The devil has all the best tunes: the musical life of Goethe’s Faust | Classical music

[ad_1]

If anyone wanted to know what it was like to blow your mind with a piece of music, they could do worse than listen to the closing movement of Gustav Mahler’s Eighth Symphony – and its great chorus of human voices proclaiming that the Eternal Feminine will lead us on upwards. The closing passage of Goethe’s Faust.

In Mahler’s own words: “Try to imagine the whole universe beginning to ring and resound. There are no longer human voices, but planets and suns revolving.” It was his “gift to the nation … a great joy-bringer”.

Mahler was a Catholic. Goethe was a sort of pagan, but a distinctly Protestant pagan. His drama led up to an explosion of emotion as the 100-year-old Faust, after decades of being in league with the Devil, is nonetheless redeemed by a heavenly choir of women, including the teenager he seduced and ruined in the first part of the play. Since most of the women in the choir are Catholic saints, it seems fair that Mahler should have made his chorus an unashamedly Catholic affair.

The Eighth Symphony premiered in Munich on 12 September 1910, some 80 years after the second part of Goethe’s great work was published. This extraordinary explosion of emotion and sound was by no means the only musical response to the greatest work of German literature.

Goethe spent more than 60 years writing his masterpiece. He began when he was a student in Strasbourg, and he was only able to finish it after his 81st birthday. What started as a reconstruction of the old Faust legend – the Renaissance man who, in exchange for knowledge and youth sold his soul to the Devil – developed into something very different. This was partly because Goethe introduced an entirely new element into the legend – Faust’s seduction of the teenager Gretchen, her unwanted pregnancy, the murder of her child, and her redemption. German law was especially strict in its treatment of women who either aborted their babies or killed them after birth. Gretchen’s pathetic case was an extreme example of a “sin” which might be thought to be beyond redemption. The Devil, at the end of Faust Part One, thinks he can take her soul too but he is frustrated at the very last minute. She calls on God to redeem her, and he does.

But some of us first became aware of the musical legacy of Faust as children. In the Tintin story Les Bijoux de La Castafiore (The Castafiore Emerald) the opera diva Bianca Castafiore loves singing the Jewel Song from Charles Gounod’s opera based on Faust Part One – in which the amazed teenage girl finds the cupboard in her little bedroom garret stuffed with priceless jewels – implanted by the Devil’s magic to seduce her.

Tintin’s Les Bijoux de la Castafiore, published in 1962 (here, a DVD version), in which Gounod’s Jewel Song features. Photograph: CBW/Alamy

Gounod’s 1859 opera is the most accessible operatic version of the Faust story and, perhaps for the very reason, that is the one that seems furthest from Goethe’s original conception. Gounod’s librettist, Jules Barbier, excised all Faust’s metaphysical angst, and made Marguerite, as Gretchen became, a soprano’s dream role, with some absolutely stunning solos, including the famous Jewel Song. Seduction, pregnancy, multiple murders, howling sorrow follows – what is there not to like, when set to lilting bel canto music?

It’s marvellous stuff, but a long way from Goethe. In Gounod, Faust is little more than a strutting cad, whereas in Goethe he personifies complicated modern humanity, searching for scientific truth and for an understanding of the universe, but aware of his own divided nature and his need for his Devil companion. In Gounod, the story becomes a simple Catholic tale of a bad man getting his comeuppance and being sent to hell, like Don Giovanni in Mozart’s opera, while his wronged girl is saved by the angels.

The bombast of Berlioz’s 1845 Damnation of Faust is magnificent in its depiction of a human soul cascading towards perdition, but it also lacks any of the ambiguity of Goethe – who anticipated one of his keenest readers, Nietzsche, in realising that human beings reach a point in crisis where they are “beyond good and evil”. That’s a challenge which readers can mull over in their armchairs, perhaps, more easily than audiences can take in at a night at the opera.

Goethe’s Faust does not sell his soul to the Devil. He has a bet that the Devil can only possess him if he has tried to make time stand still, or has failed (to use William Blake’s phrase) to kiss the joy as it flies. By the time the story is done, and Faust is 100 years old, he has sort-of experienced not only the long 18th century – with its revolutions in science and politics, but the times which followed. He has foreseen the Industrial Revolution, the wreckage of the planet, and the green movement; he has foreseen the end of Christianity, but reworked its images – a fact which was not lost on Richard Wagner, whose giants in the Ring of the Nibelungs are really the industrial technocrats who will destroy the natural order with their smoke and chimneys, and whose Rhine Maidens, raw nature, will reclaim their world when humanity has done its worst. Nature will win – not us.

‘Marvellous stuff, but a long way from Goethe’: Erwin Schrott (Mephistopheles), Michael Fabiano (Faust) and Irina Lungu (Marguerite) in Gounod’s Faust at the Royal Opera House, 2019. Photograph: Tristram Kenton/The Guardian

Seventy years before Charles Darwin, Goethe expounded a theory of evolution. What interested him as a scientist was not so much the mechanics of it – how we evolve – as the fact that impersonal nature could create the life-forms which eventually evolve in human consciousness.

Goethe described his great drama as “incommensurable” and to my mind the greatest musical expositions of Faust are the all-but incommensurable works of Franz Liszt, both in his Faust Symphony in three character pictures, and, most deeply and mysteriously, in the B-Minor Piano Sonata.

It was, in fact, Berlioz who turned Liszt’s attention to Faust as a suitable subject for composition, and it was the Hungarian composer who most fully understood the mind of Goethe, and the point of Faust. Liszt, like most thinking people in Europe in the decades after Goethe’s death in 1832, had been reading Faust. It is the book which defines the 19th century, because it is about intellectual and technological progress against spiritual loss; it is about love, damaged by men exploiting and damaging women; it is about how to have a new Europe, post Napoleon. It is about doubt and living with doubt, the archetypal 19th-century emotional theme. Liszt understood this all utterly.

His symphony depicts the three central characters of the drama – Faust himself, Gretchen and Mephistopheles. But I believe it is the B-Minor Piano Sonata which contains the greatest commentary on Faust.

Some have seen this as Liszt’s self-portrait; there is probably some truth in this. Liszt, like Faust, like Goethe, and like us – that is the point – is a divided soul. Mephistopheles is not the demon of medieval legend waiting to stick a pitchfork up our backsides. He is the darker, and more cynical, and more carnal side of our own nature. In one of the most unforgettable monologues of Goethe’s play, Faust realises that humanity is not just the observer of nature; we are part of nature. We are not like Kant’s so-reasonable Enlightenment Human looking on appearances. We are part of what we behold. We see, not only nature, but into our own psyche. (Not for nothing were Freud and Jung ardent Goetheans).

In the last year or so of a long endeavour – writing a book about Goethe and his Faustian Life – I played the Liszt B-Minor Sonata (interpreted by Stephen Hough, for me the greatest player of Liszt today) over and over again. Every time I hear the work it says something – infinitely poignant, exciting, heart-wrenching – which could not be said in words. That – so mysteriously – is also what happens every time you read Faust; since, as the aged Goethe reminded Eckermann (who noted down his immortal conversations) we walk in mysteries.

[ad_2]

Source link

Read More

‘I love it when things get out of hand’: the return of outrageous 90s rockers the Jesus Lizard | Music

[ad_1]

Sweaty, unhinged and with one of them frequently naked, few underground rock bands remain as revered as the Jesus Lizard. The US band’s early 90s albums Goat and Liar inspired awe in American alt-rock royalty such as Kurt Cobain, Steve Albini and Henry Rollins, and the band’s live sets cemented their status: guitarist Duane Denison, bassist David Wm Sims and drummer Mac McNeilly locked into near-ritualistic rock’n’roll while frontman David Yow, his genitals flapping, careened into the audience, surfacing like a pink dolphin fighting against a net of hairy arms and plaid shirts.

Hatched in Texas before relocating to Chicago, the band’s initial run lasted from 1987 to 1999. Since 2008 they have periodically reconvened for live “re-enactments” (Yow’s term), but their new album, Rack, is their first fresh music in 26 years: a tense, teeth-bared sewer rat of a record. “We had to be brutal and blunt with our assessment every step of the way so nothing came off flat or dull,” says Denison – dapper, charming, occasionally distracted by the whims of his cat – from his Nashville home. “I checked out other people’s old-guy reunion albums and made mental notes about what was good and what wasn’t. One thing I noticed is that they seem overly mature: really trying to show how wise they are and how they’ve grown. But that’s not fun. We want mindless mayhem along with an element of sophistication – that was always our thing.”

Indeed, the band have long combined the primal, horny honk of Led Zeppelin with elements of post-punk and minimalist composition; on those 90s classics Yow is utterly uninhibited, delivering caterwauled character studies and the breathy obscenities of a late-night crank caller. “To me, David’s voice was almost like a free jazz saxophone,” says Denison. “There was always the dichotomy between being this very organised working unit and the more free-range kind of thing.”

Like the band itself, Yow’s lyrics were weird, threatening and darkly comedic. Some, such as those featuring amputees or glum pygmies, were pure flights of fantasy, while others immortalised real-life figures such as a scumbag landlord or the drug-addled festivalgoer who once stole Sims’ clothes. The band’s gigs were equally unpredictable, with a naked Yow delivering parlour tricks involving his scrotum before vanishing into the crowd for multiple songs at a time.

“I love it when things get out of hand,” Yow admits. Speaking from his home in LA – his day job is retouching movie posters, with a sideline acting in films by the likes of Macon Blair and David Robert Mitchell – he’s almost the antithesis of his stage persona: quiet, thoughtful and drily, subtly funny. “I like the chaos and the confrontation, but it’s not testosterone-driven and it’s not malevolent,” he says. “It’s just fun to get right in people’s faces.”

