Hagen Quartet, Wigmore Hall

★★★★ HAGEN QUARTET, WIGMORE HALL Direct and focussed readings shine new light on Schubert and Beethoven

Direct and focussed readings shine new light on Schubert and Beethoven

The Hagen Quartet has been playing together for decades, and it shows. The group, which includes three siblings, performs with a deep and intuitive sense of unity: of timbre, technique, articulation and intent. Where most quartets are clearly led by the first violin, the Hagens move as one, the motivation coming simultaneously from each player. They put this finely honed ensemble to the service of emotive performances, but also retain a sense of intimacy and proportion.

Stoller Hall Opening, Chetham's School of Music, Manchester

New performance venue christened with a high-spirited weekend

The opening of a new concert hall offers two options for opinionizing: the venue itself – or the performances in it? Review the acoustics – or the music? It has to be a mixture of the two, in the end. Chetham’s School of Music, in Manchester, has just celebrated (and seen opened by HRH Prince Edward) its £8.7m Stoller Hall – a state-of-the-art, 482-seat performance venue in the heart of Manchester, right next to Victoria Station.

theartsdesk Q&A: Horn-player Alec Frank-Gemmill

THE ARTS DESK Q&A: HORN-PLAYER ALEC FRANK-GEMMILL Four horns, four pianos, one CD; an original among musicians tells us why, and more

Four horns, four pianos, one CD; an original among musicians tells us why, and more

Traditional musical formats rarely suit the individual talent, but the highly-motivated player always finds a way. I first got to talk to Alec Frank-Gemmill in the very sociable surroundings of the Pärnu Festival in Estonia, a gathering most musicians describe as the highlight of their year, with the phenomenal Estonian Festival Orchestra brought together by Paavo Järvi as its core. Frank-Gemmill's secure base is the Scottish Chamber Orchestra, another army of unusual generals. His solo engagements take him to extraordinary places, and thanks to the long-term support of the Borletti-Buitoni Trust, an organisation whose roster of young musicians reads like a musical who's who, he's just been able to record a horn and piano recital with a difference.

The subtitle of the disc, reviewed today on theartsdesk by fellow horn-player Graham Rickson, tells of its idiosyncrasy: "Music for horns and pianos of the 19th century". In other words two natural, two valve horns, and pianos by Lagrassa, Streicher, Blüthner and Bechstein. It's a captivating CD, unusually amenable for a recital to listening through at a single sitting; I've already played it four times. And it justifies the unique possibilities of the recorded format. Frank-Gemmill has also made individual commentaries on each of the pieces, which punctuate the interview.  He told me about the motivation, and the larger question of orchestral versus solo work, on his lunch break from work as a professor at the Guildhall School of Music and Drama.

DAVID NICE A normal horn and piano disc could be monotonous, but your idea of varying the horns and varying the pianos too – that must have taken a lot of thought and work.

ALEC FRANK-GEMMILL Well, there's so many CDs out there. I could see the point – I'm interested in hearing other horn players and their interpretations, but there aren't that many differences between players of any instrument these days, and if you aim to do something different for the sake of it, that could be quite cheap. But to do this is actually providing some historical context, and was just a means for me to do something new. So it is hopefully in some way original and worth doing.

Alec Frank-GemmillI think actually – well, not in the case of all the pieces, not the later ones like [Glazunov's] Rêverie – with the other ones you could find on the internet each individual track [done authentically] and shove them together, however you wouldn't get the same person playing, so you wouldn't really be able to compare the sounds. Also my interpretations were based in part on what the horn wanted to do. That was part of the inspiration – I'm trying to make a distinction, not to do something definitive or claim it's the right way, but just for me to present it, so if this horn wants to play the piece like that and it's a horn I know the composer would have recognised, then that immediately inspires me to do something in a particular way, rather than – say, if I'd been born 30 years earlier, I might fall into the trap of saying, this is how it went then. And these 19th century horns are so different to each other – even a horn made in Paris in 1820 to the same design as one made in Berlin, that could change the sound utterly, so it's sort of a nod to authentic ideas. I'm not suggesting that this is the definitive recording, but I'm suggesting that it is something which could maybe enlighten us about how it might have sounded, so to that degree it is historical.

...And how you can actually physically play, because if you've got weak and strong notes on the natural horn, it dictates the tempo...

Absolutely. For me, that was a joy. But I'm sure if I'd come to the disc as a different sort of player who already likes his particular tempos, it would have felt like a hindrance. So for me it was lovely, it gave the pieces some new reasons to be done. Especially on disc, because then you can sit down from beginning to end and hear the different sounds.

