BBC Philharmonic Orchestra – Mahler’s ‘Titan’ – Symphony No. 1 – Live Review

Saturday 8 November 2025

Bridgewater Hall, Manchester

****

Elena Schwarz conducts nature-themed Debussy and Mahler, with the Manchester premiere of Dani Howard’s trombone concerto

The BBC Philharmonic Orchestra, conductor Elena Schwarz and trombonist Peter Moore. Photo © Chris Payne

Saturday’s concert at the Bridgewater Hall in Manchester was an exploration of the power of nature, in two great ‘symphonic’ works by Debussy and Mahler, bookending a rare beast, a trombone concerto.

Nature bared its teeth in the opening piece, which was La Mer (The Sea) by Claude Debussy, premiered in Paris in 1905. He began working on it in 1903 in Bichain in Burgundy, central France, well away from the sea. He wrote to the composer André Messager, telling him he was working on the new piece,

‘You’re unaware, maybe, that I was intended for the noble career of a sailor and have only deviated from that path thanks to the quirks of fate. Even so, I’ve retained a sincere devotion to the sea.’

He finished the work in 1905 while staying at the Grand Hotel in Eastbourne. But he didn’t draw inspiration from the sea views there. The composer wrote to his publisher, Jacques Durand, ‘It’s a charming, peaceful spot. The sea unfurls itself with an utterly British correctness.’ He was inspired instead by the sea as depicted by JMW Turner in his seascapes. Turner was sometimes in dispute with what he saw as ‘British correctness’, as portrayed in his sometimes uneasy relationship with the Royal Academy of Arts in Mike Leigh’s 2014 film Mr Turner.

Debussy was also inspired by The Great Wave off Kanagawa by the Japanese Artist Hokusai. He used a reproduction of that print on the cover of the original score. This famous image is stylised but not Impressionistic. In her programme note, Caroline Rae points out that Debussy ‘compared his vibrant orchestration with the paintings of Les Fauves (‘The Wild Beasts’), ‘famed in Paris at the time for their dramatic use of colour.’

The Great Wave off Kanagawa by the Japanese Artist Hokusai. Source: Metropolitan Museum of Art via Wikimedia Commons

On Saturday, the wild beast of the sea was unleashed by the BBC Philharmonic under conductor Elena Schwarz. Her conducting revealed the central paradox of this piece, which Robert Philip describes in his excellent book The Classical Music Lover’s Companion to Orchestral Music,

‘It’s easy to forget that such a well-known orchestral masterpiece, on first hearing, may seem formless, a succession of washes of sound, or a sort of ‘stream of consciousness.’’

This is the effect that Debussy presumably wanted to achieve – the rawness of nature exhibited in the terrible beauty of the sea. As Philps points out,

‘There is nothing vague or haphazard about [Debussy’s] compositional methods. The whole work is carefully structured using a small number of motifs that recur and are transformed.’

Schwarz’s conducting was very precise and measured, superbly controlling the apparent turbulence of the orchestral writing. The opening movement, De L’aube à Midi Sur la Mer (From Dawn to Midday on the Sea) began in a mood of intense quiet, with glittering, shimmering sounds describing the breaking of dawn. There was a beautiful patchwork of orchestral colour, as the sea ceaselessly ebbed and flowed. There were lovely solos from Victoria Daniel (flute), leader Zoë Beyers (violin) and Henrietta Cooke (cor anglais).

In the second movement, Jeux de Vagues (Games of Waves), Schwarz brought out great detail in Debussy’s orchestral colours, such as the glockenspiel played by Paul Patrick at the beginning and end of the movement. She captured the playful joy of the waves, and there was a lovely moment when the precision of the brass was offset against sweeping strings.

The final movement, Dialogue du Vent et de la Mer (Dialogue of the Wind and the Sea, illustrated the sea in all its moods. It began with the ominous rumble of lower strings and percussion, anxious upper strings and roaring brass. A lovely woodwind melody reached for light and hope. Lurching waves in the upper strings were offset against the lower strings, leading to a climax that brought to mind a similar climax in Paul Dukas’ The Sorcerer’s Apprentice, written only a few years earlier, so memorably brought to life in Disney’s Fantasia in 1940. There was a moment of calm with a lovely violin melody, disrupted by sudden danger from the cellos. A yearning, simple melody led to a joyful climax. The sea felt powerful but no longer dangerous. Playful pizzicato on cellos was offset against shimmering brass, before the piece reached a final, stunning climax.

Dani Howard. Source: danihoward.com

Dani Howard wrote her Trombone Concerto in 2021 for Peter Moore (Saturday’s soloist) and the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra. The COVID pandemic hadn’t struck when the orchestra commissioned the work. By the time Howard began writing, the world was in lockdown, and only key workers were allowed out. The concerto is partly Howard’s tribute to those workers. As Timmy Fisher says in his programme note

‘The everyday heroics of bus drivers and refuse workers were suddenly getting the recognition they deserved. Howard’s concerto is a celebration of these people, and their resolve during the pandemic provides its emotional arc.’

