifth movement) and a rustic dance for a finale were all impeccably played.

The evening ended with a quartet from the mighty Telemann (when Bach was appointed at the Leipzig St. Thomaskirche, they only grudgingly took him on because they couldn’t get Telemann!).
This light-hearted and sunny piece was jubilantly played throughout – I stopped taking notes and just revelled in the sheer virtuosity of the performance. Despite being the end of a long taxing evening, these four musicians were still in top form and they well deserved the long applause.

Thank you once again Milverton Concert Society for a good evening out!

Review by Harold W. Mead

Turkish Delights – Friday 31 March 2023

The Milverton Concert Society is the gift that keeps on giving, nourishing its enthusiastic and loyal audiences with one musical feast after another. The latest sell-out aural banquet was no exception, given by the prodigiously talented, virtuoso British-Turkish pianist Lara Melda who, aged only 16, was catapulted into stardom when she won the 2010 BBC Young Musician competition.

The delicacy which opened the concert was no light starter but meaty Austro-German sustenance: Beethoven’s Sonata no.17 in D minor Op.31 no.2 ‘The Tempest’. Composed at a time of extreme mental torment for the composer, acutely aware of his growing deafness and the silence that was his destiny, the work is a triumph of the human will over adversity. Lara gave a performance of total conviction and full of dramatic contrasts, whether between the opening movement’s stormy and peaceful passages or between the central slow movement’s contemplative calm and the finale’s bravura energy.

For such a storm-tossed work the Beethoven ends surprisingly quietly. The lack of applause that followed was merely a reluctance on the part of a rapt audience to break the magical spell that Lara had cast. Almost immediately, and seamlessly, a radiant melody was slowly rising amidst a welter of mellifluous arpeggios as Lara caressed the opening notes of Liszt’s enchanting Étude in D flat Major S. 144 No.3 ‘Un Sospiro’. Those foolish enough to think that slow music is technically less difficult than fast do not know their Liszt! For whilst sedate in tempo, this beautiful study is technically fiendish, demanding playing of dazzling virtuosity. But whatever the pianistic challenges – rapid arpeggios in both hands; chromatic scales in parallel sixths; cross-hand playing – Lara was more than equal to the task, giving a beautiful and totally beguiling performance of this justly popular Romantic piece. The Poulenc Novelette in E minor FP 173 from ‘Trois Novelettes’ which followed was like a fairy tale improvisation, with a moonlit quality culminating in delicately chiming bell-like sounds. Lara drew us in to this haunting and intimate world with playing of real delicacy and with a velvet touch and beauty of tone that characterised the recital as a whole.

The first half concluded with a return to the Austro-German tradition and serious Teutonic fayre: two highly contrasting pieces from Brahms’s Fantasien Op. 116. First, we were immersed in the gentle, introverted nostalgia of Brahms’s bittersweet Intermezzo in A minor, beautifully played with subtle harmonic voicing throughout. Next we were jolted out of our dreamy melancholy by the arresting opening of the volcanic Capriccio in D minor. This was music of dramatic changes of mood and tempo, impassioned one moment, reflective the next, with Lara proving once again a persuasive musical storyteller, leading us on a musical journey full of surprises.

The second half was devoted to a single composer and the one to whom Lara’s 2020 debut CD was also devoted: Chopin. It opened with one of the composer’s most celebrated pieces, the Nocturne in B flat minor Op. 9 No. 1. From its first delicately played right hand notes emerging from the silence to float, mournfully, above the left hand’s arpeggios before rising to an impassioned climax, we were instantly drawn into this beautiful, nostalgic reverie and were held spellbound right through to its serene close. The recital concluded with Chopin’s weighty final piano sonata, the Sonata No. 3 in B minor Op. 58, four movements of huge technical complexity which were dispatched with effortless ease by Lara. The Ballade-like opening movement was chock full of cascading arpeggios and fast-paced runs executed with dazzling panache. The scarily rapid and fiendishly difficult second movement scherzo was light and airy, Lara’s touch gossamer-like, the playing mesmeric. The nocturne-like third movement was performed with real emotional intensity and beauty of tone; and then to the finale: a demonic presto galloping wildly to its bravura coda and bringing this scintillating performance to a triumphant close. It was received with rapturous applause. We were not going to
let Lara escape into the rainy Somerset night without giving us at least one more morsel of Turkish delight, or rather as it turned out (and far more urgently topical) Turkish despair , ‘Masal ‘ which translates as ‘Story’ by Adrian Saygun.: a poignant and heart-felt homage to the victims of the Turkish earthquake with gently tolling bells and folksong-like cantilena.