And it makes a fine programme, too.

Yes, it was nice because I could choose all the best pieces from the 19th century, rather than just thinking, oh, this has been done a million times. [Schumann's] Adagio and Allegro, someone has played it on a modern Vienna horn, and I think there's a recording somewhere on an old Vienna horn. They are very similar instruments, but rather like horns made now instead of in 1905, they are bigger and more orchestral and fatter and less intimate. That Beethoven Horn Sonata, quite a few people have recorded that now on natural horn.

Do they get the flourishes as well as you do at the end of the first movement, those fantastic arpeggios?

Well you know, that bit on natural horn just works – I didn't have to practice. That's lovely because it doesn't just feel like an easy piece with a couple of hard bars, it feels like a nice piece and you're just working on how to phrase it. [Below: the first of four films in which Frank-Gemmill introduces the different 19th century horns on the disc]

Do you have a particular favourite sound amongst all those?

I think it's totally subjective – it's clouded by what I found a struggle and what came easily. Probably my favourite thing is the Rossini [Prelude, Theme and Variations], because I never liked the piece before this disc, and I find it really attractive now played on the natural horn. But maybe with a bit more distance, the Rêverie sounds so right on that horn with an old fashioned, almost proto-Hollywoodesque sort of warmth but also a bit of clunkiness – ahh, it was so nice to play that piece like that!

The essence of the horn to me is the warm, rounded Brahms sound – how do you feel about that now?

I touch very briefly on that in the notes [in the CD booklet, excellent] when I talk about Franz Strauss, because we now have the view of what the horn is, and these pieces might give a slightly different perspective; but I agree, that's why we all took up the horn, and I think that's the universally appealing, romantic, deep sound, and Brahms understood that immediately. But what's interesting about Brahms is that he often preferred the natural horn because it got closer to that, and probably in the 19th century – I've only just thought of this since you said that – maybe the whole development was about finding the esence of what the horn is in the romantic era. And now you can buy horns that are much harder to miss notes on. I think I could play on those because I've got my own job and I could just decide what technology I wanted, but I wouldn't let any of my students play them. Because it's not what the horn is – some of the beauty of it is to do with the struggle. The natural horn is of course much harder than the modern horn, but then when you do manage, it's that much more beautiful as well. Actually, that's bad advice, better not think that [big laugh].

When you were studying, was there a particular sound you were aiming for, or you were told to aim for by your teacher?

I could be swayed a bit more easily at the time. And like a lot of people I took up the horn because of Dennis Brain, and that sound – you couldn't really be employed making the kind of sound he made. Well, you could as a soloist, I suppose, but you would be out on the lunatic fringe. Which might be quite nice. Then my problem, or my luck, is that I feel inspired by different orchestras and different players in different repertoire, so I don't have any idol for every single piece, and maybe half my problem but half my success has been searching to the n-th degree for a particular way of playing a particular composer with a particular sound.

But that's the ideal, isn't it, it's about the music and not about the player...

Exactly. But some of my teachers were astonishing. Anyway, I love listening to the Vienna Phil playing Mahler, I love listening to the LSO playing Mahler, then probably hearing the Scottish Chamber Orchestra in a Mozart symphony

There are lots of orchestras doing brilliant things all the time but I have my particular tastes. It's funny because sometimes orchestras ring you up and offer you work, or even offer you a concerto, and they don't say we'd like this concerto, or this patch of work is this composer, and you think, I don't know if I want to do this, because what if it's my least favourite Shostakovich symphony with nothing to do in it, or what if it's Mahler Nine, that seems crazy to me. At some point you've got to earn money, but I'd quite like to earn money and pick and choose my favourite music.

Next page: on future options, the music not the player, and more on the choices of horns and pianos

Maurizio Pollini, RFH

★★★ MAURIZIO POLLINI, RFH The old Pollini magic shines through despite ailing technique

The old Pollini magic shines through despite ailing technique

Age is finally catching up with Maurizio Pollini. This recital was one of a series to mark the pianist’s 75th birthday, presenting Beethoven piano sonatas, music at the core of his repertoire. His legendary status was justified by these readings, his usual combination of rich, robust voicing and elegant, craggy lyricism. But the technical problems were too apparent to ignore, especially the uneven passagework and clumsy transitions.

