Perth - OZArtsReview

W.A. Symphony Orchestra

reviewer Live Performance April 20, 2018June 5, 2018Achim Freyer, Chon, chopin, Cohn, composer, Covent Garden, Ettinger, London, Neville Chon, Neville Cohn, orchestra, Perth, piano, symphony, viola, WASO

Perth Concert Hall

reviewed by Neville Cohn

On Saturday, Shostakovich’s Festive Overture was informed by a sense of immense gaiety, an ideal way to launch an orchestral program. Brass calls and woodwinds in fine fettle brought the overture to genial, pulsing life. The joie de vivre that lies at its heart was evoked to the nth degree by visiting Israeli conductor Dan Ettinger, a conductor who knew exactly what he was doing. The roar of approval that greeted the conclusion of the work was thoroughly warranted.

Ettinger has conducted opera at Covent Garden and New York’s Metropolitan Opera. He has also made a DVD of Wagner’s Ring cycle of operas directed by Achim Freyer as well as conducting the Ring at Tokyo’s New National Theatre.

Unlike its heyday when it featured in the repertoire of just about every pianist in Europe from Liszt down, Mendelssohn’s Piano Concerto in G minor is seldom heard these days. On Saturday, the featured soloist was Argentine Ingrid Fliter, gowned in black with a floral motif. After some initial blurring and slips of the finger, the soloist retrieved the initiative, marshalling Mendelssohn’s floodtide of often ferociously taxing notes with gratifying skill and elan.

Violas were in particularly fine fettle in the slow movement with Fliter revealing its introspective, lyrical essence with very real understanding. And in the finale, the soloist gave us a scintillating account in a way which allowed the composer’s ideas to be heard in the most meaningful of ways. From first note to last, Ettinger took the WASO through an ideal accompaniment.

Warm, protracted applause was rewarded by a perhaps overlong encore – the first of Chopin’s published waltzes – played with a flair and fluency that informed the music with a delightful buoyancy.

There wasn’t an empty chair – with many standing – to listen to Tim White’s first rate pre-concert talk, brimming with fascinating fact. For those standing further back, though, there was a need for greater sound amplification.

W.A. Symphony Orchestra

reviewer Live Performance March 25, 2018June 5, 20189, 9th symphony, asher fisch, Beethoven. david parkin, choir, Chon, Cohn, fantasy, henry choo WASO, Neville Chon, Neville Cohn, ninth, orchestra, Perth, perth concert hall, piano, symphony

Perth Concert Hall

review by Neville Cohn

I was surprised to read in the printed program that the WASO’s performance at the weekend of Beethoven’s Choral Fantasy was the first time it has been played since 1972.

Perhaps one of the reasons for this near-half century absence from its programs is that the work is often thought of as little more than a trial run for Beethoven’s Symphony No 9. But for those with ears to hear, the Fantasy is a work of magnificence which deserves to be performed far, far more frequently than is the case.

Asher Fisch, who is as versatile as he is gifted, presided over events from the keyboard, seated at the piano with his back to the audience. As well, the piano lid had been removed to enable conductor, orchestra, and singers to see one another. But the vice of this virtue was that with the lid removed, piano sound was not as effectively directed into the auditorium so that Asch’s immensely authoritative playing was not heard to best advantage.

Laurels to both the choir and the vocal soloists. Their singing was of such high standard that for much of the performance, all that this critic needed to do was to sit back and savour each delightful moment.

I sincerely hope that Perth concertgoers won’t have to wait a near-half century before this magnificent opus is programmed again.

In Beethoven’s Ninth, Fisch and his forces were no less on their musical toes. Again and again in this work of high genius, one sensed the care lavished on fine detail both instrumental and vocal. Strings were spot-on. So, too, were bassoons and oboes in rising to the work’s many challenges. Throughout, Fisch allowed the music to speak for itself, never imposing himself between audience and score, a trap into which so many lesser musicians fall.

I particularly liked the buoyant, jovial character of the playing and not even fleeting moments during which woodwinds were not always synchronised with the rest of the orchestra, could detract from the delightful, dance-like character of the score.

There was crass, unwanted applause as the vocal soloists came on-stage just before the Adagio began. But would it not have been a more practical idea for the soloists to come onstage with the conductor, taking their seats before the performance began which would have avoided this unwanted interruption to the flow of the symphony?