The concerto began with bustling violas in the early Minimalist style of the American composer John Adams, evoking the everyday lives of those workers. The trombone entered with an insouciant four-note theme, which appeared again at the start of the second movement. Howard’s initial instruction to the trombonist is to ‘play as if you are totally oblivious to your surroundings.’ The first movement is titled ‘Realisation’, and it was fascinating to hear the moment when the trombone came into synch with the orchestra, as if suddenly realising the role the key workers had in the pandemic and wondering how to contribute. Moore played with a warm tone and evocative slides. Sometimes his playing was virtuosic, but at other times his instrument was part of the orchestral texture rather than showy. At the end of the movement, there was the first concerto-like moment when the trombone played a lyrical tune accompanied by slow orchestral chords suspended beneath.

The highlight of the concerto was the second movement, ‘Rumination’, in which the solo trombone ruminated on ‘the seed of an idea’ introduced in the first movement. Moore, using that rich tone that we associate with the North’s finest brass bands, was echoed by two muted trombones in the orchestra. A brass band chorale gradually joined, and in this moment of contemplation, it felt as if we were suspended outside time. An eternal melody wound its way gradually from one part of the orchestra to another, with slow-moving blocks of colour. Flourishes from the flutes could have come from La Mer, making this a good companion piece to the earlier piece. Finally, there was a minor explosion from the orchestra, as if a moment of resolution had finally been reached.

The final movement, ‘Illumination’, was written to be ‘as explosively positive as possible.’ It began with more Minimalism from the strings and an angular trombone part. Moore played a stunningly virtuosic passage – his playing had been superb throughout the concerto. After an ecstatic orchestral passage, the piece reached a climactic end. The orchestra smiled and clapped in acknowledgement of Moore’s magnificent playing, and Schwarz picked out the trombonists and brass section for separate applause. There were more smiles from composer Dani Howard as she came on stage to receive her applause.

The BBC Philharmonic Orchestra, conductor Elena Schwarz and trombonist Peter Moore. Photo © Chris Payne

The second half marked a return to the nature theme, in the form of Mahler’s Symphony No. 1, the ‘Titan’. It began with string harmonics and woodwind, creating a sense of stasis followed by expectation as nature came to life, marked by Mahler in the score ‘Wie ein Naturlaut’ (Like a sound of nature). Birdsong was created by a solo clarinet (John Bradbury) as a cuckoo and an oboe (Jennifer Galloway) as a chaffinch. Four offstage trumpets created the sound of hunting horns. Mahler cleverly used the cuckoo’s call to form the opening notes of his song Ging heut’ Morgen über’s Feld from his earlier song cycle Lieder eines fahrenden Gesellen (Songs of a Wayfarer). As Jo Kirkbride astutely pointed out in her programme note, this was ‘ Mahler’s first gesture towards incorporating song within the symphony.’ The song is the happiest in the cycle, describing the protagonist walking across the fields, singing about how lovely the world is. There were two joyful climaxes, then we returned to the shimmering strings of the opening, with more birdcalls: a moment of quiet joy beautifully shaped by the orchestra under Schwarz. A melody in the cellos, joyful at first, turned darker, but the birds continued singing valiantly. The danger passed, and with a sudden key change, we moved to a rustic, pastoral passage, then a serenely lilting melody. The orchestra reached a glowing climax, excellently played. The movement’s witty false ending elicited a few wry smiles from the audience.

The second movement was a robust country dance of the type that Mahler often brought into his later symphonies. Schwarz became more animated as she conducted the symphony, dancing lightly on her podium, enjoying the repeated melody. There was a slight note of sarcasm from the brass, and the writing became more sophisticated as we passed through the keys. A highlight was the perfectly controlled lower strings. A tentative horn theme led to an elegant trio, beautifully poised.

The Huntsman’s Funeral by Moritz von Schwind, 1850 (Public domain)

The third movement began with a minor-key version of Frère Jacques (Brother John), known to Mahler as Bruder Martin (Brother Martin). This reminded me of the great comedian Bill Bailey’s witty, sarcastic turning of the theme for Match of the Day and the American National Anthem into minor-key laments.  Mahler said the inspiration for the movement came from an illustration in the children’s book ‘The Huntsman’s Funeral.’ We were back in nature again, this time with a sardonic twist. Various forest animals carried the coffin in Moritz von Schwind’s 1850 woodcut. This time, the cuckoo turned his song into Die zwei blauen Augen (my love’s two blue eyes) from Lieder eines fahrenden Gesellen. The song has a bitter-sweet quality, with its constant switching between major and minor in the melody, recalling the minor-key transposition of Frère Jacques. Schwarz controlled this section beautifully. The funeral procession returned, darker and more sardonic than before, burying the Frère Jacques tune.

The fourth movement burst in with an anguished climax. The brass was stunning here, providing a visceral thrill. This movement was a showpiece for the orchestra, who played with passion, precision and conviction throughout. It was also a tribute to Mahler’s skills as a composer: despite various revisions and the fact that this was his first symphony, this movement utterly convinces. A confident march with swirling strings was punctured by a little, sarcastic descending theme that kept recurring. A never-ending string melody was decorated by the lovely solo horn played by Mihajlo Bulajic. The anguish of the start returned, with sarcastic trumpets; there was a touch of Wagner in the brass here. An ecstatic climax faded away, giving way to another long-limbed melody on the strings, beautifully played with a sense of inevitability. The cellos took over the melody. In a later symphony, Mahler could have used this to provide a glimpse of heaven, but here it represented a return to the calm of nature. The orchestra reached a sunny climax, all anguish finally gone, then fell away again. A niggling, slightly angry theme on the violas prompted a return to the opening march, now more optimistic. The hunting horns returned, and the orchestra’s struggle felt vindicated. Schwarz leapt on her podium, sharing the pure joy of the end. As directed by Mahler, several brass players stood to deliver a golden theme. We suddenly reached the sunlit uplands, with a huge final flourish. There was massive, and well-deserved applause. Schwarz highlighted individual soloists, all of whom were excellent. Ronan Dunne, the double-bass soloist, gave a lovely little twirl on his bass. Schwarz brought the whole orchestra to its feet, ending a fine performance.