10 Questions for Conductor Paavo Järvi

10 QUESTIONS FOR PARVO JÄRVI On conducting in London and Tokyo (and Estonia)

Following in the family tradition, a musical Estonian on London and Tokyo orchestras

Now at the very top of his game and master of sundry great orchestras around the world, Paavo Järvi is the conductor students of the art like to follow for his perfect technique. Time was when he seemed like the cooler version of his peerless father Neeme; now, if he can still at times come across as more cerebral than his impetuous but also excellent younger brother Kristjan, he often seems touched by the kind of inspiration Neeme maintains in his 80th year.

They work together under Utopian circumstances every summer with the superband Estonian Festival Orchestra and the promising trainees of the Academy Orchestra in the idyllic Estonian seaside town of Pärnu, which is where I’ve spent most time with Paavo and got to know his clubbable ways. We met most recently the morning after the last concert in his Nielsen series at the Royal Festival Hall with the Philharmonia Orchestra, with whom he has a special understanding. Even so, there isn’t the luxury of so much time to work together and their performance of the Sixth Symphony, ironically nicknamed the “Semplice” or “Simple”, while perfect in conception, could have done with a rehearsal or two more to give the Philharmonia strings a chance to blaze. The ethos of the first half, on the other hand, struck me as very rare in London: not just perfect teamwork but a congeniality shared with the audience and communicated, I think, to all - initiated by the conductor in a hyper-elegant Haydn "Clock" Symphony, enhanced in Beethoven's Triple Concerto by the well-bonded trio of violinist Christian Tetzlaff, his cellist sister Tanja and their friend the pianist Lars Vogt.

The upshot of a fine evening attended by most of the musical Estonians in London was a rather too jolly night on the town, so that when I turned up at Paavo’s Notting Hill flat the following morning, there was no answer. After an entertaining 20 minutes with the music-lover who’d steered him home but still couldn’t get a reply any more than I could, he surfaced, very apologetic. Our chat was friendly as always, but rather disrupted by the next arrival, and so this is a snapshot, mostly of impressions from the previous evening, which give some indication of his general approach as drawn from the specific. We moved eventually from the London concert to the prospect of his next appearance here as Chief Conductor of the NHK Symphony Orchestra Tokyo (pictured below by Takao Hashimoto: on the Berlin leg of their tour; Graham Rickson reviews their new Strauss disc in his Classical CDs roundup today).NHK Symphony Orchestra and Jarvi in Berlin

DAVID NICE: It was quite a shock to be reminded of the horrors of this week [Trumpery and unrest elsewhere] by the explosions of Nielsen’s first movement. I’d forgotten about them completely, transported into that world of lightness and humour you sustained in the first half. I laughed a lot and smiled all the way through the Haydn and the Beethoven Triple Concerto. That was the second late Haydn symphony I've heard you conduct the Philharmonia in - do you think there's a special affinity there?

PAAVO JÄRVI: I think any orchestra that wants to be seen as a serious contender in being a great exponent of the repertoire has to have some kind of familiarity with Haydn. That symphony or any other symphony of his, out of that comes everything else that we are symphonically proud of or impressed by - Beethoven, Mozart, Schubert, that is a kind of a blueprint for a symphony. And it's so witty and joyful and everything you need to have in a symphony, including unusual orchestration - and you have this fugue in Nielsen, and before that a fugue in Haydn, and before that... where does it all come from? Nielsen in the 1920s years later shows how far the symphony has come from the basics to the midst of a corrupted world, even if in the "Semplice" it's a world that starts out fine on the surface. Each variation in the finale is corrupted and stripped of its dignity.

In a way that's the Nielsen symphony that should be called the "Inextinguishable", because of the way in the first movement there are endless pile-ups and he just picks himself up and starts again. It's astonishingly modern in its fragmentation and sudden violence, isn't it?

Yes, it gets destroyed and starts up again and again and again. It's interesting that we have this tendency to think of these modernists who changed the world, I'm talking about after Stravinsky, Boulez for example. This piece was written in 1925; nothing that's been created since has come close to the originality and the daring newness of the things he describes.

Could you describe it as post-modernist?

Yes, exactly, but the funny thing is that modernism hasn't happened yet. This is genius.

I've never found any proof that Shostakovich knew Nielsen's Sixth, but I hear direct parallels in the dance sequence of his Fourth Symphony composed a decade later, where he even seems to quote Nielsen's finale in one galop, and in the innocent way - also with a glockenspiel - his Fifteenth Symphony of 1971 begins. What do you think of that possibility?

