I lasted 3.5 hours....

Well, it was Wagner's Parsifal, in the opening event of the first Vilnius opera festival, with the Marinsky Theatre, Gergiev conducting, and lots of Russian singers. But boy, was it boring.

Did not help that I sat between a young American, who had flown over that day, and was asleep in the first act, jerking his head up about every minute, and an elderly Lithuanian, a keen concert goer, but who has a personal hygiene problem (in the downstairs department....).

Everyone who was anyone, was there (again!), including my shrink in a rather nice short black dress (she wears well, given that she is a few minutes older than me). The foyer was set up (again!) for a post-event reception - Gergiev must think that in Vilnius there are receptions after every concert.

But oh, that opera. I had not read the plot before; it's all about holy grails, sacred woodlands, mixed with Christian rituals (a communion service) and so on. Blah! The music is nice, but when the overture started with slow music I thought - that'll go on all evening! And so it did. Seems a very unbalanced opera; one guy does most of the singing in the first act; in the second act this guy is almost mute and Parsifal stands around at the side of the stage most of the time; in the third act Parsifal does most of the singing...and the rest I don't know, I was not there.

The set was standard Russian; first I thought it was the lite set for travelling, but it was quite cleverly put together with lots of different backdrops; but still a standard Russian faux-modern faux-old set. The dresses were fairly standard, too, operatic, total fantasy. Poor Parsifal appeared on his first entry just wearing tights on his legs; later he was allowed some boots and trousers.  In the third act some guy ghosted around with what appeared to be a grey Russian onion-dome on his head - his wig. Seemed to be carrying a spear.  At the beginning and end of that act there was quite a nice scene with lots of girls in very colourful costumes wafting around; it was really a very phallic scene, involving a sword, and I was trying to imagine what a more adventurous producer/designer might have made of this. (Sometimes it is hard watching or reading something with a psychoanalytic gaze).

The orchestra played beautifully; lovely string sound. In the overture I was not sure if the strings and winds were quite together, and certainly, in the ladies' scene, the girls' entries were well apart.  The singers were good, apart from one rather nasal tenor who had a couple of lines to sing.  But it was all standing around and singing.

For me, that's quite enough of Parsifal. Tomorrow it's an opera by Shchedrin....

Unbelievable!

Sergey Malov, the winner of the Jascha Heifetz violin competition in Vilnius, has now walked off with the first prize of the Tokyo viola competion!!!!!!!!!!!

Incredible - I wonder if anyone has ever done that before???? Winning both violin and viola competitions....

Mind you, if Malov played spoons, the washboard, or the harp - with his musicianship he would win every competition.

Welldone!

Vilnius is HIP!

Of course we knew that anyway, though sometimes there are aspects ....hmmm.

I'm talking about historically informed performance - in music. At last it is arriving in Vilnius, and it seems, even being taught at the music academy. Welcome to the 21st century!

Seemed like it was Mindaugas Backus' (final?) exam for his doctorate (given the heavy mob loitering at the back of the hall). Backus is of course that wonderful cellist about whom I have written often. Recently he has developed quite an interest in baroque technique, even to the degree of buying a (modern) baroque cello. Not sure if he sparked that interest in the music academy, or vice versa.  Suspect the former is more likely to be the case, after hearing the tone in the voice of a music professor about 'old music' when I had bumped into him the day before.

It was a chamber music exam, so there were lots of other players. All the string players used the baroque bow. Now, call me fussy, but normally I think you would hold the baroque bow a bit higher up, or does that only apply when you use a modern bow to play in the baroque style? Baroque bows perform quite differently. Backus clearly also had gut strings on his instrument - given the amount of tuning he had to do, and the slower response of the strings. Not sure about the other ones - the other two cellists also, like him, bravely held their cellos with their legs. It would be a bit of a job, restringing a cello just for one concert....I also wondered if someone would make concert clothes with a non-slip inside leg? As long as they don't wear skirts or trousers with an elasticated waist....The violinist (Rima Svegdaite, from the St Christopher Chamber Orchestra) had an interesting woman-shaped violin (without corners) and the flautist (Vytenis Giknius, from the Lithuanian state orchestra) used a wooden flute - its sound was so different from the modern metal flutes; so much warmer.  The harpsichord was the usual all-over-Vilnius harpsichord. Really I don't know why composers at that time wrote for it in ensembles; I could not hear it at all (not the player's fault, of course - Vaiva Eidukaite-Storastiene).

Anyway. The concert began with Vivaldis Sonata No 5 for cello and basso continuo (played by another cello, possibly Onute Svabauskaite). I am sure I know it. It was very nice - one little portamento slipped in, probably by accident, but otherwise it was great - nicely played in the baroque style. I wondered, though, whether it had been written for cello originally - it was so fast (in the fast movements) that the strings did not have enough time to respond; they were almost meeting themselves coming backwards. I would have put it down more for violin (or maybe flute, if it fits under flute fingerings).

This was followed by Telemann's cantata for flute, soprano (Nora Petrochenko) and cello 'Ew'ge Quelle, milder Strom'; sounds like one you might not wish to sing to someone with a prostrate condition. Beautiful flute solos, and the usual da capo style arias.  Again very nicely performed, though I realised after a while that the singer was singing in German. As she should be, it's Telemann, after all. Then I tried to listen to the words, but had some difficulty. The word is 'ich', not 'isch'.  Bit of a shame.

Finally we had a quartet from the 'New Quartets in Six Suites' - typically baroque, Telemann threw in an inaudible harpsichord as well. I wondered if the flute part might have been a violin part originally. It was a nice conversation between the flute and the three string instruments. I thought the violin did not come through very well (gut strings??), and there were some intonation issues. Was it really written for two upper instruments (flute/violin) and two cellos? Here the second cello was played by Roma Jaraminaite (unless the female cellists were the other way round - you know what I mean...) Anyway, it was fun. Backus was ready to take off - I wondered how different it is to play a cello you have to hold up, rather than one which is pinned to the ground.

Great little concert!

Death and Destruction on the balcony

This year I had decided to do a bit for colour on the balcony. Great timing - looks like I might be off to Africa shortly, for the rest of the year....

So I planted some nasturtiums, to wind themselves round the balcony railing, when they grow up. Last weekend they had shot up and almost reached the edge of the window box.

Yesterday we had at least one hailstorm. The nasturtiums are shredded! Luckily the tiny growing points seem to be all right, so they may recover.  Near miss!

And who was that leading the viola section of the Scala Milan chamber orchestra?

There I was, in the concert of the chamber orchestra of La Scala, Milan, idly gazing around the band, watching the viola section (I had a really cheap standing ticket, for 5 LT - how come it was so cheap? and there were no real sets left to crowd into), when suddenly I thought, I know the viola leader. You know how it is when you see a person in unexpected places, you don't recognize them, or at least I don't - terrible memory for faces...Was that our own Ula Ulijona Zebriunaite? That dark viola, I recognized it, too - and indeed it was! What's she doing playing in that band? Is it a move away from the Kremerata Baltica? What about the string quartet she is playing in? Seems she is up to all these things - well, congratulations, Ula!

To some degree it was rather a standard concert. The four seasons of Vivaldi interspersed with four seasons of Piazzola. Nowadays one knows both sets of pieces as well as each other. Given that Piazzola is Argentinian one wonders if his seasons should not be played upside down, what with the seasons being in different months of the year in Argentina.  It was also strange about the concert arrangement and applause - there was no interval, and the band breezed through all 8 sets of pieces in one go, apparently not particularly inviting applause between any of them, though occasionally the audience made itself felt - in a rather random sort of way.

The interpretation of the Vivaldi was rather conventional (Cepinskas does a more interesting one), but beautifully played. Oh that cellist! Sitting in the standing room seats I could not see the violins, but I got the impression that the cellist was leading the band. The soloist was great - apart from appearing in a very stylish red shirt (where did he buy that??) and white trousers, he fairly blistered through the fast movements. Was it really possible to play them that fast? Obviously it was.

This kind of concert attracts two kinds of people, or maybe three - those who go to concerts to be seen (and yes, they were there), those who like Vivaldi and suffer Piazzola, and those who like Piazzola and suffer Vivaldi, and yes, ok, there are those who like them both (so four kinds of people).  At the end the band gave two Piazzola encores - when, finally, they launched into Libertango, the Filharmonija briefly converted into a pop concert, with the audience cheering, as the band started to play. I don't really mind, it's nice that people enjoy music - a woman in the front row seemed to be close to orgasm at that point....

Wonders will never cease!

Got a big surprise after the end of the Lithuanian National Symphony Orchestra's contribution to the Vilnius Festival - see below.

The programming involved the delightful Osvaldas Balakauskas' symphonic poem 'Tetra', Prokofiev's second piano concerto, and Skriabin's third symphony.  I had some misunderstanding about Tetra; I thought it was an early work (of the 70s) but it is in fact a work of 2007; quite recent, therefore.  It's a piece for full, very full orchestra, including piano (I did not see one, but maybe it was under the balcony, and thus under me), lots of percussion, and harp. I am not sure the textures really came through - the way it was performed it was rather a lot of noise; maybe it is meant to be like that, maybe not. Not sure if 'Tetra' is a Lithuanian word (it's not in my dictionary), or whether it is related to 3, as in 'tetrapak'. Oh dear, the associations we have. Would need to listen to it again.

This was followed by Prokofiev's second piano concerto; a piece I did not know at all.  Toradze is apparently a great Prokofiev expert; he has recorded all Prokofiev's five concertos and his recording of the third has been described as 'historically the best on record, out of over 70 recordings (Wikipedia reports).  This one was a momentous work; in a kind of baroque structure with four movements, but that's where the baroque stops. Technically it looked, and sounded, awesome - with long, very long, composed cadenzas, and a serious physical work-out for the pianist.  Toradze, for the big guy that he is, has the most amazing soft touch, where required - I bet as a dancer he'll be light on his feet, as some people of that size are.

