Centenary Remembrance Concert

Perth Symphonic Chorus

Armistice Choir

Perth Philharmonic Orchestra

Perth Concert Hall

reviewed by Neville Cohn

 

It could not have been a more solemn occasion: a performance devoted to the fallen in World War I exactly one hundred years to the day

since the curtain finally came down on a hideously prolonged battle that saw the death and disablement of millions.

copyright Treffpunkt WA

As we listened to The Ode of Remembrance and bugler David Scott playing The Last Post, there was a minute of almost palpable silence to reflect on the

slaughter that was World War 1. Then, as the Australian national anthem was sung by the choirs and a capacity audience, the thoughts of most would surely have focussed on the dreadful events of the years 1914 to 1918. Significantly adding to the memorial atmosphere was the fact that the 4pm start of the concert coincided with 9am in France, that being 100 years to the hour since the Armistice was announced by Prime Minister Clemenceau of France – and the concert’s end at 6pm coincided with the cessation of hostilities in France precisely 100 years before.

Then, Faure’s Requiem, its inherent melancholy revealed to a degree I cannot recall experiencing before. And it was listened to in an almost reverential silence.

Dr Pride has devoted her life to choral training and performance – and in this account of Faure’s masterpiece, the Requiem moved me as never before – no mean achievement given I’ve long lost count of the number of times I’ve listened to the work. From first note to last, Pride, as ever in complete control of her forces, did wonders, coaxing responses which brimmed with the sort of insights that come from a lifetime’s association with the setting. And the Requiem worked its melancholy magic as never before.

copyright Treffpunkt WA

Violins, of course, do not feature in the work, their absence giving the string complement a rather darker sonic quality, wholly in keeping with the mood of the work. Soprano Sara Macliver was in her element here. She sang most movingly, again and again taking up an interpretative position at the emotional epicentre of whatever she sang. What a precious musical asset this soprano has been over the decades, not only to Perth but Australia as a whole.  Christopher Richardson, too, sang with consistent expressiveness and a very real understanding of the text uttered so clearly – but from time to time  rather higher decibel levels might to advantage have allowed his voice to be more emphatically projected towards the rear of the venue.

Millions of the armed forces died in this dreadful war. But there were other deaths, too – of animals ranging from homing pigeons and dogs to horses, each involved in the war effort. The most famous from an Australian perspective was the charge of the 4th Light Horse Brigade which captured Beersheba from the Turks. So it was entirely appropriate that, early in the program, a horse was ushered on-stage: Indie, rider Phil Dennis from the Kelmscott – Pinjarra 10 Lighthorse Troop. Indie, behaving impeccably, munched carrots.

Also on a memorable program was Vaughan Williams’ Dona Nobis Pacem.

 

 

 

 

 

Australian String Quartet

Government House Ballroom

review by Neville Cohn

 

It was a fascinating experience listening to James Ledger’s String Quartet No 2. It was played by the visiting Australian String Quartet which is giving the work its world premiere performances on its current tour of Australia.

When it comes to predicting success or otherwise for compositions being given their first performances, critics have a terribly unreliable reputation. Music history brims with instances of critics giving the thumbs up for this or that new work but in very many instances, these compositions extolled as works of genius have quietly sunk into oblivion.

On the other hand, there’s many a new work which critics have slammed for any of a long list of reasons – and an embarrassingly high number of these critically panned works have gone on to universal recognition as masterworks! Consider just a few of those which were initially given the thumbs down: Puccini’s La Boheme (“silly and inconsequential”), Tosca (“distinctly raw-boned and hideous”), Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring (“baffles verbal description:, “to say that much of it is hideous as sound is a mild description”), Gershwin’s Rhapsody in Blue (”trite, feeble, conventional – fussy and futile counterpoint”). The list is very long.

This notwithstanding, and while not a betting man as a rule, I’d put money on Ledger’s latest offering.

As pointed out in a useful program note, each instrument plays into its own microphone, the sound travelling to a computer where it undergoes a series of manipulations whereby the sound is recorded and instantly played back in a continuous, repeating loop. This is the essence of the work’s electronic dimension. The loop alters in a number of ways according to the score. The beauty of this process is the discreet manner in which electronics are utilised. They never dominate proceedings but complement the players’ contributions in the most effective ways. The combined effect is consistently pleasing, often fascinating, with Adele Conlin doing wonders as electronics cum sound engineer positioned at the rear of the hall.