Maybe he would have seen a score. But I'm not so sure. If you think of people asking, "what is the simplest and purest thing?" the answer has to be that it's a bell. I think it's arriving at the same conclusion. Sometimes scientists arrive at the same conclusion simultaneously from different places. I don't think any one of them would have taken anything. One thing's for sure, both Nielsen and Shostakovich can seem crazy in those works. Sometimes you can be too crazy for people to accept the new. It's a funny thing, I know a lot of violinists who never play the Nielsen Concerto. They play Dutilleux, other 20th-century works. Why not the Nielsen? Somehow at one point teachers say it's not really great music. Of course it is. But they have been taught or convinced that it's not worth their time. At the same time they do play Shostakovich Second.

It's an obligatory work at the Nielsen Competition in Odense, but that's a Danish thing.

Thank God, because at least violinists have experience of doing it – it’s a great concerto.Paavo Jarvi Kaupo KikkasWas it quite hard getting the Philharmonia into shape in a relatively short period of time for playing the "Semplice"? Because the violin writing especially is so hard.

They are so amazing, they're a sensational orchestra, a typical London orchestra where it's every week a new thing to play, it's not important what you play, whether you understand it or not, because there's not time to digest it. An orchestra which plays a Dvořák symphony, it's great, because they know and understand it, whereas if you put something in front of them like this, they will bring all their skill to it, but do they understand what they play? No. But then they're willing, and after a couple of rehearsals you begin to get results.

The responsibility's yours.

Yes, but they're so good and so unbelievably willing. I don't know, I must say I'm incredibly proud that we did all six Nielsen symphonies in London where everything is about box office and attendance, OK we didn't have a sold-out house, but at least there was a sense of proper enjoyment. In other places it would have been empty after the first bar. I think it was also a bit of congratulation, thank you that you did it. I think every Nielsen lover in Britain was there.

What we saw last night is this very genuine communicative rapport, front desk, smiling.

I must say I'm so humbled by the fact that these hardcore, hard-working London musicians, great as they are, and they're not very well paid, but to see them having fun and going for it, that's one of the best things you can imagine, enjoyment in this nightmare of a symphony where you don't know what's going on, nobody can relate to anything technically or rely on anything for a little bit.

The more rehearsals you have the freer you would be.

It's not so much rehearsal but a couple of performances, one or two, before you come to London, because it's like preparing yourself for jumping out of a plane, you can't academically prepare yourself, just jump, and after you go through it, once or twice, it's not about knowing how it is, it's just one of those things you have to have experience of doing, and thank God I had the concert in Stockholm the night before, that is so important. They gave a very good concert, I'm not talking about using them as guinea pigs, but after the first experience the second is an entirely different one.

You know it well.

But they'd never played it. As much as people say, we don't need a conductor or whatever, that's a symphony where they need one. They can do a Haydn by themselves, not as well, but they can. Every variation in Nielsen's finale needs to be conducted with total organisation. I'm glad you liked the swift bringing-in of the fanfares at the end. What else can happen? How weird can we get now? Let's bring in a fanfare. It's genius.Tetzlaffs and Lars VogtThere was something special about the performance of the Beethoven Triple Concerto last night (pictured above by Giorgia Bertazzi: Lars Vogt and Tanja and Christian Tetzlaff), would you agree? I've never enjoyed it so much - in fact I've hardly enjoyed it at all before.

Usually what happens is that you have three musicians coming from three different continents coming together and playing. And it sounds OK, but it doesn't sound like anyone knows each other, that they have a concept, that they have had time to work. This is a family. Two of them are siblings and Lars should basically be called their brother - that's how I introduced him, as a joke. I've known them for 20 years. Tanja is principal cellist in the [Deutsche] Kammerphilharmonie [Bremen, where Paavo is Artistic Director], and that's why they have an intimate knowledge of each other, it's one of those things, otherwise everybody starts and it flows along like a stream..

But it's not top-notch Beethoven, is it?

I think it is. That slow movement, if it's really played fully, I think it's moving. If it's just played OK, I agree, it sounds bland. I grew up with teachers telling me it's not as great as the Violin Concerto. Christian Tetzlaff made certain nuances yesterday, little timing things, dramatic things - that made it great music because it was great music-making. As for the orchestra, when you have soloists who are so in tune with each other, it's infectious. You always connect with them.

Your second disc of Strauss with the NHK Symphony Orchestra, which you're bringing to London, has a very special quality about it, a focused, gleaming sound. Did you work hard on that?