Finally we had Skriabin's third symphony, another piece I don't know at all (theme of the evening?). Again a stunning piece, with lovely violin lines (cannot remember that much about it, to be honest, two days after the event). Three movements, played in one; it went down very well indeed.

The surprise? I never thought that Domarkas can speak English, but here both he and Toradze (who lives in America but is a Georgian who studied in Russia; he and Domarkas go back a long way) spoke English all evening. Usually Domarkas speaks Lithuanian and takes no prisoners with soloists who do not share this language (ie ALL foreigners).  And his English is good!  It confirmed my idea that he is a Lithuanian nationalist. At the post-concert reception there was a flavour of anti-Russian Georgian and Lithuanian nationalism in the air; ah well.

What was much more interesting in the town hall yesterday...

....than the Fortvio interview was the press photo exhibition on the top landing, covering the Georgian/Russian war, some Lithuanian politics and life in Lithunia.

One cannot expect, in Lithuania, even-handedness when Georgia and its freedom are concerned; so the photos were of Georgian soldiers being taken prisoner, an old woman protesting in the street and so on. In another country perhaps a photo of the shelled by Georgians Tskhinvali might have been included, for balance.

Among the Lithuanian photos was one of one poor MP, who at some event involving journalists, dropped his mobile phone, and when leaning back to pick it up, it seems he got the heebie-jeebies about the journalists. Whereupon he fled into a cleaner's cupboard, and hid in that, with the journos outside, for nearly 12 hours. The photo is of him leaning with his face into a wall, eyes closed - story is that he did not move while in there. Afterwards the police carted him off for an alcohol test. I suspect that a chap, who had really been alcoholised, would have left some other traces after 12 hours in a cupboard.  I felt really sorry for the guy.

Then there was a photo of a wee boy and his labrador who had been hit by a train (the dog) and survived. They're tough, those Labs. The dog's front leg had been injured, and he had lost a large chunk of skin, it seems, from his shoulder. Also he was wearing one of those trumpet things over his head, to stop him scratching his ears, or maybe linking his shoulder. I was surprised to read that the skin was being fixed with 'medical skin'. Of course I know nothing about the case, but I do remember that when my cat was half-skinned by a car, looking like a skinned chicken, the skin and hair grew back all by themselves....

Dear Fortvio Trio....

so today I went to the concert of my favourite Lithuanian trio, in the Vilnius town hall - and what did I get? A 'meet the Fortvio Trio' event.

Now I know the tickets were cheap - was that why we got so little music and so much talking? Ok, so you organised a stunningly attractive mistress of honour, with hair larger than her American size 0 body, and who was very good at her job...but why all this talking? She gave a long introduction, rattling through everyone's CVs - and everyone who was there knew you anyway, apart from the tourists who would not understand her, then you played a short piece (Tanayev?), and then up came another interview, about how you met and all that. In the Tanayev, and the first movement of the Haydn, the piano was far too loud - I could see the violin play, but not hear her - maybe that was an acoustics problem in the town hall. Often I could not hear the cello either, and dammit, I was in the second row.

Frankly, that's what I don't go to concerts for, but for music. And what was that with you playing only 2 movements of the Haydn? That's something that school children do, but frankly, you are now adults, and it is time to give serious concerts. The Haydn was, to be fair, stunningly played - oh, that third movement! But then started another interview about competitions. That's when I left, and went to the supermarket instead.

Did you not have enough repertoire to fill the whole concert? I was a bit worried anyway about you playing all those competition pieces. Competitions are all very well, but rather an East European way of building a career, and I am sure you spend much time working up competition pieces, when you should be broadening your repertoire instead.

You are still my favourite trio; when you played, you played with such energy and enjoyment - but please, give us adult-sized concerts next time.

Nostril to Nostril....

that's what the audience and the performers were, at tonight's concert of the Lithuanian State Symphony Orchestra performing the Bernstein Mass. There was the audience (it was sold out, at the last minute I was able to buy a ticket off an old lady) with extra rows in front of the front row, seats up the stairs, and there were the performers - two choirs, 9 soloists, the orchestra with extra reinforcements. There were loudspeakers - the soloists were miked up (I mean, really, it was a 'classical' music concert), so if anything had short circuited and caught a fire, there would have been deaths. No fire police in Lithuanian concert venues.....

Can't say I care for this piece. It was interesting, far from the traditional mass format I expected; kind of West Side Story meets Sound of Music meets American evangelical preachers.  But what does a yiddishe boy know about goyim music anyway (or vice versa).... The solo singing was more musical style, with singers who I had never seen before, apart from one opera house singer who had about two lines to sing. They were very very good, though. There was even a boy soprano, poor soul, he had to wear a virgin-white suit - at the beginning he was far from the class in which he would have been allowed to sing a solo in a British choir school (we don't have that tradition here, and it shows), but he got better at the end. It was really rather corny, though, the way in which, at the end, he joined the main part (narrator, priest kind of role) and seemed to walk off into the sunset. The narrator singer was really, really good at what he did - it's just that American evangelical preachers make me want to vomit. I mean, religion is something sacred, not something to be folksy or happy-clappy about. To me, anyway.  Perhaps I should treat it as ironic....  And what did it have to do with narcotics? That word flashed up on the Lithuanian translation screen - something like 'keep me taking from narcotics'. Bernstein would know, I suppose.

Some weird stuff about this performance; there were bits in which taped music was played. Was that intended by Bernstein, was the band unable to play these bits,  or did they not have time to rehearse these?  The percussion, Pavelas Giunteris and many colleagues, had a field day. The rest of the orchestra did not play, most of the time - it was nearly always only ever sections of the band.

It was very interesting in an appalled sort of way, but I felt severely tempted to go and leave, whether Mr President was there or not. But it was 1 hour 40 minutes of uninterrupted music, and there was nothing I could do....That's one I can tick off now.

Get those coats aff the chairs!

You know those concerts where the seats are not numbered? So people come in early, and spread their coats or programmes over the chairs next to them for their friends, who often cruise in at the last minute, and sometimes not. I once remembered a little old lady in Russia, sitting in the front row, defending the seat next to her to the death. The only occupant of the seat was her handbag, and lots of home-grown (or park-grown) flowers, with which she rushed to the stage, every time the conductor dropped his baton - between movements 'n all.  The next day I saw her outside the supermarket, going through bins looking for empty bottles.....

This is intensely irritating. It would appear, as the German Fono-Forum states, that in Germany at least this contravenes the law, the Buergerliches Gesetzbuch (for my German readers). I wonder how that is phrased in the law: 'Though shalt not place thy coat across the seats of others?'. It's about a person occupying more seats than they paid for, I think.

Of course it takes a brave soul to actually take a seat on which someone else's coat has been placed. The way to do it, apparently, is to approach the seat and the person who took it and thank them for keeping it for you. That takes them by surprise. If you have trouble, get the hall attendants to help you. Probably will work better in Germany, given the legal situation. But you could try it elsewhere....

Rocking Messiah!

We don't often get to hear the Messiah in Vilnius - there is no tradition of Messiah and Christmas. Which is a shame. So having it a couple of days ago, in May, was a real treat. The performance was even more of a treat!

It was a concert in memory of Menuhin, who toured the world with the Messiah, the Lithuanian Chamber Orchestra, the Kaunas State Choir and the singer Benno Schollum, among others. 50 times they performed the piece in the 90s, when days were still dark in Lithuania. And now the days look slightly darkening again, what with the Government's handling of the economic crisis....But the ray of hope on the horizon is the new President, Ms Grybauskaite - though whether she has the power to change things is another question.

Anyway. This time it was the choir of the Bamberg Symphony Orchestra (why that one?) consisting of exactly 15 men and 15 women - that's what I call a balanced choir! The soloists, all young, were Jana Mamanova, Lucia Duchonova, Eric Stoklossa, and Wiard Withold, an extremely tall Dutch bass; the conductor was the choirmaster of the Bamberg Choir, Rolf Beck.

Last year, in my music course, I listened to about 9 interpretations of the introduction to the Messiah - they were all incredibly different, some lush, some punchy, some on 'original' instruments, some on modern instruments (in the case of strings that might mean instruments older than 'original' instruments). This performance was very punchy indeed, almost percussive in places. Very different from the Menuhin interpretation.  But it was sublime - there were moments of extreme pianissimo (where the choir sang a capella) followed by outbursts from the orchestra. The soloists were all wonderful; Withold had by far the best English diction. Some American friends said that they found it funny, seeing Germans sing it in English, when they (the Murricans) tended to sing it in German.  But English was what Handel wrote it in.

I had not appreciated before the sheer emotional power of the Messiah; that aria 'he was despised, rejected...' and that other aria where he is alone, looking around 'for someone to take pity on him' - that is really, really heartbreaking stuff. I should listen to it more often....

Funny moment with the Hallelujah. I could not remember whether in Lithuania it was traditional to stand during this chorus; as it approached my tension was rising. It seems not. When it started I saw half a dozen people stand in the rear of the hall (at least two of them Lithuanian Americans), so I stood up, in the front of the hall. Whereupon the people from the 'celebrity row' followed, and in a whoosh, the rest of the hall. It slightly fell apart afterwards because a number of people applauded, but never mind. At the end the performers got a standing ovation; they launched into an encore, we sat down, it was the Hallelujah chorus again, we shot out of our seats.

Looks like a result!

It seems, on current opinion polls, that Dalia Grybauskaite, the current EU Budget Commissioner, may have won the presidential election in the first round of voting - the most recent estimate (19.00 hrs) was 67.5%, well over the 50% required to avoid a run-off.