BBC Philharmonic Orchestra
Peter Moore trombone
Elena Schwarz conductor

Repertoire

Debussy La Mer
Dani Howard Trombone Concerto
Mahler Symphony No. 1

Sources

Robert Philip, The Classical Music Lover’s Companion to Orchestral Music (Yale University Press, 2018)
Dani Howard and Timmy Fisher: Sleeve Notes to Dani Howard Orchestral Works (Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra)
Programme notes by Caroline Rae, Timmy Fisher and Jo Kirkbride

Broadcast

The concert concert will be broadcast on In Concert on BBC Radio 3 on 18 November and will be available for 30 days after broadcast via BBC Sounds

Read on…

The Bach Choir and the Philharmonia Orchestra – Mahler Symphony No. 8 – Live Review

Thursday 9 October 2025

St Paul’s Cathedral, London

*****

A stunning opening to the Bach Choir’s 150th anniversary season in the most dramatic of settings

How do you open the 150th anniversary season of one of Britain’s finest choirs? An announcement from an official at St Paul’s Cathedral welcomed us to the site of Christian worship for the last 1400 years. The current building was consecrated over 300 years ago. We were promised ‘an evening of immense drama’, and the cathedral added to the music’s drama, in both sight and sound.

The Bach Choir could have returned to Bach’s Mass in B Minor (so memorably conducted by the Choir’s conductor, David Hill, in Manchester recently). This would have been apt as the Choir did the first performance of that work in Britain. Elgar’s The Dream of Gerontius would also have been suitable for the Choir and the building, but they did perform it not long ago at The Royal Festival Hall. Beethoven’s Symphony No. 9 (the Choral Symphony) is magnificent, but the choir only comes in at the end. Perhaps Beethoven’s Missa Solemnis? Some would argue that choral writing wasn’t Beethoven’s strongest suit – it’s certainly demanding, although that wouldn’t have been a problem for a choir of this quality. Requiems by Duruflé and Fauré are too delicate for such a momentous occasion. Requiems by Mozart and Verdi would probably have been better suited, particularly the latter, due to its operatic scale. The Choir decided on an even more operatic piece, Mahler’s Symphony No. 8, subtitled the ‘Symphony of a Thousand’ (although not by the composer himself) due to the immense number of choral and orchestral forces and soloists involved. Remarkably, the Choir had already existed for over 40 years when the symphony premiered in 1910.

Mahler’s epic work was written for double choir, children’s choir (originally a boys’ choir), eight soloists, large orchestra and organ. St Paul’s Cathedral has a suitably impressive acoustic. One study by academics at The City University in London found that it has a reverberation time of up to 11 seconds at specific frequencies when empty, or around eight seconds when full. This compares to around 2.3 seconds for a modern concert hall like Manchester’s Bridgewater Hall.

The Bach Choir, London Youth Choir Cambiata Girls’ Choir, the Philharmonia Orchestra, Conductor David Hill and soloists. Photo © Andy Paradise

Part I Veni Creator Spriritus

From our seats about half way down the Nave, the effect of the cathedral’s incredible acoustics on the music in the opening Veni Creator Spiritus was almost overwhelming. This section of the piece is Mahler’s musical invocation of the creative spirit, set to the words of the Pentecostal hymn (see box below). A great ocean of sound surrounded us, lapping around the great pillars of the cathedral. Changes in harmony and orchestral colour, beautifully controlled by David Hill, stood out like the peaks of great waves. The strings were sweet-toned in the acoustic, and the pinpoint accuracy of the players was still evident. At times, it felt like a vision in a dream, with great swathes of sound like the ‘rushing mighty wind’ that came upon the Apostles at Pentecost filling ‘all the house.’ The Choir ranged from ecstatic, life-affirming singing to a subtle sotto voce. The children’s choir were superb in the Gloria. The solo voices created operatic scenes as if they were from a Wagner opera. The overall effect was of a terrible beauty, formidably joyful music-making.


The Pentecostal Hymn

The Pentecostal hymn Veni Creator Spiritu, with a Latin text text probably by Rabanus Maurus Magnentius, a Bendictine monk who became archbishop of Mainz in the ninth century invokes the Creator Spirit. It commemorates the descent of the Holy Spirit upon the Apostles, Mary, and other followers of Jesus in Jerusalem. An English translation by John Cosin became a popular hymn, ‘Come Holy Ghost our souls inspire/ and lighten with celestial fire.’

