• Mozart: Symphony No 35
• Mozart: Bassoon Concerto
• Michael Haydn: Bassoon Concertino
• Bonny at Morn
• Louise Ferrenc: Symphony No 3
• Conductor: Hitoshi Suzuki
• Leader: Marianne Sutton
• Soloist: Laurence Perkins

Mozart: Symphony No 35: the ‘Haffner’
Pre-dating the final famous trio of symphonies, the Haffner occupies a soft spot in my affections. In the hands of Maestro Suzuki, the outpouring of joy was infectious, from the ‘call to attention’ of the opening phrase. It’s worth noting that, since Suzuki conducted the concert throughout without a baton, the sound appeared to be moulded in his hands – as though creating an exquisite vase. I was struck, again, by his calm control of the tempi, particularly in the Menuetto – in a properly danceable rhythm. And he took the Presto full on; I sensed the orchestra relished rising to the challenge!

Mozart: Bassoon Concerto
Laurence Perkins, the outstanding bassoon virtuoso in this special afternoon concert, prefaced his performance with an introduction pointing out the heritage of the bassoon, fascinatingly, and noting that, in this early work by Mozart, we are treated to musical ideas that appear in some of his later, more ‘mature’ works (though Mozart appears astonishingly mature throughout his all too brief life), on what was the 250th anniversary of its composition. The huge range and dextrous agility of the bassoon were foregrounded through striking passage work and enviable breath control (speaking as an ex clarinettist – of limited ability!). The support from the orchestra in Suzuki’s hands was sensitive and restrained: the horns and string blend, like a feather pillow, being particularly memorable.

Michael Haydn: Bassoon Concertino; ‘Bonny at Morn’ trad. arr. Perkins
The second half was a fabulous voyage of discovery. Laurence Perkins returned to play Michael Haydn’s Bassoon Concertino. Though overshadowed by his elder brother, Joseph, this was a jewel of a work that deserves to be heard more often. Then Perkins’ arrangement of the Northumbrian tune ‘Bonny at Morn’, with string accompaniment, was moving and captured our hearts.

Louise Ferrenc: Symphony No 3
Louise Farrenc’s third symphony rounded off the concert – a new find for most of us. The woodwind were well balanced, while the string band rose to the challenge of the tricky motivic development admirably. There was engaged discussion in the foyer whether Farrenc was reminiscent of any other composer (for me, Mendelssohn). Opinion was divided. Clearly her voice is unique. Again, a voice we should hear more.

And all played out against the theatre’s cyclorama, beautifully lit in lavender and lilac: all a synaesthesic could desire!

Robin Stokoe

• Grieg, Four Norwegian Dances
• Rimsky-Korsakov, ‘The Snow Maiden Suite’
• Saint-Saëns, Danse Macabre
• Elgar, Enigma Variations
• Conductor, Hitoshi Suzuki
• Orchestra Leader: Marianne Sutton
• Narrator: Neil Howiantz

The Strode car park was full on a rose-skied afternoon. A constant movement of patrons streamed through the doors, many children among them. Taking our seats we were struck by the size of the orchestra, some new faces, and players wearing colourful jumpers instead of formal black. While we live in an age when music can literally be plucked from the ether, the packed house was testament to the magical aura of music played for us by excellent musicians.

For Grieg’s charming Norwegian Dances the MSO was quickly on song with the ‘halling’, the Norwegian folkdance. With a superb new First Violin in the hands of Marianne Sutton the strings seemed infused with new dedication and rich colour, as though they had themselves joined the dance. The more familiar second dance, melodic and again beautifully performed, highlighted the reedy oboe of Simon Naylor; then the talented woodwinds starred in the peppy third dance, joined by the brass but with strings sighing sweetly in the interlude. The fourth dance glided, and then fizzed, with strings and the hypnotic oboe again, counterpointed throughout with first class group playing and the delicacy of a flute solo! The orchestra seemed mischievously alive, error free, and already enjoying themselves.

To prelude the Rimsky-Korsakov fairy tale, a genial “host” appeared. Narrator Neil Howiantz advised us to discern – in the ‘Snow Maiden Suite’ – Nature interacting with mythical characters. Cool woodwind colours of Frost, for instance, contrast with the strings’ depiction of a mellow Spring; icicles are painted through piccolo and violins, while horns partner cellos to convey warmth. The ‘Dance of the Birds’ dazzled us, as he promised they would with chirping woodwinds and twittering strings, animated bassoon and clarinets.  The dramatic ‘Cortege’ evoked The Snow Maiden who, having fallen in love, must melt in a ray of sunshine: but in so doing, ends a long winter. Cue the marvellous percussion, booming into prominence, as the ‘Dance of the Tumblers’ celebrate and vivify the orchestra, thrilling listeners with their energy and joy.