It says much for the focus and professionalism of all concerned that, notwithstanding

this interruption to the proceedings, Fisch and his forces came up trumps again and again. The opening Allegro came across magnificently, allowing one, as ever, to marvel at the sonic miracle created by a man imprisoned in a terrifying world of utter silence. The scherzo, too, reached for the heights coming across as a jovial, stamping dance. And notwithstanding some crumpled horn notes, the adagio unfolded seamlessly.

In the awe-inspiring finale, trumpets did wonders – and there were wonderfully sonorous contributions from the lower strings.

WASO choristers: step forward and take a thoroughly deserved bow. This was one of the choir’s most meaningful moments; the polished, disciplined skill brought to the performance augurs well for upcoming concerts. As a quartet, the vocal soloists were in splendid accord, too. I particularly liked the contribution of bass soloist David Parkin who clothed each note he sang with frankly beautiful tone. Much the same could be said of Henry Choo who brought refinement and impeccable taste to everything he sang.

As a curtain raiser, we listened to Beethoven’s Namensfeier overture. Arguably the Master’s dullest offering, this was its first WASO outing since 1955.

Sabine Meyer (clarinet)

reviewer Live Performance March 25, 2018June 5, 2018alliage quintet, borodin, Chon, clarinet, Cohn, jang eun bae, Neville Chon, Neville Cohn, orchestra, Perth, perth concert hall, piano, sabine meyer, saxophone, symphony, WASO

Alliage Quintet

Perth Concert Hall

reviewed by Neville Cohn

It was an evening of pure delight with six players, each at the very top of their game, delivering the sort of musical magic critics long for but so rarely encounter in reality. For Perth audiences, the stand-out name would have been Sabine Meyer, grand mistress of the clarinet who, once heard, is never forgotten.

In many decades as a music critic, Monday was the first occasion I’d had to listen to a saxophone quartet – and was it worth the wait? Unquestionably. These four gentlemen who in interpretative, sonic and pitch terms, cannot be faulted – and who play as if drawing from a shared source of inspiration – would almost certainly have won over those who might have come to the concert in doubt about whether such an ensemble should have appeared on a Musica Viva program.

This concert was the last in a gruelling tour of Australian cities yet they played – and threw in a witty comment here and there – as if they’d come to town after a restful holiday. There was about almost everything on offer a delightful joie de vivre.

And within the democracy of so rarely encountered an ensemble, these players demonstrated the form that has justly earned the highest praise, in a performance that would surely have raised the spirits of even the most dour of concertgoers.

Every item on the program was an arrangement of a well-known work, much-loved pieces by, inter alia, Borodin, Bernstein, Dukas, and Stravinsky.

Some of the most meaningful playing of the evening focussed on extracts from the latter’s The Firebird, with players pooling their wondrous capabilities in a way that gave fresh meaning to some of the finest music to come out of the 20^th century. Familiar notes in very different guise made for frankly thrilling listening. Indeed, whether sinister, tranquil or wild, Stravinsky’s ideas were heard to wonderful advantage.

How, I wondered, would Stravinsky have responded to his music performed in a chamber music version. I’d like to think he’d have loved it.

Sabine Meyer, grand mistress of the clarinet, was at her authoritative best on Monday, bringing point and meaning to everything she played with an awesomely fine ability to shape a faultless phrase. Allied to this were a faultless sense of style and evocation of mood. I cannot too highly praise such artistry.

Milhaud’s Scaramouche is known to millions, most frequently in a version for two pianos. But an arrangement for 4 saxophones by Sebastian Pottmeier (who is baritone saxophonist of the Alliage Quintet), came across as an essay in gleeful insouciance.

I wonder what Borodin would have thought of his Polovtsian Dances presented by Meyer and the Alliage Quintet. I rather think he’d have been chuffed no end. I savoured another old favourite in new guise:

A lavish bouquet to Jang Eun Bae who, for much of the evening, provided piano accompaniments which were the last word in musical subtlety.

W.A. Symphony

reviewer Live Performance March 25, 2018June 5, 2018asher fisch, Beethoven’s Violin Concerto. Veronika Eberle, marilyn phillips, orchestra, Perth, perth concert hall, symphony, WASO

Perth Concert Hall

reviewed by Neville Cohn

There was a near-capacity audience to listen to Veronika Eberle making her WASO debut as soloist in Beethoven’s Violin Concerto. Glamorously gowned in yellow, she played on a Stradivarius violin – known as the Dragonetti and dating from 1700 – on loan from the Nippon Music Foundation.