I’d really like to listen to this work again because there was so much intriguing detail here, that it wasn’t possible to assimilate it at a single hearing. It certainly deserves the widest listenership. Hopefully, it will soon become available on CD.

Schubert’s Rosamunde Quartet opened the program. Incredibly, this was the only chamber work of Schubert’s that received a public performance during his tragically short lifetime. Knowing this, it is impossible to listen to the work and remain unmoved by the sheer unfairness and tragedy of the composer’s all-too-short life.

How beautifully it was played by the ASQ. I particularly admired the andante movement unfolding seamlessly with notes clothed in splendid corporate tone. There was excellent internal balance here. Most importantly, its poignancy was impeccably evoked. And the bittersweet essence of the Menuetto was no less convincingly conveyed. The finale was essayed with high finesse.

Photographer: Samuel Jozeps   Australian String Quartet with Adele Conlin (3rd from left) and James Ledger (2nd from right)
Photographer: Samuel Jozeps
Australian String Quartet with Adele Conlin (3rd from left) and James Ledger (2nd from right)

 

Prior to the concert and during the interval, finest cheeses and biscuits on exquisite, white napery were available to concertgoers in the ballroom’s undercroft.

CONCERT W.A.Symphony Orchestra

 

Perth Concert Hall

reviewed by Neville Cohn.

 

Cedric Tiberghien is a highly accomplished pianist. I recall with please his stunningly fine accounts of some of Messiaen’s most complex works at a Perth Festival some years ago. His flawless fingers are up to any challenge – and this was again very much the case in Rachmaninov’s Piano Concerto No 3. Only the most skilled of musicians would dare essay a work such as this in public. It’s a closed book to any but top-end virtuosos. Throughout, in purely physical terms, Tiberghien could not be faulted – but on this occasion, the presentation as a whole was something of a disappointment: the raging demon that lurks behind the printed note was here only fitfully apparent. And another distraction was the late arrival (just as the slow movement commenced) of numbers of late-comers. Swarming in as they headed for seats, often mid-row, there was much standing-up and sitting down by patrons already seated. All this demolished the gentle atmosphere of the concerto’s exquisite adagio. In the ferociously difficult finale, Tiberghien was at his thrilling, virtuosic best but again, taking up an interpretative position some distance from the emotional epicentre of the music. Throughout, Fisch took the WASO through an impeccable, finely supportive accompaniment.

There was an encore: Bach’s Prelude No 1 in C from Book 1 of Bach’s famous ”48”: it was a marvellous moment: a little miracle of gentle beauty.

Bartok’s music for orchestra can be, and often is, very challenging and tricky to bring off successfully. And that was certainly the case as Fisch took his players through the rhythmically complex Dance Suite to emerge from the maze with honour intact. Bassoon, trombone and tuba were much to the fore in the opening pages – and flutes were frankly delightful. And in the second movement, robust brass conjured up images of rough peasants energetically stamping away.  Abrasive, jubilant, ear-grating and glowering were adjectives that came to mind as Fisch and the WASO steered a splendid way through the suite. Bravo!

OPERA- Carmen (Bizet)

 

W.A.Opera Company and Chorus

His Majesty’s Theatre

reviewed by Neville Cohn

 

Ian Westrip
Ian Westrip

More often than not in opera reviews, comments on the chorus are usually found towards the end of the commentary. But, if ever this group of singers deserves top billing, it’s the W.A. Opera Chorus. I cannot praise their contribution to Carmen too highly. Not only did they sing beautifully – a tribute to guest chorus master Ian Westrip’s detailed training – they were a crucial visual factor in Lindy Hume’s production. The boys’ chorus did particularly well, their mischievous taunting of the soldiers outside the cigarette factory very effective. The soldier choristers, too, were on the ball. Throughout the scene, choral co-ordination was frankly excellent.

 

Since cigarette smoking has, to an almost total extent, become a no-no in Australia – and this is something to be celebrated –  the Act 1 scene in which cigarette girls come outside the factory for a mid-morning fag or two might pose an ethical problem for some. If there are lit fags on stage, are some members of the audience likely to rush out at interval (or even mid-performance) to buy a packet of cigarettes for a hasty puff? I very much doubt it. This isn’t to suggest the chorus smokes real cigarettes while singing the famous song – but surely there are skills enough backstage to provide fake ciggies that look like the real thing – and stage smoke to enhance the impression even more.