‘We never really made money, but we didn’t go broke’ … the Jesus Lizard in 1997. Photograph: Paul Natkin/WireImage

His bandmates would try to keep out of his orbit and ensure the mayhem was somewhat contained. “He’d get hurt so often that our rule was we’d finish the song before we checked up on him,” says Denison. “More often than not he’d get up when we’d pour beer on him, though a couple times he didn’t.” Yow is matter-of-fact about the injuries he sustained, no matter how grievous. “I’ve been hospitalised several times,” he says. “I think the worst time was in Zurich. I jumped into the audience and they just sort of parted, so I hit the cement floor. They picked me up and dumped me back on stage and I was like a rag-doll – I’ve seen the video and it nearly made me puke. David Sims said he only quit playing when he noticed that my eyes were open but I wasn’t moving and that the puddle of blood under my head was getting bigger.”

We are talking the day before the singer’s 64th birthday, and while he is well aware of the toll the years have taken – he’s been working with a personal trainer to build strength and endurance in advance of the gigs the band have booked – he maintains that being part of the crowd is still part of the show. “It’s fun and I think it’s relatively entertaining,” he says wryly. “And, especially now that I’m pretty fucking old, supporting my own weight after a few songs gets difficult. If I jump out there I get to lay around.”

This knack for goading a reaction out of the audience predates the Jesus Lizard. “He was always theatrical in a weird way,” Denison says of seeing Yow perform in pre-Jesus Lizard act Scratch Acid. “Even when he wasn’t playing, he’d crash people’s gigs. Like when he went on stage with Butthole Surfers dressed as a redneck and broke a fake bottle over their singer’s head. It looked so real that people in the audience attacked him – someone broke his nose.”

Despite the bloodshed, insanity and temptations of life on the road, the Jesus Lizard were otherwise surprisingly sensible. They lived, toured and recorded frugally, the four of them sharing a three-bedroom house, driving their own tour buses and sleeping top-to-toe in cheap motels or on people’s floors. “I don’t think we ever lost money on tour,” says Denison. “Early on we never really made money, but we didn’t go broke. One year, I think 1990, my net income was $800. What did I live on?! If you look at photos from those days I just look skinny and insane.”

David Yow crowdsurfing at a gig in London, 1998. Photograph: Martyn Goodacre/Getty Images

This self-sustaining lifestyle bonded the band like family, and beyond their DIY decision-making they also fostered relationships with people who could help them navigate the industry: entertainment attorney Elizabeth Gregory ensured the band were paid not to write a third album to see out their contract with Capitol Records.

For a band so legendarily unpredictable, the Jesus Lizard’s 1999 demise came with a whimper rather than a bang. “We just kind of fizzled out,” says Denison. “There was no feud, no fighting, no unresolved conflicts or legal problems. We just kind of said, ‘OK, it’s been a good run’ and shook hands.” But from Yow’s perspective, the wheels began to fall off as early as 1996 when drummer McNeilly left the band to spend more time with his family. McNeilly’s replacement, Jim Kimball, proved less than ideal. “I hate his guts,” says Yow bluntly. “He’s such a dipshit. The time we spent with him as a hired hand was drudgery. It was like a job.”

Post-Lizard, members immersed themselves in family life, worked as accountants and librarians, embarked on solo projects and collaborated with everyone from Mike Patton (Faith No More), Flipper and Hank Williams III. Denison played on Jack White’s Fear of the Dawn LP and alongside the likes of Ronnie Wood on Beverley Knight’s album Music City Soul. Yow had been hesitant to embark on the “re-enactments” that began in 2008: “When we got back together and toured, I loved every minute of it,” he says. “But I don’t think that I’d missed it … to me it seemed like fucking an old girlfriend”.

Concerted efforts were required to woo him back to record the new material that the band had been surreptitiously working on without him. “He was apprehensive about it,” says Denison. “So the rest of us said: ‘Let’s start working on stuff. Once the train starts to leave the station he’ll want to get on board.’ And that’s exactly how it worked out.”

‘It was definitely not like the old days’ … the Jesus Lizard today. Photograph: Joshua Black Wilkins

While Yow seems laissez-faire about the band’s legacy or the role music plays in his life (“I love doing it, but it’s just not necessary for me the way it is for them – I wish I paid my bills through acting”), he is visibly excited when talking about new tracks such as Hide & Seek or Armistice Day: he describes the former as his favourite thing that Denison has ever done while raving about how “over-the-top” McNeilly’s drumming is on Grind.

Indeed, both men seem giddily energised by the music they are about to unleash. “It was definitely not like the old days,” says Denison of making new music together after so long. “But it seems like as soon as we start playing, things just happen – you find the parts fitting together. Obviously we’re older, wiser and more experienced, but in some ways I think we’re sounding better than before. Probably because we’re not getting wasted as much.”

Rack is out now on Ipecac Recordings

[ad_2]

Source link

Read More

Welcome to Shorworld • VAN Magazine

[ad_1]

I: The Amateur  

Images: Public Domain / CC0 via Wiki Commons • Collage: Alex Ketzer / VAN

About two years ago, a renowned European musician received a call from his agency with an offer for an unusual gig. A Dubai concert promoter named Classical Music Development Initiative (CMDI) wanted to pay him a fee on par with what he earns performing concertos with top orchestras, plus business class flights and a four-night stay in a five-star hotel, to perform a work for soloist and orchestra by a composer the musician had never heard of. The composer was named Alexey Shor. 

The piece was a rudimentary tonal work, and it reminded the performer of the classical music one might hear in a dentist’s waiting room: a toothless pastiche of Beethoven, Brahms, and Grieg. 

The musician, who requested anonymity for fear of professional repercussions, had no artistic interest in this composition. But like many freelance musicians at the time, he was still feeling the financial anxiety of the pandemic closures. Despite his reservations, he took the gig. 

Many aspects of the concert felt slapdash. “It was clear that the focus wasn’t on putting on an excellent concert,” he said. Looking back, he felt ambivalent about the experience. On the one hand, he worried about compromising his artistic principles, and said that if he hadn’t been available for the Shor concert, he “wouldn’t have spent a second regretting it.” Still, he had seen online that many famous musicians, including Steven Isserlis, Maxim Vengerov, Ray Chen, Denis Kozhukhin, Gautier Capuçon, Mikhail Pletnev, Daniel Lozakovich, James Ehnes, Behzod Abduraimov, Evgeny Kissin, and more, were not just performing the composer’s music, but praising it enthusiastically. 

“If the saints allow themselves to be bought,” he thought to himself, “then so can I.” 

The composer had seemingly appeared from nowhere. Now he was engaging the world’s best soloists to perform his music—compositions that some musicians and critics found amateurish at best and soulless at worst. 

So who was Alexey Shor? 


Articles online gave a basic outline of Shor’s biography. He was born in 1970 in Belaya Tserkov outside Kyiv, Ukraine, which was then part of the Soviet Union. A mathematician with a doctorate from Pennsylvania State University, he had studied at Moscow State University before moving to Israel in 1991, immediately followed by the United States. He began composing as an adult. 

But that was the barest sketch of the story. In an investigation for the Times of Malta, the journalist Jacob Borg learned that Shor’s real name was Alexey Vladimorovitch Kononenko. (VAN confirmed this independently.) Kononenko wasn’t just a mathematician—he was a brilliant mathematician. And he was spectacularly wealthy.    

After receiving his doctorate, Kononenko initially pursued a career in academia. Between 1996 and 1998, he was a postdoc at the University of Pennsylvania. But afterward, as Gregory Zuckerman outlines in his book The Man Who Solved the Market: How Jim Simons Launched the Quant Revolution, Kononenko wanted a tenure track offer from Princeton, Harvard or the University of Chicago. “He had achieved an awful lot, but he could have had more perspective and patience,” an academic peer told Zuckerman. Kononenko changed tack, and in 1999, he was hired as a quantitative researcher at Renaissance Technologies, or RenTech, the Long Island hedge fund founded by the mathematician Jim Simons in 1982. The firm filled its ranks with mathematicians and scientists, and used data modeling and analysis, rather than hustle and intuition, to guide its trades. Among hedge funds, its reputation is closer to that of a high-end research institute than a typical profit vehicle. 

“Simons created the greatest moneymaking machine in financial history,” Zuckerman writes. By 2019, the fund’s flagship fund Medallion, the most profitable fund in the organization—that only allows company employees to invest—had accrued over $100 billion in trading gains. Dubbed “the blackest box in all of finance” by Bloomberg in 2016, Medallion has long courted mystery—employees sign stringent NDAs—especially as its performance has seemed impervious to international trends. As other funds faltered during the financial crash of 2008, the Medallion fund soared 82%. Two years later, while competitors were recovering slowly, Medallion was managing $10 billion of investment, with returns hitting 65%. 

YouTube video

And as RenTech got rich, so too did its employees. In 2008 alone, Simons made personal profits of over $2 billion. Kononenko was also rising in seniority through the company, and, in 2003, he became co-head of the fund’s equities research group. He stayed with RenTech until 2016, when he could reflect on his role in one of the most remarkable runs in financial history. 