I left St Michael’s Church feeling not only deeply moved by what I had just heard but, as always with the concerts provided by the Milverton Concert Society, hugely privileged to have been treated to musicianship of such high calibre in the depths of Somerset. Many thanks to Lara and to the Society’s organisers. More please!

Review by Julian White

AMAZING VIRTUOSITY - Sunday 5 February 2023

I’ve said it before and I’ve got to say it again – Milverton Concert Society puts on the most superb concerts and gives us the privilege of hearing an amazing array of musical talent of the highest quality, time after time. They did it again today (Sunday 5th Feb) when a totally sold out, jam packed St. Andrew’s in Wiveliscombe heard the stunning performer that is Jess Gillam in a wonderfully varied programme.

Saxophonist Jess is of course one of Britain’s newest musical stars, following her dazzling debut in the BBC Young Musician competition in 2016. She was the first saxophonist ever to reach the Final and is the youngest soloist ever to appear in the Last Night of the Proms. Her career has taken off since then and among other achievements she now has her own weekly show on BBC Radio 3.

For the concert Jess was joined by Turkish pianist Zeynep Özsuca, and these two ladies forged a musical partnership of the highest order. The programme spanned centuries and styles and was a tour de force from beginning to end. Jess played a soprano sax throughout, an instrument which at first sight does not look like the typical saxophone (no bendy bit at the bottom!), but which produces a beautifully consistent sound from the lowest to the highest register. She told us how she loved the patina her instrument has developed, despite her granddad’s frequent offers to “Brasso it up a bit”.

The programme began with Poulenc’s Sonata for Oboe and Piano which transferred flawlessly to Jess’s instrument. In the first movement Jess produced elegant, limpid phrasing with beautiful control in the stronger outbursts. Zeynep’s headlong rush into the Scherzo was brilliantly matched by Jess, whose clarity of tone and articulation was maintained right through the madcap romp to the end of the movement. In the finale, Jess exploited the sonorous lower register, producing magical ppp and wending her way through almost mystical shifts of tonality to the tranquil end.

‘Lumina’, written for Jess by Ayanna Witter-Johnson, is characterised by seemingly disconnected notes floating in the ether, yet somehow forming a chain of melody, the changes in tonality and timbre keeping us concentrating! It was wonderful how a piece, seemingly made of fragments, could sound so coherent in the hands of a master musician. Barbara Thompson’s ‘The Unseen Way’ is very different, with a strong jazz/blues feel to it. It makes you think of jazz improvisation, but it is has been expertly crafted and Jess showed stunning virtuosity as the notes cascaded out, her fingers moving faster than the eye could follow.

To take us up to the interval, and the Concert Society’s signature wine and cheese sticks, Jess took us back to the 18th century and the prolific pen of Telemann, playing his Sonata in F Minor. Originally written for bassoon, Jess’s treatment brought this piece to brilliant life, from the soulful first movement through the skittish second, where her jaw-dropping fingering was equally matched by terrific playing from Zeynep. The tranquil, reflective third movement was elegantly phrased, with well controlled dynamics and a jaunty performance of the finale with crystal clear articulation of the tunes took us happily to our break.

After a lovely twenty minutes of happy socialising, we then heard Jess play three short pieces, very cleverly segueing each into the next, forming a stream of melody. Meredith Monk’s ‘Early Morning Melody’ formed a soulful reflective prelude to Glass’s ‘Melody for Saxophone No. 10’. This piece has a constrained start, with a structure of repetitive piano chords supporting the saxophone melody, and we were then led seamlessly into Luke Howard’s ‘Dappled Light’, a more expansive piece with tonally wide-ranging figures, all present with great aplomb.

Astor Piazzolla is the greatest exponent of the Tango, and his most famous piece in that genre ‘L’Histoire du Tango’ was next. Depicting tango through various time periods and milieus (Bordello, Café and Night Club) Jess gave a glorious performance, managing to sound abandoned while under perfect control, free-spirited at times, yet also able to depict the almost claustrophobic atmosphere of a smoke-filled cellar night club the next. As we came nearer to our own times, Piazzolla wrote music which managed to convey the unease of modern life with an edge of wariness, all beautifully interpreted by both musicians.

