The Joy of The Sixteen in Bruges

© Mark Harrison

As Harry Christophers' vocal ensemble The Sixteen sang of the glory of man and of trumpets sounding, a sense of sheer joy rose up through my body. The voices rang out and filled the Concertgebouw Brugge concert hall in what was a truly wondrous experience.

The main work on last night's programme was Brahms' 'Ein deutsches Requiem', an unusual work perhaps for a group best known for its Renaissance and Baroque repertoire. But as Christophers has said, "Since Brahms had been so influenced by the Protestant Church music of the great German master of the early Baroque, Heinrich Schuetz, the Requiem seems to be perfect material for The Sixteen."

And in case you're wondering how a small vocal ensemble pulled off a masterpiece that usually demands a large choir and full orchestra, Brahms also wrote a scaled-down version with an arrangement for piano duet: it is this version that The Sixteen performed with pianists Christopher Glynn and John Reid.

One advantage of the version with piano duet is a more intense focus on the text, with the voices at no point being drowned out by an orchestra. The tone and texture of The Sixteen's voices underscored the meaning of the words and I had the sense that even if you hadn't understood the German text, or had a translation to hand, much of the meaning would have been understood simply through the musical interpretation.

The importance of singers understanding the text of a vocal score was recently highlighted by another conductor, Collegium Vocale Gent's Philippe Herreweghe. As part of a Herreweghe celebration this month, the Centre for Fine Arts in Brussels showed the documentary film "Collegium Vocale, 40 years of passion" as a prelude to a performance by the choir of Beethoven’s Missa solemnis. In the documentary, several Collegium Vocale singers emphasised how, for Herreweghe, the text was of primary importance. You had to use your head as well as your heart when singing with him, they said. Those words would seem to be equally applicable to Christophers and The Sixteen.

Lang Lang seduces Brussels

“The hottest artist on the classical music planet” is how the New York Times described Chinese pianist Lang Lang a few years ago; this week Brussels music-lovers got to find out why the 29 year-old is still seducing audiences.

© Felix Broede / DG

At a concert at the Bozar on Tuesday evening, Lang Lang worked his musical magic as he opened with Liszt’s piano concerto no. 1 and followed it with Chopin’s ‘Grande Polonaise’. He wooed the piano, coaxing it to produce the textures and tones that he desired, and the piano seemed so smitten by this attentive pianist that it submitted to his every wish. Sometimes his fingers stroked the keys tenderly, at others he struck them ferociously as he explored the score’s possibilities and pushed at the musical boundaries.

The excitement he generated through his playing was enhanced by his gestures. As he played a slow, reflective passage he threw a cheeky, lingering look at the audience as if to say, ‘Did you enjoy that? Did you hear how I beautifully I interpreted the passage? You did? Yes, I thought so’. And as he launched himself into a fast section with such exuberance and panache, you couldn’t help but be swept along with his almost child-like enthusiasm.

He’s a showman, there’s no two ways about it. But it’s on the right side of showmanship. Lang Lang avoids the pitfall of his performance being just a spectacle, all gesture; there’s plenty of substance too. The musical accomplishment is admirable, the execution a breath of fresh air. His cheeky smiles, raised eyebrows and glances at the audience were not gratuitous; they helped the listener follow the musical line, providing pointers to Lang Lang’s musical interpretation.

When Lang Lang is on the bill, the attention is always going to focus on him. And yet Tuesday’s concert also featured a world-class orchestra, the Royal Concertgebouw, which played as brilliantly as usual, and the British conductor, Daniel Harding, who in his mid-30s has already got a cv that many a conductor can only dream of.

It was always going to be tough to follow a first half featuring Lang Lang and orchestra by a second half with just the orchestra, but they pulled it off with a stirring performance of Beethoven’s symphony no. 3, better known as ‘Eroica’.

Whereas Harding had spent most of the first half of the concert hidden from my view by the piano lid, he completely captivated me in the second half as he directed the orchestra with his whole body, at times almost dancing as he followed the ebbs and flows of the score. By the end of the first movement, I wondered if he’d have the physical energy to continue for the rest of the symphony. Not since seeing Simon Rattle on the same stage have I been so mesmerised by a conductor; then again, in his late teens Harding was Rattle’s assistant at the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra.

