Sunday, 25 October 2009

Karabits sets Brussels stage alive with Shostakovich symphony

Kirill Karabits seemed to put every last drop of energy into conducting the final chords of Shostakovich’s sixth symphony, ending with a 180-degree turn to face the audience and revealing a smile that you sensed had been on his face throughout the work.

For me, the symphony was the highlight of last Friday’s concert (October 23), performed by the Orchestre National de Lille at the Bozar concert hall in Brussels. From the rich intensity of the lower strings in the opening largo through to the timpani acrobatics at the close, I was totally drawn in.

One of the least performed of Shostakovich’s 15 symphonies, the sixth is unusually made up of just three movements. The first movement lasts more than half the total duration and is followed by an allegro and a presto, which musicologist David Fanning has described as “a spectral scherzo” and “a manic gallop.”

Karabits, who studied conducting in his native Kiev and is now in his early 30s, was a guest conductor with the Orchestre National de Lille. His main position is as principal conductor of England’s Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra, where he has just started a four-year tenure. Given the number of engagements he seems to have lined up elsewhere as guest conductor, I’m optimistic that I’ll get another chance to see him conduct.

The rest of Friday’s concert was a contemporary piece, entitled Wailing, by Chinese composer Lu Wang, who was in Brussels to hear the performance, and Rachmaninov’s third piano concerto. The Chinese piece did little for me, and the concerto had brilliant moments – in fact the pianist Nikolai Demidenko was cheered back on stage for two encores - but the orchestra didn’t seem as at ease with this work as with the symphony. Luckily for me, my favourite part came last and so I left the concert hall with that uplifting feeling that comes when you have been transported away by music.

Thursday, 8 October 2009

Mozaik Artistik: Brightening up Brussels

Mosaic paving stones have sprung up all over Schaerbeek, the 1030 postcode area of Brussels where I live. In front of almost 100 homes in the area, one paving stone has been replaced by a colourful square of ceramic or glass pieces indicating that the house is part of “Art 1030 – Mozaik Artistik”.

The idea behind this event is that for two consecutive weekends these buildings, be they private homes, workshops or small museums, open their doors and allow the general public a glimpse of the lives and works of local painters, sculptors and other artists. Some of the spaces are workshops crammed with pots of paint and wooden frames, others are living rooms temporarily transformed into mini galleries.

Last weekend I discovered the museum of spontaneous art, the workshop of the late Geo de Vlamynck, known in Belgium for a large mosaic he designed for the Neptunium swimming pool, and a private home where several artists were displaying their wares, which included photography, jewellery and stone sculptures. This weekend I might visit the house on my street where I first saw one of the mosaic street tiles and wondered why it was there.

A full list of the places taking part in “Art 1030 – Mozaik Artistik” is in the catalogue, available online (click here) or as a hard copy at one of the centres organising the event, such as the Maison des Arts/Huis der Kunsten (Chaussée de Haecht 147 Haachtsesteenweg). One of the participating artists is Ingrid Schreyers, who created the mosaic tiles and who takes personalised orders if you fancy brightening up the street in front of your own home.

Thursday, 1 October 2009

Emerging from Words and Music

The final essay is almost complete, the finishing line in sight. For the last eight months I have been studying ‘Words and Music’ at the Open University and a whole new world has opened up to me. I’ve discovered German lieder, had the opportunity to study the importance of Wagner’s Tristan und Isolde and explored how John Milton used the biblical story of Samson and Delilah for his dramatic poem Samson Agonistes, which in turn was adapted by George Frideric Handel for his oratorio Samson.

Having both a literary and musical background, for me the joy of this course was its interdisciplinary nature, the opportunity to analyse how text and music work together and how they enhance or detract from each other. My favourite components of the course were those dealing with classical music, but the module covered everything from South Asian art songs to Broadway musicals. There were even short sections on The Beatles, rap artists (I can now recognise a couple of Eminem songs!) and Sicilian storytellers.

The course allowed me to look in more depth at some areas that I was already familiar with and discover others that were completely new to me. I reacquainted myself with literary theory, explored new ideas in musical theory, brushed up on reading texts critically and learnt how to listen more closely to music using a score. In short, I was reminded what a great intellectual stimulus academic study is and what a joy it is to be learning more about a topic that you’re passionate about.

So as I do my final checks before sending off my last essay, on Virginia Woolf’s short story The String Quartet and Franz Schubert’s Death and the Maiden string quartet, my mind is already wondering what to study next. A Masters in Music is one possibility. Decision time is mid-December, so I still have a few more weeks to think it over.

In the meantime, I hope to find more time to write about my “cultural excursions,” which have recently included a performance of Shakespeare’s Macbeth by the UK-based Cheek by Jowl theatre company - a world premiere in the Belgian town of Namur no less! - and a concert of New Orleans music by the Fondy Riverside Bullet Band. Macbeth has inspired composers to write music on the play’s subject, and the New Orleans music inspired a text about war, loss and celebration that was combined with the music for their recent performance: the links between words and music seem to be everywhere!