Tag: Live Music

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Prog Rock Prom: A Fanfare for the Common Man – Live Review

Saturday 18 July 2026

Royal Albert Hall, London

★★★★

There’s life in the old prog yet… A celebration of the classic era of British prog rock

The BBC Concert Orchestra and conductor Robert Ames.
Image © Andy Paradise

The first-ever rock band to appear at the Proms was Soft Machine on 13 August 1970. The first-ever Prog Rock Prom took place on Saturday evening, over 50 years later. The concerts were united by one Soft Machine track, Out-Bloody-Rageous. A contemporary critic for Music Review wrote of the earlier concert, which dared to feature rock music,

‘I should like to know on what premises I am expected to take seriously a small group of musicians whose range of tone does not exist and whose scale of dynamics is no more than an unvarying FFF’

Oh dear. Martin King of Jazz Journal described it as ‘an exciting, juxtapositioning of some of the more recent developments in both pop and classical fields’. Saturday’s concert juxtaposed a classical symphony orchestra with ‘the love that dare not speak its name’, as presenter Stuart Maconie described a love for prog rock. The concert began with a direct link between the two genres – Aaron Copland’s Fanfare for the Common Man, which had opened the First Night of the Proms the previous evening. Like the other pieces in the concert, it was arranged for full orchestra, joyfully replicating Keith Emerson’s keyboards from the Emerson, Lake and Palmer version. Carl Palmer, sadly the only surviving member of ELP, added further authenticity, playing thunderous drums in what looked like a glass-walled prison at the corner of the stage (had he committed The Crime of the Century?)

The concert featured arrangements of songs from the classic era of British Prog, from around the late 60s to the mid 70s, when prog rock often bothered the upper reaches of the charts. This was a celebration rather than an excavation of former glories.

The excellent flute soloist in Jethro Tull’s Living in the Past, disappointingly, didn’t stand on one leg. Singer Gruff Rhys (Super Furry Animals), standing on both legs, seemed a little bit wobbly in his interpretation of the song, although he recovered his composure later in the concert.

‘West is Mike and Susie/West is where I love.’
Peter Hammill. Image © Andy Paradise

Jane Weaver reminded us that 60s prog also included ballads, bringing her powerful vocals to The Northern Lights and Nights in White Satin in massive orchestral arrangements that brought all the pomp and circumstance for which prog rock is sometimes criticised. But there was delicacy too, in the gentle pastoral section and flute solo at the end of the latter piece. And Prog Rock Royalty, Peter Hammill of Van der Graaf Generator, delivered a phenomenal performance of his classic ballad Refugees, turning it into a mini-epic with a gorgeous ending on harp and strings.

‘And you and I climb over the sea to the valley’
The Staves. Image © Andy Paradise

The Elder Statesman of Prog was followed by two much younger singers, the Staves, whose lovely duetting was perfectly suited to the elegant stylings of And You and I by Yes. Sadly, we embarrassed ourselves by applauding before the song had finished; we consoled ourselves by applauding a BBC engineer who removed the Staves’ mic stands, to show that our applause was intended to be witty rather than misplaced.

At the end of the first half, there were awed gasps of recognition at the opening of Mike Oldfield’s Tubular Bells (or were they gasps of horror at the opening theme of The Exorcist?) After the proggiest of themes – it’s in 15/8 – we jumped to the end of Part I of the piece in which the instruments were introduced by a Master of Ceremonies. In a clever twist, Matt Berry, channelling the voice of Vivian Stanshall, turned it into a Prog Rocker’s Guide to the Orchestra.

The second half began with an opening flourish, the late Greg Lake singing, ‘Welcome back my friends to the show that never ends.’ Maconie reassured us that it would actually end before ten o’clock, good news for England football fans who were desperate to see if England could beat France. (If football didn’t Come Home during the World Cup, then at least the Bayeux Tapestry is coming home.)

Maconie introduced a detour from British Prog Rock: Sylvia by the Dutch group Focus, Komfo by the Ghanaian-Caribbean group Osibisa, and Peaches en Regalia by Frank Zappa. It could be argued that these songs are prog-adjacent rather than pure prog, but the Concert Orchestra played them with swing and panache.

‘Cat’s foot, iron claw/Neurosurgeons scream for more/At paranoia’s poison door.’
Guy Garvey © Andy Paradise

An early highlight of the second half was a sequence from King Crimson’s In the Court of the Crimson King, the album that arguably started it all, . It was perfectly suited to an orchestral arrangement, the music opening ‘like a rough beast slouching towards Bethlehem’, in W.B. Yeats’ memorable phrase. Guy Garvey did a superb job, creating a dystopian atmosphere in 21st Century Schizoid Man, donning dark glasses and singing through a megaphone. Rhys and Garvey duetted melodiously in I Talk to the Wind, with gracious orchestral accompaniment. An appropriately majestic orchestral theme introduced The Court of the Crimson King, as Jane Weaver and The Staves joined the regal choir.

Garvey told us that to sing Entangled by Genesis was ‘a dream come true for a boy born in 1974’, only a year before the song was released. After the terrible glory of King Crimson, the elegant Baroque version of the song, in a duet with Weaver, was a fascinating contrast. There was more Baroque inspiration in the arrangement of Gentle Giant’s On Reflection, which would have felt at home on BBC Radio 3’s The Early Music Show.

‘I never said I was frightened of dying.’
Vanessa Haynes © Andy Paradise

Another highlight of the second half was Vanessa Haynes’ astonishing rendition of Richard Wright’s The Great Gig in the Sky. There were whoops of recognition in response to the spellbinding piano chords, with evocative slides from the orchestra. Haynes sang with raw emotion, soulful and profoundly moving, and a huge wave of orchestral power brought this classic to an end.

The Great Gate of Kiev was written for piano by the Russian composer Modest Mussorgsky, arranged for orchestra by Ravel (and many others), arranged for rock band by ELP, and in turn arranged for orchestra by conductor Robert Ames. Carl Palmer joined the orchestra again, adding his trademark heavy and virtuosic drumming to the final, incredible climax of the concert.

‘We could argue until the cows come home’
The back cover of Atom Heart Mother © Pink Floyd Music/Hipgnosis

We could argue until the cows come home whether the set list truly reflected the complete range of prog rock; passionate debate about the definition of prog rock still rages online, and there is a new generation of prog rock artists whose work also deserves to be heard. But the fact that prog rock of any kind has reached the Proms at all is worth celebrating; the standing ovation at the end showed that the audience was very happy to be there. Can we dare to hope that a Prog Rock Prom will become an annual event… or are those hopes just ‘pigs on the wing’?