Lang Lang and Harding, who have worked together on several occasions and are said to be good friends, both came across as musical personalities who had something to say about the music they were performing, who loved the music they were playing, and wanted to share that joy with the audience. The result was a truly uplifting musical experience.

KlaraFestival: September adventures

It’s back to school, back to work and back to a packed diary of cultural events. Just as suddenly as the concert halls and theatres of Brussels go very quiet in August (as most of the city disappears on holiday), come September there’s more to choose from than you could possibly have time for.

For classical music fans in Brussels, the first two weeks of September are dominated by the KlaraFestival, which takes its name from the classical music radio station Klara. This year the festival’s theme is ‘Imagine Paradise’ and, in the organisers’ words, moves “between hope and the imagination, between utopia and reality, between the beautiful and the horrific.”

As part of the festival, earlier this week I heard a mesmerising recital by cellist Steven Isserlis, with Denes Varjon on piano. Entitled Russian Utopia, the programme included Shostakovich’s Sonata for cello and piano in D minor and Scriabin’s Sonata for solo piano No. 5. The performances were exciting and energetic, be it Varjon playing the Scriabin with such panache that he literally jumped from the keyboard as he played the last chord or Isserlis emphasising the cheeky, almost sarcastic, moments of the Shostakovich with a wry smile of his own towards the audience. The engagement with the audience was maintained to the end, with final bows not only being taken by both players, but Isserlis also amusingly allowing his cello to take its own little bow.

This coming Sunday, the Brussels Philharmonic and the Flemish Radio Choir conducted by Sir Neville Mariner will be performing Britten’s War Requiem. The work, composed in 1962 to commemorate the bombing of Coventry by the German Luftwaffe 20 years earlier, has a score and text that “transcend historical circumstance and offer one of the most universal and poignant anti-war manifestos in the history of music,” according to the programme. Needless to say, this Sunday is the 10th anniversary of the September 11 attacks in the U.S.

Between now and the end of the festival on September 16, there’s at least one concert every day. Highlights range from the Akademie fuer alte Musik Berlin to Roger Norrington conducting the Mahler Chamber Orchestra. If you want something a little bit different though, then take a look at the final night’s line-up when a Brussels nightclub (Club Mirano) will open its doors to music from Bach to Glass played by DJs. The festival said it wanted to take "an adventurous approach" to classical music; no one could accuse it of failing to achieve that.

Antwerp’s MAS museum: making waves

Photograph by Jeroen Verrecht

Nothing quite prepared me for the ‘wow’ factor of the new MAS – Museum aan de Stroom (Musuem on the River) – in Antwerp. I’d seen plenty of photos and thought the stacked-tower design with its contrasting blocks of red sandstone and glass looked great, but the pictures didn’t convey any sense of what it would be like to be inside the 10-storey building.

As you go up the escalator from floor to floor, you feel how every level is twisted 90 degrees to form a giant spiral. Each time you go up a storey, you’re treated to one stunning view after another through the ultra-modern, wavy glass. When you get to the top, there’s a real treat in store: an open-air rooftop with a 360-degree panorama of the surrounding port and the city itself (an experience that can, incidentally, be enjoyed for free without an entrance ticket to the museum). There are even portholes in the glass safety barriers so that you can take the perfect photograph.

The museum has been built in Antwerp’s old harbour area and is supposed to herald a new era of development in this part of the city. I have to admit that before I visited the idea of ‘an area under development’ had made me think I’d be heading to a desolate part of town, probably in the middle of nowhere, where one stunning building would stand all on its own. In fact, the area is just a 10-minute walk from the city’s historic centre and the proximity to the water not only ties in with the maritime theme but also looks and feels good.

But what about the actual exhibits in the museum? All the publicity before the opening in May this year had gone on and on about how the museum would tell the story of Antwerp and its place in the world, but I couldn’t quite grasp what that really meant and what would actually be in the museum. My expectations dropped further when I learned that it would bring together former collections of the Ethnographic Museum, National Shipping Museum and Folklore Museum. I had images of a mish-mash of dull pieces that no longer had homes.