Stylistically, Eberle’s playing was impeccable, her skill on the fingerboard beyond criticism. Bowing technique and phrase-shaping were masterly. But listening from a seat at the rear of the front stalls, one sensed a need for rather more carrying tone in the upper reaches of the range, particularly when playing softly and needing to stand out from the accompanying orchestral sound. But this was to a degree compensated for by the delightful, silvery quality of tone that Eberle coaxed from her instrument.

Defying concert convention, the audience burst into sustained applause at the conclusion of the first movement. This is, of course, contrary to standard practice – but this was really a very minor departure from the norm when considering that when the Beethoven concerto had its very first ever performance in 1806, the soloist – Franz Clement – at the same point in the work entertained the audience by playing one of his own compositions performed on one string of the violin while holding the instrument upside down! Compared to that circus-style desecration, the applause that broke out at the same point of the performance on Friday is absolutely pardoned.

Eberle’s golden-toned account of the lengthy cadenza was impeccable.

I cannot too highly praise the quality of orchestral accompaniment. It was a joy to the ear, with Asher Fisch coaxing consistently meaningful responses from a WASO in great form. It augurs well for the oncoming concert season. The introduction was informed by an altogether appropriate magisterial quality; it sounded entirely right, so much so that if, by some miracle of time travel, Beethoven could have been present at the performance, I’d like to think he’d have gone backstage afterwards to shake Fisch’s hand and perhaps ask for his autograph. Horns, trumpets and kettle drums were in great form, the musicians consistently on their mettle.

Incidentally, it’s seventy years since the concerto was first performed by the WASO – with, as soloist, the unforgettable, magnificent Ginette Neveu.

There was also a well-attended and fascinating pre-concert talk by Marilyn Phillips in the terrace-level foyer.

W.A Symphony Orchestra

reviewer Live Performance March 25, 2018June 5, 2018andrew nicholson, asher fisch, Chon, Debussy, fisch, flautist, flute, La Valse, neilsen, neilsens flute concerto, Neville Chon, Neville Cohn. Cohn, nicholson, Perth, Perth concerta hall, Ravel, symphony, WASO

Perth Concert Hall

reviewed by Neville Cohn

Aristotle had a poor opinion of the flute. “It does not have a good moral effect. It is too exciting”. But if, through some miracle of time travel, that ancient philosopher had come along to the Concert Hall, I’d like to think he would have been so impressed by the worth of Nielsen’s Flute Concerto and so charmed by the skill of both soloist and orchestra that he’d made a point of going backstage afterwards to shake the hands of both soloist and conductor – and ask for their autographs.

Nielsen’s Flute Concerto is not for faint-hearted flautists. It is ferociously difficult, treacherous at every turn – and it needs a master of the instrument to reveal its many subtleties. I cannot recall ever before encountering a more exciting account of Nielsen’s work than Andrew Nicholson’s performance at the weekend.

It was a tour de force by a flautist privy to the concerto’s every secret. And judging from the torrents of applause that broke out at the concerto’s conclusion (as well as, irritatingly, after the first movement), the capacity audience was of like mind.

Playing his superb, golden flute as if to the manner born, Nicholson reached for the heights with phrase after flawless phrase.

In turn elfin and insouciant with beautifully spun, sustained trills, flawlessly essayed arabesques and an enchanting aerial buoyancy, Nicholson was consistently impressive. He also had the advantage of a first class accompaniment as Asher Fisch took the players through a dauntingly tricky score.

Sibelius’ emotionally dark tone poem Tapiola will never head a list of orchestral favourites; it’s very seldom heard in contrast to, say, Finlandia or Pohjola’s Daughter. But it is most certainly worth an occasional airing. Its brooding quality was most meaningfully evoked with strings and brass in impressive form.

Two days before the 100^th anniversary of Debussy’s death, we listened to the Master’s

Nocturnes. I particularly liked the skill with which Fetes was offered, coming across as some wild, exotic dance, music that inflames the imagination. Laurels to the brass section which excelled itself. Earlier, we listened to Nuages (Clouds) as Fisch and his forces very impressively evoked its mysterious, eerie atmosphere. It was a feast of sonic impressionism. In Sirenes, sopranos and altos of the WASO Chorus were positioned on what seemed an uncomfortably small on-stage area as we listened to its gentle, wordless singing, very slightly off-key.

It’s an odd fact that Ravel’s La Valse, that most danceable of works, was rejected by Diaghilev (while impresario for the famed Russian Ballet) because he felt it wasn’t danceable enough! Ravel was so deeply offended, he never spoke to Diaghilev again.