One of her advantages, apart from being a superbly intelligent politician, is that she has been out of Lithuania for five years, and not involved in any of the shenanigans that have been going on in the last few years. She threw her hat into the ring in February, after the small riot over the Government's handling of the economic crisis (they are tightening everyone's belt, so no wonder that the economy is shrinking fast).

She had to overcome some obstacles, though; over her sexual orientation - she is an unmarried woman and there have been rumours over exactly who she might prefer - she said that she was not a lesbian. Can you believe someone having to state that??

Then over her nationality - this blonde woman has a father with a Greek first name, Polikarpas (which is incidentally also the name of the chap who my road in Georgia was named after, Polikarpe Kakabadze - no doubt about links between Greece and Georgia, apart from the Salomes and Medeas of the Georgian world). Someone legally challenged her, and she had to place hers and her mother's birth certificates in the internet to prove that she is a true Lithuanian. The question was never clarified whether the challenger was talking about ethnicity or citizenship....

But at last we may have a president who is not only untainted by scandal (if there were any, the Lithuanian media would find it), and one who has a pulse and a true close connection to the country, her absence in Europe notwithstanding. That was 5 years, not 50 years as in the case of Mr Adamkus, for all the good egg that he is.

Beethoven in miniature

Another day, another Vilnius festival concert. At the same time the European Festivals Association is having its conference in Vilnius, and so the fragrant Filharmonija Director, Ruta Prunskiene, was looking her best in a suitably Chinese-style outfit (and no doubt she was approaching exhaustion as well). 

This time it was Muza Rubackyte, the Lithuanian piano professor in Paris, a well-loved pianist in Lithuania, with the Shanghai Quartet plus Girdutis Jackaitis playing the second viola in the Beethoven 4th piano concerto. Where, I hear you ask, is the orchestra? There was none - it was a version for piano and string quintet!

That was interesting. I was wondering about the orchestration, were there no winds? According to wikipedia it contains a flute, oboes, clarinets, bassoons, horns, trumpets and timps. All that reduced to 5 strings?  Must have been some job transcribing that, although often instruments were doubled in Beethoven's time anyway. My main worry was about the thinness of the violins; they sounded like mice squeaking away over the other instruments - but it could be with me sitting on the balcony on top of them, that the sound could not get through the balcony floor. I also felt that the strings and the piano had different interpretations; the strings were crisp and clean, whereas the piano was heavy on the pedal - and does the piece really start with an arpeggiated chord? The piano kind of washed over the much reduced forces. It was interesting to notice that the pianist was playing from a full score; maybe the absence of winds and timps did not give enough clues for the piece to be played from memory. The cadenza in the slow movement, I thought, ground to an unplanned halt at one moment, following an unexpected chord.  Quite a lot of people left after she had played - it is ever thus. They should have kept her till the end.

The second half was Penderecki's third string quintet 'An unwritten diary page' (2008) and Debussy's Quartet opus 10, written in 1893. Surprisingly, there was not much difference between the two; Penderecki was of course about 75 at least when he wrote his piece. Mellow old age? It had a lovely viola part, and the violist in the string quartet really has a wonderful sound. The Debussy was actually very nice; quite energetic, not like some of his simpering impressionist pieces - and the quartet played with great energy, enthusiasm and precision. Finally there were a couple of encores, arrangement of (Chinese?) folksongs, possibly written by the second violinist. Very simple arrangements for simple music, but very effective. To be honest, Chinese folksongs (if this is what they were) do not sound that different from other folksongs, certainly not like the sounds of Chinese opera. But then, whose folksongs do sound like opera?

It was a lovely concert. Before someone had tried to sell me a ticket for 100 LT (the concert must have been sold out); I got a slightly sarcastic comment when I refused saying I would buy one ('try then', he said), and I got a nice standing room ticket for 30 LT. There are steps people can sit on, so it's perfectly ok. In the second half there would have been real seats for me to move to, had I wanted to do so.

The North Ossetian, the red-eared orchestra, and the wonderful tuba

It occurred to me, during the interminable announcement before the London Symphony Orchestra's concert in Vilnius tonight (opening the Vilnius Festival), to wonder what a North Ossetian was doing in Lithuania, which so much loves Georgia (and vice versa).  Said North Ossetian, Valerij Gergiev (stress on the 'i', apparently) was the only international conductor to launch a concert in Tskhinvali, a month after much of it was laid to waste by Georgia.

That was that story. The red-eared orchestra? A number of ears sported red ear protectors, as probably they all should, especially when sitting in front of the brass, who had been moved around to the side of the opera theatre to improve the acoustics.  Do they need to be red? One of the second violinists had been wearing one, on the brass side, but still, his face was tripping him up for England at the end of the concert.

So the programme included the world premiere of Rodion Shchedrin's 'Lithuania saga', partly in memory of the battle of Gruenberg 600 years ago, whatever that was and whatever it was for. I'm not into history.  Before the concert, the audience's attention had been drawn to Mr Shchedrin, and his wife, the delightful assoluta Maya Pliseckaja, who, aged just over 80 or so, did the ballerina's bowing thing with her arms.  The piece...well, it kind of was. It did not seem to tell much of a story and in particular it was not going anywhere. Suddenly it stopped. Hmmm. Maybe so did the battle? Would hardly be celebrated in that case.

Then there was Stravinsky's symphony in three parts; typical rhythmic Stravinsky. I thought the orchestra was a bit tired (and it seems they have had daily concerts, with travel in between, for a week, so they probably really were tired).  There was no fire, no zing. For that to pay 50 LT for a standing ticket, during which time I could contemplate the distribution of shoe polish in the orchestra; clearly it had not reached the last row of the second violins....Perhaps my position in the hall did not help?

Anyway, stayed for the second half - it was Rakhmaninov's Slavonic Dances. There was a lovely viola solo, and some nice cello playing. It had a bit more zing.  By this time I had a seat, and could observer Gergiev's weird conducting style.  He does do a beat when needed (eg in the Stravinsky, and the way he was peering at the Shchedrin I thought it was not exactly under his skin), but otherwise his hand is like a skater doing his turns.

The orchestra finally came to life with the Montagues and the Capulets, in the first of two encores. There was some awesome pianissimo playing in the strings, stunning brass (especially the tuba, which had a brilliant sound), and some real energy (even though presumably the orchestra plays this a lot). Similarly the piece from the Love of 3 Oranges was very nice indeed. Shame they could not give it laldy in the first half.

The twelve-fingered pianist

Last concert of the National Symphony Orchestra's season last night, with the boss Juozas Domarkas conducting and Vestard Shimkus as the soloist in Brahms' second piano concerto.

Shimkus is but a young lad, aged 23 or 24, and a very talented young man, with a nice communicative personality. Apparently he had very much his own ideas about the Brahms, which caused some difficulties in the first rehearsal - the orchestra and conductor could not go into automatic drive, as they might have liked to have done. I wondered if the piece had any lyrical moments - there was not that much lyricism that came across. But he did play exquisitly and had some lovely interactions with the orchestra, where the first horn played the opening beautifully; this is not always guaranteed with the horn section in this orchestra.  He must be a 'product' of the Russian school; he does that thing with a handkerchief, cleaning the keyboard between every movement.  Only Russians do that.  His encores was a piece, seemingly for 12 fingers, which sounded like a variation on a folk song type thing (a Latvian folk song?).  It was astonishing! Then a bit of Bach and finally, to make a point, an arrangement of 'Guten Abend, gute Nacht'. He's great at interaction with the audience, which really helps to create a fan base.

The second half was Ravel and Ravel. First the Spanish Rhapsody, and then the Bolero - which allowed the orchestra's soloists and then some (saxophonists) to show off their skills. In the Rhapsody there were some iffy wind moments, and it could have done with more zing and panache; the Bolero was stunning - with the percussionist motoring on and on and on. I thought that he really must not think as he plays the same few bars over and over again. There was a very young cor anglais player who had me at the edge of my seat; he coped very well indeed and played some haunting solos.

It was a great ending to the Symphony Orchestra concert season (today there's a Filharmonija club picnic, and I'm missing another concert of Haydn; missed a trick there) - with an encore of the end of the Bolero and a standing ovation.

After the concert there was a wee reception, with the prime minister there. He's a surprisingly short guy (accompanied by some huge guy; his PPS?). I'm not that fond of his politics seeing the tax changes linked to his austerity budget cause me some austerity, too, but it was good to see that he did only a very tiny speech. Seems to be a sensible guy after all (and after doing some work researching the Lithuanian pensions system this week I can see that austerity is needed).

Street Music Day

I've never seen Vilnius so full of young people, on a sunny almost summer weekend, and a long one at that - usually Vilnius is dead on such occasions. It was brilliant!

The reason? It was the third street music day (first Saturday in May) where anyone who wanted to could take their instrument and perform outside. So, ok, there was a lot of amplified band music everywhere (I wondered about the band playing outside St Catherine's church just before an a capella choir started singing inside it), but there were also other little groups; a trio of girls playing the kanklas (a kind of zither), some folks from the countryside with violins and accordeons, a sad little family group who you could see performing, but who were drowned out by the band beside them. But it was really nice to see the town so busy - and I am sure, whether you see this as culture or not, that quite a lot of cash registers in town may have been quite busy. It would be nice if someone measured this increase in revenue, to prove the benefits of culture to the economy.

A near miss!

There I was at home, 18.34, after a slightly dull day (public holiday, town dead) planning to go clubbing later in the evening, and looking to see what else might be on yesterday, today, tomorrow....when I spotted a State Symphony Orchestra concert, starting at 19.00. Wow! Changed into concert clothes, including a new shirt (worried in case some pins were left in it) and shot off across the road to the Kongresu Rumai.