Far from it, it turned out. The sculptures from different religions, the scale models of old sailing ships and the oil paintings of Antwerp have instead all been given a new lease of life in this new environment. The curators have grouped the objects by theme (four themes over five floors) and included audio and video to help bring the exhibits to life and put them in context.  Next to old musical instruments there are buttons to press that make the sound of the bells or the flute you’re looking at; old paintings of Antwerp’s port hang from walls made of wooden crate strips to evoke the port atmosphere; the floor dedicated to the ‘World Port’ theme has the history of the maritime world running on a screen the length of the room; and as you leave the port-themed storey, you are encouraged to write a message and pop it in a bottle.

With a total of 460,000 items on display – and that’s not even taking into account the temporary exhibitions – you’re unlikely to get round the whole museum in one visit, but you can certainly pop your head into each floor and then focus on a couple of the themes in more detail. One downside for non-Dutch speakers is that a lot of the information is only in Dutch, but the introductory boards to each floor are in English as well as the national languages of Belgium. To get a taster, you can take an online tour at http://livetour.mas.be/uk/ . But don’t forget that photos and videos just don’t convey the wow factor. For that, you have to pay a visit in person.

Pina: All About Dance

Pina, the 3D film by Wim Wenders for the late choreographer Pina Bausch, is all about dance. Nothing surprising there, you might say. But the film really is about the visual beauty and physicality of dance and movement, not an intellectual reflection on dance. It is about the dance works created by Pina Bausch, not Pina Bausch the person.

Going into the cinema I had anticipated hearing a lot of the choreographer's own voice and listening to insights from dancers who had worked with the German choreographer. Don't get me wrong, the film includes archive footage of Bausch, but she doesn't say much in these clips, and it incorporates interviews with dancers who worked with Bausch at Tanztheater Wuppertal, but their comments reveal little.

Instead it really is the dance productions that take centre stage. Extracts from four of Bausch's works - Kontakthof, Le Sacre du printemps, Café Müller and Vollmond - dominate the film. Each is mesmerising and beautiful, enhanced by the 3D experience. For the film's 3D Supervisor François Garnier, using 3D was  ideal because dance is, by its very nature, movement in space. "3D has all the space, all the action, and all the movement to offer. The sense of physical sensation is much more powerful than any intellectual reflection," Garnier says on the Pina website.

The dance is left to speak for itself, creating a rich visual and sensory experience full of colour, movement and beauty. Viewers are left to make their own interpretations, rather than be guided by any voiceover or strong verbal narrative. The picture of Bausch that emerged for me was of a woman who expressed herself through gestures and movements, not lengthy discussions and debates. Her words to the dancers were few and far between, but the words she did utter were exactly what was needed to motivate, encourage and inspire them.

© NEUE ROAD MOVIES GmbH, photograph by Donata Wenders

The dancers are filmed both on stage and in outdoor locations in and around the German town of Wuppertal, which was Bausch's home and creative centre for 35 years until her sudden death in June 2009. As Tanztheater Wuppertal's long-time costume designer, Marion Cito, says, "I sometimes cannot believe that Pina Bausch is no longer here...One senses, however, that she lives on in her works." That is perhaps why it is so apt that it is the works that are at the centre of the film.

Toni Morrison gives Desdemona the voice Shakespeare never did

Last night I saw one of the first performances of the new theatre production ‘Desdemona’, directed by Peter Sellars with words by Nobel Prize winner Toni Morrison and music by award-winning Malian singer-songwriter Rokia Traoré.

My overall impressions of the production, which gives a voice to Desdemona, the wife of Othello in Shakespeare’s play, were simplicity, beauty, radiance and power. Not just the words, but also the music, the staging, the lighting, everything.

To give you a taster, here are the production's opening words:

My name is Desdemona.  The word, Desdemona, means misery.  It means ill fated.  It means doomed.  Perhaps my parents believed or imagined or knew my fortune at the moment of my birth. Perhaps being born a girl gave them all they needed to know of what my life would be like.  That it would be subject to the whims of my elders and the control of men.  Certainly that was the standard, no, the obligation of females in Venice in the fifteenth century.  Men made the rules; women followed them.  A step away was doom, indeed, and misery without relief.  My parents, keenly aware and approving of that system, could anticipate the future of a girl child accurately.
They were wrong.  They knew the system, but they did not know me.
I am not the meaning of a name I did not choose.