Publicly available New York property records give some idea of the wealth Kononenko accrued while at RenTech. Initially buying under his own name, before operating through a company named Sento Gosho LLC—a Japanese theme found in other Kononenko-linked companies like Taiko Asset Management LLC and Yoshiwara Properties—in 2008 and 2010, Kononenko bought two condos on the 44th floor of 151 East 58th Street in New York for a combined total of over $30 million, alongside another downtown Manhattan condo purchased for $2 million in 2009. In 2017, a fellow owner of a condo on the 44th floor sold up. This turned out to be Beyoncé Knowles. 

Asked why he was calling himself Shor, Kononenko told the Times of Malta, “My actual last name is quite a mouthful. It’s much easier to say and remember Shor as opposed to Kononenko.” 


So far, Kononenko’s story was an archetypal American one. Despite a modest upbringing, he had parlayed his intelligence into a high-level position with one of the world’s most prestigious private financial institutions—and he was making a killing. He also listened to classical music avidly.  

In 2010, he began composing. But composing has an extraordinarily high barrier to entry. It requires detailed knowledge of music theory, instrumental technique, score reading, and the repertoire. Starting out in his early 40s, Kononenko was the same age as many trained composers are when they write their first mature works. 

There was a lot of ground to cover. “I didn’t play any instruments as a kid, as I was very busy with math and science,” Kononenko told VAN. “I did attend concerts and listened to music whenever I had a free moment, but I never played an instrument. Now, I can play the piano a little, but not very well.” He decided to focus on composition. 

In 2012, Kononenko celebrated the first public performances of his works under the name Alexey Shor. He described his entry into the classical music scene to Classical Explorer: David Aaron Carpenter, an American violist who is the founder and artistic director of the Salomé Chamber Orchestra, and who runs Carpenter Fine Violins and Collectibles with his siblings, discovered Shor’s scores lying around his apartment. Carpenter played through them, asking Shor, “This is really good music, who wrote it?” 

In an email, Carpenter described Shor as “a visionary composer who has tirelessly advocated for the viola’s solo potential,” adding that the audience’s reaction to the premiere of Shor’s debut composition “Murka from Odessa: Symphonic Adventure,” a collaboration with the Israeli composer and arranger Oran Eldor, was “nothing short of breathtaking.” 

YouTube video

Though some musicians who have spoken to VAN have expressed skepticism, Shor’s music has found many admirers, especially among professional musicians. “In the midst of the world of conflict and destruction that we find ourselves in,” the Swedish violinist Daniel Lozakovich has written, “the music of Alexey Shor is a source of light.” Steven Isserlis told The Strad that Shor’s “Musical Pilgrimage” for cello and orchestra, which he performed in 2022, is “a very warm-hearted work and I like challenges.” Guy Braunstein, the former concertmaster of the Berlin Philharmonic, played Shor’s “Flight of the Falcon” in 2018. He told VAN that Shor’s music reminded him of Stravinsky and Arvo Pärt’s approaches to  reexamining the tradition. “It’s on the surface very simplistic, but there are of course many twists,” he said. “Alexey has found his own direction. The basis of the harmonic language is very simple and very old, but of course he made it his own.” 

When Shor has been reviewed by independent critics, he’s found less admiration. Geoff Brown, writing for the Times of London in 2020, described Shor’s works as “cloying banalities”: “would-be melodious 19th-century pastiches lacking all guts and spine.” In a review for New York Classical Review of Shor’s “Travel Notebook” for piano and orchestra, VAN contributor George Grella used a similar phrase, saying the piece included  “the most obvious banalities of sentiment and place.” 

“The rhythmic and melodic flavors for Barcelona, Rome, et al were all ersatz,” Grella continued. “Occasionally the music showed a flash of personality, but in the main it was without a distinctive style and anonymous.”

Some of Shor’s pieces, like “Musical Pilgrimage” or “Flight of the Falcon,” are harmonically simple (containing, for long stretches, no chord more complex than a dominant seventh); rhythmically corseted, hewing closely the beat and to clichéd patterns; and orchestrated in a blunt, blocky manner. Other pieces, like “Carpe Diem” for violin and orchestra or “Travel Notebook,” may be better constructed, but lack compositional development and dramaturgy. 

What makes a Shor work identifiable? According to some musicians, it is the mismatch between the rudimentary craftsmanship of the compositions and the skill with which those same compositions have been performed. 

Andrew Trovato, an American composer who uses elements of tonality in his works, said that “the high level of playing masks the compositional faults” in Shor’s music, adding that the musical resources available to Shor are ones that most composers can only dream of. The pieces put together a series of pretty individual moments that together “lack a fluid train of thought and development,” Trovato said. Multiple musicians pointed out that Shor’s work reminds them of music composed by artificial intelligence. 


As a composer, sources described Shor as perhaps musically naive, but honorable and generous. That characterization was markedly different from his reputation at RenTech, where he was considered brilliant yet combative. In musical circles, he was humble—at least before his career took off. 

Classical music could not exist without the patronage of the wealthy, and, like Kononenko, those patrons were often active participants in music-making. Frederick II the Great, King of Prussia, offered the flute virtuoso Johann Joachim Quantz an 800% salary increase from his existing position at Dresden if he taught him at court; the monarch composed 121 of his own solo sonatas, as well as concertos and other pieces for the instrument. Paul Sacher was a modestly successful conductor before he married into the F. Hoffmann-La Roche pharmaceuticals fortune; after taking a seat on the conglomerate’s board of directors, he spent lavishly on new music commissions, opened an archive for musical manuscripts in Basel, and continued to conduct. Recently, the composer Gordon Getty and his wife Ann sold some $200 million worth of art in order to donate money to the San Francisco Conservatory of Music, the San Francisco Opera, the San Francisco Symphony, and other institutions. Getty’s works have been conducted by Kent Nagano, among many other leading artists. 

Unlike these men, Kononenko made his own fortune. But besides that crucial difference, at the beginning of his musical career he seemed to fit easily into the archetype of the gentleman composer: a wealthy man with modest talent and a passionate love for music. That is, until he encountered Konstantin Ishkhanov, a businessman and philanthropist with numerous apparent links to the Russian state.  


II: The Island

Images: Public Domain / CC0 via Wiki Commons • Collage: Alex Ketzer / VAN

In March 2013, Joseph Muscat, leader of Malta’s center-left Labour Party, returned his party to power after 15 years in opposition. But his tenure did little to ease the corruption that afflicts the country. In 2017, the fearsome investigative journalist Daphne Caruana Galizia was killed there. When judges eventually concluded an inquiry into her death in 2021, they described Malta “moving towards a situation which could be qualified as a mafia state.”

In September 2013, Muscat introduced the Citizenship by Investment in Malta Program, commonly referred to as the “Golden Passport” scheme, allowing wealthy people from around the world to acquire citizenship for large sums of money, but with few other strings attached. (A month later, Muscat introduced legislation requiring “Golden Passport” applicants to buy or lease property on the island, leading to a boom time for estate agents and property developers.) Malta, already a haven for financial services, was now a gateway to residency in any of the European Union’s 27 member states. The Times of Malta reported that over half of applications in the scheme’s first year came from Russian nationals. The scheme was closed to Russians following the full-scale invasion of Ukraine, in the spring of 2022, but not before the two countries had become inextricably linked: financially, diplomatically, and culturally.

One of the beneficiaries of the passport scheme was Kononenko. Already a citizen of Israel, the United States, and the Caribbean nation of Saint Kitts and Nevis, he decided to apply for Maltese citizenship too. (“While United States citizenship is considered a gold standard, it is not always safe to travel and remain as an American in many parts of the world, particularly as an American Jew,” he explained to the Times of Malta. “Similarly, Israeli citizenship presents its own set of challenges in many parts of the world.”) 

According to documents revealed by the Passport Papers leak, Kononenko began his application for Maltese citizenship in 2014, quickly organizing a long-term property lease, a Maltese bank account, and the requisite substantial payments. His application documents state a special interest in establishing musical ties to Malta. “One of my main hobbies is music, specifically composition, and I look forward to attending the music festivals in Malta,” he wrote, citing the Malta Philharmonic Orchestra as an organization he would seek to join. (Kononenko declined to comment on the process of acquiring Maltese citizenship.)  

“Would it be helpful for a successful citizenship application if Alexey arranged for his compositions to be played by musicians at a Malta music festival?” asked an employee of Henley & Partners, the law firm that handled all Golden Passport applications. 

It would be. But somebody would need to arrange for those performances of Shor’s compositions. That person was Konstantin Ishkhanov. 


Like Kononenko, Ishkhanov arrived late to the cultural sphere. Also like Kononenko, most of the information available online about Ishkhanov is light on biographical detail. Musicians who interacted with Ishkhanov told VAN that he didn’t discuss his past with them. But at the same time Kononenko was trying his hand at composition, Ishkhanov was finding a path for himself as a cultural philanthropist. Bald, tanned, and solidly built, a photo that accompanies several early articles about him shows Ishkhanov at a large wooden desk, wearing a blue suit and looking like a titan of industry.  

According to a PowerPoint presentation created to promote his philanthropic work, Ishkhanov had been interested in classical music “since childhood, when musicians and artists would frequent the family home due to his mother’s piano performances and other artistic activities.” Meanwhile, his career was in oil engineering. Born in Baku in 1970—the same year as Kononenko—Ishkhanov entered the Azerbaijan Institute of Oil and Chemistry in 1987, after leaving secondary school. He moved to Moscow’s Gubkin Institute of Oil and Gas in 1993, where he specialized in “information-measuring and computing equipment.” (The Armenian investigative outlet Hetq reported that Ishkhanov also studied at the Moscow State Institute of International Relations.) 