Performers

Guy Garvey vocals
Jane Weaver vocals
Gruff Rhys vocals
Carl Palmer drums
Peter Hammill vocals
Vanessa Haynes vocals
The Staves (Jessica and Camilla Staveley-Taylor) vocals
Stuart Maconie presenter
BBC Concert Orchestra
Robert Ames conductor

Programme

Fanfare for the Common Man Aaron Copland arr. ELP, orch. Robert Ames (Emerson, Lake and Palmer single 1977)
Living in the Past orch. Sam Gale (Jethro Tull single 1969)
Out-Bloody-Rageous – Part 1 orch. Sam Gale (Soft Machine Third 1970)
I Know What I Like (In Your Wardrobe) orch. Sam Gale (Genesis single 1974)
Northern Lights orch. Christian Balvig (Renaissance single 1978)
Nights in White Satin orch. Fiona Brice (The Moody Blues single 1967)
Refugees orch. Adam Dennis (Van der Graaf Generator The Least we can do is Wave to each other 1970)
And You and I orch. Peter Riley (Yes Close to the Edge 1972)
Tubular Bells Part One (excerpt) orch. Adam Dennis (Mike Oldfield Tubular Bells 1973) with the voice of Matt Berry

Karn Evil 9: First Impression Part 2 orch. Chester Tribley/Bronte Tucker (Emerson, Lake and Palmer Brain Salad Surgery 1973) with original vocals recorded by Greg Lake
Sylvia orch. Christian Balvig (Focus single 1972)
Komfo orch. Christian Balvig (Osibisa Osibirock 1974)
Peaches en Regalia orch. Christian Balvig (Frank Zappa Hot Rats 1969)
21st Century Schizoid Man – I Talk to the Wind – The Court of the Crimson King orch. Fiona Brice (King Crimson In the Court of the Crimson King 1969)
Entangled orch. Fiona Brice (Genesis A Trick of the Tale 1976)
On Reflection orch. Sam Gale (Gentle Giant Free Hand 1975)
Maker of Islands orch. Christian Balvig (The Incredible String Band Hard Rope & Silken Twine 1974)
The Great Gig in the Sky orch. Fiona Brice (Pink Floyd The Dark Side of the Moon 1973)
Crime of the Century orch. Christian Balvig (Supertramp Crime of the Century 1974)
Pictures at an Exhibition – The Great Gate of Kyiv Modest Mussorgsky arr. Keith Emerson, orch. Robert Ames (Emerson, Lake and Palmer Pictures at an Exhibition 1971

The concert will be broadcast on BBC 4 on Friday 24 July at 19.00. It‘s available to listen on BBC Sounds until the end of the 2026 Proms Season

Now read on…

Peter Hammill live

Peter Hammill – Live Review

Van der Graaf Generator Live

Van der Graaf Generator – Live Review

Mike Oldfied’s Tubular Bells Live

Mike Oldfield’s Tubular Bells – 50th Anniversary European Tour – Live Review

How I Learned to Listen to King Crimson

How I learned to listen to King Crimson
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Manchester Collective  – Patterns in Repeat – Live Review

Tuesday 30 June 2026

Aviva Studios, Manchester

★★★★

The music of four titans of contemporary classical music, including a new piece from Cassie Kinoshi that was remarkable in more ways than one

Manchester Collective. Image © Mike Skelton

Tuesday evening’s concert by Manchester Collective at Aviva Studios in Manchester was titled ‘Patterns in Repeat’ with music from ‘titans in contemporary experimental music.’ Jasmin Kent Rodgman, Co-Artistic Director, announced the concert as a focus on the embodiment of music as a physical experience, featuring works by ‘four incredible contemporary women.’ It featured music by the American composer Meredith Monk, best known for her vocal works, such as Earth Seen From Above, which was performed in Manchester recently by Kantos Chamber Choir; the Brazilian-American composer, pianist and vocalist Clarice Assad; and the Canadian-British composer Cassandra Miller, who composes using ‘a unique practice of meditation-based uncontrolled singing.’ There was also a remarkable new work by composer and saxophonist Cassie Kinoshi, commissioned by the Collective.

Meredith Monk
Clarice Assad
Cassandra Miller
Cassie Kinoshi

Image Credits: Meredith Monk and Clarice Assad: Wikimedia. Cassandra Miller: Pete Furniss. Cassie Kinoshi: Mike Skelton.

The first half was bookended by two Meredith Monk pieces, starting with Phantom Strings, the fourth movement of her first string quartet, Stringsongs, written for the Kronos Quartet in 2004. The piece was built around an ostinato for first violin, which the other performers decorated with snatched phrases. With its fizzing rhythm, it had a Minimalist feel. The intricate, interlocking rhythmic patterns brought to mind the rhythms of the band BEAT, who are touring the music of 1980s King Crimson. Both sets of musicians played with the precision that is necessary to make the piece work.

Conductor Aaron Holloway-Nahum with Manchester Collective. Image © Mike Skelton

The second piece by Monk was Backlight, which she wrote in 2015 for a small ensemble of winds, strings and piano. She has described the work as playing ‘sonically with the idea of shadow and light, exploring it from different vantage points’. Aaron Holloway-Nahum, whose conducting was relaxed yet precise, explained that the musical materials were like rectangles overlapping at different angles to create complex patterns. The piece, in three continuous movements, began with the viola and cello playing a tritone ostinato with a gorgeous tone, like being trapped in a dark forest. Against this background, the winds played long discordant notes, creating an eerie, unsettling feeling. The piano crept in gently to join the ostinato. Mournful, melancholy wind parts lamented above the mesmeric patterns. The second movement showed that repeated patterns can be deeply emotional. At one point, the music seemed to describe a stark landscape from the end of the world. At the end of the movement, there was a moment of tender darkness, with a filigree piano part like a dancer pirouetting. The third movement was livelier, with complex patterns played by pianist Clíodna Shanahan, whose playing shone throughout the evening. The jazzy austerity of the music recalled some of Igor Stravinsky’s neo-classical work, restoring the possibility of hope; but that was dashed by the discordant ending.

Between the two Monk works, there was a short piece by Clarice Assad, Sonic Landscapes, I. Continuum (2022) for piano and string quartet, which was more overtly jazzy and joyful. It began with discordant piano chords over bubbling strings, then sparkling piano over fiercely plucked strings. There was a moment of stasis, with mellow piano chords and delightful key changes, played with subtle intensity. Shanahan’s improvised piano solo was lovely, and the ending was life-affirming.

‘Patterns in Repeat’ Image © Mike Skelton

The second half featured Cassie Kinoshi’s ARTEFACT/AUTOMATON, a performance memorable for more than one reason…

Kinoshi introduced her piece as the culmination of all her musical experiences to date, written at a time of burnout that ultimately proved cathartic. Her new work was inspired by the writings of Louis Chude-Sokei, professor of English at Boston University:  particularly his 2015 book The Sound of Culture: Diaspora and Black Technopoetics. In her programme note, Kinoshi explained that the piece,  

‘…draws on Louis Chude-Sokei’s concept of ‘black sonic fiction’ to explore the Black body as automaton through sound and technology. It’s a space where Black music and sound become modes of critical reflection on technology, embodiment and power – human yet object, somewhere between man and machinery, then and now.’