Desdemona is at the KVS theatre in Brussels until Sunday May 29. It will go on to be performed worldwide, including at the Barbican as part of the London 2012 festival during the Olympic Games. To read my published article about the genesis of the show and how it ended up being performed in Brussels, click here.

Kunstenfestivaldesarts: Mexican theatre tackles guerrilla warfare

We may only be halfway through Kunstenfestivaldesarts, an annual arts festival that takes place across Brussels, but I’m pretty sure I saw one of its overall highlights this last week: the Mexican documentary theatre piece El Rumor Del Incendio (The Sound Of Fire).

The play explores a period of Mexican history, the guerrilla movements that sprang up in the country during the 1960s and 1970s and the subsequent deaths, political prisoners and forced disappearances. The subject is approached through the life of one former guerrilla: historian and teacher Margarita Urias Hermosillo.

© Carlos Somonte

The three actors, all in their mid-twenties, bring the period to life in an intelligent and thought-provoking way. They incorporate into their performance archive audiovisual footage, old tapes being played on cassette recorder and documents and film clips projected onto a screen, all of which remind us that this theatre production is based on real events.

© Carlos Somonte

It’s not simply a history lesson though. There is a strong narrative that is brought out by strong performances from the actors, particularly Luisa Pardo playing the role of Margarita Urias Hermosillo. There’s also a playful element as they use toy soldiers and a children’s train set to re-enact historical scenes. And moments of brilliant production, for example when a lit match is thrown towards a large screen projecting an image of a forest that at that moment switches to an image of a forest bursting into flames.

The play’s relevance to today is also highlighted as the actors ask questions such as: can a critical look at the past change the future?; what battles were fought before we were born?; how can we build a better country?; are there other systems for running things?; and why is it so difficult to criticise the present system?

While acknowledging the differences between then and now, the theatre group says in its notes about the play that they feel as if they live in a country where people have become insensitive to inequality and are incapable of shaping political projects bearing hope. “We feel straitjacketed faced with the very widespread opinion that the world is shut for good and only one system of political, social and cultural organisation now exists. A system which proves moreover to be very difficult to criticise, even though we are brought face to face with its enormous flaws and its terrible drawbacks in our everyday lives,” the group writes.

The project, which comprises this documentary theatre piece as well as a blog and a book, is not a call to take up arms. Rather it is what the theatre group calls “an attempt to restore the idea of utopia and the possibility of creating new thinking, making it possible for us to imagine fairer worlds.”

© Carlos Somonte

The Brussels shows are the first time that the theatre group, ‘Lagartijas tiradas al sol’ (‘Lizards stretching in the sun’), has performed in Europe. It won’t be the actors' last though. A list of other cities where they will be performing this year can be found on the theatre group’s website.

Vengerov to Make Comeback in Brussels: Relationship With Violin Back On

Maxim Vengerov broke off his relationship with his violin three years ago. “I needed these three years to put down the violin, to rest a little bit, to cool down,” Vengerov said in a recent interview with Radio Télévision Belge Francophone (RTBF). Now he’s decided it’s time to resume the love affair, and he’s chosen the Bozar in Brussels as the place to make that comeback on May 2.

Vengerov has spent the last three years concentrating on conducting. “If I would combine it with my violin playing, violin playing would be very jealous,” the Russian told RTBF. “I am incredibly happy that the time came again that I can rejoice with my beautiful violin.”

The music chosen to relaunch his performing career is the cycle of three violin sonatas by Johannes Brahms. “The cycle...is in itself perfection,” according to Vengerov, who will only play during the first half of the concert.

The concert's context is a new Musica Mundi project to develop a school for musical excellence, for which Vengerov is acting as an ambassador. Consequently, the second half will be performed by Musica Mundi Young Talents and the Belorussian Youth Orchestra, conducted by Vladimir Perlin.

However, the concert will not be a one-off for Vengerov, who told RTBF that he planned to do a tour with the Brahms sonatas and then take Rimsky-Korsakov’s Sheherazade on tour worldwide, combining violin-playing and conducting.