Having qualified as an engineer, Ishkhanov spent 14 years in the Russian oil and gas sector, as a director at RANKO (Russian-American Oil and Gas Company) and later as a leader of the Electroservice and Promtehelektro groups of companies. 

In 2007, Ishkhanov moved to Malta. From this European base, he founded several cultural organizations with similar names. Those included the for-profit European Centre for Culture & Arts GmbH (ECCA), which was based in Cologne and presented concerts around Germany and emphasized Russian music performed by Russian artists. At the time, the firm put on events with Russisches Haus, a cultural outreach organization that public prosecutors in Berlin are currently investigating for alleged links to Rossotrudnichestvo, the cultural outreach department of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. 

“Rossotrudnichestvo is not like the British Council,” Christopher Steele, a British intelligence officer, Russia expert, and director of Orbis Business Intelligence, told VAN. “It’s a state actor with a track record of influence operations.” The organization is currently led by Yevgeny Primakov Jr., grandson of Yevgeny Primakov, who served as Russian Foreign Minister and Prime Minister, and was director of the Foreign Intelligence Service (SVR) from 1991 to 1996. (Rossotrudnichestvo is suspected of links to Russian intelligence and has been on the European Union sanctions list since July 2022. ) 

According to earlier versions of the website, ECCA GmbH received funding from the “government of Moscow, the Russian General Consulate,” and other, unnamed “European organizations.” (The website is now offline.) Other Ishkhanov-linked companies in Germany include the non-profit Europäischer Kulturförderverein (Club for the Support of European Culture) in Gräfelfing, founded in 2019 by Ishkhanov, his wife Tatyana Ishkhanova, and Regina Goldfarb. Goldfarb, who helps Ishkhanov organize concerts, is named in public records as the manager of another defunct four-letter, for-profit company: the Russian-German Culture Club UG (RGCC), also based in Cologne. It is not clear what activities the latter two companies organized. Reached by phone, Goldfarb declined to comment.  

In Malta, Ishkhanov was the head of the Maltese-Russian Friendship Foundation (MRFF), which published the Maltese Herald, a newsletter written in Russian and English. But Ishkhanov’s first cultural project to truly take off was the European Foundation for Support of Culture (EUFSC), a non-profit foundation that was registered in Malta in February 2015. The foundation presented a wider range of events than ECCA, but still emphasized Russian music and Russian artists, and was registered to the same address as the Maltese chapter of the Russian Cultural Centre in Valletta. 

Following the full-scale Russian invasion of Ukraine, references to EUFSC’s links to the Russian government were scrubbed: In January 2022, the “About” section of the EUFSC’s website mentioned the Embassy of the Russian Federation, but by October of that year, that mention was missing. 


All governments use culture to promote their political interests; in the 20th century, the Central Intelligence Agency famously supported modern American artists as part of its effort to “propagate the virtues of Western democratic culture.” In Vladimir Putin’s Russia, classical music has served as a potent tool of influence, though a more subtle one than troll farms, election inference, and disinformation.  

In 2014, Putin signed a decree encouraging the use of music to strategically “encourage a positive image of Russia on the international level,” the musicologist Friedrich Geiger writes. At the same time, the Russian government warned against art opposed to “traditional values.” “No experiments with form can justify the substance that contradicts the values traditional for our society,” a Ministry of Culture statement from the time said. (Like many other musicians working today, Kononenko appears to compose tonal music out of a genuine preference for that style. “Generally, I don’t closely follow contemporary music,” he told VAN. “Occasionally, I come across something that piques my interest, but I usually attend concerts and listen at home to more traditional classical music.”) 

The Russian regime has employed classical music performances to represent moral superiority over enemies such as the Islamic State and to emotionally equate the invasion of Ukraine with the nation’s heroic efforts against Nazi Germany in World War II. It sees itself in a civilizational struggle with the West, and culture as an important weapon in that struggle. To that end, the Russian government has lavished funding and opportunities on classical music figures at home and abroad in an apparent attempt to secure loyal, long-term advocates for its worldview. 

One such figure is the German culture manager Hans-Joachim Frey. Frey had a high profile career in central Europe, serving as director of operations and director of opera at the Semperoper in Dresden (where, as director of the SemperOpernBall, he bestowed a medal on Putin), managing director of the Theater Bremen, and artistic director of the the Brucknerhaus in Linz, Austria. In these roles, Frey featured some ferociously pro-government Russian artists, including Sergei Roldugin, the cellist alleged to be helping Putin disguise his personal fortune. According to Frey, Roldugin’s St. Petersburg Music House paid fees and travel costs for musicians such as Miroslav Kultyshev and Philipp Kopachevsky to perform in Linz. (Both have also performed Shor’s music.) 

A composition by Shor was also heard at an event put on by Roldugin’s foundation: the piano suite “Childhood Memories” was featured at a 2019 recital given by pianist Alexei Kuznetsov at Kyrgyz National Conservatory in Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan, titled “Embassy of Musical Mastery.” The concert was organized by St. Petersburg Music House “in cooperation with Rossotrudnichestvo.” ([I] don’t know anything about the concert you are mentioning,” Kononenko told VAN.) 

YouTube video

In September 2019, Frey, meanwhile the artistic director of the Sirius Talent and Success Educational Foundation in Sochi, was photographed at a ball with Aleksandra Mitiureva, an elegant woman who works with Ishkhanov. According to LinkedIn, Mitiureva was employed by the European Foundation for Support of Culture’s international department in Malta, and later at the Dubai concert promoter Classical Music Development Initiative.

“I have never been a Russian citizen… have never received any payments from any Russian sources; and don’t know any Russian diplomats or officials,” Kononenko said. “(Of course, it’s possible I met some in passing somewhere).” 

“I refrain from making political comments, as I believe music is the only topic on which it makes sense for anyone to care about my views,” Kononenko told VAN. “Privately, however, I detest Russian aggression, pray for Ukraine, and try to help my Ukrainian friends whenever I can. One fact that made it into open sources is that I helped the Kyiv Virtuosi orchestra escape the war and to live in Italy for two years.”

Following a detailed request for comment, VAN received an email from Kononenko’s German lawyer, Prof. Dr. Christian Schertz, saying that this request for comment contained false allegations; that it is not Kononenko’s task to refute those allegations; and that publishing the unspecified false allegations would lead him to take legal action against VAN using all the means at his disposal. Ishkhanov and Mitiureva did not respond to repeated requests for comment. 

Several musicians and classical music industry figures contacted by VAN for this story said they suspected that Ishkhanov and his organizations—though not Kononenko—had links to the Russian government or private Russian wealth during their work with his organizations, but that politics didn’t come up at all during that work. Some told VAN that despite doubts about the source of the funding, they were happy to accept it, as long as it was being spent on classical music. 


Kononenko and Ishkhanov began appearing together in 2015, when Kononenko sponsored a series of concerts in Malta that included his music. After that, Ishkhanov’s philanthropic activities began heavily emphasizing Shor’s compositions in their programming. In fact, Shor’s works often seemed to be the only unifying factor in EUFSC activities, which featured concerts covering everything from Rachmaninoff, Tchaikovsky and Chopin programs to an event celebrating the 330th anniversary of the balalaika. And much more: Between 2014 and 2023, the foundation put on some 144 events in Malta, the United Kingdom, Germany, Austria, Italy, Armenia, the United States, and Russia, from one-off concerts to festivals, competitions, masterclasses, galas, and an ice show. Nearly every one of these events included at least one work by Alexey Shor. A highlight of these activities was the September 2018 premiere of Shor’s “ballet with operatic elements,” titled “Crystal Palace,” at the Great Hall of the State Kremlin Palace.  

“Having your internationally renowned compositions at the concerts was a great privilege,” Ishkhanov and Alan Chircop, artistic director of the Malta International Music Festival, told Kononenko in an email following two concerts Kononenko sponsored in Malta in 2015. “Your financial support and personal involvement helped make these concerts a resounding success… We trust that with your active support and involvement, the music life and culture in Malta will be truly enriched.” (The email was included in Kononenko’s citizenship application, which was part of the Passport Papers leak.) 

At one concert in Malta, Kononenko was named as sponsor and A. Shor as composer. They were, of course, the same person. 

Ishkhanov also showed that, apparently by deploying Kononenko’s fortune, he could bring the former mathematician’s compositions to the world’s great concert halls, performed by some of the best instrumentalists alive. Today, the name Alexey Shor has graced programs at Berlin’s Philharmonie, the Barbican Centre, Carnegie Hall, the Concertgebouw and Wigmore Hall, and has been performed by many of the world’s best soloists. 

It’s unclear whether these musicians’ motives have been aesthetic, mercenary, or both. Isserlis, Vengerov, Chen, Kozukhin, Capuçon, Pletnev, Lozakovich, Ehnes, Abduraimov, and Kissin declined to discuss Shor’s music when contacted by VAN. “I know people who earned a one bedroom apartment,” said a performer, “or even a two bedroom apartment, just on Shor’s music.” 

Maxim Vengerov (Public Domain / CC0 via Wiki Commons) • Steven Isserlis (Kronbergacademy, CC BY-SA 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons) • Ray Chen (Zv240, CC BY-SA 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons) • Denis Kozhukin (Screenshot taken from YouTube) • Gautier Capuçon (Ugo Ponte onl, CC BY-SA 2.0, via Wikimedia Commons) • Daniel Lozakovich (Screenshot taken from YouTube) • Mikhail Pletnev (Russian National Orchestra, CC BY-SA 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons) • Joseph Calleja (Reanu Keeves, CC BY-SA 3.0, via Wikimedia Commons) • Collage: Alex Ketzer / VAN

As Shor’s status rose, the purported arrogant streak familiar from his days at RenTech began emerging in a musical context. He demanded, at times contractually, that leading musicians perform his works by heart—more a symbol of devotion than proof of interpretative quality—and he would only support concerts if they included his music. If composing had started as a hobby for him, he now seemed to be aiming for musical success and saturation. (Kononenko declined to comment on his pursuit of musical prestige.)  