ARTEFACT/AUTOMATON is written for amplified piano, string quartet and pre-recorded electronics, which Kinoshi created using an ARP Odyssey and a Behringer 2600 (based on the ARP 2600). It began with heavily synthesised sound of water droplets spread across an industrial landscape, dystopian yet playful. A heavily treated male voice introduced the theme of race. The battle between humanity and machines began as the string quartet tried to assert itself above the electronics and industrial percussion. The piano introduced a looping, jazzy, repeated pattern. Beneath it all, a dark bass note lurked like a primitive being. The piano picked up a synth pattern, humanising it, but it soon became frantic and mechanical. Crackling synths and noises of static took charge again as the human players froze. The house lights flashed on as a recorded voice announced, ‘Please leave the building.’

We were so immersed in the music that we thought that this was part of the piece. With the help of the Aviva stewards, we emerged blinking into the light while the cause of the fire alarm was investigated.

The exterior of Aviva Studios, Manchester. Source: Wikimedia Commons

When the piece restarted, it was notable how much was immediately recognisable from the (partial) performance we had just heard. There was a dystopian section in which it was unclear where we were heading; we were buried in a miasma of sound. The strings felt complicit, and the piano fell silent. The lights went out on the musicians as the opening synth soundscapes returned. Had the machines won?

Kinoshi’s work raises profound questions about the Black experience and the interface between man and machine; electronic and human elements were blended to create a fascinating fusion. Lurking behind all this, like the bass note in the piece, is the role of artificial intelligence.

Steven Wilson, on his new, as-yet-untitled album, addresses the threat posed by the use of artificial intelligence in music by deliberately leaving human mistakes in. If something he has created sounds as if AI could create it, he rejects it. Is this a possible solution?

Ring the bells that still can ring

Forget your perfect offering

There is a crack, a crack in everything

That's how the light gets in

From Anthem (1992) by Leonard Cohen

The concert ended with Cassandra Miller’s Perfect Offering. Millerhad the sound of Leonard Cohen’s lines about imperfect bells ringing in her head when she wrote her piece, although beyond that there is no link with Cohen’s song. She wrote it while convalescing from an illness that made her reflect on the imperfections of the human body.

All the material in Perfect Offering is drawn from a recording of bells from a convent in France. Miller discovered that by slowing down the recording she heard ‘hidden melodies that emerged as bell-resonances combined like interleaving lines in Renaissance polyphony.’ This reminded me – conceptually at least – of Mortuos Plango, Vivos Voco (I Mourn the Dead, I Call the Living) (1980) by the British composer Jonathan Harvey, who electronically combined recordings of his son, Dominic, singing as a chorister at Winchester Cathedral with the sound of its bells.

Jasmin Kent Rodgman explained that this was a special performance of Miller’s work, with pairs of players spread across the stage, and the piano anchoring it all in the centre.

This was meditative music, with bell sounds gradually morphing so that the instruments sometimes sounded like electronics. The piano rang out passionately with five very clear bells, before we heard their slowed-down overtones. The clarinet created sounds that were like sine waves, the purest, simplest sound. The strings played without vibrato, Early Music heard through a fever dream. Shanahan reached to switch off her electronic score, as if this ritual were part of the piece, and the other musicians brought the piece to a tranquil end.

Manchester Collective. Image © Mike Skelton

Performers

Aaron Holloway-Nahum Conductor (Meredith Monk)
Haim Choi Violin
Lily Whitehurst Violin
Ruth Gibson Viola
Peggy Nolan Cello
Alex Jakeman Flute
Sergio Castelló López Clarinet
Helena Mackie Oboe
Andres Yauri Bassoon
Clíodna Shanahan Piano

Repertoire

Meredith Monk Stringsongs, IV. Phantom Strings
Clarice Assad Sonic Landscapes, I. Continuum
Meredith Monk Backlight

Cassie Kinoshi ARTEFACT/AUTOMATON
Cassandra Miller Perfect Offering

Live images taken by Mile Skelton at Southbank Centre in London on 28 June with Katherine Tinker, piano. Clíodna Shanahan played piano in Manchester

Now read on…

Manchester Collective Live

Manchester Collective – Sky With the Four Suns – Live Review
Manchester Collective x The Marian Consort: Wintering – Live Review
Manchester Collective – Shaker Loops – Live Review

The BBC Philharmonic play Cassandra Miller’s Viola Concerto I cannot love without trembling

BBC Philharmonic Orchestra – Romeo and Juliet – Live Review
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Kantos Chamber Choir – Hope on Earth – Live Review

Saturday 20 June 2026

Manchester Monastery, Gorton Lane, Manchester

★★★★★

Kantos Chamber Choir celebrates its tenth anniversary in stunning surroundings and an amazing acoustic

Kantos, RNCM and the University of Manchester Chamber Choirs, with conductor Ellie Slorach. Image © The AC Product

It’s ten years since Claire Shercliff (Company Director) and Ellie Slorach (Creative Director) founded Kantos Chamber Choir. On Saturday evening, at the after-show party in the beautiful garden of Manchester Monastery, we celebrated with a glass of prosecco while a helicopter flew overhead. There was speculation that the King would jump out of the helicopter, just as the Queen appeared to do at the opening ceremony of the 2012 London Olympics… but it turned out the helicopter was entirely unrelated. Slorach recounted some recent highlights, including singing in Victoria Baths, backing Gary Numan at his gig in the Royal Albert Hall, performing Angel’s Bone at Aviva Studios with English National Opera, and, of course, Saturday’s concert.

Co-founders Claire Shercliff (Company Director) and Ellie Slorach (Creative Director)

Slorach and Shercliff have links with the RNCM and the University of Manchester, so they invited the chamber choirs from both institutions to join the tenth-anniversary festivities. Members of Kantos wore yellow ribbons, and the others wore green and purple respectively. In a nice touch, Slorach wore a rosette of all three colours. Slorach described the concert’s epic four-part journey, from the creation of the Earth, to a reflection on the world, then to protest and peace, and finally to hope.

We began with Aaron Copland’s In the Beginning, which describes the creation story, using text from the Book of Genesis in the King James Bible. The mezzo soprano soloist, Lorna Day, walked down the aisle from the back of the Monastery to join the choir, singing in a rich, warm voice with clear diction and excellent projection. Slorach controlled the dynamics of the large choir beautifully in the cathedral-like acoustic. Her gestures were precise and fairly undemonstrative, but at the end of the piece, she spread her arms wide on the celebratory words, ‘and man became a living soul’, a stunning climax.

From the moment of creation, we passed to a reflection on what was happening on Earth. Renaldo ‘Obie’ Benson, a member of the Motown vocal group the Four Tops, began writing What’s Going On (arranged here by Rollo Dilworth) in response to an incident of police brutality he witnessed in Berkeley, California. Marvin Gaye gave the piece its evocative title in response to the Watts riots in Los Angeles: ‘With the world exploding around me, how am I supposed to keep singing love songs?’ But Benson clarified, ‘I’m not protesting, I want to know what’s going on.’ The jazzy, soulful arrangement featured a fine solo from tenor Matt Pope, chromatic harmonies and a ravishing final chord.