Another pair of short pieces, ‘Overnight’ by Chilly Gonzales and ‘Je ne t’aime pas’ by Kurt Weill were also successfully tacked together, the former dreamy and at times languid work leading into the more plangent world of Weill in the 1930’s.

The concert ended with a barnstorming work, composed for Jess by John Harle, wonderfully named ‘RANT!’ Based on folk tunes from Jess’s part of the UK (Lancashire, Westmoreland and Cumberland) this is the perfect vehicle for her stunning talent. It is rhythmically terrifying (for both instruments) and Zeynep and Jess were totally stunning in their virtuosity. I just can’t imagine how Jess’s brain and finger coordination can work to produce such a torrent of rapid notes with absolutely no hint of difficulty. What a finish to a stunning afternoon of music-making, which was rapturously received by the capacity audience.

Keep it up, MCS – we love it!

Review by Harold W. Mead

Ariel Lanyi – Saturday 11 June 2022

What a privilege it was to hear the young Jerusalem-born, multi-prize-winning pianist Ariel Lanyi perform in the delightful setting of Milverton’s candle-lit St Michael’s Church. On the evidence of this memorable concert, Ariel clearly has a stellar career ahead of him.

Having youthfully skipped on stage he launched, like an artist possessed, into an arresting performance of the opening piece. No gentle warm up act, this: a tumultuous volley of notes announced the opening of Schumann’s Allegro in B minor Op.8, an early, virtuosic movement which, on the evidence of this persuasive performance, deserves to be heard more frequently in the concert hall. Ariel effortlessly dispatched the movement’s bravura passages whilst conveying imaginatively its more improvisatory and mercurial side. The closing, dramatic shift from minor to major – from dark to light – brought this scintillating performance to a vibrant close.

Staying with Schumann, but lowering the temperature, we were then treated to the thirteen evocative childhood recollections of the composer’s exquisitely crafted Kinderszenen Op. 15, ‘pretty little things’ according to its creator which he apparently dashed off at great speed. Ariel’s interpretation was of the utmost refinement and intimacy, each musical jewel polished with care and attention, the work’s contrasting colours and moods perfectly judged. The ever-popular Träumerei, played with a delicacy of touch and tonal beauty, was faster than often heard but no less dreamily touching for that. Lost in rapt attention, at times it felt as if we were listening in on the inner world of both composer and artist.

As someone intending to visit Cordoba later this month, I was particularly looking forward to being musically transported to Spain via the third and penultimate book of Albéniz’s Iberia, a true masterpiece of the late-Romantic piano repertoire. No ‘travel carnage’ here, just a colourfully impressionist evocation of the atmospheric gypsy quarter of Granada in El Albaicín, the music of flamenco in El Polo and in Lavapiés, the work’s exuberant finale, the noisy street life of Madrid’s Jewish quarter. Iberia’s piano writing is notoriously taxing. Not in Ariel’s hands. But this performance went far beyond mere virtuosity. There is a word in Spanish, ‘duende’, meaning a heightened state of emotion, expression, often connected with flamenco (It is also the name of a marvellous restaurant in Wiveliscombe!). Proving that it is not exclusively the preserve of those with Spanish blood in their veins, Ariel’s performance had ‘duende’ in spades.

The second half was devoted to one work, a chef d’oeuvre of the piano repertoire: Beethoven’s monumental, final Piano Sonata in B flat Op. 106, the ‘Hammerklavier’. Fiendishly difficult, indeed deemed unplayable until Liszt proved otherwise fifteen years after its composition, within its vast 45-minute span, the performer’s technical and musical capabilities are tested to the extreme. It is a work of huge emotional range, encompassing the drama of its opening movement, the humour of its second movement scherzo, the moving lyricism and emotional profundity of its immense slow movement and the volcanic eruptions of its great, fugal finale. Ariel gave us a truly thrilling performance: a performance which, as in all the other works presented to us in this memorable recital, can be summed up by that almost untranslatable word ‘duende’. We owe a huge thanks to Ariel and, as ever, to the remarkable Milverton Concert Society for allowing us to enjoy such musical riches in deepest Somerset.

Review by Julian White