Our last “European” stop was in Saint-Saëns’ France, though we might have been anywhere at this Hallowe’en time of year. In the “Dance of the Dead” the harp struck twelve to signal midnight, calling skeletons from their graves to dance for the Devil. And how brilliantly this was performed!! Even children in the audience recognised the eerie tune, as the newly confirmed Leader of the Orchestra tuned her violin down a half tone to achieve the unsettling sound of the diabolic instrument. Equally enjoyable was the xylophone imitating the skeletons’ bones as they danced, and the Judgement Day of the brass and wind instruments cautioning that death comes to paupers and princes alike. At length the oboe mimicked the cock’s crow, the arrival of dawn, the end of the revel.

I thought this might have been the slickest and finest ensemble playing I’ve heard from the MSO, though I hadn’t yet been treated to the excellence of the Elgar Enigma Variations, which concluded the concert.

Our narrator prefaced the puzzle. What might the “enigmatic” theme of this work have been? The enigma, Elgar once teasingly said, was the “nothingness” from which it came, which his wife had been so affected by. Toying with that opening refrain he gave us some of the most beautiful English orchestral work ever written. The MSO presented it back to us in like-beauty.

The exquisite opening theme indebted to his wife’s encouragement, the musical phrases which caught his friends’ moods and personalities in sketches, the memory of thunderstorms and sounds of a bulldog rambling down a river bank and shaking himself, were richly laid out for us by the MSO playing at the pinnacle of their craft. You could have heard that proverbial pin drop when Nimrod appeared. But something wondrous came with him. There was freshness, a professionalism, confidence and precision, in the MSO’s playing for this concert.  Patrons can truly look forward to Mozart in February.

Tania Hardie

• Mozart: The Magic Flute Overture
• Grieg: Piano Concerto: soloist: Vital Stahievitch;
• Nielsen: Symphony No. 1
• Conductor: Hitoshi Suzuki
• Piano Soloist: Vital Stahievitch

This was a nicely curated selection of works. Even the charming Mozart overture, written for his Viennese audience in 1791, sat companionably with the Scandinavian compositions from the second half of the nineteenth century when we think of Bergman’s excellent film of the opera.

The overture is introduced through its famous Masonic chords, everything in threes to delight the composer’s numerological fellow-Masons who knew what they signified. But the pacy, melodic, fantastical music was just the thing to inspire the orchestra to excellent ensemble playing right from the off. Hitoshi Suzuki’s tempo was delightful, giving the work all if its drama, its sense of atmosphere and fairy tale.

The focus for the evening was the much-loved Grieg Piano Concerto. It was bewildering to understand that the soloist, Vital Stahievitch, who flew in from Amsterdam for rehearsals only days before, learned this piece just to perform for the MSO concert. I say bewildering, because the performance was EXHILARATING.

Grieg’s concerto is often compared with Schumann’s in the same key, but Stahievitch’s delivery of the music expressed Rachmaninoff’s verdict that Grieg’s work was “the greatest ever written”. The electrifying opening chords, demanding instant audience attention, cascaded down the Steinway keys with smooth authority. Yet there was freshness, too. Each and every note had delicious clarity; every virtuosic passage had a steely strength behind it; and the lyricism never came at the expense of the dissonance and bitter-sweetness of the music. The adagio had such delicacy, the gorgeous melody caressed into being. Wonderful colours emerged in the exchanges with the strings, the horns and woodwind. In the final movement, we marvelled at the harmonious musical conversation between the soloist and orchestra, particularly the question-and-answer moments with the bassoon, the flute, the oboe and cellos. The audience was wowed, showing appreciation with a prolonged ovation and animated chatter which spilled across the interval at some length. We can hope Vital Stahievitch prolongs his relationship with the MSO, and hops on a flight from Amsterdam again soon.

The concluding piece was not widely known. Maestro Suzuki sought a show of hands from anyone in the audience who knew the Nielsen work, and numbers were small. The MSO’s programme notes explained that “not a bar could be by any other composer”; but an unfamiliar ear might detect wisps of Dvorak, rhythms reminiscent of Beethoven. The MSO must have been challenged by a piece less commonly performed, perhaps not in their usual repertoire. But the Danish composer’s symphony was delivered with vigour, shimmering colours, energy, and considerable feeling. It is easy to compliment the superb playing of the woodwinds, who never miss a step. But the violins were at their finest, too, and the brass flinty, while delicate passages from the darker strings, the violas and cellos, were a thrill. Thank you, MSO.