Performing Meredith Monk’s Earth Seen From Above. Image © The AC Product

Meredith Monk’s Earth Seen From Above zooms out and looks at humanity from far above. Monk asked that the piece be sung without scores and specified specific physical gestures for the choir to perform. The choir repeated the syllables ‘Nn Doh’, as they surrounded us: Monk wrote, ‘The idea of the piece is to make the whole space reverberate.’ The choir achieved this perfectly as they moved amongst us. Sometimes they dropped their heads in time with the rhythm, as if in supplication or worship, or as if being controlled by an external puppet master. At other times, they stared blankly into space, or spun eerily round; what were their thoughts? Were they robots? However you interpreted their gestures, the effect was compelling and strangely moving.

From reflection, we passed to protest and peace, starting with an arrangement of Bob Dylan’s Blowin’ in the Wind, arranged by Liv Muir, their first arrangement for Kantos. This was a gentle and folky, sometimes reminiscent of John Rutter’s Christmas carols. There were lovely, lyrical tenor solos from Matt Pope and Will Anderson. Peace broke through in Arnold Schoenberg’s Friede auf Erden (Peace on Earth). This began with a hymn-like section with an atonal edge: Schoenberg was moving away from late Romanticism into a new atonal phase, with uneasy harmonies representing a yearning for peace, sometimes deliciously discordant. Make no mistake; this is difficult music for the singers – Schoenberg at one point created an orchestral accompaniment to help keep the singers in tune and in time. But singing a cappella, the choir’s intonation and ensemble on Saturday evening were very strong, even in the most chromatic sections and on the highest notes. The piece ended with the stunning affirmation, trumpets resounding with the words, ‘Friede, Friede, auf der Erde!’

The chromaticism at the start of Charlie Perry’s arrangement of Sam Cooke’s A Change is Gonna Come was very different from Schoenberg’s. This was hopeful and joyful, a gentle, lilting version, with an ardent solo from Will Anderson. This was good programming, too – Sam Cooke was inspired to write the song when he heard Dylan’s Blowin’ in the Wind. And the hopeful ending of Cooke’s song, with its repeated phrase ‘A change is gonna come’, cleverly morphed into Thomas Tallis’ late 16th-century 40-part motet Spem in Alium (I have never put my hope in anyone/Other than thee, God of Israel).

Kantos, RNCM and the University of Manchester Chamber Choirs, with conductor Ellie Slorach. Image © The AC Product

Tallis’ piece still sounds extraordinary, around 450 years after it was written. He was exploring surround sound centuries before Mahler’s use of offstage performers in works such as his Second Symphony, never mind the far more recent innovations of quadraphonic, 5.1 or Dolby Atmos. Slorach placed the 40 singers around the audience so that they were closer to us than to one another, which required great confidence from the individual singers. As in Meredith Monk’s piece, they rose to the challenge of performing at a distance from each other. Great waves of sound washed over us as themes passed from one section of the choir to another. The sudden chord change on the words ‘respice humilitatem nostram’ was astonishing, and there was a joyful echo at the end. The concert concluded with another expression of hope: Peter Hicks’ gorgeous arrangement of What A Wonderful World by Thiele & Weiss. The choir remained in their Spem in Alium positions around us, and we were wrapped in a blanket of joy and warmth. A well-deserved standing ovation soon broke out.

Slorach told us afterwards that she and Claire Shercliff’s aim with Kantos was always to bring ‘exceptional singing’ of a professional quality to the North of England. They have definitely achieved that. They bring a keen musical intelligence to their programming and a highly imaginative sense of theatre. Here’s to the next ten years!

Repertoire

Aaron Copland In the Beginning
Marvin Gaye arr. Rollo Dilworth What’s Going On
Meredith Monk Earth Seen From Above
Bob Dylan arr. Liv Muir Blowin’ in the Wind
Arnold Schoenberg Friede auf Erden
Sam Cooke arr. Charlie Perry A Change is Gonna Come
Thomas Tallis Spem in alium
Thiele & Weiss arr. Peter Hicks What A Wonderful World

Performers

Ellie Slorach Creative Director & Conductor
Kantos Chamber Choir
Royal Northern College of Music Chamber Choir
University of Manchester Chamber Choir

Now read on…

Kantos Chamber Choir: Kantos x helios x victoria baths – Live Review
Kantos Chamber Choir – The Witch Trials – Live Review
Kantos Chamber Choir – Behold the Sea – Live Review
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Off the Beaten Track #10: The Seafarer by Tim Benjamin

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Kraftwerk – the Multimedia Tour – Live Review

Friday 5 June 2026

The Royal Albert Hall, London

★★★★★

Kraftwerk’s music sounds as fresh and contemporary as ever

by guest reviewer Mike Holmes

Image © Mike Holmes

Between 1975 and June 2026, Kraftwerk have been infrequent visitors to London, with a total of 26 visits in 51 years (I am indebted to the meticulously curated website keepwerking.co.uk for its detailed and searchable database). Tickets for the three Royal Albert Hall gigs were in incredibly high demand, and I was happy to secure some after doing battle with the online ticketing portal (remember the good old days when paper tickets were sold in local record shops?!)

On the face of it, Kraftwerk should have disappeared from musical consciousness years ago. They were not prolific, having released eight studio albums between 1974 and 2003 (with a live album and a remix offering in 2005 and 2009 respectively). Of the four founding members, only Ralf Hütter remains active (impressively so, as he will soon be an octogenarian). Sadly, fellow founder Florian Schneider died in 2020. With no new music since 2003, it would be expected that this incarnation of the pioneers from Düsseldorf would be a sad karaoke pastiche of a once interesting and relevant band (we could all name pale imitation modern versions of ancient bands that are doomed to endless nostalgia tours. The really unlucky ones end up doing holiday camp weekenders).

© Mike Holmes
© Mike Holmes

So why are Kraftwerk different? Why were we all competing for tickets? I have been lucky enough to see them four previous times, and yet I was just as excited about this gig. So what is it about Kraftwerk? And even more importantly, did this latest visit to planet Earth by the Kraftwerk Spacelab live up to expectations?

To answer that question, let’s start with some history. Kraftwerk were founded in Düsseldorf in 1970. They were early adopters of the primitive synthesisers and drum machines that were being developed at the time. Although several early electronic music pioneers were experimenting around that time (the Doctor Who theme from 1963, written by Ron Gainer and brought to life by Delia Derbyshire at the BBC Radiophonic Workshop, comes to mind), Kraftwerk took the technology to a new level. They combined simple pure melodies with stripped-down bass lines and drum patterns. They also developed a fascinating image (the classic Kraftwerk look: short, slicked back hair, red shirts and identical black ties) at a time of maximum hippy bell-bottom flares and massive hair. The first four albums had a huge influence. The style has been described as ‘robot pop’, although there is far more to it than that.