Yes, and I believe Ein Heldenleben is a good way of introducing this orchestra. I discussed with my father once how this is a piece about gestures. And the gestures often come out, but half the notes aren't there. Here you hear every note. And this is seriously sophisticated playing. Why do we never find the NHK Symphony Orchestra placed among the top orchestras of the world? It's always Berlin, Amsterdam, Vienna, the Czech Phil. But I would seriously place them among the top five. You know, there's this cliched thinking that oriental musicians lack feeling. I don't think that's true at all. But in any case many of the NHK players studied in western conservatoires, so they come back after some time and they bring those attitudes with them. Besides, there is an extremely strong connection there with the great Austro-German tradition which dates back far further than people think. Wolfgang Sawallisch worked with the NHK a lot, and Karl Böhm was a regular visitor to Japan. (Pictured below by Takao Hashimoto: Paavo coming on stage to conduct the NHK Symphony Orchestra in Berlin)Paavo Jarvi and NHK Orchestra in BerlinI remember when we first met 30 years ago in Notting Hill, it was still in the days of the fax machine and faxes were coming through from your father discussing recordings you'd both listened to, or recommending performances you must hear. Is the relationship still similar?

Oh, it's fantastic. I always get on the phone to him if I have doubts about how a movement should go, or else I try things out with him. He's still my best guide and mentor.

You're at the very top of your game now. Is there anything you want to do that you haven't achieved yet?

I think my schedule is too full - I need to stop going everywhere, it isn't necessary. But I do treasure the relationships I have with my main orchestras and I'm always happy to see them. If I would change anything, it would be to cut down on concert-giving to a degree so that I can concentrate on special projects. You know what we have in Pärnu [with the Estonian Festival Orchestra] - this is something that can't be found anywhere else. I'd hope for more along those lines.

Next page: watch Paavo Järvi conduct the Estonian Festival Orchestra in Nielsen's Second Symphony

Farewell, Stanisław Skrowaczewski (1923-2017)

FAREWELL, STANISLAW SKROWACZEWSKI (1921-2017) A tribute to the conductor and composer who has died at the age of 93

A tribute to the conductor and composer who has died at the age of 93

Bruckner conductors improve with age: Haitink, Blomstedt, Gielen – octogenarians all. But Stanisław Skrowaczewski went further, conducting his favourite composer almost to his death, this week at the age of 93. And more than any of his contemporaries, he seemed to embody the Brucknerian qualities of wisdom, experience and patience. A glorious Indian summer brought his work to a new generation, as, apparently oblivious to physical frailty, he toured extensively, in his last years appearing with the world’s top orchestras.

Skrowaczewski was born in Lwów, then in Poland, now Ukraine, in 1923. A musical polymath, he took a long route to the podium, starting out as a pianist and, when a wartime hand injury forced a change of direction, turning to composition. In the late 1940s, he established a reputation in Poland as a conductor through his work with the Katowice Philharmonic, the Krakow Philharmonic and the Warsaw National Orchestra. His international career took off in America, first through an invitation from George Szell to conduct the Cleveland Orchestra and later, in 1960, with his appointment as Music Director of the Minneapolis Symphony (now the Minnesota Orchestra). That relationship was long and fruitful, with Skrowaczewski retaining a position with the orchestra (from 1979 as conductor laureate) right up to his death, an astonishing 56 years. And when, in 2012, the Minnesota players became involved in a bitter management dispute, leading to a 16-month lock-out, they found a high-profile champion in Stan, as he was affectionately known in the Twin Cities. Skrowaczewski led an unofficial concert during the dispute, and also the first concert back under official management when it was settled.

After standing down the main Music Director position in Minneapolis, Skrowaczewski took over the Hallé Orchestra for a decade from 1982, and he is still fondly remembered in Manchester. Composition occupied an increasing amount of his time from the mid-90s, although from 2007 to 2010 he was Principal Conductor of the Yomiuri Nippon Symphony Orchestra in Tokyo, and in the last years of his life toured extensively, continuing to perform with the Minnesota Orchestra and many other American orchestras, as well as making regular appearances in Europe, including regular returns to Poland, the country now taking huge pride in its long absent son.