It was a fully romantic concert, Strauss (Richard), Bruch, and Berlioz - playing to a half-empty concert hall - what else would you expect on a sunny long weekend evening? The conductor was Adrian Brown, the soloist Sasha Rozhdestvensky, stated to be one of Russia's 'finest young violinists' whom Menuhin pronounced to be 'one of the most talented and gifted violinists of his generation'. Sometimes I worry about the number of violinists carrying similar Menuhin statements around with him; Menuhin was kind of a polite guy, but he must also have been aware of the weight these kind of statements carry. Père Rozhdestvensky is that famous conductor, Gennady of that ilk.

The State Symphony Orchestra has changed a bit - seems like ages since I was there.

The programme was really all a bit old-hat; cheap in terms of performance rights, I expect. Strauss' Till Eulenspiegel, quite nicely played, though the first violinist was really rather dodgy in every one of her solos. I haven't been to that orchestra's concerts for ages, so I don't know if she is now the permanent leader or not (the other one, Zbigniev Levickas, would have done it beautifully).

Young Sasha Rozhdestvensky is indeed a violinist with a very beautiful tone. I was a bit surprised that he played the Bruch concerto (which I have heard now for this fifth time this year, in Vilnius) from sheet music. Is that not something so basic, in terms of repertoire, that one should know it from memory? I am not sure about his interpretation, though. It was rather old-fashioned, with lots of portamento and rubato; the way it might have been played 100 years ago, but is probably not really played now. But it's the Russian way, perhaps. His encore was a simple Bach piece; played better than Maxim Rysanov's Bach 6 days earlier - quite good, really. I wonder, though, if no-one else has written any encores for violin solo?

At the interval I asked what the final piece would be.....it was Berlioz' Fantastic Symphony; one of my favourite pieces! And to think that I might have missed that! It was great! The orchestra did really well - the quiet places they played as quietly as I rarely heard them play; the percussion - the fabulous Pavelas Giunteris and colleagues - was awesome, eery, threatening, overwhelming, everything as required. The violas laid down a wonderful solo (the cellos were a bit lacking in feeling, but it's that leader) - it was a great performance! Brown came across as a very secure and reliable conductor - one who really beats a beat (many conductors don't) and he really brought out the best of the orchestra.

Some time after the concert, tried to do a bit more clubbing...went to the cellar of the Neringa Hotel which advertises itself as having famous Lithuanian singers (live, presumably). At around 11 pm it was fairly deserted; had a small party and some men on their own, including me; plus a DJ and some canned music.....Luckily it also had a book shelf, though the only English book within my reach was that on the Rachel Nickell murder, written by her husband for the mass market - not exactly cheery stuff. Left after I finished my beer. This is not great - at what time do these Lithuanians get out?

Irrepressible....

...and intensely irritating!  Algirdas Vizgirda, that is, the ego-trip that runs and conducts the chamber group Muzika Humana.  The benefit of the doubt has had to be invoked a couple of times in the writing of this review. Like, presumably he had to play his own solo at the beginning of the concert because that is more nerve-wracking, so he wanted to get it over with. Like, he played the upper part (ie first flute) in a Loeillet sonata, with his French guest Philippe Bernold, for two flutes because his flute lacked a b-foot. I think. Would not have thought that in the baroque era flutes were so sophisticated that they might have had b-feet, but what do I know. It felt rather rude to the visitor..... But was it really necessary to give an encore at the end of the first half, when there had only been two curtain calls? Might never have made it to the third.

So it was a concert of French music from baroque to Honegger (who was Swiss but spent much of his life in France).

The Loeillet sonata was all right; seemed definitely like first flute and second (accompaniment, there did not seem to be that much exchange and interaction between the two. A standard baroque piece with standard movements. Bernold is a very elegant, stylish player (he's French, you would not expect anything less).   The last movement was rather breathtakingly fast, but it was a gigue, and again that's quite to be expected.

This was followed by Rameau's suite 'Les Fêtes d'Hébé' whoever or whatever Hébé might be. It was nice, though I wondered what at the time had been the difference between folk and non-folk music. A series of dances, the way they composed at the time. I thought the violins played too 'goody-goody', with long bows, whereas the cellist got the tone much more right - there was some lovely debate between the upper strings and the cello (he really is a good man, a stalwart of the band).  There was a new oboist in the band, who played very nicely, too.

The first half ended with Leclair's C major concerto for oboe and orchestra, with the other stalwart, Robertas Beinaris, as the soloist. Young Robertas is showing no signs of fading away, on the contrary. As usual his performance was high-class, and the piece was interesting. But it really was not necessary to give an encore of the second movement!

I left after that; not much into later French music....

Socialising in Vilnius

I thought it was time to do some socialising, and get out of the house. So on Saturday night I decided to go clubbing - a first for me, to go on my own (though people always used to ask me 'who do you go to the Filharmonija with?').

Looked around websites and went to the 'L'amour' club, underneath the Siuolaikinis Menos Centras. It was supposed to be a good place.... Arrived just before 10 pm (entry fees payable after 10), and found in it a birthday party and two elderly couples who left shortly afterwards (when one of the guys went to the loo, my immediate thought was 'prostrate trouble'...).  There was also a group of 3 girls.

So there I was, on my own, nursing a beer until 11 pm. By which time the couples had left, the birthday party had gone behind a curtain, a group of 5 lads had arrived as well as a youngish couple, who danced on their own. Dead? Like a dodo....

Went to look for somewhere else to go. Passed the waterworld strip club. The heavy at the door lounged towards me and told me all about the beautiful ladies inside. I was mildly tempted, but did not go in. He would not let me go without pressing the club's business card in my hand, for next time!

Finally holed up at the Savas Kampas, a pub in Vokieciu which is busy every time I pass it. And it was, too....had another beer (or two) at the bar. A Scottish guy bought some drinks, said he was from Glasgow, as in 'Glasgow Rangers'. Boy, you have no idea how much information you gave me with those two words!

The next day I asked someone about more recommendable clubs; sadly, the only one he could come up with was Brodvejus (Broadway). Bit of a shame that it had a major fire a month or two ago and is closed for repair.....

Rococo Variations for .... Viola...

Summer must be coming on....last Saturday the Filharmonija was half-empty; usually a clear indicator for warmer weather.  (Yes, I know this review is very very late, but folks, I was a bit busy!). Tomorrow there is nothing special, some chamber music concert - Capital of Culture - oh, the shame!

It was a mixture of Lithuanian, Russian and French music, conducted by the delectable Modestas Pitrenas. I have to say he has to loosen up; he still sticks to the script far too faithfully, like a conscientious little boy - but he could let fly. But then this reviewer saw Mikkel Futtrup last night, and that may now forever colour his views.

The first piece, a Dramatic overture by Julius Gaidelis (who he? A Lithuanian composer who was born 100 years ago), was ok; very standard stuff for the heady days of 1966 when it was written (but then, 1968 had not yet happened, the guy was almost sixty, and 1968 in the Paris meaning was a world away; here it was probably more like the Czech meaning).  Nothing much to set the heather alight; usual structure, fast(ish), slow, fast, with the trumpet theme at the beginning being really quite rough.

This was followed by the Ukrainian VIOLA player Maksim Rysanov playing his transcription of the Tchaikovsky 'Rococo Variations'.  The transcription worked actually very well - and came across well on his very dark viola (think foghorn). At the beginning I was not sure - the opening was a bit too light, with not enough commitment, I thought, but the last movement was stunning - totally virtuosic, with astonishing technique. Clearly he can play anything, and he is a solid East European performer. Alas, the Bach encore was also virtuosic - which a simple dance by Bach does not really require; it was too fast and the phrases were not recognizable. Shame, really. He'll just need to stick to the virtuosic repertoire, which on this showing he does wonderfully.

The second half, with Debussy's Iberia, was ok. I am not sure who had not got the Spanish thing about this music - was it Debussy or the conductor? It sounded very straight; every note in the right place, but lacked spirit.  The 'Sorcerer's Apprentice' was fuller of wow, and a good piece to end the concert on. Overall, though, apart from the Tchaikovsky, it was rather a straight and restrained concert.  'Tried hard', as people might say in school reports.

Extremist Mozart

I don't think I have ever been in a classical concert where the audience clapped along to the performers - but it happened last night in Vilnius!

It was an astonishing concert! Mikkel Futtrup, the Danish violinist, directed the St Christopher Chamber Orchestra in a concert of Mozart violin concertos (don't ask me which ones, I did not have a programme).  At one stage I thought they had played that rondo for violin and orchestra, because the audience applauded after one movement. But that was the pattern for the whole evening; applause every time he put the bow down. He encouraged it, and why not - if it takes such playing to get people into classical concerts (it was full of young people, standing room only), why not?

The performance was amazing. Futtrup played almost all the time; did not wait for the orchestra to play its introduction but played along with it the way the baroque concertos work. But what energy, what vitality! And what an interpretation!  Very idiosyncratic, not always sticking to Mozart's notes (he giggled audibly when one moment a passage's intonation fell victim to exuberance) or indeed to his rhythms, rubatoing all over the place, keeping the tension high all the time, and having a ball! As was the orchestra who were smiling all the time (quite apart from the audience!).  In the last concerto's middle movement it seemed he was flagging a bit, but the last movement's 'Don Giovanni' part was awesome.

It was a brilliant concert, and no-one who was there will ever listen to Mozart concertos played nicely in quite the same way. Here's a real personality who you might actually recognize in a recording; a rarity nowadays. I wondered how he might be on stage together with the almost as exuberant Daniel Hope; but there are few concertos written for two violins, apart from baroque concertos.