 

As we’ve seen from Hume’s earlier productions of the work, she eschews glamour for its own sake. Verismo is well to the fore. The clothes of the locals look grubby and most of the men look down at heel. There aren’t any government pensions here. Reality is high on the production list and it is almost everywhere apparent – but not in the tavern scene where a ‘dancer’ turns around and around and around – and around. What can this mean? This is the sort of locale where the traditional dance  – flamenco – would be as natural an expression as breathing.  But the fight scene between Don Jose (Paul O’Neill) and Zuniga (Paull-Anthony Keightley) was effectively choreographed.

 

The sets are cleverly designed to underscore and enhance the action. The outside of the tobacco factory where Carmen works has a time-worn, tacky look – and that enhances the overall grubbiness of the area, reinforcing an overall impression of a rather rundown, neglected part of town.

 

Many  – most? – productions of Carmen still go to great pains to ensure the eponymous (anti?-heroine) comes across as the apotheosis of a Hollywood siren, a clone of a glamorously garbed Rita Hayworth. Not so here.  I recall one of Hume’s Carmen productions of more than 20 years ago in which I commented on Carmen coming across “as charming and mischievous rather than insolent and provocatively seductive”. Milijana Nikolic’s Carmen differs vastly, manner- and appearance-wise. Here is a characterisation that is utterly convincing, a Carmen who is a vulgar tease, a tough-as-nails type, a trouble-maker. It’s a performance that radiates reality.

 

How very different is Emma Pearson’s characterisation of Micaela. It was spot-on, Micaela’s inherent goodness beautifully evoked, the very antithesis of Carmen’s darkness. Here was a performance of utmost finesse, certainly the most moving I’ve encountered in the many Carmen productions I’ve attended over the last half-century and more. Bravo!

 

The W.A.Symphony Orchestra was directed with care by Antony Walker.

Emma Pearson
Emma Pearson
Milijana Nikolic
Milijana Nikolic

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  • All photos except, that of Ian Westrip, by James Rogers.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  • Due to illness – and much to my regret – I had to leave midway through the performance.

CONCERT Ray Chen (violin)  Julien Quentin (piano)

 

Perth Concert Hall

reviewed by Neville Cohn

 

Julian Hargreaves
Credit:Julian Hargreaves

When Ray Chen puts bow to string, it instantly triggers memories of violin greats: Yehudi Menuhin, Heifetz, Elman in their prime. There is about his playing a seeming effortlessness, a lyricism that places him well to the forefront of the world’s current line-up of fiddle greats. The magic so gratifyingly in evidence when Chen gave a recital with Timothy Young here in Perth a few years ago, was no less splendidly in evidence on this occasion.

 

This was wondrously apparent in his account of Ysaye’s Sonata for solo violin in D minor. It’s from opus 23, one of a number of solo violin works which are ferociously difficult, no-man’s-land for any but the most skilled of fiddlers. I think of it as an extended, ruthlessly demanding cadenza – and in every sense, Chan was more than up to the challenge. Now lyrical, now passionate, the playing was informed by an immediacy that brought one face to face, as it were,  with the composer.

 

Matthew Hindson’s Violin Sonata No 1 – Dark Matter (2018) – has been given its world premiere performances on Chen and Quentin’s current Musica Viva tour. With an alert and very skilled Julien Quentin at the piano, we were taken into Hindson’s idiosyncratic musical world.

 

The Sonata is dedicated to the composer’s father who passed away shortly after the work was completed. In a program note, Hindson tells of his childhood years when he and his siblings were taken to violin lessons by their father, “learning the violin alongside us”. Much of the first movement is quiet – it comes across like a gentle, melancholy song, rather like a sad lullaby. In the second movement, virtuosity comes to the fore. Presented with considerable intensity, it’s an essay in passionate virtuosity.

 

Attributed to Vitali, the Chaconne in G minor was the perfect curtain raiser, those oh-so-well-known notes here sounding as fresh and beautiful as a flower just opened. And its moments of defiant power were no less impressively presented.

 

Whether gently introspective or passionately virtuosic, Chen and Quentin were much on their mettle in Franck’s too-frequently programmed Sonata in A – but not even intrusive, ignorant applause between movements could detract from the frankly stunning wizardry these two musicians brought to their offering. And then the duo gave us a sizzlingly virtuosic account of Ravel’s Tzigane. Bravissimo!