© Mike Holmes

What is critical to their story is the massive influence they had on modern electronic music. Kraftwerk had a big impact on the Bellville Three, who invented Detroit techno. Afrika Bambaataa borrowed a drum rhythm from Numbers and a lead line from Trans-Europe Express as he kicked off the hip-hop revolution. Chris Lowe of Pet Shop Boys stated in 1990, ‘they started it all’ (BBC News Obituary for Florian Schneider). Many articles about the impact of Kraftwerk refer to the band as ‘the electronic Beatles’, which is entirely justified in my view. Even though the music is generated by a series of ones and zeros, there is something incredibly human, dare I say even beautiful, about this ‘robot rock’.

© Mike Holmes

So, the history is legendary, and the story has been told many times (certainly by me to any ‘willing’ listener!) The question is, how was this latest live incarnation of Kraftwerk? The short answer is, as powerful and compelling as ever. Hütter’s voice may be a little less strong these days (but still remarkable for 79), but the ability to mesmerise and captivate an audience is as strong as ever. The visuals were stunning, with an almost hallucinogenic quality. The screen was huge and intense. The sound was as pure and deep as is demanded by the Kraftwerk aesthetic.

The set list was as predicted (with one exception, see below), and yet the music sounded as fresh and contemporary as ever. It’s hard to pick out highlights from what is a near-perfect set list. Tour de France was as dynamic as ever. The Numbers/Computer World/Computer World 2 medley was a great way to engage the audience from the start. Hütter does not tend to talk to the audience except to say goodnight. He broke this rule when he announced an unexpected extra track. Kraftwerk were very close to composer/actor Ryuichi Sakamoto, who died aged 71 in 2023. Hütter explained that Sakamoto had translated the lyrics of Radioactivity into Japanese for them. There then followed a moving tribute in the form of a cover of the theme from Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence.

This was another incredible two hours of pure electronic music that combined a high-minded aesthetic with an ultimately human and uplifting experience. We all hope that Kraftwerk will land the Spacelab in London again very soon. ‘

A final thought: Kraftwerk do play a lot of the synth lines live, despite what some cynics have suggested. I know every note of every song, and I hear subtle differences every time I see them live: ‘By pressing down a special key, it plays a little melody.’

© Mike Holmes

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BEAT play the music of 1980s King Crimson – Live Review

Sunday 7 June 2026

University of Wolverhampton at the Halls, Wolverhampton

★★★★

BEAT brings King Crimson’s 1980’s legacy to joyful life

I knew I was in the right place. At a fast food joint before the gig, I saw a man sporting a King Crimson (KC) T-shirt and an extravagant beard. Inside, there were more KC T-shirts (the cover of 1974’s Red seemed to be the most popular). There were many others, including Nine Inch Nails, Bowie, Zappa, Black Flag, Neil Young, Bauhaus, Joy Division… and Sunday evening’s performers, BEAT.

BEAT doesn’t represent, in James Murphy’s cutting phrase, ‘borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered eighties’ (Losing My Edge by LCD Soundsystem, 2005). In fact, two of the band’s members played with KC in the 1980s – Adrian Belew (guitar and vocals) and Tony Levin (bass and Chapman Stick). The new members are: Steve Vai, replacing guitarist Robert Fripp (he endorses the band and was in the audience on Sunday) and Danny Carey from the American rock band Tool.

BEAT formed to play music from the run of KC albums Discipline (1981), Beat (1982) and Three of a Perfect Pair (1984) that would otherwise not be performed live. In that respect, they are similar to Nick Mason’s Saucerful of Secrets, who play the music of early Pink Floyd, and Voyage 35, who are due to tour the music of early Porcupine Tree later in the year with bass player Colin Edwin and the band’s touring guitarist John Wesley.

Discipline (1981)
Beat (1982)
Three of a Perfect Pair (1984)

This was the first night of BEAT’s 72-date tour. It began with Neurotica and Neal and Jack and Me, with incredibly complex guitar parts that interlocked like the tessellated designs of the Dutch graphic artist M. C. Escher, or his optical illusions in which staircases endlessly come back on themselves. Belew, who was a compelling stage presence throughout the show, quipped that he always likes to get the easy ones out of the way.  

The three guitarists wore the regulation sharp suits and jackets of eighties new wave artists, although they cast them off as they warmed up. Carey, on drums, wore shorts from the start; his drumming throughout was phenomenally virtuosic and energetic. Vai stood on a Persian rug, adopting a rock-star trope that goes back to the Grateful Dead, Greg Lake, Jimmy Page, and Eric Clapton. Vai’s pedal board was the size of a small village, and the range of sounds he got out of it included some that sounded like the guitar-synth so characteristic of this iteration of KC.

Belew said the first half would feature some deep cuts from the third album, Three of a Perfect Pair. The first of two highlights from that album was Dig Me, which featured dystopian, dive-bombing guitar, fiercely avant-garde percussion, Captain Beefheart-style vocalisations, and deliciously disturbing fragments of melody as the music reached in vain for resolution, then threatened to fall apart again, ending with the baleful words ‘bury me.’ Belew drolly said, ‘That was ambitious!’ Industry began with the atmosphere of a Bowie instrumental, an ominous three-note synth drone played by Levin, while Vai played spacey guitar-synth tones. Vai led us into a terrifying labyrinth, with thunderous drumming from Carey, whilst Belew provided alarming noises on his guitar. For a while, we were lost in a disorientating nightmare, before the malevolent bass synth returned to end the horror in a stunningly visceral performance.

Belew had promised some ‘better known music’ in the second half, which began with Carey playing solo roto-toms at the front of the stage, soon joined by Belew as they created mesmerising rhythms reminiscent of Steve Reich’s seminal Clapping Music, which uses the phasing technique he developed. (Belew first met Fripp at a concert of Reich’s Music for 18 Musicians in Greenwich Village). The other two band members came on, Carey ran to his drum kit, and they launched into a section of intellectual funk, which brought back memories of Talking Heads, with whom Belew worked in the late 1970s and early 1980s.

As this was the first date of the tour, there were, unsurprisingly, a few teething problems. Belew had problems with the sound cutting out from his guitar and amp, and later his whammy bar fell off (twice!) But the sound was excellent, and the level of musicianship was astounding. In The Sheltering Sky, Vai played a swooping, soaring guitar-synth solo, twisting his guitar in the air, quietly ecstatic. He followed up with blisteringly fast shredding and tapping. In Sleepless, Levin played bass with extended wooden fingers to create an impossibly funky, metallic sound. Carey’s drums were fiercely rhythmic, and the band began to take flight in a series of classic tracks…

The peerless Frame by Frame began with a stunning duet between Vai and Belew, creating intricate phasing patterns that would have made Steve Reich proud. Matte Kudasai was a gorgeous ballad, with Belew playing lovely bottleneck guitar. His voice was particularly good here, gently passionate on this love song, and Carey’s drumming was subtly jazzy. Levin attacked the Chapman Stick with dystopian vigour in Elephant Talk, and Belew’s slightly unhinged spoken-word vocals were deliciously histrionic. The final song in the second set was Indiscipline, which featured a superbly syncopated, extended opening from the rhythm section, and a mini-drum solo from Carey. Belew was clearly enjoying himself, embracing the theatricality of the spoken word vocals (‘I repeat myself when under stress/I repeat myself when under stress…’). At the end, he shouted, ‘I like it!’, to which an audience member voiced our agreement with a joyful, ‘Yes!’