Deborah Losey

• Strauss: Suite for Winds
• Dvorak: Cello Concerto
• Brahms: Symphony No. 4
• Conductor: Hitoshi Suzuki
• Cello Soloist: Gerard Flotats

While BBC audiences journeyed to Malmo for the Eurovision Song Contest, patrons of the Strode Theatre and the MSO were suffused in a more mellow glow on this, the second night of the appearance of the Aurora Borealis across Somerset skies. The mood and beauty seemed to flow from astrosphere, to weather, to music.

The programme, of works written in the last two decades of the nineteenth century, was nicely conceived, capped by the beautiful cello concerto in the hands of an exceptional young talent.

A gossamer curtain lifted onto the 1884 Suite for 13 Winds, by a very young Richard Strauss. The oboe introduced the principal theme with bassoons and clarinets, opening into a lovely, lyrical melody, which was performed by some of the MSO’s finest players. This calm was soon shot through with moments of dissonance, the ensemble increasing in volume and texture, with delicate flute notes and rich horns, then clarinets, played with colour. A balmy summer evening seemed interrupted by a thunder storm; but we returned to the calm beauty of the early theme.  No work could better showcase the excellence of the MSO woodwinds.

The second piece, the Dvorak Cello Concerto, was sublime. With a confidence that belies his youthfulness, Gerard Flotats – whose performance was kindly supported by Making Music’s Philip and Dorothy Green Young Artists’ scheme – took the audience into an intensely shared experience. Dvorak’s work is full of light and shade, richness and delicacy, emotional longing and quiet philosophy. Flotats expressed the music’s emotional depth, but without a hint of romantic heavy-handedness. We listened to the interplay with the orchestra: a joyful partnership with the first fiddle, other strings, at times the beautiful flute, and principally of course with Hitoshi Suzuki.

The pleasure of the performance was in the way the cello became part of the wider conversation with each player. It was collaborative, and embracing. Yet, Flotats managed to show just how much command he has over the range and subtlety of the instrument.  I wondered if I were listening to a Stradivarius! – only to learn in the interval that it was, indeed, a “rather special instrument” from Francesco Rugeri, made in 1689.  It is in great hands. Flotats held the audience spellbound with the beauty, clarity and depth of its voice.

The recital rounded out magnificently with Brahms Symphony 4. The performance was disciplined, full of vivacity and energy, and yet (like the Cello Concerto) not too heart-worn-on-the-sleeve. I enjoyed it the better for this. An ambitious work, Suzuki drew complete commitment from the players. The horns called, the flute graced, the strings lifted us, and the timpani and brass swelled the colours as the piece unfolded into the final movement passacaglia.

And then, on such an evening, we were ready for the Northern Lights to perform again …

Deborah Losey

• Mozart: La Clemenza di Tito Overture
• Mozart: Clarinet Concerto
• Haydn: Il Mondo della Luna Overture
• Haydn: Symphony No. 94
• Conductor: Hitoshi Suzuki
• Clarinet Soloist: Lola Frisby Williams

This was a carefully curated concert, circling around the year 1791, Mozart’s love of the clarinet in his final months, and the mutual respect of the greatest composer of the time, Haydn.

The arresting opening statements of the Overture to La Clemenza di Tito contrasting with Mozart’s delicate phrases were handled with confidence. And the tricky passage work deftly handled by the excellent string band.Creative programming at its best: composed in his last months, Mozart shows us his love of the new kids on the block – clarinets – the obligato arias in the opera are still some of the most sensuous in all the repertoire.

In the Clarinet Concerto, composed just a month later, which thanks to basset clarinettist Stadler left us with Mozart’s last major composition, the string band provided an attentive ground to the soloist under the gossamer touch of maestro Hitoshi Suzuki. Lola Frisby Williams played with cool panache with an enviable tone: richness like melting Austrian chocolate. Her clarinet – a Yamaha Custom – a natural extension of her body, was used to great communicative effect, particularly in the first movement’s development. The Adagio was sublime. Surely only Mozart could imbue a movement in D major with such transcendence, longing and perfumed nostalgia: performed with calm poise. This movement still fills me with terror: iron lungs are needed for the breath control Mozart demands. No such issue here – before Lola then proceeded to add the sparkle to the carefree rondo – showing us how it should be done.