And what about the violin’s jealousy of the conducting, the interviewer asked. “Now it’s all in harmony,” he laughed. Having experienced the violin concertos from the orchestral side, Vengerov feels he has a more complete experience of the works.

“Having this wonderful three-year rest from the violin, I feel reborn,” Vengerov said in the RTBF interview. “When people ask me, Maxim, who do you think now is the most promising young violinist in the world, I say I think it’s me! ... For me, every note that I play now is a revelation, a new thing.”

Mikrokosmos - Rosas at the Kaaitheater

Dance and music have to be two of my favourite artistic disciplines. Make that contemporary dance and a string quartet playing live and it doesn’t get much better. Last night I was treated to such a combination with the performance of Mikrokosmos.

Mikrokosmos is one of choreographer Anne Teresa de Keersmaeker’s early works (created in 1987) and is a performance that starts with a couple dancing to music for two pianos by Bartok and concludes with four women dancing to Bartok’s String Quartet No. 4. The striking rhythms and energy of both the music and the dance complement each other perfectly, making the overall performance one fizzing with excitement, and with several cheeky touches thrown in for good measure

The creation is part of Early Works, a project made up of four pieces choreographed by De Keersmaeker in the 1980s and being shown at Brussels’ Kaaitheater over a three-week period. Early Works will next be shown at Sadler’s Wells, from 10-16 April.

Having the music played live is simply wonderful. It is no longer the background sound to which the dancers move but an integral part of the work, with the musicians on stage, their entries and exits choreographed, and the dancers including them as part of the piece, either by dancing right up to them or by looking across at them as part of their choreographed movement. The Bartok string quartet was played by the UK’s Duke Quartet, which has been working with De Keersmaeker and her Rosas dance company for many years.

For more about string music and dance, click here to read my article ‘All The Right Moves’ for The Strad magazine. The interview with De Keersmaeker below (nothing to do with me) is also worth listening to.

Where did all the music come from?

Weeks can go by when there isn’t a single classical music concert that really grabs my attention. Then suddenly there are so many that difficult choices have to be made. March is going to be one of those months. There are top orchestras, big names, great music, and sometimes a combination of all three, on offer.

The choice at the Bozar in Brussels this week includes the world-renowned Budapest Festival Orchestra, which is acting as a cultural flagship during Hungary’s EU presidency. For a different Hungarian flavour, there’s also an evening of Liszt’s music and words focusing on his musical settings of poets as well as his own writing.

Another name to jump out of the March offerings is Russian violinist Vadim Repin, who in 1989 became the youngest-ever winner of the Queen Elisabeth Competition in Brussels. He’s playing Sibelius’s violin concerto this Friday and then Grieg, Elgar and Franck sonatas later in the month.

Always keen to hear chamber music, I noticed that there are two well-known quartets playing in Belgium this month: the Pavel Haas quartet in Ghent and the Hagen Quartett in Brussels.

And this selection doesn’t even include the Bozar gala concerts, whose programmes always have big musical names. The March concert boasts Antonio Pappano conducting the Orchestra dell' Accademia Nazionale di Santa Cecilia in Mahler’s Symphony No. 1 and Boris Berezovsky playing Liszt’s concerto for piano and orchestra No. 1. The only downside to this series is the number of “VIPs” who are there as much for the networking as the music (cue more chatter, coughing and mobile phones than usual).

While the Bozar is the venue for a large proportion of the classical music concerts in Brussels, there are of course other places and a good selection can be found here. That said, when there’s a bumper crop of offerings like there is in March, the incentive to go hunting elsewhere is limited.

Only When I Dance: Rio Teenagers Pursue Their Dreams

Only when I dance is a documentary that follows two teenagers from rough, working class areas of Rio de Janiero striving to attain their dream of becoming professional ballet dancers - unsurprisingly it has been dubbed the Brazilian Billy Elliot. I enjoyed Billy Elliot; I loved Only when I dance.

The key to the film’s appeal lies in its two stars, 18 year-old Irlan Santos da Silva and 17 year-old Isabela Coracy. Director Beadie Finzi chose to follow these two dancers not because she could somehow tell where their lives were going to lead, but because of their personalities. 