His encore was some well-known 'Gypsy' music, played among others, by a 'drunken man' - brilliant, brilliant stuff it was.  Look out for this performer!

And to think that I might not have gone (felt a bit lazy....)

An Indian fairytale

After getting two comments on 'Slumdog Millionaire', one ok, one devastating (too much violence), of course I had to go and see for myself.  I liked it!

So the story, as everyone knows, is about a young man who wins the Indian version of 'who wants to be a millionaire'. It's interesting because each question triggers some memory from his life, thus spinning together his biography. It might have been better not to run this link consecutively - that's a bit too much of a coincidence, but it's interesting, not least psychoanalytically.

Have to say that the bits about the violence, intercommunal, sexual, against children, what happens to that poor child in the orphanage, almost has documentary character in terms of what happens to poor children in India. Anyone who has read Rohinton Mistry's 'A fine balance' knows that. In addition I have spent the last fortnight assessing bids for donor funding for projects to reduce violence against children, worldwide, and some Indian bids were among them. Yes, the violence is awful, but it's what many poor children in India experience every day of their lives (and not only in India). And then there's the corruption....
  
The child actors were gorgeous, as were the others. Also enjoyed the bit of pure Bollywood at the end; I had expected more of that, but those mass dances tend to go more with festivities (from what little I know about Bollywood films), of which there were few, if any, in the film.

It was a bit funny having the Hindi (?) words subtitled into Lithuanian. Interesting that the word for 'I' - 'me' is the same word as in Georgian. Also liked the little Indianisms, 'computerji'.

I can see why it won those Oscars, what with the story line (a political win perhaps), the lovely children....

Lithuania's best-kept secret

(I am procrastinating from revision, hence a couple of late reviews).

10 days ago, in the music academy, we had the 70th birthday celebration of Lithuania's best clarinettist, Algirdas Budrys - seems like only yesterday that we celebrated his 65th in a long series of concerts at the Filharmonija. He's probably the oldest professor at the music academy who still performs, and he does it well.  He played, as well as a number of his present and former pupils, and grandpupils.

The concert began with his Grand Trio (Budrys, Petras Geniusas and David Geringas) playing two movements from Brahms' piano trio op. 114. Beautifully played, of course - I sat close to the cello (quite an achievement in the packed hall), and oh, Geringas' sound! He really is such a stunning cellist!  I was also contemplating his good looks - for a guy 9 years older than me he looks pretty damn good, a man at the peak of his life.

There were lots of performances; outstanding were also Budrys' students Rimvydas Savickas and Azuolas ('acorn' in English?) Paulauskas putting together a very nice performance of Krommer's concerto for two clarinets, making it completely their own.

But who were these people from the Kaunas end of clarinet playing? 4 teenage boys, Zilvinas Brazauskas, Ernestas Sidiskis, Antanas Makstutis and Andrius Polianskas made everyone smile with their fun, funky, highly spirited performance of D'Rivera's 'Contradora' - what talents, what choreography and how much fun they had - and we! There was a quite a bit of life, nay, a cornucopia of life (that sadly seems to disappear as people hit 25). We need to get that inoculated into the music academy, too. Similarly Dainius Karzenauskas, Dalius Pilikevicius, Eitvydas Gavutis, and Rimvydas Vilkas, saxophonists from the Kaunas faculty of the music academy produced a spirited and fun version of Wibernu's 'Afrika'. Ok, so these pieces were light music, but there's nothing wrong with that - they were in any case technically challenging, and again played with gusto!   Kaunas, get yourself known in the world! Your wind players are outstanding!

(And my readers' homework for today is memorizing all these Lithuanian names).

Bliss is...

...being in Georgia, with not much to do, and watching the Berlin Philharmonic via the internet. It worked, nearly for the whole concert (picked from the archive). If I can get that elsewhere in the world, this subscription will really be worth it.

It was a concert of works by Bernd Alois Zimmermann and Schumann, conducted by Heinz Holliger with Thomas Zehetmair as the violin soloist. I meant only to watch the Schumann, but hit the wrong button and got the whole concert. That was actually quite interesting, and I am glad I did. I don't think I had ever heard or seen Heinz Holliger, who, like Arthur Scargill, wears a weasel across his head, and seemed rather underdressed in his lounge suit. Holliger, to me, is more known as an oboist, with a bent towards contemporary music

Zimmermann, I had always thought, would be an avantgarde type of composer, but in fact he is very tonal. His Alagoana (Caprichos Brasilieros) had quite a few West Side Story type elements - did he filch from Bernstein? They might be a nice piece for the Simon Bolivar orchestra to play, lots of rhythms, tunes, percussion...a tiny bit long, though, for a piece at the beginning of a concert.  His violin concerto was awesome, also fairly traditional in structure and very technical. Zehetmair played it with such ease and panache!

Schumann always gets me here (points at heart). I'm not sure why this is - I feel quite sorry for him and the struggles he had, with his mental illness (bipolar disorder, some people say); and at the same time he expresses his aching love in his music for his Clara; someone worked out, in the 1960s, that Schumann had a code where alphabetic letters were expressed by notes, and then identified the word 'Clara' in many of his pieces. Zehetmair joined the orchestra for the Fantasy for violin and orchestra (op 131); it was beautiful!

And finally the first symphony, with hints towards his wonderful Konzertstück for 4 horns. Schumann must have really liked the sound of horns; in some way the use of bright brass in the 19th century was more of a French thing to do (Berlioz); maybe the Rhinelander Schumann was influenced by French music. Also a great performance (what else can you say about the Berlin Phil); Holliger was a tiny bit irritating - he's a very active conductor, with much body movement. I wondered if that came from being an oboist - oboists and clarinettists tend to sway about in a way that, say, brass players could not risk to do.  But it was a lovely, lovely concert, all the better for having it accessible in the furthest corners of the world.

Not a note out of place....

....at last night's concert for the SOS Talents foundation at the Filharmonija. It was a concert broadcast directly by Mezzo TV into 38 countries with, as they said, 16 million viewers. High-powered stuff, no? The first direct broadcast by Mezzo from Vilnius.

Our President, Mr Adamkus, is the patron of this foundation started by the Hungarian Michel Sogny in 2001. M Sogny is a pedagogue, composer and pianist, and also the Lithuanian honorary consul in Geneva. I have to say that the President looked like a man in pain; it's good that he will be able to put his slippers on and his feet up later this year, after the presidential election in May or so. The way he was standing, left shoulder much higher than the right one, no weight on the left leg, gives me two theories about his health. One is that of back pain, the other I won't discuss on a public website - suffice it to say that the only person I have seen standing exactly like this was suffering from a long-term degenerative disease. M le Président gave an introductory speech, translated into French by a poor interpreter who interrupted the President (I would have stopped, he wasn't having any of it), and then M Sogny gave another speech.

It seems SOS Talents is about sponsoring young pianists from the former Soviet Union and associated countries, most of whom follow the M Sogny school of piano playing, and many of whom have had masterclasses with him. So here we had pianists aged 10 to 19. The first half was entirely piano playing - I don't care that much for this, so I left that part after three out of four pianists. They all faithfully performed 6 Sogny etudes, all thankfully short, plus each played some other pieces. Listening to them all, especially the young ones, made me think of the Lang Lang biography I had read recently, especially when I read about the long lists of prizes some had won at competitions. Yes, they played nicely, and correctly, but the expression was not always there - the delightful Adam Szolokay (12) from Hungary played Bartok's Romanian Dances, beautifully, very beautifully indeed - but actually they need to be played roughly, like on a scratchy violin at a village dance. Two of the Lithuanians, taught by Justas Dvarionas, played pieces by grandpère Dvarionas, Balys of that ilk, in whose compositional abilities I have not much faith, though the one set of pieces I heard in this concert here had a bit more potential, with a Débussyan flavour.  Sogny's studies were, compositionally, not far removed from the 18th century in terms of tonality and structure - but then they were studies for educational purposes, not concert pieces.

In the second half the Lithuanian chamber orchestra joined them for the first movements of Beethoven's piano concertos Nos 1 and 3, and that Bach piano concerto (originally for harpsichord) that everyone knows. The Beethovens were, I'm afraid, rather hard - Beethoven has written lyrical bits in his music, but these did not come out, more so with the younger participant, Alexandra Masaleva (13) than Morta Grigaliunaite (17). Did not help that the orchestra had also not noticed the lyrical moments - but perhaps they were trying to match the soloists. Tedo Diakonidze from Georgia (16) was something else, though. Bach does not really do lyrical, but Diakonidze still exposed different colours and played a beautiful second movement. He was also by far the best-mannered of all the participants, remembering to thank the orchestra leader after his performance. Lovely guy; I hope he will go far.

Delightful Bruckner

Bit of a posh do in the Filharmonija last night. The concert was sponsored by Statoil whose flag was placed outside the concert hall, and many ambassadors attended - the Austrian, Norwegian, Vatican, Japanese, and I think the Georgian ambassador, who, sitting in the row behind me, talked loudly during one of the pieces (which gives me a clue) until I glared at him. Otherwise the hall was far from full. In addition that American-Lithuanian businessman who only comes to concerts when they are a posh do. In concerts like these many invitations are given out, but a programme involving Bruckner and Shostakovich is not that attractive to non-music-lovers, so folk don't come. At least people did not applaud between movements, as often happens on such occasions, and most stayed for the second half. Given that at least two Ambassador's cars were there at the end of the concert, the motivation must have been the concert - there did not appear to be drinks after the concert.

But who was the announcer? Not the usual authoritative and delightful lady, but a slip of a girl, who talked well and audibly, but got a bit carried away with herself in the handing out of flowers to the soloist, making a little speech.