It was all stops out as Fisch took the WASO on a passionate journey through Ravel’s opus. It was a performance that set the pulse racing. Bravo!

W.A. Symphony Orchestra

reviewer Live Performance October 18, 2017June 5, 2018Chon, Cohn, David Evans, Douglas Boyd, Li-Wei Qin, Neville Chon, Neville Cohn, orchestra, Perth, perth concert hall, Saint Saens’ Cello Concerto No 1, symphony, Vaughan Williams, WASO’s Morning Symphony series

Perth Concert Hall

reviewed by Neville Cohn

Vaughan Williams’ Fifth Symphony is seldom heard in this neck of the woods. Prior to the weekend, its most recent performance here was as far back as 1999 when Vernon Handley presided over events. It’s a very welcome return.

In less than totally assured hands, the Fifth can send sound endless and dull – a turn-off. But when directed by a master – and Douglas Boyd is most certainly in that category – then, with an orchestra very much on its toes, the result can be electrifying. To be frank, I can’t recall a presentation of the Fifth that moved me as much as that offered to a near-capacity house on Thursday. It was the chief offering in the WASO’s Morning Symphony series.

Beautifully expressive string playing gave point and meaning to the first movement, its deeply felt ideas building up to a magnificent climax. First rate oboe playing enhanced listening pleasure. The second movement, essentially a dance to tricky rhythms, made for totally engaging listening.

In indifferent hands, the slow movement can sound interminable – but when there’s inspiration from the podium, as was the case on Thursday, it made for blissful listening, an impression enhanced by first rate work on cor anglais in a moving, beautifully stated contribution. The finale came across as buoyant, celebratory, upbeat. It was an exultant offering. Laurels, in particular, to David Evans for horn playing of finesse; it gave the stamp of distinction to the finale, an account to remember for all the right reasons.

In an auditorium filled to near-capacity, Boyd and his forces rose splendidly to Vaughan Williams’ symphonic demands. I’d like to think that in some way we cannot comprehend, the spirit of that much-loved composer not only hovered over the proceedings but raised a hand in acknowledgement of a job splendidly handled.

I hope the performance was recorded for later broadcast across Australia. It certainly deserved to be – and I hope that Douglas Boyd will be invited back to preside over further Vaughan Williams works.

As curtain raiser, we listened to Saint Saens’ Cello Concerto No 1. It’s a trashy, shallow work – but, in the hands of a master cellist ( and Li-Wei Qin is definitely in that category), the concerto sounded far better than it in fact is. This is no small achievement on the part of the soloist. I very much hope we’ll hear this musician as soloist with the WASO again but in a work more befitting his exceptional skill in both technical and interpretative terms.

Rachmaninov: complete piano preludes: 1941 – 1942 recordings

reviewer Recordings - CDs September 1, 2017June 5, 20181941, Chon, Cohn, Dame Myra Hess, DECCA, Moura Lympany, Neville Chon, Neville Cohn, Perth, piano, Rachmaninov, Stephen Siek, Western Australia, WWII musics

Prelude opus 3 no 2; 10 Preludes opus 23; 13 Preludes opus 32

Moura Lympany (piano)

DECCA 482 6266 (2CD)

TPT: 76’ 42”

reviewed by Neville Cohn

She was christened Mary Johnstone – but because the name sounded too ordinary for an on-stage career, Miss Johnstone became Moura Lympany, the surname an altered version of her mother’s maiden name. And she was – and will ever be – the only musician to have recorded the complete piano preludes of Rachmaninov on, firstly, 78rpm discs, then on LP and, finally, on CD.

All the 78rpm recordings were made at DECCA’s West Hampstead studios during WWII. It was often a stressful experience. Editing out errors was not possible on 78 rpm discs. It was all-or-nothing.

If there was a slip of the finger, smudged pedalling, a fluffed note, a loss of momentum – a lapse of any sort – the prelude would need to be recorded again from scratch. At one particularly frustrating session, not a single prelude was deemed good enough for preservation. Sometimes, all would go well, at other times, a piece would sound below par and needing to be recorded again and again (and yet again) if considered necessary. It says much, then, for Lympany’s abilities that there’s not a dull moment; every piece sounds fresh and newly minted.

During the Blitz – like fellow pianist Dame Myra Hess in Hampstead – young Moura would take shelter beneath her grand piano in the event of a Luftwaffe bombing raid. There were so many terrible happenings during these horror years. One morning in May, 1941, for instance, Moura, on her way to Queen’s Hall to record Cesar Franck’s Variations Symphoniques, found, to her horror, that the hall had taken a direct hit, leaving a pile of rubble.