The encore was the KC classic, the title track of the 1974 KC album Red, performed at a faster tempo than the original, with amazingly inventive drumming from Carey. Belew paid tribute to Fripp and Bill Bruford, and the gig ended with a lively, punky version of Thela Hun Ginjeet. Reader, I liked it!

(L to R) Steve Vai, Adrian Belew, Danny Carey, Tony Levin

The BEAT tour continues in Paris on 10 June, then tours across Europe – dates here

Now read on…

How I learned to listen to King Crimson
THRAK (1995) by King Crimson – Album Review
Red (1974) by King Crimson – Album Review

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The Bach Choir – Bach’s Mass in B Minor – Live Review

Tuesday 26 May 2026

The Royal Festival Hall, London

★★★★★

The Bach Choir’s moving and supremely human interpretation marks the 150th anniversary of their first performance of Bach’s masterpiece

The Bach Choir © Marc Gascoigne

Tuesday night’s concert marked another significant milestone in The Bach Choir’s 150th anniversary season, which opened late last year with a performance of Mahler’s Symphony No. 8 with The Philharmonia conducted by David Hill at St Paul’s Cathedral. The Choir first performed Bach’s Mass in B minor exactly 150 years and one month ago, on 26 April 1876. This was the first British performance of Bach’s masterpiece, and Tuesday night marked the choir’s 70th performance of the work.

Bach never heard the piece in full; remarkably, it took over a century after Bach’s death for his works to enter the English choral repertoire, with the first English performance of the St Matthew Passion in 1854 by William Sterndale Bennett. In autumn 1875, the German musician Otto Goldschmidt, who had married the Swedish operatic soprano Jenny Lind and settled in London with her, worked with the lawyer Arthur Coleridge to form a choir to perform the Mass in B Minor. The first concert, at St James’s Hall, set the standard for future performances, at least according to one critic, ‘Choral singing, such as we heard on the present occasion, is rarely met with in this or any other country.’

Conductor David Hill and members of Florilegium © Marc Gascoigne

The first time I heard David Hill conducting the B Minor Mass was two years ago in Manchester, with a much smaller choir: the student choir Yale Schola Cantorum and the student musicians of Juilliard415, so I was very much looking forward to hearing a much larger choir performing the work. In his programme note, conductor David Hill describes the piece as one of the finest works in the western musical canon,

‘A summation of Bach’s genius as a writer for voices and instruments with equal brilliance. There is joy, sadness, melancholy and, above all, inspired melodic material interweaving throughout the work. The Mass in B minor is a consecration of a whole life…’

In my review of Yale Schola Cantorum/Juilliard415, I wrote, ‘The most remarkable aspect of Sunday’s concert was how pure it felt, allowing direct access to the emotions and intellectual power of the music itself, to the mind and soul of Bach himself.’ Tuesday night’s concert felt very different, bringing out the work’s deep humanity rather than its intellectual and spiritual aspects. It’s a credit to Hill that he can create such superb performances from such different forces.

Under Hill’s subtle and undemonstrative direction, Florilegium played elegantly, with lovely poise and lilting rhythms, dancing joyfully, with natural trumpets adding bite to the sound. This was early music filtered through modern performance practice, but historically informed, bringing the best of both worlds. There were excellent instrumental solos from Ashley Solomon (flute and director of Florilegium), Huw Daniel (violin and leader), Gail Hennessy and Andrés Villalobos (oboe) and Anneke Scott (horn), each player standing for their solo as a jazz musician would in a big band. Philip Scriven was a tireless continuo player on chamber organ.

Nardus Williams (Soprano) and Helen Charlston (Mezzo Soprano) © Marc Gascoigne

The vocal soloists were: Nardus Williams (Soprano), who sang Laudamus Te with a rich and florid voice and superb legato in a duet with the solo violin; Sam Furness (Tenor), who sang the Benedictus with a gently ardent, plaintive tone in duet with solo flute; and Neal Davies (Bass-baritone), who played Jesus in the choir’s St Matthew Passion. On Tuesday night, he again proved himself to be an excellent communicator, with excellent diction, superb word-painting, and lovely phrasing. But the highlight of the vocal solo performances was Helen Charlston (Mezzo soprano) singing Agnus Dei from the heart with a commanding stage presence, a velvet-hued tone, and at one point a gorgeous sotto voce on the words ‘Agnus Dei.’

The Bach Choir, conductor David Hill, Florilegium and soloists.© Marc Gascoigne

But the evening belonged to the choir in their anniversary year. The piece opened with Bach’s magnificent Kyrie, sung initially without scores. The pace was fairly slow and majestic, Hill bringing out fabulous detail from the massed forces, and accentuating the pointed rhythms in both choir and orchestra. There were some lovely, deep bass voices, and lyrical tenors, and the women sang with lovely legato. In the fast running passages of the Gloria, the singing was spritely and virtuosic, incredibly controlled for such large forces; it was easy to forget that this is an amateur choir. The choir’s word-painting was excellent throughout. For instance, in Et Terra Pax, the choir reached longingly for peace as a remarkable orchestral passage rose in search of the light. In Gratias agimus tibi, the choir sang with gratitude and great humanity. Qui tollis peccata mundi was spellbinding; the choir singing was warm yet melancholy, bringing out Bach’s superb harmonies in supplication, as they prayed for mercy. The first half ended with the Cum Sancto Spiritu, featuring an exuberant entry from the choir and very fast singing, beautifully controlled by Hill. To be clear: this music is difficult to sing, but with the choir and Hill, we were always in safe hands.

The Credo sets the words of the Nicene Creed, the central affirmation of Christian belief, written over 1,700 years ago. Again, the choir’s word-painting was superb, starting with a robust statement of faith from the tenors in the word ‘Credo’. The sequence describing Christ’s birth, crucifixion, and resurrection was stunning. Et Incarnatus Est was thoughtful and reverential. It was as if the world had stopped turning; the words of the carol came to mind, ‘The world in solemn stillness lay.’ The Crucifixus was heart-rending. After a short gap, Et resurrexit was joyful, exciting, and visceral. Some of the men sang the very difficult passage ‘et iterum venturus est’ without scores, carrying it off with aplomb. Et exspecto resurrectionem mortuorum was quietly hymn-like, moving from humble, contemplative hope to certainty, with a magnificent ‘Amen’.