A source who requested anonymity for fear of retaliation described Kononenko as a largely apolitical person, but keen for musical success. Kononenko is “incredibly ambitious as a tornado,” the source said.  


The European Foundation for Support of Culture rapidly established itself as a leading philanthropic organization in Malta’s classical music circles. According to reporting by Jacob Borg for the Times of Malta, the foundation was responsible for an especially abrupt rise in the Malta Philharmonic’s fortunes. The ensemble, which one source described as a “sleepy island orchestra,” quickly found itself with a demanding international touring schedule, including a tour with dates at Carnegie Hall and the Mariinsky Theater.

Citing confidential sources, Borg wrote that Ishkhanov had established “considerable” influence at the Malta Philharmonic Orchestra. In 2017, Ishkhanov’s son Dmitry, a pianist, performed with the ensemble in their season closing concert. (The Malta Philharmonic told the Times of Malta it received less than €10,000 from the foundation. The orchestra did not respond to a separate request for comment from VAN.) 

In a 2017 op-ed, Russian Ambassador to Malta Vladimir Malygin singled out Ishkhanov, Shor, and EUFSC for praise, saying the foundation has “been doing a remarkable job… bringing the best of Russian culture to Malta.” In 2014, Malygin had been expelled from Lithuania after the government accused him of spying under the cover of his title of Consul General. Malta was his next posting, and Malygin received the Order of Friendship by a Putin decree “for his significant contribution to the implementation of the foreign policy of the Russian Federation.” (Malygin left Malta in 2021. The Embassy of the Russian Federation in Malta did not respond to a request for comment.)    

In 2018, the foundation reached the peak of its influence. Malta’s capital, Valletta, was named European Capital of Culture; meanwhile, the European Foundation for the Support of Culture put on both the Malta International Music Festival (with 11 works by Shor and a starry international cast) and the Malta International Piano Competition (with 11 different qualifying competitions leading to a final in Malta and a first prize of €100,000). In 2018, Aleksandra Mitiureva, the EUFSC employee photographed with Hans-Joachim Frey, was shown in an Instagram post with the Maltese Ambassador to Russia, Pierre Clive Agius. “Successful negotiations with the Ambassador,” she wrote in the caption. “Sure we will do great things together.” 

In 2019, Konstantin Ishkhanov was honored by the Malta Arts Council for his “exceptional contribution” to cultural life” on the island. The same year, the Association for Support of Cultural Initiatives (APKI), a company founded by Mitiureva that represented the EUFSC in Russia, co-hosted a Maltese conference on liquified natural gas that was attended by international business interests including representatives for Russian state-owned energy giant Gazprom. 

A website for APKI, now offline, described its mission as putting on “events in the sphere of strengthening the spiritual values of Russian and world culture in the territory of the Russian Federation and abroad… A special place in the activities of the Association is the promotion of classical music in all its manifestations.” 

Mitiureva would do “everything necessary to develop cultural relations between Russia and Malta,” she told the magazine of Ishkhanov’s Maltese-Russian Friendship Foundation, the Maltese Herald. This included a collaboration between APKI, EUFSC and the Palace of the Kremlin to stage Shor’s ballet “Crystal Palace” in celebration of the 50th anniversary of diplomatic relations between Russia and Malta. (After APKI’s revenue rose from 3.17m Rubles in 2017 to 59.45m Rubles in a single year—an increase of 1775%—Mitiureva resigned from her post in 2019, and the company was liquidated in 2021. APKI’s website has been deleted, and Mitiureva has since changed her surname to Miteran.)


In 2020, the Maltese government concluded a due diligence report on the Malta Philharmonic’s relationship with donors, which gave the orchestra the all-clear to continue working with Ishkhanov. (It did not release the report, and the orchestra rejected Times of Malta freedom of information requests seeking its contracts with the European Foundation for Support of Culture. In April, the Maltese data protection commissioner ordered the Malta Philharmonic to comply with the newspaper’s request.) 

In July 2023, Sergei Smbatyan, who had been the orchestra’s principal conductor since January 2022, and whose father Armen, a trained musician who later served as the Armenian Ambassador to Russia, was briefly suspended from his post. Publicly petitioning in Sergei Symbatyan’s support was an unusual coalition of cultural figures including Russian pianist Alexander Romanovsky, the Royal College of Music professor suspended for playing outside a bombed-out Mariupol Theater; Mikhail Shvidkoy, the Special Envoy of the President of the Russian Federation for International Cultural Cooperation; and seven of Armenia’s finest Greco-Roman wrestlers. In October, Smbatyan was reinstated to his MPO position and, through a representative, said he will conduct at least five concerts as Principal Conductor of the Malta Philharmonic in the 2024–25 season, though he will not conduct any music by Shor there. (Smbatyan is scheduled to conduct Shor’s music in Armenia at the end of the month.).

YouTube video

As one source who has followed the classical music scene in Malta for the past decade told VAN, the island seemed like the perfect place to start an opaque music empire. But as early as June 2022, not long after the Russian invasion of Ukraine, the EUFSC roadshow in Malta had mostly departed. As quickly as the foundation had built a “Mediterranean hub for creativity, diversity and cultural activity,” it was gone. In April 2024, the Times of Malta reported that all ties between the Malta Philharmonic and EUFSC had been severed more than 18 months ago. Even the EUFSC itself seemed to shut down. Their last Facebook post was in November 2022, and entries on their website stopped around a similar time.

The final entries on the EUFSC events page give hints as to the future—two tours of Eurasia of Maltese performers Joseph Calleja and Alan Chircop, music festivals in Latvia and Armenia, and a competition in Dubai. But it seems that Ishkhanov and Kononenko didn’t need Malta anymore. Now, they had their own world. 


III: Welcome to Shorworld 

Images: Public Domain / CC0 via Wiki Commons • Collage: Alex Ketzer / VAN

Like a town built around a mine, an entire ecology has sprung up around the seemingly inexhaustible resources of Kononenko’s fortune and Ishkhanov’s energy as an organizer. That ecology is Shorworld: a labyrinthine network that intersects with the mainstream classical music industry while duplicating many of its structures. And though the organizations have left Malta, they seem to have found a suitable new base in Dubai, which has become a hub for Russian intelligence and business interests following the invasion of Ukraine.  

Shorworld encompasses celebrity musicians who have endorsed Shor and Ishkhanov (though sometimes in evasive terms). It includes orchestras, from the London Symphony Orchestra to the Tokyo Philharmonic, whose performances of his music Shor has collected with Pokemon-worthy completism. It has its own circuit of festivals where Shor is featured, and its own network of competitions where Shor is required repertoire. And it produces a steady stream of sponsored content in the classical music publications.

This includes VAN Magazine. In August 2021, an EUFSC representative named Aleksandra Ogneva booked sponsored articles on our website promoting the Classic Piano International Piano Competition in Dubai. VAN hosted two sponsored articles that ran over two weeks for a fee of €1,350. (The articles were clearly marked as advertisements, and VAN editors played no part in writing them.) According to her LinkedIn resumé, Ogneva served as a cultural attaché for the Russian Embassy in Germany between 2005 and 2012. She did not reply to a request for comment. 

In Dubai, Ishkhanov and his organizations replicated a structure familiar from their time in Malta: the large-scale, international music competition. Yet even by the cozy standards of classical music competitions, a striking number of generous prizes have been given from teachers to students or shared among colleagues in this ecosystem.  

The 2024 Classic Piano International Competition consisted of 14 qualifying rounds leading to a grand finale in Dubai. In the Vienna qualifier, all three winners were students of chief juror Pavel Gililov. (Gililov, a professor at the Mozarteum, teaches piano to Ishkhanov’s son Dmitry, whom the tabloid Bild once dubbed a “Mini-Mozart.” Reached by phone, Gililov declined to comment.) In Lyon, all three podium places were given to former or current students of jurors. In the UK qualifier, two of the three podium places were given to former or current students of jurors Gililov or Ashley Wass. In Warsaw, first and third place went to students of a juror. Analysis by VAN shows that over  €100,000 of prize money passed from teachers to former or current students at this round of the competition.

These are far from isolated incidents. At Classic Strings 2022, the winner, Israel Philharmonic concertmaster Dumitru Pocitari, won first prize and €100,000 in total, while the orchestra’s general manager sat on the jury. Two years later, Andrey Gugnin won the Classic Piano competition. Gugnin has been playing Shor’s music since at least 2017

Last month, Boris Brovtsyn, an established violin soloist and chamber musician, won the London round of the Classic Violin Olympus competition, receiving €20,000 in prize money. The jury included Pavel Vernikov, a colleague of Brovtsyn at the Musik und Kunst Privatuniversität der Stadt Wien and “one of the most sought-after teachers in the world right now,” as Brovtsyn put it. It also included Robin Wilson, another colleague of Brovtsyn from the violin department at the Yehudi Menuhin School in Surrey, England. (“One doesn’t choose their juries,” Brovtsyn said. Though he knew Vernikov would be on the jury, he felt “quite uneasy” when he realized Wilson would be adjudicating; Brovtsyn said his first proper interaction with Wilson was after the competition, when Brovtsyn apologized for the “awkward position” he had put Wilson in.) Brovtsyn will progress to the finals of the competition in Dubai in April 2025, where he will compete for a share of a total prize fund of €310,000. 