 

CONCERT

Perth Symphony Orchestra

Perth Town Hall

reviewed by Neville Cohn

 

Jessica Gethin and PSOWhat would most office workers do when it’s time to leave for the day? I imagine some might head for a drink at the nearest watering hole or perhaps do some hurried shopping for dinner before walking to a train station, bus stop or parking garage to head home. But the people who run Perth Symphony Orchestra came up with another possibility: offering city workers the chance to listen to a symphony concert before going home – and getting a little handy advice on yoga relaxation techniques for good measure.

On my way to the concert at Perth Town Hall, I wondered how many office workers would take the opportunity to attend a symphony performance straight after work rather than getting home as quickly as possible to put their feet up before the telly (if someone else was looking after dinner) or going into the kitchen to fix the evening meal.

In the event, the venue was packed out – and how inviting it was. Subdued lighting, small clusters of candles in tumblers set on window sills – and a range of pre- and post-concert drinks on offer in an adjoining room. And there were yoga mats on the stage floor for those who preferred that to conventional seating. And as concertgoers arrived by elevator or staircase to access the first floor hall, they were greeted by the sound of musicians offering pre-concert music in the tiny foyer. I was particularly impressed by Julia Watson’s finely considered offering of extracts from a Bach partita for unaccompanied violin. It was a frankly beautiful idea, a beautiful moment.

There was an almost palpable air of anticipation before the start of Mozart’s Jupiter Symphony, his 41st and last essay in the genre. With Jessica Gethin in top form directing proceedings from the podium, and the orchestra led with characteristic authority by Paul Wright, the work unfolded in exemplary fashion. There was a fine balance of power and grace in the opening allegro vivace. Cellos were in excellent fettle here. The andante cantabile was beautifully considered with as much focus on detail as on conveying the overall sweep of the movement. And the playing in the minuet was an essay in graceful strength with a frankly delightful buoyancy of both mood and momentum. The finale brought joyous energy in abundance as it flashed and glittered with fine detail.

CALM Concert with PSOAs was customary in Mozart’s day, the orchestra played standing (other than the cellists, of course). Audience seating was arranged around the orchestra, the players casually garbed in blue jeans and white tops. And from first note to last, there was about the playing a disciplined commitment which augurs well.  Laurels, in particular, to the cellists and flautist; their contribution was particularly pleasing. The same could be said of the horn and trumpet players who were much on their mettle.

This was an important event. I hope there will be more of them. There’s clearly a demand for it.

Opera

 

Tristan and Isolde (Wagner)

W.A.Symphony Orchestra

Perth Concert Hall

reviewed by Neville Cohn

 

He was a horrible person. He treated women appallingly. His vanity was exceeded only by his vanity. He was ferociously anti-semitic – but never hesitated to appoint top-flight Jews to interpret his music when he needed them. So he was a hypocrite as well. Wagner also engaged in the German revolution of 1848-1849). He took part in the Dresden uprising and had to flee the country when a warrant for his arrest was issued. But he was, as well, a genius, a composer of unique and profound operas. And this was breathtakingly in evidence at the Concert Hall on Sunday when Asher Fisch presided over an account of Tristan and Isolde, presented in concert version.

In incompetent hands, Tristan and Isolde can all too easily sound dismayingly, endlessly dreary. But when there’s a conductor of highest accomplishment on the podium, an orchestra consistently on its musical toes and a cast of A1 singers, the result can be immensely rewarding – and this was most certainly the case on Sunday.

Star of the afternoon was that most gifted of singers: Stuart Skelton. As the eponymous hero of Wagner’s masterpiece, this extraordinary musician was beyond reproach, his every utterance as meaningful as one could ever hope to experience. With flawless diction, he gave point and meaning to the subtlest detail. Again and again, one listened to incontrovertible evidence of Skelton’s right to be considered heldentenor par excellence. He brought immense physical presence to his performance, moving about the front of the stage as if it was his natural milieu, his every gesture meaningful. Within moments of his first utterance, it was unequivocally clear we were in the presence of a Wagnerian master.