The Sanctus was stately but superbly rhythmic, a supreme statement of faith. The overlapping voices in ‘pleni sunt coeli’ reminded me of the same words used in Britten’s War Requiem performed by the choir a couple of years ago. After a joyful Osanna in Excelsis, the humanity and humility of the choir’s interpretation were again highlighted with a prayer for peace, calm and deeply moving, gradually building to a passionate plea. At the end of the concert, conductor David Hill and the four soloists were given flowers. In a lovely gesture, Hill waved his flowers at the choir, acknowledging their remarkable contribution. There was a huge, and well-deserved cheer for the choir: here’s to the next 150 years!

Conductor David Hill (centre) with soloists (L to R) Sam Furness, Nardus Williams, Helen Charlston and Neal Davies, The Bach Choir and Florilegium © Marc Gascoigne

David Hill dedicated the concert to the choir’s Vice President, Dame Felicity Lott, who died on 15 May, ‘a kind and generous, humorous, very humble and self-effacing artist.’

Performers

David Hill Conductor
Nardus Williams Soprano
Helen Charlston Mezzo soprano
Sam Furness Tenor
Neal Davies Bass-baritone
The Bach Choir
Florilegium: Ashley Solomon Director, Huw Daniel Leader

Repertoire

JS Bach Mass in B minor BWV 232

Now read on…

The Bach Choir, David Hill and Florilegium – St Matthew Passion

The Bach Choir – Bach’s St Matthew Passion – Live Review

Bach in Leipzig

A Visit to Thomas Kirche (St Thomas’s Church) in Leipzig, Home of the Music of JS Bach – Music Across the Generations and Across the Centuries

David Hill, Yale Schola Cantorum and Juilliard415 – the B Minor Mass in Manchester

Yale Schola Cantorum and Juilliard415 – Live Review

The Bach Choir, David Hill and the Philharmonia – opening concert of the Choir’s 150th anniversary season

The Bach Choir and the Philharmonia Orchestra – Mahler Symphony No. 8 – Live Review
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A Tour of Europe’s Finest Concert Halls – Part IV: The Elbphilharmonie in Hamburg

23 May 2026

Exterior of the Elbphilharmonie, Hamburg

Welcome to the fourth in our series on a tour around some of Europe’s greatest concert venues. This post contains more images than usual, as a major part of a visit to the Elbphilharmonie in Hamburg is the hall’s architecture and design. The building sits on top of an old brick warehouse in the port of Hamburg.

sailboats on alster river in hamburg
Photo by Frank Rietsch on Pexels.com

The view of the building from outside is spectacular, but seeing it at a distance from the larger of Hamburg’s inner-city lakes, the Außenalster (the Outer Alster), takes your breath away. The building is so high that its sweeping roof can be seen next to two of the most historic buildings in the city,  Hamburg Town Hall and St. Nicholas Memorial. The roofline has been variously described as a hoisted sail, a wave of water, an iceberg, or a quartz crystal. The first two descriptions seem more apt, bearing in mind the Port of Hamburg’s maritime history, although ice floes on the river Elbe have been known to create mini-icebergs in extremely cold weather.

The escalator to the Elbphilharmonie. Source: Wikimedia Commons

The ice theme continued as we entered the hall, even though it was a warm evening. A journey into the hall feels like taking an escalator up the inside of a glacier, with white walls and a ceiling carved as if from ice. Apparently, it’s Europe’s longest curved escalator, and it takes two and a half minutes to get to the top.

Views from the Plaza. Copyright Gill Holmes

We arrived at the Plaza, from which the lower parts of the Grosser Saal (the main hall) and the Kleiner Saal (the recital room for chamber concerts and jazz) can be reached. From the Plaza, there are spectacular 360-degree views of the city and the harbour.

Interior of the Elbphilharmonie © Herzog & de Meuron architects, Switzerland.

The interior of the hall is designed on the ‘vineyard’ principle, the same acoustic design used in the DR Konserthuset, the subject of our last post. The Swiss architectural practice Herzog & de Meuron, based in Basel, Switzerland, wrote,

The client specifies that the main auditorium should provide an alternative to the conventional shoe-box concert hall, which Hamburg already has in the Laeiszhalle

This sets the hall apart from the shoe-box design used in the Concertgebouw in Amsterdam, the first stop on our tour. The Elbphilharmonie breaks up the auditorium into several small ‘vineyards’, so that each part of the audience feels small and intimate, even though the hall holds over 2,000 people. Intriguingly, the smaller recital hall uses the shoe-box shape, so it could be argued that the Elbphilharmonie provides the best of both acoustic worlds, although we didn’t get a chance to visit the Kleiner Saal. Both halls are set apart from the noise of the outside world,

The Elbphilharmonie’s architecture cleverly tricks the surrounding noise of ships’ propellers, sirens and all kinds of other dockland sounds.

The outer wall of the concert hall is attached to the rest of the building, but the inner structure is acoustically isolated from the outer walls and supported on 362 springs. The same design is used at Manchester’s Bridgewater Hall, which uses 260 springs to isolate it from traffic and the Metrolink tram outside.

Elbphilharmonie interior, seen from the front of the stalls

So what does the Great Hall in the Elbphilharmonie sound like? Our seats were in the very front row of the Stalls, on the far right, so we were very close to the stage but off to one side. As the hall’s own website says (in relation to the seats that are behind the stage),

Depending on which section of the orchestra you are sitting closest to, the horns or double basses, the brass or the percussion come out more strongly than in the seats in front of the stage. Higher up in the hall, the sound produces a more balanced overall impression.

So, from our seats, the lower brass instruments were more prominent than the rest of the massive orchestra during the final piece, Hans Werner Henze’s Symphony Number Seven. But in the opening piece, Wagner’s Siegfried Idyll, with a smaller orchestra, the violins had a lovely bloom, and the woodwind sailed above them, creating an ideal sound. The playing of the Elbphilharmonie orchestra under the German conductor Matthias Pintscher was sublime. In the second piece, Szymanowski’s Second Violin Concerto, the Greek soloist Leonidas Kavakos’ sound was warm and passionate, ideally balanced with the orchestra. His playing in the cadenza, with its earthy, folky feel, was astonishing.

Henze’s Seventh Symphony is a challenge for both audience and orchestra. The composer states somewhat cryptically in his notes that it’s ‘a German symphony, and it deals with matters German.’ It’s partly inspired by the poems of Friedrich Hölderlin, whose work and time spent in an asylum lie behind the finale and the scherzo. But as the Gramophone critic wrote, ‘what lies behind the intense and complex threnody of the towering second – and longest – movement is not divulged.’

The symphony felt immensely complex, dense, and virtuosic; both players and the conductor had to work very hard. From our seats, we could see a young percussionist counting furiously to himself and a pianist and a celesta player playing intensely and with great rhythmic precision. We were very close to a young tuba player, who inserted a huge wooden mute, played three notes, and set the mute down on the stage next to him. It was fascinating to have such an intimate view of orchestral players who are usually a long way from us.

