Thursday 6 March 2008

Bach: St. John Passion

I am not going to say anything about the St. John Passion - there are reams written about it already by better brains than mine. All I will say is that yesterday evening (March 5th) in the City Hall, the Irish Chamber Orchestra, the National Chamber Choir of Ireland and soloists put on a sublime performance with an edge of theatricality. Superb musicians, superb music...it was glorious, simply glorious. Irish Chamber Orchestra & National Chamber Choir of Ireland with guests, Sylvia O'Brian (Soprano), Robin Tritschler (Tenor) - Evangelist, Mark Wilde (Tenor), Benjamin Bevan (Baritone), Grant Doyle - Christus & James Laing (Counter Tenor). Conductor, Stephen Layton.

Tchaikovsky & The Armed Man

Cork School of Music Symphony Orchestra & Cork School of Music Fleischmann Choir Saturday 1st March 8pm & Sunday 2nd March 3:30pm City Hall, Cork Tchaikovsky's Symphony no.5 in e minor Karl Jenkin's 'The Armed Man: A Mass for Peace' As part of an unusually busy weekend, I found myself going to the City Hall on Sunday afternoon to see old comrades sing the Cork premiere of Karl Jenkin’s ‘The Armed Man: A Mass for Peace’ and, wonderfully, there was a very good turn-out for the concert, especially when you think that this was its second performance over the weekend. No mean feat for the marketing department. Settling in to the back of the balcony as the performance is about to begin, there is the usual level of shuffling, coughing, doors banging open & shut, chatting and general foostering, which is so much part of going to a concert in the City Hall these days. Well into the first movement of the Tchaikovsky, when the whole mood of the piece is being set up by the string section, we are assaulted by doors thumping, people climbing up and down the stairs and sidling past those who were there on time, with highly audible whispers of apology. And then there is the final act of removing outdoor garments which for some reason simply cannot be done in the corridor or lobby outside the hall and always must be accompanied by yet more whispering. This is entirely facilitated by the those on the doors coming into the hall to watch the performance and, as a result, are not stationed outside to ask people to wait for a break in performance before clattering into their seats. It is hugely disrespectful for those both on stage and off it who have made it there with time to spare. Whether you are permanently late, or have been genuinely and unavoidably delayed, I’m sorry for your trouble but it makes no odds to those inside – it is an unnecessary and unfair disruption and should be knocked on the head immediately. If you are late, then it is basic good manners to wait outside the hall until the end of the first movement (generally 5-7 minutes, which if you are late will result in a considerably shorter wait time) and then make your way quickly and quietly to your seat. And someone should be outside the door to ensure this happens and not be lounging around or worse, walking around, the back of the hall, having a bit of a listen. You can tell, I’m sure, that this is a bit of a bugbear for me. Despite this, the mood settles and a hush descends over us all and focus is finally placed fully on the stage. Tchaikovsky’s 5th Symphony paints a very clear picture for me. It is redolent with the images of men walking to war; the heavy trudge of their footsteps and inevitability of the carnage to come, followed through the other three movements by the bloody mists rising from the battlefield after the battle, the officers wining and dining far from the scenes of horror and finally the rose-tinted recollection of battles won by those same officers receiving medals over the bodies of their dead soldiers. Mmmm…lovely stuff. Perhaps all that came to mind because of the piece which was to follow. Who knows? It was technicolour-vivid at the time. A quick word on the orchestra…when you are listening to them, it is hard to keep in mind that they are students, for the most part second-level students. The level of professionalism (in the good sense, not the union-membership, work-to-rule sense) brought to this and other performances by this group is immense and must not be forgot. I have had the pleasure of both listening to and working with this bunch before and it is always a joy. These kids may never play as well again in their lives (as I know) once they stop studying music but that is a high standard at which to stop. Let us not forget that they are fitting in weekly an evening of orchestra rehearsal, possibly a theory class and equally possibly a chamber music rehearsal, on top of being expected to practise an hour every day (ha ha) and this is on top of school and sports and social life and study. No mean feat. And yet they do it and do it with enthusiasm.. I know, because I was one of those students. Quite simply, I loved this performance and I loved the Tchaikovsky. It is a piece into which they could really sink their teeth (a.k.a. difficult) but they mastered and performed it and held the audience. Some tiny criticisms would be a slight fluffing in one of the trumpet fanfares and in the string section it seemed to be a bit beyond them to shush and let the wind through with a tune in the last movement (yes, strings, occasionally you are the accompaniment, not the tune – amazing isn’t it?), but overall it was an involving and mastered performance. The second half was a different kettle of fish. This was the Cork Premier of Karl Jenkin’s work “The Armed Man: A Mass for Peace”. Opening with “L’homme armé”, a 15thC French song, and closing with “Better is Peace” (quoting Alfred Lord Tennyson), it is “the result of a special millennial commission from the Royal Armouries…” (programme notes). Mr Jenkins has had a wide and varied musical career, covering classical, jazz and other genres. “It’s difficult to think of another composer who could successfully place a muezzin’s call to prayer within a Mass setting and follow it with a Kyrie that quotes both Palestrina and Brazilian drum rhythms. That Karl Jenkins does so with such ease and to such powerful effect is a tribute to his remarkable skill and musical sensitivity” (programme notes). Couldn’t have said it better myself. Funnily enough, and I am ashamed to admit this, but I had never heard of Karl Jenkins before last Sunday, which is hard to credit when you realise that he appears to have gotten everywhere musically speaking – from experimental jazz to classical, from pop commercials to ethnic ecclesiastic, he has composed it all, it seems. But enough about the supremely multi-talented Jenkins – suffice to say, the work is at one and the same time stirring and calming, brutal and utterly sweet, makes you feel hope and despair (but leaves you with hope, which is nice). If you can get a copy, have a listen – it’s worth it. The Fleischmann Choir also had a good night – looked well, sang well, need I say more? I don’t think I will – I’m running out of steam – so I’ll stop. But, just so as you have some idea of what we were listening to, here is the lyric to one of the parts of the Mass: "Torches" (part of the whole work)"The animals scattered in all directions, screaming terrible screams. Many were burning, others were burnt. All were shattered and scattered mindlessly, their eyes bulging. Some hugged their sons, others their fathers and mothers, unable to let them go, and so they died. Others leapt up in their thousands, faces disfigured and were consumed by the fire. Everywhere were bodies squirming on the ground, wings, eyes and paws all burning. They breathed their last as living torches." Oh by the bye, and back to reviewing the audience, may I add one final thing? Absolutely, and under no circumstances, should it be necessary to be eating something which comes in a crinkly wrapper. Ever. Even if you’re diabetic. Quiet foods can be brought instead. And, just so you know, opening a boiled sweet slowly does not make it quieter, it merely prolongs the misery.