Speaking in Brussels yesterday evening, Finzi explained how she was immediately drawn to these two particular dancers and could tell from their body language that it was going to work well. True, Finzi knew these two had a lot of potential to succeed in the world of dance, but so did other students. She chose Irlan and Isabela because she could sense their magnetism and warmth - worthwhile characteristics not just for the film, but also because Finzi and her crew were going to spend a year, on and off, with the two dancers and their families, filming the ups and downs of their lives.

Both dancers attended the Centro de Dança Rio, a school set up by former Brazilian ballerina Mariza Estrella in order to give the next generation a chance to succeed in a city where too many young people succumb to the easy temptation of drugs and crime. Mariza acts as the link between the poor neighbourhoods of Rio and the bright lights of New York and other western cities where the young dancers dream of working.

On the one hand the stories of Irlan, who lived with his family in Rio de Janiero’s most violent favela, the Complexo do Alemão, and Isabela, from a poor neighbourhood on the outskirts of Rio, are a million miles away from those of us watching the film yesterday in Brussels. That was part of the documentary’s appeal, an insight into another world, another way of living.

Yet for all the differences, the story had universal appeal because it was a tale of two children striving to realise their dreams and their parents doing everything within their means to help them. The human emotions, real warmth and sense of truth in the film were what made it. It was impossible not to be moved by the film. And because it was a film about real people and real lives, it was all the more compelling.

Of course a documentary chooses to include only certain elements of the characters’ lives and leave out others, to follow one particular narrative more closely and leave another undeveloped. These are the essential choices made during production in order to condense the real lives of two families filmed over a year into a work lasting less than an hour and a half. I accept that a documentary uses techniques that you find in a fictional film, but for me there’s something about the truth and the reality of a documentary that I find irresistible and inspiring. Only when I dance certainly fell into that category.

The Brussels screening of Only when I dance was organised by the United Nations Regional Information Centre for Western Europe.

Hungarian National Orchestra Takes on Liszt and Bartok Under Kocsis’s Baton

Hungarian music, art and culture seem to be everywhere you look in Brussels at the moment as arts organisers make the most of Hungary chairing the EU presidency for the first half of 2011.

My first taste of the classical music offerings will be tomorrow evening (Jan. 26) with the Hungarian National Orchestra playing Liszt’s Hungarian Coronation Mass and Bartok’s Concerto for orchestra. Speaking at a press conference in Brussels today, conductor Zoltan Kocsis said that he had chosen these two particular Hungarian composers because Liszt is generally considered a Romantic composer and Bartok a radical modernist. And yet, to Kocsis’s mind, the opposite is almost the case as Liszt broke new ground and Bartok’s music includes many “classical phenomenons”.

Kocsis went on to describe the inventive and fantastic way in which Liszt brought Hungarian rhythm and religious music together in the Coronation Mass and how, in general, Liszt is a much more important composer than he is often given credit for. “Liszt is definitely a first-rate composer,” Kocsis said.

As for Bartok’s Concerto for orchestra, Kocsis highlighted two interesting features in the five-movement symphony, firstly the play between pairs and later trios of instruments, and then the homesickness of Bartok’s exile in the US evoked in the third and later movements. “You can hear how he desired to back to Hungary, which he wasn’t able to do,” Kocsis said.

An inspiring introduction by the conductor. Can’t wait to hear his orchestra.

Kicking off 2011 with Chinese Culture

Happy New Year. 

2011 got off to a great start as I was on tour in China with the Bruocsella Symphony Orchestra. As well as performing concerts in Shanghai and towns in the surrounding provinces (Yixing, Jiaxing, Nanjing and Suzhou), we also had plenty of time for sightseeing. 

The cultural highlights for me were the Suzhou Museum (built by architect I. M. Pei), the Shanghai Museum and Shanghai’s Moganshan Arts District. The buildings were amazing in themselves and the exhibits/artworks had me spellbound, in particular the bronzes, ceramics and jade carvings.

I hope to have an article or two published in the coming months based on my trip – as soon as that hope becomes reality, I’ll post the links on this blog. In the meantime, you can always read published articles about my trip to China last year by clicking here (The Independent) and here (The Bulletin).

Here’s wishing you a year full of inspiring cultural discoveries.