Even when artists win competitions without connections to Shor and Ishkhanov—Brovtsyn, who has previously performed Shor’s Fifth Violin Concerto, said he had only met the composer once—the prizes seem designed to bring them closer into the two mens’ orbit. In 2021, the pianist Miroslav Kultyshev won the InClassica “Classic Piano” International Piano Competition. He received €100,000, plus another €100,000 doled out over 20 concerts. Kultyshev has so far played 10 of those concerts, in Europe’s most prestigious venues, including the Musikverein in Vienna, the Rudolfinum in Prague, and the Mozarteum in Salzburg. The contract states that he must play music by Shor on each of the 20 programs. 

“Logic and harmony—this is all wonderful, but the most important thing is that I saw that this music was written by a good person,” Kultyshev said of Shor’s music. “It is very sincere and, I would say, it comes from the right place.”

The ecosystem is also diversifying. In October 2022, Shor was named the first ever Associate Composer of the Yehudi Menuhin School, a prestigious specialist music school for students aged 8 to 19. In the announcement, Music Director Ashley Wass said he was “immediately struck by the exceptional craftsmanship” of Shor/Pletnev’s Piano Sonata. “This is 21st Century music which is distinctive, communicative, and deeply moving, and I’m hugely excited at the prospect of our pupils having the opportunity to explore Alexey’s musical oeuvre.” 

It is unclear what the Associate Composer role entails, what the process of recruitment involved, or how much work Shor has done at the school so far. But since the appointment, Wass has completed a nine-date Classical Music Development Initiative-backed tour of the UK playing Shor’s music; was a jury member on two EUFSC/CMDI competitions; and led CMDI masterclasses in Austria and Italy. (Wass didn’t respond to multiple requests for comment.)

After the European Foundation for Support of Culture left Malta, Ishkhanov and his colleague, Aleksandra Mitiureva, founded two similar organizations in Dubai. Ishkhanov is named as the director of the Classical Music Development Initiative, while Mitiureva runs the associated SAMIT Event Group. The firm has presented  Shor’s ballet “A Thousand Tales” in Bahrain, among other projects, and hosts a concert series called VIP Classical. With a board consisting of Mitiureva and Erik Essiger, founder of financial services provider Emirates Capital and a previous member of the German-Russian Co-operation Council, VIP Classical caters primarily to diplomats and other luminaries under the banner “Music unites cultures.” 

Mitiureva has previous experience uniting business and diplomatic interests using classical music, though with more targeted aims, through her work at APKI. In April 2019, when APKI co-hosted the Liquid Natural Gas (LNG) Congress, in Malta, APKI organized for delegates to attend a concert of the Malta International Music Festival, hosted by the EUFSC. VIP Classical hosts performers such as Pletnev, Wass, Clara-Jumi Kang and Sunwook Kim, and Denis Kozhukhin, whose recital was attended by ambassadors from Canada, Finland, Panama, Côte d’Ivoire, Uganda and Moldova.

Works by Shor were on each of those artist’s programs. 


Immediately following the performance, the musician who played Shor in Dubai two years ago swore that he would never play the composer’s work again. “I did it once for the good money,” he said, “but in and of itself, it’s just too shitty.” 

Then he was asked to perform another handful of Shor concerts. The combination of high fees, low required practice time, passive peer pressure, and broad funding freezes for classical music performances meant that the musician felt unable to say no. He performed the work twice more, in Europe this time, for the same fee and with the same uncanny feeling: that reaching audiences with excellent performances wasn’t quite the point. Would he do it again in the future? “Hopefully,” he said, “that won’t be necessary.” ¶


Hartmut Welscher and Les Vynogradov contributed reporting.



[ad_2]

Source link

Read More

Last Night of the Proms review – pauses stretched patience but warmth and a Mexican wave won out | Proms 2024

[ad_1]

If programming the Proms as a whole is a balancing act, the Last Night has its own extra challenges, not all of them connected to culture wars. Is it a live event that happens to be televised, or a TV broadcast with a live audience? This year, long pauses between short pieces meant that, for the first hour or so, there was almost as much waiting as music – making time for pre-recorded interviews on the TV broadcast but stretching patience in the hall, despite the relishable quality of the BBCSO’s playing and the bonhomie radiated by its conductor Sakari Oramo. Plus the piano was rolled on near the end of the first half and off during the second, which, for all the efficiency of the Proms stage staff, is no Formula 1 pitstop.

Still, that piano, or the person playing it, provided several of the evening’s highlights. As well as joining the US soprano Angel Blue in his own arrangement of two Spirituals, Stephen Hough was a nuanced soloist in Saint-Saëns’s ‘Egyptian’ Concerto – the second movement only, sadly – creating something magical with the composer’s other-worldly overtone effects. This would have been a sober end to the first half had he not followed it as an encore with his own dazzlingly playful fantasia on Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.

Blue, who was fulfilling a childhood dream by singing here, was on velvet-voiced form in two Puccini arias plus a flirty Spanish operetta number by Ruperto Chapì, delivered while lobbing roses into the audience, before returning to lead Rule, Britannia. Once again, the “azure main” she sang about might have referred to the sea of EU flags joining the union jacks and others throughout the hall.

As well as a couple of worthwhile Proms firsts – a bittersweet part song by Samuel Coleridge-Taylor, beautifully delivered by the BBC Singers, and Grace Williams’s elegant Fantasia on Welsh Nursery Tunes – there were two more premieres. Carlos Simon’s Hellfighters’ Blues paid tribute to the pioneering Black musicians of the 369th Infantry Regiment band in a joyful collision of blues and march, with a louchely jazzy starring turn for the BBCSO’s principal trumpet. And, following a sporting theme begun earlier by Charles Ives’s almost surreal orchestral depiction of the Yale-Princeton Football Game, Iain Farrington’s Extra Time was a mash-up of all the BBC’s sports theme tunes: a fluffy but inspired bit of Last Night silliness that had the BBC Symphony Chorus starting a huge Mexican wave.

[ad_2]

Source link

Read More

Astrid Williamson: Shetland Suite review – a beautiful enchantment | Folk music

[ad_1]

Born and raised in Shetland and classically trained at the Royal Conservatoire of Scotland in Glasgow, Astrid Williamson was pulled back to her homeland by her mother’s turn to dementia and subsequent death. Shetland Suite, Williamson’s 10th album (including one fronting alt rockers Goya Dress), is an affecting tribute to her mother, a piano teacher, who even in the grip of dementia would sing these songs. Most are written in Shetland’s rich dialect, with one in Old Norse, and there are also instrumentals recalled from Williamson’s early violin lessons.

She plays, sings and produces everything, casting a yearning, sepulchral stillness over many of the numbers, with scant instrumentation beyond piano, discreet electronica and occasional gusts of wind and wave, relying on her vocals, often multi-tracked, to do the work. It all works perfectly. Unst Boat Song is an antique chant that is both celebration of sailing and a ward against bad weather. Da Narrowa Wheel is a mesmeric work song to accompany spinning. King Orfeo is a well-known ballad, with a harp-playing king (Orpheus) rescuing his wife from the faerie world, while Da Selkie Wife’s Sang is a minimalist modern piece that captures the islands’ weft of seashore and sky. A beautiful enchantment of place and memory.

[ad_2]

Source link

Read More

Benjamin/Crimp: Picture a day like this album review – jewel-like precision | Classical music

[ad_1]

Throughout his career, Nimbus has faithfully chronicled George Benjamin’s output. The label has nearly all his major works in its catalogue, and now releases Benjamin’s fourth opera with a libretto by Martin Crimp, which was first performed at the Aix-en-Provence festival in July last year, where this recording was made. By the time the production of Picture a day like this reached Covent Garden’s Linbury theatre two months later, the cast had changed and Benjamin was no longer the conductor, so it is good to have the chance to hear it with the original Aix lineup. That was headed by Marianne Crebassa as the Woman who, seeking a miracle to return her child to life, has a day to find someone who is truly happy, while Anna Prohaska is Zabelle, who tends the garden in which the Woman finds, if not the miracle she is looking for, then a way of coming to terms with her loss.

The artwork for Picture a Day Like This. Photograph: Nimbus Records

Both singers seem to inhabit their characters effortlessly. Right from the unaccompanied recitative with which she opens the opera, Crebassa combines determination and steeliness with a suggestion of vulnerability as she undertakes her fruitless quest, while beneath her serenity, Prohaska manages to convey that Zabelle’s path to acceptance has not been an easy one. The other members of the cast take multiple roles in the Woman’s search: Beate Mordal and Cameron Shahbazi are a pair of lovers, and a composer and her assistant; John Brancy a collector and an artisan; all three are excellent.

If the fairytale ambiguity of Picture a day like this is much closer to Benjamin and Crimp’s first collaboration, Into the Little Hill, than it is to the fierce, stark tragedies of Written on Skin and Lessons in Love and Violence, then the beauty of Benjamin’s instrumental lines, every colour and every texture so precisely imagined, and the easy grace of his vocal writing, which always preserves the integrity of the text, have been constants throughout. There are moments when the action could move more quickly, and its basic premise seems a little too mechanical, but the jewel-like precision of it is always impressive.

Allow content provided by a third party?

This article includes content hosted on embed.music.apple.com. We ask for your permission before anything is loaded, as the provider may be using cookies and other technologies. To view this content, click 'Allow and continue'.