Pentecost by Jean Restout the Younger (1692 – 1868). Source: Wikimedia Commons

Part II The Death and Redemption of Faust

The second part of the symphony is taken from the final scene of Goethe’s Faust, in which the protagonist’s soul travels on a journey to redemption. The opening captures the moment when Faust’s soul is rescued from Mephistopheles as he falls to his death. Mahler’s symphony has apparently never been staged, but it creates an operatic scene in the listener’s imagination. The composer even provides stage directions, describing the anchorites (hermits) who dwell ‘among clefts in the rocks’ amongst ‘mountain ravines, forests, cliffs and wilderness.’ He later describes various characters ‘soaring up and down’, ‘in a deep region’ or ‘soaring in the higher atmosphere.’

Death of Faust by Émile Bayard. Source: Wikimedia Commons

The opening orchestral section richly evoked the landscape, a spellbinding depiction of the operatic scene, beautifully controlled by Hill. It settled into a gentle chorale, with shimmering strings. There were romantic, sweeping melodies with an element of yearning like those in Wagner’s Parsifal. Hill also brought out the almost atonal clashes of harmony, showing that Mahler was on the cusp of the revolution in classical music in the 20th century, but also harking back to the Romanticism of the 19th century.

The Choir continued to create a theatre of the mind, their staccato perfectly matching that of the strings. It was easy to imagine them as massed ranks of ardent anchorites. Their singing was beautifully controlled, with superb dynamics in the more legato sections. As Pater Ecstaticus, Josef Jeongmeen Ahn sang with a rich, warm-voiced baritone, with burnished high notes. As the Earth-bound Pater Profundis, Derek Welton sang with a deep, rough-hewn bass tone, but with great warmth as well. April Fredrik (Magna Peccatrix) sang with a lovely, pure voice, Hanna Hipp (Mulier Samaritana) was warm-voiced and passionate, and Zoë Jackson (Una poenitentium) was robustly Wagnerian, stunningly powerful. Hayley Meth as Maria Aegyptiaca was lighter-toned than the other women, with gorgeous, florid singing. The highlight amongst the excellent soloists was the tenor Brenden Gunnell as Dr Marianus. His voice had something of the tone of the great Welsh tenor Robert Tear, golden and passionate.


Caroline Bourg (top centre) as Mater Gloriosa. Photo © Andy Paradise

There was a coup de théâtre when soprano Caroline Bourg appeared unexpectedly in the middle of the choir, singing very softly as Mater Gloriosa. All the forces combined in the final Chorus Mysticus, one of the most transcendent pieces of music in the Western canon. In this performance, superbly executed, it was a moment of pure joy, ineffable in its transcendence. The audience burst into ecstatic applause with a standing ovation. This was the perfect way to celebrate the Choir’s anniversary. The occasion will reverberate in the memory for a long time.

Repertoire
Gustav Mahler Symphony No. 8 in E-flat major

Performers
Philharmonia Orchestra
The Bach Choir
London Youth Choir Cambiata Girls’ Choir
David Hill conductor

April Fredrick Soprano 1 / Magna Peccatrix
Zoë Jackson Soprano 2 / Una poenitentium
Caroline Bourg Soprano 3 / Mater Gloriosa
Hanna Hipp Alto 1 / Mulier Samaritana
Hayley Meth Alto 2 / Maria Aegyptiaca
Brenden Gunnell Tenor / Dr Marianus
Josef Jeongmeen Ahn Baritone / Pater Ecstaticus
Derek Welton Bass / Pater Profundus

Sources
Lewers, T. H. and Anderson, J. S., Some acoustical properties of St Paul’s Cathedral, London (Journal of Sound and Vibration, Volume 92, Issue 2, p. 285-297, January 1984)
Cox, T., Measuring the acoustics of the Bridgewater Hall (The Sound Blog 10 October 2013)

Correction

This post was updated on Monday 13 October 2025 at 19.34 BST to correct the reference to the paper by Lewers, T. H. and Anderson, J. S., which referred to ‘Academics at Harvard’. This has been changed to The City University (London).

Southwell Music Festival 2025 Day One – Mahler and the Folksong, Festival Cabaret, Festival Jazz – Live Review

Southwell Minster

Friday 22 August 2025 

Southwell Minster

Mahler and the Folksong – songs from Des Knaben Wunderhorn, and traditional folksongs arr. Gemma Bass 
The Quire, Southwell Minster 

This took place in the beautiful and intimate surroundings of the Quire in Southwell Minster. The audience sat in the choir stalls while the musicians performed on the steps to the Chancel. Marcus Farnsworth, Founder and Artistic Director of Southwell Music Festival, and baritone for this recital, introduced us to the eleventh festival, following last year’s triumphant tenth anniversary celebrations. He said he had enjoyed last year’s Bank Holiday Monday concert in the Minster’s Chapter House, with musicians including the mezzo-soprano Judy Louie Brown and the composer and violinist Gemma Bass, so they decided to do something similar this year.  

The Quire of Southwell Minster, with the statue of Bishop George Ridding (far right)

Gustav Mahler returned to texts from Des Knaben Wunderhorn (The Boy’s Magic Horn), an early nineteenth-century collection of German folk poems and songs, on several occasions, including movements of his second, third and fourth symphonies, various song collections, and the song cycle Lieder eines fahrenden Gesellen (Songs of a Wayfarer). In her programme note, Gemma Bass described Mahler’s songs as follows: 

‘There’s a focus on humanness and nature, both in his subjects and his approach, but there’s also an incredible depth and something bigger being tapped into here – his own genius, perhaps, or his faith – and of course a remarkable command of musical language.’ 