Monday 3 March 2008

The Coronas, live at Cyprus Avenue

The Coronas Cyprus Avenue, Cork Saturday 1st March 2008 Support: Caccade This is the happiest band in the world. Or, at least, they have the happiest lead singer. (My mind kept thinking of Gidgit films, I’m not sure why.) The Meteor Music Best Irish Pop Act Award nominees, the Coronas, arrived on stage to a very appreciative audience, made up predominantly of females, it must be said. At least near the stage. Very well-presented females too. Variously described as Pop or Rock-Indie-Alternative (Wikipedia), I’ll add my own: Anthemic Guitar Pop. This is feel-good music sung by a happy man who loves being on stage with his guitar, or piano, depending, and it is aimed fair and square at the college market. If you are in any doubt about this, just read the lyrics to the chorus of their recent single ‘San Diego Song’: “We sleep all day and drink all night. We are not wasting our time. We refuse to hide. We’re going out tonight.” If that isn’t something with which pretty much every 3rd-level student in the country can identify, I don’t know what is. It was certainly making me feel nostalgic. This was their first gig on an 11-date nationwide tour, culminating in an Olympia Theatre gig in Dublin on April 6th, which, with their recent single “San Diego Song”, the new single “Grace, don’t wait” and last year’s album “Heroes or Ghosts”, will only serve to jack their popularity ever skyward. Their music is infectious and their delivery energy-fuelled. These are guys who seem to love what they do and it shows. Mid-way through the gig, a guest-musician was brought on and vanished into the shadows to play keyboard. In fact, this reviewer, although she heard that someone new was coming on stage, missed the actual entrance and spent the rest of the gig vaguely wondering exactly where the piano sound was coming from. Is it a loop? Is it a pre-recording? No, it’s a hidden artiste! She didn’t even know there was a second keyboard on stage. Lads, the lighting in Cyprus Avenue could be looked at. The singer was occasionally almost completely invisible, with the spot being kept firmly centre-stage, regardless of who was where doing what. The crowd was in good form from the word go, giving the support act a very warm reception (mind you, they did deserve it) and carrying this right through the wonderfully bouncy set from the Coronas, even to the point of forcing another chorus from the famèd San Diego Song, singing on after the band had stopped – always a take-home moment in any gig. So, Westlife won their 8th consecutive Meteor Music Award for Best Irish Pop Act… The Coronas Danny O’Reilly Conor Egan Graham Knox Dave McPhillips