True, some of her later recordings of these works have greater depth, others are approached in slightly subtler ways – but they all bear the stamp of distinction.

Throughout, Lympany sounds utterly in control, again and again surmounting with ease the sort of technical hurdles that would cause lesser players to throw their hands up in despair. Some more about hands: Rachmaninov’s were enormous and he wrote music to take advantage of this – to the despair of musicians with smaller hands.

It is 76 years since Lympany’s Rachmaninov recordings first came on the market. They have weathered well. Brash, lilting, aggressive, sensuous, gentle, melancholy, introspective, suave – these and a myriad other moods are summoned up by a musician at the peak of her skills.

Stephen Siek’s liner notes are first rate. They make engrossing reading.

The Clarinotts

reviewer Recordings - CDs August 28, 2017June 5, 2018berlin pilharmonic, Chon, clarient, Cohn, ernst ottensamer, mendelssohn, Neville Chon, Neville Cohn, Perth, perth concert hall, rosalind appleby, vienna philharmonic, vienna state opera

Ernst Ottensamer, Daniel Ottensamer, Andreas Ottensamer (clarinets)

with Wiener Virtuosen

Mozart, Mendelssohn, Rossini, Ponchielli et al

DGG 481 19172

TPT: 56’ 50”

reviewed by Rosalind Appleby

“We know what our partners will do a millisecond before they do it”, says Andreas Ottensamer, the youngest member of The Clarinotts. “It’s a luxury you’ll rarely have with any other ensemble”.

The incredible cohesion between the three clarinetists is what struck me on a ‘blind’ listen to The Clarinotts album – that and their uncannily similar sound quality. It made sense when I had a closer look at the performers and realised it was Ernst Ottensamer in ensemble with his sons, the famous Viennese ‘Royal Family of the Clarinet’.

Ernst Ottensamer is being mourned around the world after dying tragically of a heart attack on 22 July. He was only 62. Ernst was principal clarinet in the Wiener Phiharmoniker from 1983 and founding member of the Wiener Blaserensemble and Wiener Virtuosen.

Ernst inspired a generation of clarinettists around the world, including his own children. His eldest son Daniel became co-principal clarinet in the Vienna Philharmonic alongside his father, and his youngest son Andreas is principal clarinet in the Berlin Philharmonic. Together, the three of them formed The Clarinotts, releasing their first album in 2009 and their second in 2016.

The 2016 self-titled album opens with Mendelssohn’s sparkling Concert Piece No 1 for clarinet, basset horn and orchestra. The brilliant duet was composed rather appropriately for the father-son duo of Heinrich and Carl Baermann. It is full of dazzling operatic writing and I was struck by the warm, full bodied sound of the basset horn and clarinet – and the driving energy of their playing.

The album’s repertoire traces Ernst’s career trajectory including his time in the pit of the Vienna State Opera with works like the trio Soave sia il vento from Mozart’s Cosi fan tutte and the Fantasy on themes from Verdi’s Rigoletto by Franz and Karl Doppler. Dance-style works also get a look in with Rossini’s La danza quoting from the overture to William Tell and the sentimental French-style waltz of Cantilene from Francaix’s Petit Quatuor.

Ponchielli’s Il Convegno has both sweetness and fire. Andreas and Daniel perform with extraordinary precision, their virtuosic runs, flourishes and dramatic rubato perfectly synchronised.

As you would expect, this is an album of great finesse and class, accompanied by none other than the Wiener Virtuosen, an ensemble made up of the section principals of the Wiener Philharmoniker. They are certainly some of the best players for the romantic/early 20^th century repertoire that dominates the first half of the album.

Bela Koreny’s Cinema I is based on the plot of Paul Verhoeven’s film Basic Instinct and you can feel the intrigues and the tension in Ernst’s spooky bass clarinet and the wails of Andreas’ and Daniel’s clarinets over the top, accompanied by the Wiener Virtuosen with Christoph Traxler on piano. The bossa nova tune Morning of the Carnival by Luiz Bonfa was another contrast; slick and sultry.

A comment for clarinet nerds: check out the almost inaudible articulation from all three. It sounds like diaphragm articulation but it has the even attack of tonguing, generating sublimely clean playing.

The richness of this album is the synergy of three virtuosic clarinetists who really do seem to be of one mind: it sounds like one person multi-tracking! But what makes it really gripping listening are the energy and emotion the Ottensamer family bring to their music making. They really pull out all the stops in Olivier Truan’s unaccompanied trio The Chase and it’s an exhilarating conclusion to the album. Turns out, it is also a fitting final bow from Ernst Ottensamer; a testimony to a life spent sharing music with excellence and passion.

