Tag Archives: Stephen Hough

BBC SSO / Wigglesworth

City Halls, Glasgow

Although it was surely the presence of pianist Stephen Hough as soloist on Rachmaninov’s perennially popular Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini, alongside an invitation to subscribers to hear about the coming season, that attracted a such good house to the Candleriggs on Thursday evening, the rare performance of Stravinsky’s 1928 The Fairy’s Kiss that took up the second half of the concert was a particular delight.

A stellar example of the contrary character of the composer, the drama  of this Hans Christian Andersen-derived score might be a deal more subtle than Stravinsky’s earlier ballet music, but it is there nonetheless. Unusually for him, it does seem a little prolix, but the orchestration is as full of interest over its entire 45 minutes, and there was some especially fine playing here, particularly from the SSO winds.

Conductor Ryan Wigglesworth was clearly concerned with the arc of the whole suite, the four scenes having a quasi-symphonic structure, but there were one or two moments where the tempi wavered uncertainly. Stravinsky drew on songs and piano works by Tchaikovsky for his musical material and the work references his predecessor’s own distinctive orchestrations, but the final result, and particularly the dying fall of the last bars makes its own unique impression.

The programme had opened with a contemporary interpretation of the same writer in Hans Abrahamsen’s Three Fairy-Tale Pictures from ‘The Snow Queen’. Wigglesworth’s affiliation with the orchestra’s current Composer-in-Association produced a performance that made the most of the huge orchestra required, with singular ingredients like the four flutes all doubling on piccolos. There was something distinctly MacMillan-esque about the build-up of the work, and especially the use of brass and percussion – and Sir James was in the audience to hear it.

Characteristically, Stephen Hough brought a very thoughtful approach to the fireworks of Rachmaninov’s Paganini variations, and Wigglesworth – himself a pianist of course – was very much his ally in that. Here was an account of the work that lost none of its Romantic intensity but where as much space and attention was given to the less virtuosic music. There was marvellous cohesion in the variations of tempo and a wonderfully meaty mid-range sound from the orchestra.

It was the fine detail of the soloist’s playing that really sealed the deal, though, culminating in what was surely the least showbiz despatching of the witty final bars possible.

Keith Bruce

BBC SSO / Coelho

City Halls, Glasgow

Last-minute changes of conductor have become a regular occurrence these days, so Thursday’s replacement of the indisposed Tabita Berglund by Portuguese conductor Nuno Coelho registered as little more than a minor, necessary alteration. Coelho, a diminutive figure with a massive presence, made only one change to the programme – Dvorak’s Othello Overture for the advertised opener, Johan Svendsen’s Zorahayda. Otherwise, the advertised works by Rachmaninov and Sibelius remained in place.

Few will have regretted either substitution, for not only did Coelho demonstrate an instant rapport with the orchestra, but this particular Dvorak overture – the last of three he composed in the 1890s – provided the perfect vehicle. 

It’s a work crammed with subtleties of colour and emotional extremes, in this instance breathtaking from start to finish. Coelho’s insistence on a succulent warmth from the strings made for a captivating opening, a gorgeous hymn-like scene-setter beyond which the musical characterisations raged between the wistful and tender to forthright and menacing. 

It certainly set the bar high for Rachmaninov’s Piano Concerto No 2 and its chief protagonist, the now-knighted pianist Sir Stephen Hough. For two-thirds of the way it certainly didn’t disappoint. Hough played steady composure against surprise in the opening movement, a thoroughly comforting vision heightened by frequent pressing gestures that suddenly, like rocket boosts, upped the energy and fired the momentum. The slow movement was sublime, Coelho by then perfectly attuned to the pianist’s persuasive idiosyncrasies and moulding an alert and endearing response from the SSO.  

Things didn’t go so well in the finale, where Hough’s previous reliability gave way to moments of near panic as he seemed to wrestle with accuracy and tempo. Ever the professional, he pulled things together, with some mesmerising pianissimos that challenged the orchestra to follow suit, flashes of revelation where melodies and often underplayed countermelodies interacted mischievously, and a glorious finish that was, understandably, as defiant as it was resolute.

Coelho ended the programme with a wonderfully rugged, at times vividly rustic, performance of Sibelius’ Lemminkäinen Suite, each of its four constituent tone poems ravishingly sculpted, from the opulent bravado of Lemminkäinen and the Maidens to the triumphant sunburst of Lemminkäinen’s Return. Yet again the SSO responded with rhythmic brilliance and expressive warmth to Coelho’s ever-meaningful precision. And once again, the SSO found itself totally inspired by a conductor it never expected in the first place.

Ken Walton 

Recorded for future broadcast on BBC Radio 3 and BBC Sounds

BBC SSO/Chauhan/Hough

City Halls, Glasgow

At last, a streamed orchestral concert for this age of lockdown that I genuinely felt comfortable watching. 

There were several reasons. Unlike the main diet of BBC Proms relayed from a dark and cavernous Royal Albert Hall so far this year, this BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra programme, experienced via BBC Sounds, came from a cosier, brighter City Halls in Glasgow. Rather than detached emptiness, there was palpable warmth and intimacy. Slick and sensitive camera work helped.

As did the music – a luxuriant framework of string serenades by one George Walker (1922-2018, and the first black American to win a Pulitzer Prize for Music) and Richard Strauss respectively, embracing the clean-cut dexterity of Beethoven’s Piano Concerto No 2 and an impressively confident BBC commission by Scots composer Jay Capperauld.

Throw in the abundance of expressive warmth expressed by a reduced SSO under its new associate conductor Alpesh Chauhan (stepping in last minute for chief conductor Thomas Dausgaard), a helpful, to-the-point presentation style from Kate Molleson, and the spirit of inclusive congeniality was complete.

It was an important moment for New Cumnock-born Capperauld, fast emerging as an exciting new kid on the block. Circadian Refrains (172 Days Until Dawn) arises from his own experience of the past six months, referring to the number of days spent in personal lockdown. 

Circadian Refrains is, on the face of it, a straightforward musical representation of darkness into light, but within that, Capperauld’s intuitive grasp of the interplay of textures, his disciplined manipulation of essentially simple – therefore memorable – ideas, are what give this work its affecting sense of personality. 

This world premiere was enthralling from the offset, amorphous rumblings that gather ethereal substance through glassy string harmonics and woodwind flutters, before awakening horn fanfares (the one smidgeon of awkwardly written material) point the way to an inevitable knee-trembling climax, and swift subsidence to near nothing.

It was also a resounding success for Chauhan, whose intelligent, unmannered baton style was as instrumental in extracting the lush Barber-esque Romanticism from Walker’s Lyric for Strings, in accommodating soloist Stephen Hough’s intellectual assuredness in a springy but authoritative Beethoven Concerto, and in knitting together the passionate layers of Strauss’ Metamorphosen, in a mostly ravishing performance by the SSO strings.

Are we going to see much more of Coventry-based Chauhan this season than was originally intended, given the growing issue of getting overseas conductors into the country? On this evidence, that might be no bad thing.
Ken Walton