Do all the Norwegian upper string players come from the same Lego box? I'm just asking, because Arne Tellefsen, the violinist, looked like a miniature version of the viola player Lars Anders Tomter. Given that Tomter is easily 2m tall, this makes the miniature version about 1.70 - 1.80 tall; otherwise there was no difference in looks, though Tellefsen is probably a bit older.  He performed in Shostakovich's first violin concerto, with Thomas Rösner of Austria conducting the National Symphony Orchestra of Lithuania.

This is an awesome piece; long, with much complicated technique. The first movement, a nocturne, was a bit not going anywhere, fairly languid, not really telling a story (one would think that a nocturne would tell a bedtime story) - it seemed to lack tension a bit (I'm listening to Daniel Hope's more interesting recording of this movement).  The fireworks started in the second movement, and never stopped. Does the second movement involve a theme from the cello concerto? It seemed familiar. The second and fourth movements sounded typically Shostakovich, and quite Soviet. There is a long, looooong, and hair-raising, cadenza at the end of the third movement. Of these last three movements Tellefsen gave an awesome performance, with incredible energy. For the deserved encore he played Ole Bull's piece 'A mother's prayer'. Ole Bull is well-known to violin aficionados as a 19th century virtuoso (I thought he made fiddles, too, but I must be mistaken). The piece was a bit sentimental, but I suppose in the 19th century mothers had reason for prayer, what with the child death rate being what it was then.

I never thought that I would use the words 'delightful' and 'Bruckner' in the same sentence, but this is what it turned out to be. My heart had sunk at the prospect of Bruckner, but I thought that it would be good for me - and I am really glad I stayed! The first movement of this fourth symphony (the 'Romantic') could almost have been a ballet score; the third movement of which I knew the main theme was a very strict scherzo (bit unusual by that time) repeating the first part verbatim (the conductor turned back his pages.....), and had a lovely rural middle part. There were some lovely melodies; hints of Mahler (to come) with those Austrian trills; generally it was a very Austrian piece. I really must look at Bruckner more.... Don't know what Thomas Rösner had done to the orchestra; the French horns were outstanding, for once, the cellos sounded really lush, there were some lovely viola solos. It really was a great concert! (Sadly, the applause was tired - perhaps because the piece ends with a bit of a damp squib).

How to get a composer to write for viola

You take one composer, marry him and get him to produce a viola-playing off-spring. As is the case with the composer Juozas Juozapaitis and his son Jurgis. I first heard Jurgis a few years ago, attempting the Paganini Sonata per la gran viola.  It was a bit ambitious, bit of a struggle.

So I was surprised when only a short while later he ended up in the last seat of the Lithuanian chamber orchestra.

But I have now revised my opinion. Last night I heard him and an (unfortunately names not noted) clarinet player and a pianist at the music academy, playing Mozart, a piece by Dad, Francaix and Bruch. It was pretty damn good, for all of them - the clarinet player played very nicely too.  (We have a great viola and clarinet teachers in Lithuania).

Having heard the Mozart only from the outside (I had gone to the wrong building, and nearly was trapped in some concert by some singers, ye gads), I entered in time for the Juozapaitis (senior), who had written a very nice piece, too. In three movements, with a kind of a conversation between the viola and the clarinet; very listenable-to. It's worth putting this in the repertoire.

The Francaix was beautifully played, too - it's a rather over-long piece, but very nice, as is the Bruch. Overall the concert was rather long (and young Jurgis has another one on Monday!), but really, it was all very musically performed, with beautiful intonation and lovely expression. The boy will go far!

Two harrowing childhoods

These are two very different childhoods, but ones you would not wish on your worst enemy. I'm talking about Lang Lang (growing up as an only child in China) and Janice Galloway (whose older mother, during pregnancy, thought she was the menopause and the child was thus welcomed into the family), growing up in Saltcoats, Scotland.

In his autobiography, Lang Lang (born in about 1983) describes how parents in China invest all their hopes in their only child. He sure got to feel that! His father always wanted him to be Number One - in a country where at any one time, 50 million children learn to play the piano! Thus Dad devoted his life to making sure that his son became the Number One. This meant making his boy practice all the time. The father attended his lessons, later, at the Central music school in Beijing, the father spied on the lessons of other children to such a degree that the other teachers began to complain about him. At one stage the father, in his despair about the son's progress, held him over the balcony rail of their block of flats and wanted him to commit suicide; when that failed, he wanted the boy to take pills.....Once Lang Lang 'failed' as a pianist - he came only 7th in a competition.  If Lang Lang did not practice enough or make enough progress the father would not allow his mother, who in a distant part of China earned the money that kept them all afloat, and who was sorely missed by her son, to visit the child.

Life in China was always about competitions, winning the local one, the national one, an international competition....the family raked together enough money to send the boy and his family to Germany for a competition, then to Japan....Later Lang Lang got a place to study in the US. He arrived clutching a piece of paper listing the next competitions he wanted to enter. His teacher told him that this was not the way they do it there...so he knuckled down. When, after his US breakthrough, he wanted to play a concert in China with a major US orchestra, the Chinese authorities nearly refused him to come - on account of him having won no further competitions. At the press conference on arrival they asked, effectively 'so what exactly is it you have done in the US?'. 

Was it worth it all? Of course he now has all the trappings of a glittering life-style, and he has been able to side-line his father in the US, what with Dad's English being not so good. But he has also suffered from severe depressions..... a condition which he may have been able to overcome thanks to having to take an enforced break after a hand injury, when he suddenly realised there were other things to life than playing the piano.

It's harrowing stuff, well-written (by a ghost writer) and unputdownable.

Janice Galloway's life in Saltcoats, on the other hand, was quite different ('This is not about me', described as a memoir-cum-novel). An unexpected, and it seems, unwanted child born in the mid 1950's (her mother tells her at the age of 4 for the first time that she wishes she had not been born), she grows up with her mother, her abusive and drunk father (until that age) and a sister who is about 20 years older and a nasty piece of work. The mother flees from the marital home when Janice is 4 and finds shelter in the tiny attic of her doctor's surgery which she cleans in return. The attic is so small that when the bed is pulled out there is just a tiny bit of space for the mother to move around it. Then the sister returns from her broken-up marriage and joins them there.....(it never becomes clear what exactly has happened to the sister's son).  Later the father dies and the family returns to the family home, an 'architect-designed' council house.

I'm not sure what makes the sister tick. Is it sibling rivalry - for a 20-year-old? She seems to be totally selfish, and constantly bullies and trips up little Janice, who quickly learns to keep her head down. Keeping her head down seems to be the central theme of her life - living at the doctor's she has to be quiet when he has surgery, quiet when she accompanies her mother in her cleaning rounds, and quiet at home when her sister, Cora, sleeps. So when she starts school, she is good at being 'good' and quiet - and her world is totally rattled when in a gym lessons the children are told to run around and pretend to be an aeroplane, and to make a noise. She cannot deal with this and refuses to participate. Later her mother is called into the school and told that Janice seems to have some problems; the school suggests, among others, that Janice should see a psychologist - the mother refuses, angrily. Little Janice finds some solace in singing, which she and her mother do well, and in writing, especially in forming beautiful letters.

The book ends around the time she finishes primary school. For me it was very evocative, given that I know Saltcoats, West of Scotland culture and the language spoken there. I just wonder how many other children there grew and grow up like this (though in many cases now parents in her mother's situation might not care about their children being noisy or quiet or anything).

Breaking the back of Bruch

What the heck was the matter with the Lithuanian Academy of Music and Theatre today? There was the Malmö music academy orchestra, having travelled all the way from Sweden, and only the head of strings represented the music academy (in the first half). I mean, they are partners in the Erasmus programme, and some Lithuanians were in the orchestra, but neither the rector, nor the head of the senate, nor the Lithuanian music academy orchestra's conductor, nor a representative of the international department had the grace to support the guest orchestra. Not good enough - actually quite rude and shocking! (Apart from that the whole Lith music academy orchestra had received invitations, but of those also few attended).

So there they were, a big band, playing Körvitt, Bruch and Stenhammer. Tönu Körvitt's Passacaglia is so new, the ink is still wet. In terms of music, it was a fairly traditional piece. With a passacaglia, or a ciaconna for that matter, I expect to hear an 8-bar or so theme that goes round and round and round. I failed to spot that, but during this piece my mind rather wandered. It certainly covered a huge instrumental range.  

This was followed by the Bruch No 1 violin concerto (only the fourth hearing of it in Vilnius this year), with Vilhelmas Cepinskas as the soloist. He's a bit of a star performer in Lithuania, with a trend towards funkiness. Funky might work with Vivaldi's 'Four Seasons', but it does not really work with romantic music.  It was a rather strange performance, with extreme rubatos, rhythms which I doubt that Bruch wrote them, and the odd unusual sound here or there. Romantic music tends to be more prescriptive than Baroque music - I suspect Cepinskas did not follow the doctor's orders to the letter. The orchestra accompanied with enthusiasm!

Finally Stenhammer's second symphony. It's a folksy, pleasant, but rather long piece. Stenhammer seems to like dark sounds - three out of four movements were opened by the violas and cellos, who played beautifully (with two Lithuanian viola players, so they should!). The fourth movement was overlong, hurtling from one set of themes to another.  The orchestra played beautifully - not sure if they can do 'quiet', but they can certainly do 'loud' and 'enthusiastic'. Bags of energy.

Strange thing though - is it something that is in the Baltic sea? Neither their nor Lithuanian wind groups seem to be able to start all at the same moment.

Busk for the World

Here you can sign up to contribute to music projects in the world, by busking in the streets between 8 and 14 June and donating your collection to Musequality, an organisation supporting music projects for some of the poorest children in the world.  Seems a very worthwhile cause indeed!

