Music to my ears
What the classical world has been listening to this month
Mark Williams Conductor & organist
I recently went to a student recital where I heard Poulenc’s Oboe Sonata. As well as reminding me that I used to play Poulenc’s Flute Sonata myself, it also had me returning to an opera that I had an obsession with as a student: his Dialogues of the Carmelites, with that remarkable final scene with the guillotine and the ‘Salve Regina’. Poulenc’s harmonies are just extraordinary, and whenever you hear his music, you know it simply couldn’t be by anyone else.
With this being Franck’s bicentenary year, a couple of fellow organists and I have been working out plans for a recital series in Oxford later in the year. Listening to his organ works reminded me, as with Poulenc, of his rich harmonic language. I have also been enjoying his Symphony in D minor, which sometimes gets a bit of a bad press for sounding like a symphony that, with its big brass surges and all, has been orchestrated by an organist. But perhaps that’s what so appeals to me! I think it’s beautiful.
As well as reading Kate Kennedy’s biography of Ivor Gurney, I’ve been listening to a lot of English song. Maybe it’s partly down to the feelings of uncertainty that we are currently living with, but so much of the character of English song seems to be defined by a certain melancholy. If you were to ask me to name a typical example, I’d suggest Gurney’s ‘Sleep’ or Butterworth’s A Shropshire Lad settings which, like so many, display this sadness that represents the horror of war.
And also…
There’s a fantastic shop in Oxford where you can get just about every spice in the world, so I’ve been trying out some new curry recipes! Making curries is a bit like playing the organ. Just as you spend time mixing different stops and thinking about combinations of colours and sounds, likewise it’s just as fun to experiment with different spices in a curry.
Mark Williams conducts the Choir of Magdalen College, Oxford on ‘The Sweet and Merry Month’ on the Opus Arte label
Eri Nakamura Soprano
My parents never allowed me to touch our LP player, so it was a sensation when I got my own CD player and could play whatever I wanted (for some reason, I didn’t want to listen to classical music on cassette tapes). Aged 11 or 12, Karajan’s recording of Tchaikovsky’s Nutcracker and Sleeping Beauty suites was the first CD that I bought by myself. I listened to the Sleeping Beauty overture so many times, and it made me cry when I heard it being played in the Royal Ballet rehearsal room during my first days as a member of the Jette Parker Young Artist Programme.
When I get home after a long opera rehearsal, I prefer not to listen to any vocal pieces – not even pop music. Instead, JS Bach’s Inventions for keyboard make things go back to the ‘right places’ in my brain. I especially like the simplicity of Glenn Gould’s interpretation of these works.
There are some beautiful pieces featuring orientalism by Western composers in the early 1900s – Ravel’s Shéhérazade was written in
‘So much of the character of English song seems to be defined by melancholy’
1904 and Puccini wrote Madam Butterfly at almost the same time. Shéhérazade gives lots of room for imagining an unknown world. It can be sung either by a soprano or mezzo soprano. I have sung it myself, but if I were to choose a recording, mezzo Anne Sofie von Otter’s with the Cleveland Orchestra under Pierre Boulez sounds most expressive and sensual to my ears.
And also…
Sometimes it is not easy for me to understand Yukio Mishima’s philosophy in his novels, but his Five Modern Noh Plays are really interesting, as I could easily be in the story as one of these mysterious or complicated characters. These plays are all good as opera librettos, and the third and fifth stories have been made into operas by Japanese composers. I especially like the fourth, The Lady Aoi, based on my favourite episode from the old Japanese novel The Tale of Genji. Eri Nakamura sings the title role in a semistaged performance of Puccini’s Madam Butterfly with the Hallé at Bridgewater Hall, 28 May
Simon Callaghan Pianist
The first thing I play on Spotify when I get in the car for a long drive is pianist Martha Argerich. She is my idol, and there are so many recordings. Her studio recording of Haydn’s D major Concerto on Deutsche Grammophon captures her essence in live performance – specifically the last movement. It’s a movement that seems to change my mood in a positive direction; it’s my happy piece.
I recently made a recording of Rachmaninov’s Second Symphony for two pianos. We couldn’t find an arrangement so we made our own, and we used Yevgeny Svetlanov’s recordings as a benchmark, because we love his interpretation and skill as a conductor.
There are a couple of recordings, and also a video on Youtube. The CD recording I have is with the USSR Symphony Orchestra from the 1960s. I still find new things and want to listen again.
I’ve been listening to the LSO recording with Christa Ludwig and Gerry Hadley of Bernstein’s Candide recently – there isn’t a weak link in the cast. A favourite track is ‘The Ballad of Eldorado’ in Act II, when Candide has discovered this paradise and he talks about how it’s almost like Heaven on Earth. It’s written in 5/4, which could be a really jarring time signature, but it gives it this special, lilting quality.
And also…
The last couple of years have seen my television watching go up quite seriously. I binge-watched the new BBC series with Ben Whishaw, This Is Going To Hurt. When you watch someone give such a nuanced and spectacular performance – one which is multilayered and with buried messages – it is almost like a musical performance. I thought it was a very special thing to come along. Simon Callaghan’s recording of British Piano Concertos is out on the Lyrita label