Gun-Brit Barkmin, standing in at very short notice to replace an indisposed Eva-Maria Westbroek, sang Isolde with care and understanding. Her voice blended well with that of Skelton – and their extended duos brimmed with an emotional power that was almost palpable. Their combined contribution bordered on the sublime. Bravissimo!

Bearing in mind that this was a concert version of the opera with singers positioned in a row in front of the orchestra on a stage devoid of theatrical lighting and props, the interpretative intensity brought to bear on the work was frankly astonishing – and gratifying. Throughout, Fisch’s powerful identification with the work enabled him to extract maximum effect from his forces. Trumpets, trombones and horns were in exceptional form as were the strings.

While Tristan and Isolde dominate the opera, there are crucially important supporting roles. I was particularly impressed by the singing of Ain Anger as King Marke. In fine voice and the epitome of regal dignity, he conveyed very effectively, his disappointment and anger towards Tristan who has taken the monarch’s intended bride (Isolde) from him. And as Brangane, Isolde’s maid-in-waiting, Ekaterina Gubanova sang with impressive confidence.  Boaz Daniel, too, brought presence and vocal skill to the smaller role of Kurwenal.

Sally Kester, drawing on her immense knowledge of Wagner and his works, offered, as ever,  fascinating insights into the opera in her pre-performance talk.

 

 

Australian Chamber Orchestra

Perth Concert Hall

reviewed by Neville Cohn

 

ACO Hamer Hall photo Jeff BusbyOver decades, I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve listened to Haydn’s Symphony I04 in D minor. It is one of the glories of the classical era – and the Australian Chamber Orchestra was the ideal ensemble to give point and meaning to this supreme utterance. Much of the performance – whether in moments of high drama or introspection – bordered on perfection, leaving this critic in the rare and pleasant position of having to do little more than sit back and acknowledge artistry at a consistently impressive level.

There were also two premieres:  Movements (for us and them) by Samuel Adams  and A Knock One Night  by the indefatigable Elena Kats-Chernin, the latter’s new work in turn dramatic, sinister, occasionally charm-laden and quirky – and, as with all her work, instantly accessible..  Adams’ piece is music of a very different stripe, often dark in mood and tone, music suggestive of anger, fear and confrontation expressed in torrents of notes.

In Shostakovich’s Cello Concerto No 1, Steven Isserlis, as ever, brought formidable ability to bear on his stunningly complete account of the work. Behind the printed note lurks an anguished demon – and Isserlis revealed it to the nth degree, presenting the cello line in the first movement with an impassioned, searing intensity that brooked no opposition. At its most intense, there was about the performance an urgency that drew me to the edge of my seat. The lengthy cadenza (which is the concerto’s third movement) was a model of what impeccable cello playing is all about.

Much hair flopping and facial contortion were a distraction but, as in the past, looking away from the soloist on-stage enables one to savour to the full the near-matchless quality of Isserlis’ profoundly meaningful playing. Shostakovich’s concerto is one of the most disturbing works he ever produced – and it takes a soloist such as this and an orchestra of highest calibre to encompass its daunting terrain in so complete a way – and so do full justice to the work.  An avalanche of thoroughly deserved applause prompted an encore, Isserlis playing Song of the Birds, a Catalonian folk song made famous by the legendary Casals and here offered in an arrangement for unaccompanied cello.

Isserlis played on the superb Nelsova Stradivarius of 1726 on loan to him from London’s Royal Academy of Music – and he is worthy of it.

A lavish bouquet in particular to Premsyl Vojta, that master of the French horn. His contributions were like a golden thread through the evening.

The Best of Bernstein

W.A. Symphony Orchestra

Perth Concert Hall

reviewed by Neville Cohn

 

Leonard BernsteinIf, as a result of unavoidable circumstances,  I’d come very late to the WASO’s concert at the weekend and managed to listen to only the last work on the program, I’d have gone home well satisfied. Leonard Bernstein’s Symphonic Dances from West Side Story was a sonically incandescent offering with irresistible rhythms, thrilling responses from the brass players and with those in the WASO’s bustling “kitchen department” in particular. delivering a sizzlingly effective conclusion to the evening. This was the orchestra at its focussed best.

This was particularly welcome because the evening’s curtainraiser – the overture to Candide – was disappointingly routine. Three Dance Episodes from On the Town came across in a more spirited fashion. The brass section was splendidly effective in The Great Lover – and a beautifully considered woodwind introduction to Lonely Town, that splendid pas de deux, fell pleasingly on the ear  Here, hushed notes from Brent Grapes on trumpet were spot-on as were contributions from flute and oboe. And I very much liked the verve with which Times Square 1944 came across.