Listen on Apple Music (above) or on Spotify

[ad_2]

Source link

Read More

‘This janitor’s daughter became a state deputy’: Leci Brandão, the Brazilian samba star turned communist lawmaker | Music

[ad_1]

As soon as she arrives at the headquarters of Rosas de Ouro, a popular samba school in São Paulo, Leci Brandão apologises for being late. Coupled with the megacity’s usual traffic, her agenda at its legislative assembly kept her busy longer than expected. “My mission is trying to solve other people’s problems,” she says after greeting school staff. A lawmaker with Brazil’s Communist party since 2011, Brandão – who turns 80 on Thursday – is the first Black woman to occupy a seat in São Paulo parliament this long and only the second Black congresswoman in its history.

While she had never imagined herself in office, institutional politics unfolded as an extension of her music. Brandão is also a trailblazing samba musician, one of the first female composers in the male-dominated genre, breaking through in 1976 with politically engaged songs that exposed and opposed the conservatism and inequalities of Brazilian society.

Until the early 1980s, progressive songs were often censored as an oppressive military regime run by Brazil’s armed forces had been ruling the country since 1964: composed in 1978 but unreleased for seven years owing to tensions with her label, which thought her music too heavy, Brandão’s Zé do Caroço tells the true story of a favela leader who helped raise his community’s political consciousness. It remains a resistance anthem to this day.

Writing political songs “results from my life condition”, says Brandão. “I was born as a Black girl who grew up poor. I felt the need to express what I witnessed and experienced. If it weren’t through songs, maybe I’d be a journalist,” she says, sipping water and touching up her red lipstick.

Brandão’s 1978 album Metades

Brandão’s was a working-class home in Rio de Janeiro’s outskirts, where her father’s record player set the cheerful tone of family life. “We never ran out of music,” she says. Her mother and grandmother, meanwhile, were members of the Mangueira samba school, and her father’s eclectic 78rpm records – from Nat King Cole classics to Jacob do Bandolim’s choros to Bienvenido Granda’s boleros – inspired her curiosity for music. But her father died when she was 19 years old, prompting Brandão to work jobs such as telephonist and factory operator to help make ends meet; for years, she lived in the back house of various public schools in Rio with her mother, who worked in them as cleaner, janitor and cook.

“I felt really sorry for my mom,” Brandão says. “She had to clean classrooms in the morning, afternoon and evening, so I helped her do the hard work. Serving people has, somehow, always been part of my life.” When elected for the first time, she immediately called her mother to tell the news. “I told her that the janitor’s daughter had become a state deputy of São Paulo. We both cried.”

Brandão taught herself singing and percussion, and heartbreak inspired her to write her first song at the age of 21, a bossa nova-like number that ended up not getting recorded. “I discovered I was a composer because of this longing, this suffering,” she has previously said. But her music soon grew closer to samba, and to progressive politics.

In 1972 she became the first female composer at the samba school her mother and grandmother had attended, one of the most traditional in Rio, and earned renown from winning a TV singing show and participating in the famous samba nights at the Opinião theatre – a headquarters for left-leaning resistance in Rio at the time. Come 1974, Brandão launched her debut album with songs such as Preferência, which satirised the arrogance of an evening with the Rio bourgeoisie in contrast with the generosity and spontaneity of a gathering in Mangueira.

From then on, “people would question why I composed so many songs about social issues,” says Brandão, whose music shed light on themes as diverse as Afro-Brazilian religions, Black feminism, freedom of expression and the Amazon: “I wrote about things that messed with my head. My songs talk, above all, about human behaviour.” In the late 1970s, she was questioned by military authorities as one of her songs encouraged people to watch plays to understand Brazil’s political scene. This atmosphere stirred tensions between Brandão and her label at that time, Polygram, which refused many of her songs. Under growing pressure, Brandão terminated her contract in 1981; it would be more than four years until she released new music.

Brandão also chafed against prevailing conservativism when she came out as gay in a late-70s interview; she also regularly sang about homophobia and the dignity of LGBTQ+ people in songs such as Ombro Amigo, Assumindo and As Pessoas e Eles. While some people were shocked, Brandão was supported by her fellow composers at Mangueira. “People questioned the directors for having me there after I gave that interview. But I stayed in the group as I have always respected everyone and they respected me back,” she says.

And in 1985, the success of her self-titled comeback album kept her as part of the samba institution. In the 1990s, she won the Brazilian Music award for best samba singer, received honorary titles from the city councils of Rio and São Paulo, and became a popular commentator for Brazil’s biggest TV channel’s coverage of samba school carnival parades.

Leci Brandão singing in 2022

Brandão’s links with the world of party politics took root in the 2000s, when she became a councillor on race equality and women’s rights for President Lula’s first government. She performed at his second-term inauguration in 2007, and then, two years later, the Communist party of Brazil invited her to become a candidate for the São Paulo legislative assembly. Brandão built her agenda based on themes she had already spoken about as an artist, including Black culture, gender equality and LGBTQ+ rights. In 2010, she won.

Taking office, however, wasn’t easy in the beginning. “The fact that a samba artist became a lawmaker astonished people,” says Brandão, recalling pejorative comments she often heard in her first term. “Journalists and parliamentarians would ask what the samba gatherings were like in my cabinet!”

But she has persisted, and has spent her political life fighting for progressive artistic expression: in March, Brandão authored and helped approve a bill that adds hip-hop culture to the intangible heritage of São Paulo state. “Hip-hop artists have the wisdom to approach our social problems in a strong, beautiful way,” she says.

Brandão says she hopes to stay healthy for another term and continue a life mission where social justice is a common denominator between samba and politics. “I will keep on fighting for equality and respect,” she says. “I am not a celebrity. I identify as community.”

[ad_2]

Source link

Read More

Colorado Symphony promote Peter Oundjian to music director

[ad_1]

Peter Oundjian previously served as music director for the Toronto Symphony Orchestra and the Royal Scottish National Orchestra.

DENVER — Colorado Symphony Principal Conductor Peter Oundjian will be elevated to music director.

Oundjian has agreed to a four-year contract beginning in the 2025/26 season, the Colorado Symphony Association (CSA) announced Monday.

Oundjian joined the Colorado Symphony as principal conductor prior to the 2022/23 season. He served as the orchestra’s principal guest conductor from 2003 to 2006 and has been a frequent collaborator.

"For many years, it has been my great pleasure to work with the extraordinary musicians of the Colorado Symphony, first as a frequent guest conductor and most recently as their principal conductor," Oundjian said.

"I am profoundly honored to step into the role of music director and to continue our musical journey together," he said. "This new chapter is a thrilling opportunity to deepen our connection with our community, innovate and reach new artistic heights as an orchestra. I look forward to building on our shared successes and bringing dynamic and inspiring performances to Colorado audiences in the years to come."

Oundjian previously had a 14-year tenure as the music director of the Toronto Symphony Orchestra and was at the helm of the Royal Scottish National Orchestra for six years.

With a career spanning five decades, Oundjian began as a solo violinist, and first violinist of the Tokyo String Quartet, followed by an international conducting career leading orchestras in nearly every major musical center in the world.

"We are absolutely delighted to announce Peter Oundjian as music director of the Colorado Symphony," said Mark Cantrell, CSA president and CEO. "Peter's exceptional artistry, visionary leadership, and deep commitment to our musicians and community have been evident throughout his tenure as principal conductor. His promotion marks an exciting new era for our orchestra. We look forward to the innovative and inspiring performances that Peter will undoubtedly bring, and we are confident that his leadership will continue to elevate the Colorado Symphony to new artistic heights."

"Peter Oundjian's appointment as music director is a significant and natural progression for the Colorado Symphony," said Anthony Pierce, chief artistic officer. "Since 2022, his remarkable musicality, dedication, and vision as our principal conductor have profoundly impacted our orchestra. Elevating Peter to music director acknowledges his exceptional leadership and the deep connection he has fostered with our musicians and audiences across Colorado. We are excited to continue this journey with Peter at the helm, inspiring us all to reach even greater levels of excellence."

[ad_2]

Source link

Read More

John Eliot Gardiner starts new orchestra and choir after 2023 assault apology | John Eliot Gardiner

[ad_1]

An internationally renowned conductor who pulled out of the BBC Proms last year after punching and slapping a soloist has started a new orchestra and choir.

Sir John Eliot Gardiner apologised last August after assaulting William Thomas, 29, for allegedly entering the stage incorrectly at the Berlioz festival in France.

On Monday, Gardiner, 81, announced the Constellation Choir and Constellation Orchestra, under the umbrella Springhead Constellation, which will be led by him.

“Since my return to conducting in Montpellier in July, I have been deeply moved and inspired by the extremely warm and enthusiastic messages of support I have received from musicians, presenters and promoters alike,” he said.

“More than anything else, I am so excited and grateful to be working with such exceptional musicians once again, not forgetting the important lessons I have learnt and needed to learn from the past year.”

Gardiner withdrew from engagements and said he was seeking specialist help after hitting Thomas, an English bass who represented England in the Cardiff Singer of the World competition, at a performance of Berlioz’s Les Troyens with the Orchestre Révolutionnaire et Romantique and Monteverdi Choir in La Côte-Saint-André.

In a statement last year, Gardiner apologised unreservedly saying: “I make no excuses for my behaviour and have apologised personally to Will Thomas, for whom I have the greatest respect. I do so again, and to the other artists, for the distress that this has caused …

“I know that physical violence is never acceptable and that musicians should always feel safe. I ask for your patience and understanding as I take time to reflect on my actions.”