Skrowaczewski BrucknerSo what makes Skrowaczewski’s Bruckner special? At the most basic level, it all works, and with a rigorous but intuitive inner logic. Skrowaczewski knew how to deal with the awkward joins and unconvincing transitions in the early symphonies, finding the straightforward answers that eluded Bruckner himself in his many revisions. He had an ability to bring out the grandeur of Bruckner’s writing, but without excess. There is no grandstanding here, no bombast. Climaxes would often be presented in swift tempos, and with carefully shaped and separated phrases, the results innately musical and deeply felt, but never overly controlled or restrained. Skrowaczewski also found subtext in Bruckner’s music, where others present it at face value. His last UK appearance was with the London Philharmonic in October last year, in a performance of the Fifth Symphony. The blurb on the back of the inevitable own-label release (LPO-0090) described the finale as "an interpretation of humility," and so it was. Skrowaczewski seemed awed by Bruckner’s chorale ending, but also shaded it with a very human sense of scale and proportion – the divine, yes, but expressed through humble means. Skrowaczewski leaves us a complete Bruckner symphonies cycle with the Saarbrücken Radio Orchestra recorded 1991-2001 (reissued in 2015 as OEHMS 25), a Ninth with Minnesota and, with the London Philharmonic, Symphonies Three, Five and Seven – the LPO Third Symphony (LPO 84) the finest of these.

Not that Skrowaczewski was solely a Bruckner specialist; his currently-available discography runs to 22 composers. His recordings with the Saarbrücken orchestra include a Beethoven symphony cycle (OEHMS 526), a real slow burner. The recordings received little attention when they were first released, in 2005-07, but they have a habit of turning up on desert-island lists and critics’ top choices. As in his Bruckner, Skrowaczewski applies a lightness of touch to Beethoven, but also a sense of unshakable inner logic. The Fourth is a gem.

He was also a passionate advocate of modern music. One of Skrowaczewski’s earliest accolades was conducting the first Paris performance of Shostakovich’s Fifth Symphony, in 1948 when it was new music. In Poland, Skrowaczewski had been a close friend of Lutosławski, whose music he championed throughout his life, culminating in an impressive live recording of the First Symphony and Concerto for Orchestra in 2014 with the NFM Wrocław Philharmonic Orchestra (Accord 196-2). Skrowaczewski never lost his curiosity for new and adventurous repertoire: What may have been his final appearance in Poland, a concert at the new hall in Katowice last November, opened with Schnittke’s seldom-performed Concerto for Piano and Orchestra (the early one, 1960), with long-time collaborator Ewa Kupiec.

In the long term we may remember him more as a composer. Such were the fates of Berlioz and Mahler, both better-known in their lifetimes as conductors of other composer’s work. Skrowaczewski the composer is very similar in spirit to Skrowaczewski the conductor, addressing weighty matters, but with lightness of touch and economy of means. His style is somewhere between Lutosławski and Bruckner. Try his Concerto for Orchestra, a finalist for the 1999 Pulitzer Prize; the surface textures are energetic and modern, while the underlying structure and spiritual breadth are pure Bruckner: The final movement is entitled "Anton Bruckners Himmelfahrt" ("Anton Brucker's Journey to Heaven"). Most of Skrowaczewski’s major compositions were recorded for the Reference and Albany labels, with the composer himself leading the Minnesota and Saarbrücken orchestras, definitive accounts that will surely be his lasting legacy.

@saquabote

Next page: an in-depth 2012 interview with Skrowaczewski

Grosvenor, BBCPO, Gernon, Bridgewater Hall, Manchester

GROSVENOR, BBCPO, GERNON, BRIDGEWATER HALL, MANCHESTER A striking debut for a new Principal Guest Conductor

A striking debut for a new Principal Guest Conductor

Two young guys called Ben graced the BBC Philharmonic platform at the Bridgewater Hall – looking almost like Ant and Dec if you let your imagination wander. Ben Gernon, 27, had just been announced as the orchestra’s new Principal Guest Conductor (while predecessor John Storgårds now rejoices in the title of Chief Guest Conductor … it almost seems a bout of alternative facts is coming on), and this was his Bridgewater Hall début.

Elisabeth Leonskaja, Wigmore Hall

ELISABETH LEONSKAJA, WIGMORE HALL Magisterial turbulence in Beethoven and Brahms, serene good humour in Schubert

Magisterial turbulence in Beethoven and Brahms, serene good humour in Schubert

Restlessness in a good sense was the keynote of Elisabeth Leonskaja's latest revelatory recital. At 71, the Russian pianist, now an Austrian citizen, has all the supreme mastery it takes to make the volatility work: perfect weight and balance, miraculous rhythmic articulation, the right sense of space and freedom, and the ability to see where a line or a movement is going.

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