Peak of the first half was a thrillingly intense and focussed account of a suite from Bernstein’s music for the 1954 movie On the Waterfront starring Marlon Brando. Like the movie, the music is the very essence of threatened and actual physical violence. Its undercurrents, in turn threatening and sinister, reinforced by emphatic drumming, make for hackle-raising listening. Conductor Benjamin Northey and the WASO sounded as one here.

During the intermission, I overheard an elderly man stating emphatically that he did not approve of a Jew setting psalms for use in a Christian church. I wondered whether he’d also have been upset had he been told that Franz Schubert, a Catholic, was commissioned by the cantor of a synagogue in Vienna to make a choral setting of Psalm 92 from the Old Testament!

Countertenor Nicholas Tolputt sang Psalm 23 in Bernstein’s Chichester Psalms, bringing to this much loved text an almost eerie beauty. It was sung in the original Hebrew.  An in-form WASO Chorus sang beautifully, bringing a gentle, lyrical  – and reverential – quality to the setting of Psalm 131, especially while singing the words which in English read:

“Surely I have calmed

And quieted myself,

As a child that is weaned of his mother…….”

And in “Why do the nations rage” from Psalm 2, both chorus and orchestra brought point and meaning to the powerful text. But rather more care might have been expended on the pronunciation of the Hebrew text.  And, surely, a WASO audience which almost invariably applauds only at appropriate moments, could have done better and restrained itself from clapping loudly and intrusively between sections of the work. It well-intentioned response to a fine performance effectively demolished the mood so painstakingly built up during each section of the work.

 

W.A.Symphony Orchestra

Perth Concert Hall

reviewed by Neville Cohn

 

Stefanie-Irányi_Credit_Christian-DebusI have been attending – and reviewing – WASO concerts for more than 35 years.

During that time, I have experienced some of the most satisfying listening I could have hoped for.

And in Mahler’s Fourth Symphony, Asher Fisch and the WASO played up to and even above that standard of excellence.

Indeed, Fisch did wonders in coaxing often gloriously satisfying moments – as well as half hours! – from his forces in this massive work.

And time flew by as measure after immaculate measure worked its aural and emotional magic.

In one of the most imaginative program compilations I’ve encountered in a long time, we heard, before the symphony, Mahler’s orchestration of the variations movement from Schubert’s Death and the Maiden String Quartet. This was frankly magical music making by players surrendering to the Muse in the most satisfying way. They were at the top of their game with phrasing so refined and meaningful as to take the breath away. Stand up, WASO players, and take a thoroughly deserved bow, not least for blended sonorities that bordered on perfection. Bravo!

There was magnificent musicmaking, too, in the first performance in Perth of Luciano Berio’s Folk Songs.

Here, I cannot too highly praise Stefanie Iranyi ‘s singing. Here was impeccable revelation of mood with the sort of phrase shaping critics dream about but only very rarely encounter in reality. And did this singer know how to enchant her listeners with notes clothed in ravishingly mellow tone! As well as a rare ability to evoke, precisely, the mood of the moment, Iranyi’s total absorption of the composer’s ideas was wholly convincing.. It was a triumph enhanced by the finesse of Asch’s direction. It came across as a compendium of sonic and expressive marvels. A storm of applause greeted its conclusion; it was a thoroughly deserved response.

If the concert had ended at that point, I’d have left more than satisfied – but more magic was in store: Mahler’s Fourth Symphony.

In the symphony, conductor and players responded to the score as if it had been written specially for them. Here were subtleties of phrasing, tempi that sounded entirely appropriate with, as well, a rare expressiveness that allowed the work’s manifold beauties to register at an impressively high level. And, in the closing movement, Iranyi’s singing added yet more lustre to the evening.

To usher in the evening, we listened to an account of Schubert’s famous lied – Death and the Maiden – accompanied at the piano by Fisch. This was less than entirely successful. The piano (because so much of stage space was taken up by players and their instruments) was positioned far too far to the right side of the stage. And because Iranyi’s voice was not as clearly audible as would have been the case had she sung from the front of the stage – the same could be said of the piano accompaniment – this was a too insubstantial offering to make its mark in a meaningful sense.