Go for it!

Letting those artists into the UK

The Observer reports that a number of artists are starting a campaign to fight the visa clampdown by UK authorities, which requires artists from beyond the EU to be fingerprinted, and organisations inviting them to pay £400 or £1000 to become 'an official sponsor'. (UK authorities are always good at charging their citizens....).  The Russian pianist Grigory Sokolov, living in Italy, recently fell victim to this policy, since he did not have time to travel to Rome to be finger-printed.

The UK Border Agency states that 'all migrants, not just artists, seeking to come to the UK to work or study, except for the most highly skilled, will require a certificate of sponsorship'.  

I wonder who decides who is the 'most highly skilled'. Do people have to audition, or in the case of scientists, send a piece of their most recent research? What are the qualifications of those who decide, and how long does it take them to decide?  Imagine if an artists suddenly falls sick, the Royal Opera House searches right round the world to find someone to take the role - do they have to ask if the singer has visa clearance, too?  Would, eg, Anna Netrebko, a Russian, pass this test? (She probably would, I seem to remember she was given Austrian citizenship for her achievements).

A question of balance

Last night's concert at the Filharmonija was one in a cycle called 'Quartet and Piano', with the State Vilnius String Quartet and the New York-based pianist Andrius Zlabis, playing Shostakovich and Dvorak.

Shostakovich's quintet, op 57, was written in the summer of 1940 - at which time Russia was not at war. I had wondered about the period of its writing, because it seemed quite a subdued piece, apart from the middle movement, with three slow movements and two faster ones.  It has an interesting start, in which the cello plays above all the other instruments. The second movement is described as a fugue, though it seemed more canonical to me. To say that the string quartet played it rather understatedly is a bit of an over-statement.  It was very calm indeed, very very calm - apart from a blistering middle movement. It was so calm that it was often difficult to hear it over the piano. The first violin seemed to have trouble reaching the highest note, missing it every time (out of 3).  There was a moment when I was wondering how this quartet gets to have American tours all the time - though this may be partly due to the Lithuanian diaspora in the US.  But I liked the mournful second movement.

After the interval (I had also moved seats, but surely moving from the side of the small hall to the centre should not make such a difference) the string quartet seemed transformed. It did a lovely performance of the Dvorak op 81 quintet, now clearly audible, with beautiful viola lines. The cello suddenly developed a pulse - almost passion. Nice collaboration with the pianist. This was a very nice performance, though I wondered what the quartet thought about playing Dvorak. It's kind of an intellectual quartet that does not hesitate trying out all sorts of music, and Dvorak is at the edge of populism.  But the bread-and-butter repertoire puts the butter on the bread, I suppose.

Handel-Halvorsen Passacaglia for Violin and Viola

All is forgiven!

A packed Filharmonija tonight, for the concert of the Lithuanian Chamber Orchestra under its new artistic director and conductor Sergey Krilov. Even Mr Kevisas, the supremo of all things musical in Lithuania, was there - and the company Lindt was handing out chocolates (why?). No benefit to me, that, I don't like chocolate all that much.

The programming was Mozart, Mendelssohn and Mozart. When I listened to, and watched, the symphony No 15, I thought 'a conductor he ain't'. No sign of a beat. Ok, this Mozart-experienced orchestra does not need a beat, but I wondered how he and they might get on with a contemporary piece with complicated rhythms. I was also a bit puzzled when, before starting, he turned a page or two, as if he were looking at a tricky place, trying to remember it. In conducting Mozart? He just went with the tune....His right hand movements reminded me of my beloved dog Arran who would beg like that with her right front paw. But anyway. In the piece there could have been more contrasts, but it was ok.

This was followed by Mendelssohn's violin concerto. Again, I thought - everyone is playing it. And why does he need sheet music for a piece as well-known as this? Then they started. What was this? Was this Mendelssohn? In fact it was his violin concerto in d-minor, rather than the well-known e-minor concerto. Strange piece, with a very classical first movement (you'd never guess it was Mendelssohn), and rather strange second and third movements - though the third movement had at least a rondo format. Both had extended places of only solo fiddling, and other places where the soloist played like crazy but it could not be heard over the band. It was good to have heard it, but it's clear why it is not often played. Very virtuosic, I think, and well played. I liked the Rondo theme, which was quite hungarian and suitably roughly played.

Finally, yet again Mozart's Sinfonia Concertante. Ah well, it's the first time I've heard it this year (and it's only February!). They played very nicely, though I am not sure if they were entirely in emotional tune with each other, sort of slightly talking past each other; Krilov seemed to have more bite than Naidin, the viola soloist. Beautiful sound of both instruments, and clearly Krilov is a great violinist. They got excellent applause from the hall, and then...

...and then....

they gave an encore, of the Handel-Halvorsen passacaglia, one of my very favourite violin-viola duets (see a very talented but also very funny video above, with Clarence and Oliver playing it). Thank you, thank you, guys. It was just great! Possibly that of Elmar Oliveira and Paul Neubauer at the 2004 viola congress was even more risk-taking, but it was just great to hear the piece. Somehow I managed to start a standing ovation - I was behind and above the orchestra, I stood up and the whole audience shot up; normally it's creeping death from the back of the hall to the front. That was really well deserved.

Full forces

It seems that the Filharmonija is suffering quite a lot from the economic crisis, see my query here. Speaking to them last night they said that all they were doing now was accountancy work, finding ways of saving money everywhere.

Last night's concert, my first proper concert with the Lithuanian National Symphony Orchestra featured Povilas Jacunskas (cello) and the Latvian conductor Imants Resnis, together with Prokofiev and Mahler.

Jacunskas (about 25) is the great white hope of Lithuanian cello playing - I remember him from his school days, which was almost yesterday; though he seems to have aged more than the eight years since I first saw him. Last night he played Prokofiev's symphony-concerto in e minor. With gusto! It's probably not fair of me to be listening to Mischa Maisky playing it while I am writing this review.... Jacunskas played beautifully and expertly, getting himself round all those tricky corners with bravura. His intonation suffered at moments, and the lyrical theme in the second movement could have been more lyrical (but so could Maisky's), but otherwise it was all under control. In those pizzing places in the first movement, had his strings been those of a bow and arrows, the arrows would have shot through three fat men standing behind each other. How he managed not to break a string, I'll never know!  The audience was full of his fan club, friends, fellow students, colleagues from his orchestra (all to visibly absent in the second half), and it would have been nice to have had an encore.

In the second half we heard Mahler's first symphony, in the original version - which contains an extra movement. The orchestra must have died when they found that out! I've never heard the orchestra play as quietly as they did at the beginning of the movement - so they can do it! Unfortunately the oboe d'amore sounded rather flat in this rather exposed place which was a bit of a shame. The third (usually second) movement initially seemed to be lacking a bit of Viennese give and take, but then suddenly the conductor threw it in - and it was probably more wonderful for being so unexpected. During the interval I had heard a bassist practice the Frère Jacques theme and wondered 'what's there to practice in that?'. But seeing he played it as a soft solo, clearly there was everything to practice in that. It was a great performance (though afterwards I heard some mutterings from some other people, musicians at that....).

Orfeo Mark 3

I've reviewed this Vilnius Opera and Ballet theatre performance before (twice), the most relevant review being here. So just a few vignettes/comments.

Poor Amor, who had to do all his singing suspended in the air, at one moment crashed into the set. No harm done, it seemed. But I was confused. Only at the end, though, when the main characters took their bows. The singer for Amor was very tall indeed. 'Tis not unnatural in Lithuania, for men and for women. But, was it a guy or a gal? It seems it was a guy, Victoras Gerasimovas. But the part is a soprano part. It did not sound like a male voice at all, nor did it sound like it was sung at tenor pitch (leaving aside the fact how the poor lad was strung up during his entire singing, but that alone would not a soprano make). Very interesting!

Yaniv D'Or was still rather brighter as Orfeo than he should have been.

The conductor, near the end, walks on the stage and picks up Amor's arrow to conduct the rest of the opera with it. He clearly acted 'conducting' on the way back down, looking very happy. This was quite different from the scowl he shot during the performance at a little group playing on his right during the dance of the furies moment. If looks could have killed.....

Interesting to see what a small band they used. The pit was half empty; it was more a chamber orchestra group. As it probably should be.

What the heck is the matter with the FIlharmonija?

Call itself the Capital of Culture? It would make a cat laugh!

Strolled over to the Filharmonija tonight for the usual Saturday night concert, looking forward to hearing the delightful Philippe Graffin play whatever, with the even more delectable Robertas Servenikas conducting. Found the Filharmonija in darkness, totally deserted. Seems that the concert took place yesterday. Since when does the Lithuanian National Symphony Orchestra play on a Friday?

It's the third time in as many months that I walked over there on a Saturday and did not find a concert. Ok, once I was too late and did not get a ticket; another Saturday it was a Frank Zappa evening (definitely not with the LNSO).

In January the orchestra had two whole concerts at the Filharmonija; I would have expected four.  So one Saturday they played in Warsaw - could they not have done that another night of the week?  Muzika Humana, a usual Sunday standby every few weeks, isn't performing till March. Not good enough! 

I hear that the crash of the Lithuanian airline, flyLAL is having an impact on the year of culture, too. It's possible that they had some sponsorship arrangement, apart from the question of flightbookings. Not sure what financing the sponsorship arrangement was based on.

Meanwhile the North Korean Symphony Orchestra is repaying the gesture of the New York Philharmonic and travelling to the US for a return match. Some people wonder if the whole orchestra will return to North Korea. I would have thought that their standard is not soooo high that people would very easily get jobs in the US....