Libby Burgess and Marcus Farnsworth. © Tom Platinum Morley

Farnsworth sang the five Mahler songs in the concert with accompanist Libby Burgess. Both musicians skilfully drew out the subtleties of Mahler’s musical language. They began with Wo die schönen Trompeten blasen (Where the splendid trumpets sound). Farnsworth brought out the tenderness and poignancy of this early morning meeting between a soldier and his lover before he went to war. He was more robust in Revelge (Reveille), with a rich tone and boisterous demeanour, Burgess superbly illustrating the drums played by the jolly soldier as he sang ‘Tralalee, tralalay, tralala.’ But the song had an underlying poignancy, described in the chilling final verse, ‘There in the morning lie their bones/In rank and file like tombstones.’  The Schubert-like folk song Rheinlegendchen (Little Rhine Legend) about unrequited love had a lovely flowing piano part, and there was a glimpse of hope at the end. Farnsworth’s superb word-painting was again evident in Wer hat das Liedlein erdacht? (Who made up this little song?) as he brought out the song’s gentle humour. But the highlight of his contribution was Urlicht (Primordial Light), the fourth movement of Mahler’s Second Symphony. The poem describes returning to God with the hope of resurrection, and as Farnsworth sang it, I noticed a statue of a praying figure with his back to us as if turning to God, George Ridding, first Bishop of Southwell (1884 – 1904). Farnsworth sang from the depths of inward, contemplative stillness. Burgess’s touch on the piano was sublime. The song’s ending was ecstatic, as the protagonist passed into eternal life. 

Judy Louie Brown, Gemma Bass, Lena Eckels and Nathaniel Boyd © Tom Platinum Morley

Gemma Bass said in her programme note that her English folk song arrangements were inspired by the contrast between Mahler’s ‘simplicity and complexity.’ She told the audience that she wanted to bring out Mahlerian contrasts between the personal and the universal, nature and humanity, love and war. Even the building where the concert took place was a mixture of the manmade and the nature carvings of the Minster (such as those celebrated in The Leaves of Southwell project). Bass took songs famously set by Benjamin Britten, Polly Oliver, O Waly Waly and Come you not from Newcastle? plus the traditional Northumbrian song, The Oak and the Ash, and radically transformed them. Mezzo-soprano Judy Louie Brown sang the songs with a warm, generous tone and a gentle, folky inflexion. The string players – Bass herself on violin, Lena Eckels on viola and Nathaniel Boyd on cello – often seemed to provide an ironic commentary on the jolly-sounding folk tunes, in the kind of contrast Mahler would have enjoyed. So Sweet Polly Oliver’s traditional tune was accompanied by violin and viola that sounded like bagpipes and a bell-like drone, perhaps to cast doubt on the female protagonist’s decision to please her lover better, having bravely followed him to war dressed in her dead brother’s clothes. In the bold arrangement of O Waly Waly, the strings darkly enhanced the narrative of unrequited love. Bass also wrote two Mahler-inspired instrumentals. Rosy Dawn, which took its title from the words ‘Die Morgenröt’ from Wo die schönen Trompeten blasen, featured a folky violin tune, soon joined by the viola, over a cello drone. There was a feeling of gently pensive stasis, which shifted like a flowing river, constantly changing but always the same. Three Geese took its title from the ‘drei Gäns’ of Wer hat das Liedlein erdacht? It began in the same contemplative mode as Rosy Dawn but gradually became more folky, jazzy and joyful. It ended with a humorous little squiggle, which made the audience smile. A lovely end to a delightful concert. 

Performers 
Judy Louie Brown mezzo-soprano
Marcus Farnsworth baritone 
Libby Burgess piano
Gemma Bass violin 
Lena Eckels viola 
Nathaniel Boyd cello 


Festival Cabaret 
Southwell Library 

Festival Voices © Tom Platinum Morley

Amongst the displays about the local history of Southwell, this was the first time a Festival main event took place in Southwell Library on the high street, just a short walk from the Minster. The Festival Voices performed a well-chosen mix of songs from musicals, 60s and 70s pop and rock, and music from Gershwin, Flanders and Swann, the Ink Spots, Hoagy Carmichael and Victoria Wood. All were guaranteed to raise smiles of recognition and tapping of toes in the capacity audience. 

The concert began with a showcase for the superb a cappella close harmony singing of Festival Voices, including two lovely Beatles covers. Here, There and Everywhere followed the template of the original harmonies, but with added decorations in a Swingle Singers style. Blackbird was part of the concert’s avian theme, which somehow got lost along the way; no matter! The singers mimicked guitars and whistled stylishly. A false ending raised laughter from the audience, and the real ending raised more laughter. In between, there was a stunning rendition of The Ink Spots’ 1940 hit Java Jive. There were vocal sound effects, including drumming, an upright bass and hearty ‘Aahs’ to show how much the singers loved coffee and tea.  