It was a treat to hear the Overture to Il Mondo della Luna: the exuberant buffo passages cleverly contrasting the E flat introspection representing the moon, darkness and sleep.

And so to Symphony 94 – the ‘Surprise’ – bringing us back to 1791. The first movement was taken at a relaxed canter: clearly everyone was having fun. The ‘surprise’ in the second movement was crisply delivered. I wonder whether Haydn’s tongue was in his cheek through playful key changes, and that chain of diminished sevenths over the closing tonic pedal. Maestro Suzuki found the dance throughout, to heart-warming effect – the Ländler came straight from Vienna!

All beautifully set against Strode Theatre’s cyclorama, bathed in a warm lilac glow. The next concert, on 11th May, comes highly recommended.

Robin Stokoe

• Rossini: Barber of Seville Overture
• Prokofiev: Peter and the Wolf
• Dukas: The Sorceror’s Apprentice
• Tchaikovsky: Swan Lake Suite
• Conductor: Hitoshi Suzuki
• Narrator: Caroline Blyth

If the mission of the MSO was to demonstrate that classical music is for everyone – of any age or inclination – their Family Concert was a resounding success. Children came with shining young faces, and a cache of snacks to sweeten the experience: but every listener was soon absorbed by the zing of Rossini, followed by the musical story of Peter and the Wolf.

Rossini was famously a foodie, a man who left us his favourite recipes and a flavour of his epicurean character. Undoubtedly he would have approved the MSO’s delivery of buttery rich lower strings, crisp woodwinds and a confection of airy violins to open the concert with the delightful ‘Barber’ Overture. But if younger patrons weren’t familiar with this opening piece, they set aside their Maltesers when narrator Caroline Blyth came to the microphone to tell us about Peter and his friends.

Strings sauntered confidently with the young hero into the meadows; the flute voiced Peter’s friend, the brave bird, with charm and spirit; the unfortunate duck spoke through the reedy oboe; a cat appeared with a sinuous clarinet; and grumpy grandfather sermonised via dazzling bassoon passages. The pinnacle was the grim threat of the wolf, growling through the horns. Children edged forward as the timpani warned of the hunters’ shots – yet, child Peter turns the tables on them all, to the delight of the young audience. Narrator Caroline Blyth held young listeners, their grandparents and everyone in between, in the palm of her hand. The playing was engaging, woodwinds always a special delight at the MSO, and a succession of talented orchestral soloists were themselves ready for the remaining programme, after interval and ice cream. The orchestra, well warmed up, expanded with a piccolo added, fuller horns and brass, a harp!
and a tuba.

For those old enough to have grown up on Disney’s Fantasia, where Mickey Mouse features as the sorcerer’s young protégé, it is a revelation from the programme notes that Dukas himself was inspired by a serious moral tale about the abuse of power, derived from Goethe. Hitoshi Suzuki and the MSO gave us less of the darkly disturbing, and more of the ‘scherzo’ nature of the piece. Humour rising to desperation, colour and chaos, the young apprentice loses control of the bucket-bearing broom he has spelled into action. The larger orchestra was upbeat and vibrant. Trumpets and horns gave us dynamic passages, with dissonance from the bassoons and woodwinds and the shrill sound of the piccolo adding drama. The orchestra fizzed with energy, violins doing their best work, and the cellos sounded better than ever. Strings, alternately mocking and melodious, were counterpointed by a slightly menacing brass. Audience and players were carried along together by the magic!

Despite the feast already enjoyed we listeners, like Oliver Twist, wanted more. And so a mood of calm and grace arrived, courtesy of Tchaikovsky, inviting us to take our seats for the ballet. The Suite of Swan Lake is so melodious and richly orchestrated that it easily survives being taken out of its context as ballet music. The delicate harp raised a gossamer curtain upon the scene, a misty lake. Violins transported us, with everyone on point together, the oboe floating effortlessly and exquisitely above. Its beauty counterpointed by harsher portents from the brass hinted at ominous scenes to come. The waltz set us whirling, the solo trumpet drawing the audience right in. Woodwinds skilfully braided together to convey the dance of the cygnets: then the beautiful pas de deux, the harp, violins, cellos putting the audience into a dream. A Hungarian dance, a Mazurka … and it was over!

This well-chosen programme cast love spells over an audience of all ages. And certainly, most of us will be back in the Spring.

Tia Hardie