Forward Planning

It was good that at the Filharmonija last night the Brahms violin concerto was placed at the end of the concert, with two unknown works before the interval. Stops the audience from running away....

It was the Kaunas City Symphony Orchestra, under their conductor, the talented Modestas Pitrenas, with Pavel Berman, now living in Italy, as the soloist.

The programme, as often happens in the Filharmonija, was a bit of a mess, with the first two pieces played back to front, compared to the programme text. It was even more confusing since the piece by Alvydas Malcys, a living Lithuanian composer (and where was he?) 'Games according to MozART' had a distinctly South American sound - with South American rhythms and I could have sworn some bits of familiar South American melody as well. There were tiny hints of Mozartian motifs. The conductor could have brought out the rhythms more, and frankly, the winds, who had another motif, were a mess.

The confusion arose because the second composer was the Brazilian Villa Lobos, with his sinfonietta in the memory of Mozart, composed in 1916. This had no South American flavour whatsoever! It was an ok piece - though the cellos, who had a lovely solo at the end of the second movement, totally lacked confidence, and eventually were all together, but every start of this motif was made by one cello with the others joining hesitantly. Shame, that.

Finally Berman joined the band for Brahms' violin concerto, which I love.  He played this beautifully, and there we had also a lovely oboe solo in the second movement. The final movement was interesting - he played it very roughly, the way I like it (almost excessively roughly at the end, but with lots of spirit). Weird though that he always started the main motif (second note) with a down bow, where I would have expected an upbow - I could not look at this after the first hearing!
As an encore he gave some lovely polyphonic Bach, played beautifully and lightly, with little vibrato - the way I like my Bach. That was wonderful!

The Kaunas orchestra could do with some more polish, but I hope it will get there. Interesting how many women there were in the winds - and there was a female percussionist, too. This is not so usual in Lithuanian orchestras.

Made for oboe

Last night's concert at the Kongresu Rumu was the last in a series of a Christmas festival, organised by music academies in Vilnius, St Petersburg and Moscow, the Russian Embassy and funded by a variety of sponsors, including Russian and Lithuanian radio stations. I know this because Viktoras Gerulaitis, the announcer, told us this in Lithuanian and in Russian - lots of diplomats, including from Russia, presumably, were there. My heart sinks when Gerulaitis steps on the stage, seeing as he is rather garrulous, but this time he stuck strictly to the script - which in itself was rather long.

A half-empty concert hall then heard the Moscow-based chamber ensemble 'Hermitage' under Aleksey Utkin perform pieces by JC Bach, Britten, Bruch, Shostakovich and Piazzola. All pieces had been arranged by Utkin to be for oboe plus support - this arranging to suit soloists seems to be a characteristic of East European groups; Kremer does it in his Kremerata Baltica (though not necessarily himself) as does Bashmet with his group.  I suppose arranging pieces gets round copyright law, too, at least for the arrangers.   The group was young, and consisted of 7 women, 2 men, Utkin and an unnamed female flautist. (Upper string players out east tend to be female.)  Utkin and the flautist (perhaps his wife??) both played golden instruments.

I was amazed by JC Bach's sinfonia concertante for oboe, violin and flute. This was an exciting performance, with nice modern bow strokes (not the usual East European indulgence of beautiful sounds), beautifully presented. The flute had a wonderful warm sound - don't think it has anything to do with it being golden.

The Britten pieces were interesting. I did not know any of them - there was a fantasy for oboe and strings, and two other pieces. They sounded very percussive, and very advanced for Britten, who I know more for his Peter Grimes, his Lachrymae for viola and the Simple Symphony.  The last of these, 'Vapsva' in Lithuanian, sounded more like the Britten I knew.

Bruch's 'Kol Nidrei' seems to be taken up by anyone who can play an instrument these days. Originally written for cello and small orchestra, it's in the standard repertoire for viola, and there is a violin version, too - plus an oboe version, it would appear. A piano took on the role of a harp. The group shot into this piece - I think it's a mournful piece, but the beginning was rather on the fast side. I'm not really sure about the oboe (and probably also the violin) playing this; the pitch is just too high and the sound too penetrating. Maybe a clarinet would be better, if it has to be played on a wind instrument. The ending of it, when they slowed down and Utkin created a much more melancholic sound, was beautiful, though. Some twat in the audience applauded as the last note was dying...  (The audience was not the usual concert-going crowd in any case - they applauded everywhere.)

The second half was more entertainment-like; some Shostakovich dances from a ballet score (but not Tea for Two) which I had not heard before. And finally some Piazzola pieces, which came across a bit boring. First they were all the pieces everyone knows, and secondly four of the five were rather mournful pieces (Ave Maria, Muerto del Angelo, Oblivion, and Adios Nonino) - the Libertango at the end was almost not like the one I recognized....

The encore was a piece by 'Josef Gaydn', as the Russians tend to say. A beautiful Rondo for oboe and strings.

The band played very beautifully indeed, and if this is the modern Russian approach to music, it's well worth exporting. Their versions of the classical pieces would support them well in Western Europe and the US. It was only that the programming was a bit mixed, but maybe that was needed for this kind of event and musically fairly illiterate audience. The lead cellist seemed to be a bit of a mainstay of the band - she was great. Utkin's oboe playing is superb; strangely he did not seem to have to do all that housekeeping that you see other oboists do, fiddling with bits of paper, or the mouthpiece - maybe he just has a better quality of oboe? 

They faked it!

You will remember the 'Air and Simple Gifts' played at the Presidential Inauguration by Yo Yo Ma, Izthak Perlman, Anthony McGill on clarinet, and Gabriela Montero, a product of the Venezuelan sistema? I was wondering how people would hear it.

Turns out that 'played' was not quite the right word to choose, see here. They had recorded it two days before, and finger-synched it.  It was too cold to really play, risk of broken strings and all that. This explains the earpieces they all wore. I did wonder if they had used cheaper instruments for this outdoor gig (seems they did).

Missed a good 'un

Coming back from a very nice dinner with friends, I passed St Catherine's church and saw people pouring out, including members of the choir 'Jauna Muzika'.

Seems they had put on a performance of Haydn's 'Creation' with the St Christopher Orchestra.

Damn! I missed it - just don't seem to have my finger on the pulse any more.

Making do....

What with the Lithuanian National Symphony Orchestra having to household its resources - no concerts on two consecutive Saturday nights (in the Capital of Culture??) - for 3 Bruch, 2 Mendelssohn and a Vieuxtemps violin concerto on Wednesday night, I just had to make do with the Digital Concert Hall, The Berlin Philharmonic, Bernard Haitink, and Mahler's 7th symphony.

This time I had the sound sorted out, and the symphony roared through my flat. Still need to find a way of linking the laptop to the TV - unfortunately that laptop which works better does not have an output slot....

How can one review an orchestra as perfect as this? The winds here are like a finely-tuned Porsche, whereas those of the Lithuanian National Symphony Orchestra are more like an old Soviet lorry which has difficulties in starting - as evidenced in Malov's wonderful performance of the Mendelssohn violin concerto.  Some of those solos, oh the trumpets, or the oboes - just brilliant!

Haitink is a fairly quiet conductor; I suppose he is not so young - and maybe it's nice for the orchestra not to have someone grimacing quite like Rattle.  I don't know the symphony well enough to review it in detail, but the way the themes and motifs moved round the orchestra - it was just brilliant! Next concert on Saturday (do they always do Saturdays? That might make it difficult to rush back in time from the Filharmonija, when they work).

I see I missed Zubin Mehta, Murray Perahia and Beethoven 4 - need to check the archives to find this.

Don Giovanni

Actually, it's a production that's about 5 years old, and it's beginning to show. It's lost about 20% of its performance instructions (doesn't anyone write them down?) which takes some of the fun out of it. I think I've watched it often enough now - about 5 or 6 times.

Some of the singers have changed. Leporello was originally sung by Vladimiras Prudnikovas, before his brief spell as a rather ill-fated culture minister. Now it's sung by Liudas Norvaisas, who has a very nice voice indeed - but he is missing a few performance instructions.

Sigute Stonyte, one of the original cast, continues to be great; with a nice voice, and very funny. There also one or two performance instructions were lost.

Kestutis Alcauskis, as the young companion of Donna Elvira, also has a beautiful voice, less nasal than that of his predecessor, but was lacking colour a bit. When a guy fiddles with his .... sword in a threatening kind of way, one would expect some steel in the voice, too.

Joana Gedmintaite, who is one of the younger stars of the opera house, sounded a bit very light and very bright.

Something funny about the orchestra, though. Although the conductor did his best (though does he have to grunt quite as much? it's not a tennis match!) the strings sounded rather dull, almost deadened. The violins have some wonderful lines in the overture, but I could hardly hear them over the winds - and I was sitting in the front row, almost on top of them. Maybe the sound carries better to seats further away.

The opera house was packed, though, and people enjoyed it. If you are not too fussy, and you like Mozart operas, you might as well go.

Russian success for Scottish Opera?

The Scotsman suggests here that the production of Lucia di Lammermoor, originally by Scottish Opera, but imported wholesale to the Mariinsky Theatre in St Petersburg, got a 15 minute standing ovation, due to the wonders of the Scottish Opera production.  Gergiev had seen it at the Edinburgh festival and insisted that the production should be immediately seen in St Pete's. So the costumes, sets and producers rushed over to Russia (across the steppes, the Scotsman suggests - there are no steppes between Scotland and St Pete's), but the singers and everyone were Russian.

Including Anna Netrebko, who returned after 6 months of maternity leave.

So who exactly was the standing ovation for, I ask myself.

Malov's video

Here's a video of the Heifetz competition winner, Sergey Malov (thanks, Ham); I seem to be unable to copy it into my blog.  Glad to see that he already has an agent.