Individual singers from within the choir had a chance to shine, too. Chris Webb sang Hippopotamus by Flanders and Swann with operatic aplomb, and the audience gamely covered themselves in metaphorical mud in the choruses. Oliver Hunt sang Bernstein’s On the Town in a poignant rendition, and a passionate Lost in the Stars, acting out the words expressively. Alastair Brookshaw created a Bridge Over Troubled Water, echoing the delicacy of Art Garfunkel’s voice with a liquid legato in a rousing performance. He returned in a fantastic coup de théâtre, dressed as a priest and wishing the house peace as he flew onto the stage in ecclesiastical turmoil. He perfectly illustrated the painful dilemma of the protagonist in Bishop’s Song from Sondheim’s last musical, Here We Are. There was another ecclesiastical protagonist when Carrys Jones, minus the habit of the Mother Abbess, sang an operatic, heartfelt version of Climb Ev’ry Mountain.  

There was a piano interlude when the two accompanists, Libby Burgess and Paul Provost, treated us to a selection of four-hand arrangements from Gershwin’s Porgy and Bess. They played a lilting version of Summertime, a rollicking, jazzy version of It Ain’t Necessarily So, and a short but very sweet I Got Plenty O’ Nuttin. The concert ended with more joyous close harmony frolics from Festival Voices. There was a witty version of Queen’s vaudeville pastiche, Lazing on a Sunday Afternoon, complete with kazoos, honouring the band’s famous ‘No Synthesisers!’ avowal. There was Tin Pan Alley close harmony in Hoagy Carmichael’s Skylark, with excellent solos from the choir. But perhaps the highlight of the whole concert was Victoria Wood’s wickedly naughty Ballad of Barry and Freda (Let’s Do It), which features the immortal line, ‘Beat me on the bottom with a Woman’s Weekly.’ We felt sorry for poor old Barry being harassed by his wife. The song went down a storm – a fantastic ending to a superb concert. A splendid time was guaranteed for all. 

Performers
Libby Burgess piano
Paul Provost piano
Festival Voices – soloists Chris Webb, Oliver Hunt, Alastair Brookshaw, Carrys Jones


Duke Ellington’s ‘Sacred Concert’ 
The Nave, Southwell Minster 

When conductor and Artistic Director Marcus Farnsworth was 12 and studying trumpet, he discovered Simon Rattle’s The Jazz Album, which he recorded in 1987 with London Sinfonietta and others. Farnsworth was fascinated by the final piece on the album, Leonard Bernstein’s Prelude, Fugue and Riffs and always wanted to conduct it. With trumpeter Graham South, he devised a concert which included the Bernstein piece, and his dream was realised – in what he described as ‘a new departure’ for the Festival – an orchestral jazz concert with choir and clarinet and soprano soloists. 

South and Farnsworth chose music from Duke Ellington and his long-time collaborator, Billy Strayhorn, to pair with the Bernstein. In his invaluable programme notes, South quoted a comment Bernstein made to Ellington in a TV interview in 1966, 

Well maybe that’s really the difference between us – you wrote symphonic jazz, and I wrote jazz symphonies

Leonard Bernstein talking to Duke Ellington on 2 July 1966
© WTMJ-TV, a Journal Broadcast Group Station

The musicians were the Manchester-based Cottontail Orchestra, comprised of freelance musicians from various ensembles, including Beats & Pieces Big Band and Manchester Jazz Collective. Appropriately, they began the concert with the Duke Ellington composition Cottontail. This was lively big band jazz, idiomatically played with superbly virtuosic soloists. At one point, a sax quintet stood up to play some gorgeous close harmony, similar to what we had heard in the Festival Cabaret earlier. Strayhorn’s Isfahan showcased the extraordinary talent of alto sax player Emily Burkhardt, whose beautiful tone featured sensuous slides and a melismatic flow, with quivering vibrato and bluesy note bends. A surprise but welcome addition to the programme was Ellington’s Happy-Go-Lucky Local, which has a slightly sleazy and sarcastic sound, describing a local train heaving its way along the track – some material from the much more famous Night Train could also be heard. For Prelude to a Kiss, the band were joined by soprano Clare Wheeler, whose voice was suitably mellow with a touch of the great Ella Fitzgerald. The final Ellington piece in the first half was Kinda Dukish/Rockin’ in Rhythm, with a lovely syncopated piano intro from Adam Fairhall, followed by joyfully intricate big band music. Farnsworth described Prelude, Fugue and Riffs as the ‘meeting point of classical and jazz’, with a prelude for brass and kit, an ‘actual fugue’ for saxophone, and Matt Glendening on solo clarinet in the riffs section. Touches of 20th-century classical music could be heard, such as Stravinsky’s Les noces, which features four pianos. There was an almost avant-garde section, but also some Rhapsody in Blue-style clarinet playing and plenty of stunning big band music. Farnsworth worked very hard, bringing out a superbly life-affirming performance from the players. 

Duke Ellington. Source: Wikimedia Commons/Public Domain

Part two was devoted to Duke Ellington’s Sacred Concert, which has a complicated performance history. The Concert of Sacred Music was premiered sixty years ago, in mid-September 1965, at Grace Cathedral, San Francisco. The Second Sacred Concert was premiered in 1968, and the Third in 1973. Ellington had reused some of his music from previous compositions, and when touring the Concert he was often joined by local choirs, and he adapted music from all three versions to suit their abilities. Farnsworth conducted a fourth version, which he described as ‘the best of all three Sacred Concerts’, produced in 1993 by John Høybye and Peder Pedersen for soprano solo, choir and big band. The version he chose was, in his words, ‘appropriate for the building.’ This was true in a religious sense, but also in an acoustic sense as the Minster’s superb acoustics are clear, warm and generous, ideal for big band jazz and chamber choir.  