All-Mozart Compilation

reviewer Recordings - CDs August 28, 2017June 5, 2018c minor, Chon, Cohn, composer, conertgebouw orchestra, Cyrus Meher-Homji, mozart, Neville Chon, Neville Cohn, orchestra, Perth, perth concert hall, symphony no. 29, vn beinum

various concerto soloists

Symphonies 29, 33 & 35

Concertgebouworkest

Eduard van Beinum, conductor

Eloquence 482 5525 (2CD)

TPT: 147’ 11”

reviewed by Neville Cohn

Not the least of the many good things flowing from this re-issue of Philips LP recordings in the compact disc format is making available to an entirely new constituency of listeners the work of musicians of considerable consequence whose recordings of decades ago, for a variety of reasons, have, as it were, fallen through the cracks. The tireless Cyrus Meher-Homji continues this important work with a 2CD re-issue of an all-Mozart compilation of recordings that thoroughly deserve being brought back to life.

As a young teenager, I was given an LP recording of Hubert Barwahser playing on the now defunct Philips label. I still have it. Here, Barwahser sounds at his eloquent, articulate best in ensemble with another almost-forgotten soloist: Phia Berghout on harp in the Concerto for flute and harp. Yet another musician richly deserving this resurrection is the formidably gifted English pianist Kathleen Long who in the mid-20^th century enjoyed a dazzling career.

This is vintage Long. Listen to her playing Mozart’s C minor concerto; it’s a joy from start to finish, blissfully free of fuss or frills.

Presiding over events from the podium is Eduard van Beinum, a first rate musician to which the players of the Concertgebouw Orchestra would respond time and again to provide some of the most satisfying and meaningful recorded music in mid-century Europe and further abroad.

Bram de Wilde is a fine soloist in the Clarinet Concerto. Tone quality is particularly appealing in the chalumeau register. The work unfolds near-flawlessly.

Van Beinum recorded Symphony No 29 in 1957. Sixty years on, it’s as relevant and stylistically meaningful as it would have been when first made available on LP.

This CD is all the more to be treasured because these works are the ONLY Mozart works which van Beinum recorded with the Concertgebouworkest.

Unheard Mozart

reviewer Recordings - CDs August 8, 2017June 5, 2018Anthony Goldstone, Chon, Cohn, mozart, Neville Chon, Neville Cohn, Perth, piano, reviews, unheard mozart, Western Australia

Anthony Goldstone (piano)

divine art dda25051

TPT: 71’ 44”

reviewed by Neville Cohn

Over the years, as I’ve listened to the recordings of Mozart by Anthony Goldstone, I almost invariably think of the biblical story of Ruth who, following in the wake of those harvesting this or that grain, would find nourishment for herself and others from the scattered ears of corn or wheat. Ruth was a gleaner. So, too, in a very different context, was Goldstone.

Think of these snippets of musical thoughts, incomplete or abandoned ideas, scraps of paper with a scribble or two (meaningless to most but musicologically beyond price in some cases) – which, in the minds of most, would be considered as so much rubbish to be thrown away.

In the biblical Ruth’s case, her gleanings sustained life – and in Goldstone’s case, tiny scraps of paper, sometimes a bigger piece left unfinished or unedited were re-animated. Here, Goldstone breathed life into what almost everyone else would have dismissed as inconsequential – to be thrown away with no thought given to the possibility it might be musical gold. What most others would regard with indifference, Goldstone saw as rich possibility.

And what fascinating miniatures these are: part, perhaps, say of a piece that would be carefully completed by Goldstone: a minuet perhaps – or a sarabande.

Mozart aficionados the world over owe an immense debt of gratitude to this remarkable man who with scrupulous care – and affection – brought to life what, in lesser hands (and minds), would simply have been left lying in the dust. His passing leaves us all the poorer.

Goldstone realised the potential of these snippets which others might unthinkingly have dismissed as worthless, ephemeral, expendable, barely worthy of attention. Wrong!

There is a delightful improvisatory quality to the opening Praeludium: the recorded sound quality is excellent in a piece which oscillates between slow introspection and virtuosic brilliance. It’s rather like an improvised cadenza. Glowing, golden tone and impeccably spun trills are fine features. A number of pieces were found unfinished and – one senses a profound humility in this – lovingly, respectfully completed.

← Previous