A representative for Gardiner said the conductor was suffering from extreme heat in France and suspected a recent change in his medication may have provoked behaviour he now regrets, the Slipped Disc classical music website reported at the time.

In July, the Monteverdi Choir & Orchestras' (MCO) board said it had decided Gardiner would not be returning to the organisation as leader and artistic director.

After he left, more than 100 musicians from the orchestra asked for his return, which the MCO branded a “dirty tricks campaign” against it by a small group.

Gardiner, a two-time Grammy winner, said on Monday: “I made clear when I parted company with the MCO earlier this summer that I was not in any sense ready to retire. I said I would be focusing on a rich variety of new projects.”

Among the players joining his tour will be principal oboist Michael Niesemann, principal viola player Fanny Paccoud, and lead violinist Kati Debretzeni.

They will perform a series of concerts at five venues in Germany, France, Austria and Luxembourg this December, before planning to tour throughout 2025 and into 2026.

The tour is Gardiner’s response to direct personal invitations from the venues to assemble musicians and singers and “bring his unique style and quality of performance to their audiences”, a press release said.

Gardiner was chosen by King Charles, who is a friend, to lead the first 20 minutes of music at the coronation last May.

[ad_2]

Source link

Read More

Girl in Red review – buoyant arena show marks a new chapter | Pop and rock

[ad_1]

Girl in Red is nothing if not refreshingly direct. The Norwegian singer-songwriter’s breakthrough track of 2018 was I Wanna Be Your Girlfriend, a tortured plea for something more from a platonic relationship. “I don’t wanna be your friend, I wanna kiss your lips,” she sang lustfully.

Another early song called Girls spelled things out even more clearly. “I’m not talking about boys, I’m talking about girls,” she specified. It wasn’t long before “do you listen to Girl in Red” became a code to discreetly establish sexual orientation. Marie Ulven’s merch stall still sells cute T-shirts asking the same question.

The title of Ulven’s long-awaited second album, released in April, is also unequivocal, perhaps to a fault: I’m Doing It Again Baby! A track called Doing It Again Baby opens this exuberant arena gig on a strange note that sounds unlike any music she has made before – an awkward attempt at art-funk that climaxes in a banjo breakdown. Charitably, the track’s job is to signal a new era. Ulven jumps around in a baggy suit and tie like a one-woman Boygenius as her all-male band do their best to sell it.

Both the overexcited title and bluegrass swerve can be forgiven, given the context. Three years separate Girl in Red’s debut, If I Could Make It Go Quiet (2021), from its follow-up – an aeon in pop time. Not to pit women against one another but to flesh out the scene: Olivia Rodrigo (pop-punk, relationship angst) and Chappell Roan (queer girl bops) are two not-dissimilar artists who have blossomed in Ulven’s absence.

A quiet song called I’m Back, sung at a bright red plastic block that conceals a piano, explains Girl in Red’s hiatus succinctly: “I was gone for a minute cos I went to get help.” Mid-ramble about pop star Charlie Puth, Ulven messes up the start of the song, quickly forgiving herself. “This song is literally about fucking up and being good again.”

She may have become an instant LGBTQ+ icon, but Ulven also set out another early stall singing about her own anxiety and intrusive thoughts. It brought her a constituency beyond queer young gen Z women. Serotonin, her ubiquitous 2021 hit, contained another series of typically brave, bald statements. “I’m running low on serotonin,” she sang. “I’m terrified of what’s inside.”

A lot transpired in the 36 months that separate Quiet from Baby! As well as taking time out to tend to her mental health, Ulven fell in love, got a dog and said “yes” to invitations more often, a habit that climaxed in opening for Taylor Swift on last year’s North American leg of the Eras tour. It gave the confessional bedroom pop-punk queen a taste for the bigger halls.

Girl in Red in command at Ovo Arena Wembley. Photograph: Isak Jenssen

The messaging on this new album is: I’m so much better now, thank you. And although Ulven still reaches for her old indie-rock toolkit from time to time, I’m Doing It Again Baby! takes Girl in Red’s sound more mainstream.

The new songs send stylistic shoots out in several directions, not quite nailing the difficult second album problem. A complete aesthetic overhaul – like the one Billie Eilish performed for her happier (but not really) second album – might have landed more authoritatively. Judging from the activity in the crowd, most people’s allegiances remain with Girl in Red’s older work.

But Ulven’s songwriting nous remains undimmed; there are plenty of keepers here. New Love tries on 80s pop-rock with panache, examining an ex’s perspective. Pick Me is bang on brand, a piano ballad in which she angsts about male competition in love. Everyone waves their phone torches in approval.

Girl in Red’s pop glow-up is perhaps best summed up in the unexpected Sabrina Carpenter guest spot on You Need Me Now?, a dissection of a relationship gone wrong. Tonight, Ulven mock-introduces Carpenter – who isn’t here – then shouts “psych!”, getting the crowd to sing Carpenter’s part.

As the performance rolls on, it becomes less about Girl in Red showcasing her new record and more about Ulven herself – remaining charismatic, scatty and fan-friendly despite the uptick in seating. She signs someone’s tie while security attend to an ailing audience member. Three fan phones spell out “PLAY FOUR AM” on their screens – and she does. A handful of tributes make their way successfully to the stage: homemade flags, a hand-drawn portrait of Ulven, and a tie that contains a graphic image of “a lady spreading her legs” folded up inside. Ulven sticks the picture to the piano. “I can’t read sheet music but I can read this shit,” she guffaws.

Her set still ends with I Wanna Be Your Girlfriend, and a journey into the maw of the crowd. Girl in Red’s is, perhaps, the least lethal “wall of death” – a divided moshpit clashing together on command – in rock, but it’s one that restores your faith in other people. As Ulven disappears, still singing, into a tangle of arms and phones, it’s clear she is going to be OK on more than one level.

[ad_2]

Source link

Read More

La Scala revamps its opera subtitles with 8-language interactive tablets

[ad_1]

‘s new 8-language subtitles, photo Brescia e Amisano, Teatro alla Scala 2024

When La Scala reopens its doors tomorrow after the summer closure the audience will find tablets fitted in front of their seat. This means behind the seat in front, in most cases.

It is part of a series of improvements and enhancements coming twenty years after the theatre’s major refurbishment which concluded in 2004.

The mini-screens used until July could only show two languages, and spare parts to repair them were no longer available and so some remained dark. The new system will offer five languages – Italian, English, French, German and Spanish – with the possibility of arriving at eight languages in total. Chinese will be added for the titles broadcast by LaScalaTv in China.

The new system employs 8-inch touchscreen tablets. There will be 1,944 in the auditorium – 680 in the stalls, 784 in the boxes, 480 in the galleries, as well as 6 monitors for those in standing room in the second gallery. To avoid disturbing patrons nearby, the screens have a black background with a polarised filter to allow front vision while limiting side viewing. The new tablets will be able to be used before the show and during intervals to provide information for the public and with interactive features such as booking at the box office or ordering at the bar. In addition, as part of the theatre’s inclusion policy, there will be audio access for deaf spectators.

Work in the lower part of the theatre has been completed, but a ‘LED wall’ for subtitles has been suspended above the stage until the entire theatre has been fitted out.

La Scala has been undergoing much work to improve acoustics, to renovate the seats in the stalls and some parts of the foyers, with new seats in the theatre’s boxes. Work has also started on restoring the façade of the theatre which will last a year.

[ad_2]

Source link

Read More

Prom 61: Bavarian Radio Symphony Orch/Rattle review – rich and rewarding Adès, graceful Bruckner | Classical music

[ad_1]

It’s a brave composer that goes head-to-head with Anton Bruckner in his bicentenary year, especially when a German band is in town. That Thomas Adès’s Aquifer, led by Simon Rattle making his first Proms appearance as chief conductor of the Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra, held its own is a testament to two of Britain’s most consistently original talents.

Aquifer, here receiving its UK premiere, takes its name from an underground layer of permeable rock through which water seeps and flows. Adès’s music duly oozes and gushes, with string lines that echo waveforms, brass tectonics that slither and slide, and woodwind that seems to bubble up through the cracks.

Rattle unerringly located the music’s sweet spot, teasing out its effervescent hues – like the propulsive opening dappled with tubular bells and vibraphone – and honing its climaxes. It can be urgent, but it can be jaunty too, with a recurring horn theme that John Williams might be proud to call his own. One thing that’s certain, though, it’s seldom still. And for all the surface flamboyance, it’s a rich, rewarding and thoroughly mature work that feels tantalisingly familiar even when it’s being entirely novel.

Rattle’s subsequent onstage presentation of the Royal Philharmonic Society’s gold medal to the deserving, yet endearingly taciturn composer capped a memorable first half.

Performances of Bruckner symphonies can sometimes feel predictable, the only question being just how loud and drawn-out do you like your climaxes? Not here. Rattle has peered deeply into the score of the “Romantic” Fourth Symphony and discovered something fresh and new. The result was an interpretation that was light on its feet and imbued with a grace and lucidity rarely associated with this composer.

Instead of channelling Wagner, whose influence looms over Bruckner’s Third Symphony, Rattle brought out the Brahms in the Austrian composer’s music, his knack for orchestral balance and musical storytelling impeccable. The orchestra was elegance personified, their elfin touch sending shivers up the spine in what must be some of the most daring pianissimos ever heard in the Albert Hall, let alone in a Bruckner symphony. And yet the tension never flagged in a truly remarkable performance that held the audience spellbound.

[ad_2]

Source link

Read More
TOP