Graham South (standing). © Tom Platinum Morley

Farnsworth was right to choose a version of the Concert that emphasised the choir’s contribution. The Festival Voices were ecstatic in the opening Praise God, based on Psalm 150, and when they repeated the words, there was a bluesy big band beneath. In Heaven, they sang like the best of Hollywood choruses. There were moments of sublime beauty when they sang a cappella in Freedom, Come Sunday and Almighty God. There was also the chance for soprano Clare Wheeler to demonstrate her skills, including scatting in The Majesty of God, some avant-garde vocalising in T.G.T.T. (Too Good To Title) and a warm legato in David Danced Before the Lord. The Cottontail Orchestra matched the quality of the choir. Highlights included: Graham South’s trumpet solo in The Shepherd, using his mute to create an earthy, almost feral growling sound; Johnny Hunter’s drum solo at the start of David Danced…; and the tireless playing of bass player Joshua Cavanagh-Brierly throughout. The piece ended with an invitation to Praise God and Dance, an ecstatic hymn to God. Although there was no actual dancing in the audience, our spirits danced as the concert came to a rapturous end. 

Performers 
Clare Wheeler soprano
Matthew Glendening clarinet
Festival Voices
The Cottontail Orchestra
Marcus Farnsworth conductor 

Repertoire 
Duke Ellington Cottontail 
Billy Strayhorn and Duke Ellington Isfahan
Duke Ellington Happy-Go-Lucky Local
Duke Ellington Prelude to a Kiss
Harry Carney, Irving Mills and Duke Ellington Kinda Dukish/Rockin’ in Rhythm
Leonard Bernstein Prelude, Fugue and Riffs 

Duke Ellington, arr. John Høybye and Peder Pedersen Sacred Concert 


For a review of Day Two of the Festival, click here

BBC Philharmonic Orchestra – Mahler Symphony No. 3 ‘The Voice of Nature’ – Live Review

John Storgårds, Jess Dandy and the BBC Philharmonic Orchestra. Photo: Chris Payne

Saturday 14 June 2025

Bridgewater Hall, Manchester

*****

John Storgårds conducts the BBC Philharmonic Orchestra in a breathtaking performance of Mahler’s Third Symphony

John Storgårds, Jess Dandy and the BBC Philharmonic Orchestra. Photo: Chris Payne
John Storgårds, Jess Dandy and the BBC Philharmonic Orchestra. Photo: Chris Payne

Having just come back from the Shostakovich Festival in Leipzig, with performances by two of the world’s most renowned orchestras – the Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra and the Boston Symphony Orchestra – I was looking forward to returning to the Bridgewater Hall in Manchester for a concert by the BBC Philharmonic Orchestra by way of comparison.

The Leipzig Gewandhaus concert hall, where the Festival took place, has an internal design similar to Manchester’s magnificent Bridgewater Hall, and both feature fine acoustics – Prof. Trevor Cox of the University of Salford chose the latter as one of the best concert halls in the world. It’s gratifying to report that the BBC Philharmonic, shortlisted for Gramophone‘s Orchestra of the Year award in 2023, more than matched their illustrious rivals in a stunning performance of Mahler’s gargantuan Third Symphony on Saturday.

Interior of The Gewandhaus, Leipzig
Interior of The Gewandhaus, Leipzig. Photo: author’s own

The concert was billed as ‘the voice of nature’, but as Stephen Johnson said in his astute and informative programme note, Mahler perhaps had Nietzsche in mind when he wrote the following,

Mahler provided subtitles for each of the six movements, showing how they related to nature. Although he later withdrew them, they still offer a valuable guide to the symphony’s journey from the awakening of elemental nature, via communications from flowers and animals to what humankind and the angels communicate, to a vision of love and perhaps even heaven or God. The subtitles are quoted below.

Movement One Pan Awakes – Summer Marches In (Bacchic procession)

The hugely ambitious opening movement is almost as long as the combined length of the remaining five movements. On its own, it’s as long as many full-length symphonies, but anyone expecting a clear symphonic development in its structure would be confused. As Stephen Johnson points out, it ‘feels more like a fantastic kaleidoscope of wildly contrasting sounds.’

The movement began with a splendid brass opening, rich, bright, and strident, followed by passionately anguished lower strings, spiky trumpets and shimmering upper strings. Conductor John Storgårds brought out the detail of this strange but compelling music, combining precision with passion, as he did throughout this superb performance.

An ominous bass drum announced Pan, the god of the wild, rousing himself with what sounded like a Wagnerian funeral march. Offset against this was a lilting, pastoral section for woodwind and strings, with a Romantic violin solo from Leader Zoë Beyers, whose solos were all excellent.

The highlight of the movement was a series of solos from trombonist Richard Brown; at times, it was a concerto for trombone and orchestra. His playing was warm and rich, with a lovely legato and a mellow tone set against harmonically shifting, evocative lower strings.

The movement ended with the Bacchic procession, led by the god Bacchus (the Roman name for the Greek god Dionysus, god of wine and fertility). There was an explosion of joy and ecstasy, a stunning ending to the first half of the symphony. Although it was tempting to applaud, the audience sat in respectful silence.

Movement Two – What the Flowers in the Meadow Tell Me

After the tumultuous onslaught and epic length of the first movement, the second movement is a short minuet. Mahler allowed it to be performed separately before the whole symphony was premiered, with mixed feelings, ‘This modest little piece will no doubt present me to the public as the ‘sensuously’ perfumed ‘singer of nature.’ He wanted the complete symphony to show that ‘nature hides within itself everything that is frightful, great and also lovely.’

The BBC Philharmonic brought out the loveliness of this movement, with graceful, sweeping strings that created an idealised image of pastoral meadows, recalling Wordsworth’s lines from his Ode: Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood (1807).

The orchestra played the movement with a precision and lightness of touch that was remarkable for such large forces. The effect was enchanting and gently uplifting.

Movement Three – What the Animals in the Forest Tell Me

The third movement is dedicated to the animals of the forest, and the wisdom they communicate. The animals are gentle, enjoying their pastoral setting, with perhaps a hint of sadness and a little jeopardy.

The movement began with a characterful clarinet solo by John Bradbury, followed by themes that scattered across the orchestra like a waterfall. The frolicking of the forest animals was interrupted by an offstage trumpet, played by Gwyn Owen, representing a post horn that seemed to evoke nostalgia for the countryside. Owen’s playing was mellow, rich and warm with a beautiful legato.

There was a heart-stopping moment of stasis when suspended strings and hymn-like brass accompanied the trumpet. It seemed we were heading for a gentle ending to the movement, but Mahler wanted to remind us of the wildness of Pan, and the brutality lurking beneath nature’s serene surface.

Movement Four – What Humanity Tells Me

The first movement, which describes the effect of humanity on the composer, aptly features a mezzo-soprano singing a text by Friedrich Nietzsche from his philosophical novel Also sprach Zarathustra (1883–85). This mysterious passage describes ‘midnight’ addressing humankind about the depth of joy and pain in the world, and the battle between the two.

There was luxury casting on Saturday, with the contralto Jess Dandy, who was so impressive in last April’s performance of Bach’s St John Passion, returning to the Bridgewater Hall. Her deep, warm contralto tones were ideally suited to the profound text. Time was suspended as we reflected on the ‘deep eternity’ of the text.

Jess Dandy. Photo: Clare Park

Movement Five – What the Angels Tell Me

The fifth movement takes its text Es sungen drei Engel einen süßen Gesang (Three Angels Sang a Sweet Song) from Des Knaben Wunderhorn (The Boy’s Magic Horn), the collection of folk poems that Mahler returned to so often. The children’s choir opens the movement singing ‘Bimm, bamm’ to represent bells, joined by real bells from the orchestra. The three-part women’s chorus represents the angels, later joined by the soprano soloist, singing for joy because Saint Peter has been absolved from his sin in denying Jesus.

Offstage bells. Photo: Chris Payne
Grahm Johns with offstage bells. Photo: Chris Payne

The choirs were made up of CBSO Children’s Chorus and Youth Chorus, and women of the Hallé Choir. The children, having sat quietly through over an hour of music, were well-drilled, singing without scores, and bringing lively tones to the music. The women sang mellifluously, joined by the luxurious warmth of Dandy’s contralto. The overall effect was suitably angelic and heavenly.

Movement Six – What Love Tells Me

The symphony is bookended by another long, instrumental movement. Mahler summed up its place in the symphony’s journey,

On Saturday, the BBC Philharmonic, under its Chief Conductor John Storgårds, beautifully illustrated the final ascent. The movement began with a quietly ecstatic string melody; Storgårds stepped back on the podium as if to luxuriate in the sound that was reminiscent of Wagener’s Parsifal. An ecstatic climax on strings and horns revealed a vision of heaven, of quiet joy lovingly created by the orchestra. There was a hymn-like sense of inevitability, with warm but precise ensemble.

The orchestra shone, shimmering with joy, as it reached another transcendent climax, with Storgårds becoming more vigorous and animated. The music fell away with a gentle string melody, until there was another climax of terrifying beauty and luminescence, similar to the moment in Edward Elgar’s Dream of Gerontius when the Soul is briefly in the ‘awful Presence of its God.’

The brass played a lovely chorale, beautifully controlled like the finest of brass bands. Storgårds danced on the podium at the final climax, with almost the whole orchestra playing the final joyful melody as we ascended into heaven; there was a moment of peace, followed by a massive concluding chord with vigorous double timpani.

John Storgårds and the BBC Philharmonic Orchestra. Photo: Chris Payne
John Storgårds and the BBC Philharmonic Orchestra. Photo: Chris Payne

Storgårds began to drop his arms slowly; the convention is that the audience waits until this gesture is complete, but the audience were having none of, bursting immediately into rapturous applause. This marked the end of an outstanding performance, proving that there is no need to leave Manchester to experience the highest quality music-making.

Programme

Gustav Mahler Symphony No. 3 in D minor

Performers

BBC Philharmonic Orchestra
John Storgårds conductor
Jess Dandy contralto
Hallé Choir
CBSO Children’s Chorus
CBSO Youth Chorus

The concert will be broadcast on BBC Radio 3 on Wednesday 2 July at 19.30, and will be available for 30 days after broadcast on BBC Sounds.