Violinist Leonidas Kavakos and conductor Matthias Pintscher (far left) with the NDR Elbphilharmonie Orchestra

So far on our tour, we have visited two vineyards and one shoebox. So, which type of concert hall offers better acoustics? As the Elbphilharmonie website says,

‘There is not a conclusive answer to this question.’

Exterior of the Elbphilharmonie at night. Copyright Gill Holmes

Sources:

https://www.herzogdemeuron.com

https://www.elbphilharmonie.de/en

http://gramophone.co.uk/

Now read on…

A Tour of Europe’s Finest Concert Halls – Part I: The Concertgebouw, Amsterdam
A Tour of Europe’s Finest Concert Halls – Part II : A Diversion to Christiania Jazz Club, Copenhagen
A Tour of Europe’s Finest Concert Halls – Part III: DR Koncerthuset in Copenhagen
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A Tour of Europe’s Finest Concert Halls – Part III: DR Koncerthuset in Copenhagen

14 May 2026

The exterior of DR Koncerthuset, Copenhagen

We approached the DR Koncerthuset in Copenhagen on foot from the centre of the city, walking past the university towards a campus that houses DR (Danmarks Radio), which, like the BBC, is just over 100 years old. Like the BBC’s northern base at Media City UK, the campus can be reached by tram and features water as part of its architecture.

The DR radio campus

The French composer Olivier Messiaen famously had synaesthesia, which meant that he saw certain harmonies as specific colours. So the hall could have reminded him of some of the harmonies from his epic work that we heard in Thursday evening, Turangalîla-symphonie, which he saw as blue-orange; the outside of the building glows blue at night, and the auditorium is a vivid orange.

The interior of DR Koncerthuset, Copenhagen

The hall’s acoustics are designed on the ‘vineyard’ principle, with the stage in the middle and several small terraces at different levels surrounding the stage. The earliest example of this style is the Berliner Philharmonie, opened in 1963. Other European examples include the Gewandhaus in Leipzig, the Philharmonie in Paris, and the Elbphilharmonie in Hamburg (next stop on our tour). The most striking aspect of the auditorium at the DR Koncerthuset is that there are virtually no horizontal or vertical surfaces; everything leans one way or another. The aim is to create early reflections of the sound, making it intimate and detailed at every seat.

The interior of DR Koncerthuset, Copenhagen

From our seats on the second balcony near the back of the hall, the sound was stunning. Messiaen’s Turangalîla calls for a huge orchestra, in this case the Danish National Symphony Orchestra, with no fewer than ten percussionists, solo piano and that wonderfully strange electronic instrument, the Ondes Martenot. The balance between the instruments was perfect, beautifully shaped by the Finnish conductor Esa-Pekka Salonen, who says that the symphony is one of his favourite pieces. Bertrand Chamayou was a virtuosic pianist, playing Messiaen’s piano parts with a robust touch. Cécile Lartigau played the Ondes Martenot with elegance and subtlety, her bright orange jacket matching the hall’s décor.

“The music consists of otherworldly orchestral sounds in cascades of psychedelic colours. With that imaginary world, you might think that Olivier Messiaen lived on hallucinatory mushrooms and was completely ungrounded. That was not the case… The intoxicant that gave wings to his imagination was love and the Catholic faith.”

Programme notes from the Danish National Symphony Orchestra

When Turangalîla was premiered in New York in 1949, the critical response was generally negative. It was described as ‘futile’, ‘empty’, ‘tawdry’. However, one critic did describe it as ‘one of the most radical extensions of orchestral range, color and expressivity contrived by any modern composer.’ After the French premiere in 1950, the composer Francis Poulenc described it as ‘atrocious’ and criticised its dishonesty, ‘written to please both the crowd and the élite, the bidet and the baptismal font.’  Pierre Boulez, Messiaen’s pupil and a famous provocateur (he once told me that to move on musically, he had metaphorically to ‘kill’ his father-figure Messiaen), said it made him want to ‘vomit.’

The only way to enjoy the symphony fully is to accept it entirely on Messiaen’s terms; despite what Poulenc said about it, the work is completely honest and sincere. He wrote that its ultimate subject is ‘The fateful, irresistible, transcendent and all-encompassing love.’  The performance on Thursday was astonishing. What Salonen brought out superbly, assisted by the hall’s excellent acoustics, was the strange paradox of this work. It’s both incredibly simple, based on only four repetitive themes, and immensely complex in its rhythmic patterns and orchestral textures. At the centre of its ten movements are two extraordinary movements: the fifth, ‘Joie du Sang des étoiles (Joy of the blood of the stars), which the composer described as ‘a long and frenzied dance of joy’, and the sixth, ‘Jardin du Sommeil d’amour’ (Garden of love’s sleep), in which, ‘time flows on, forgotten. The lovers are outside of time.’ But on Thursday evening, the Finale was the highlight, the audience rising to its feet in an ecstatic standing ovation.

As the Danish say, ‘næste stop, Hamburg’ (next stop, Hamburg)!

Thursday’s concert was broadcast live on P2 Koncerten. It will be rebroadcast on Sunday at 12:15. The concert was recorded for later television broadcast on DR2/DRTV and will also be available in cinemas nationwide in Denmark this autumn.

Now read on…

A Tour of Europe’s Finest Concert Halls – Part I: The Concertgebouw, Amsterdam
A Tour of Europe’s Finest Concert Halls – Part II : A Diversion to Christiania Jazz Club, Copenhagen
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A Tour of Europe’s Finest Concert Halls – Part I: The Concertgebouw, Amsterdam

Thursday 7 May 2026

The Concertgebouw at night

It’s said that in London, you are never more than six feet away from a rat. In Amsterdam, you are never more than six feet away from a bicycle.  On Thursday evening, a smartly dressed woman, in full dress suit and colourful shawl, carefully parked her bicycle and crossed the road to enter the Concertgebouw in Amsterdam. This would be an unusual sight in other European cities, but in Amsterdam, nobody appeared to notice.

I have always wanted to go to the Concertgebouw, ever since, as a young teenager, I heard Paul McCartney singing,

If there’s a rock show at the  Concertgebouw
You’ve got long hair at the Madison Square
You’ve got rock’n’roll at the Hollywood Bowl…

‘Rock Show’ from Venus and Mars (1975) by Paul McCartney and Wings

On Thursday, rather than a rock show, we went to see more traditional orchestral fare: the Concertgebouw Orchestra, conducted by Nathalie Stutzmann, performing music by Brahms and Tchaikovsky, whose names are written on the walls and balconies of the hall. The name Wagenaar was also there. I assumed this was a Dutch spelling of Wagner, but it turns out this was the Dutch composer Johannes Wagenaar (1862-1941). In January 1917, the composer conducted the orchestra in a concert of his own works and Berlioz’s  Symphonie Fantastique, performed recently in Manchester by the BBC Philharmonic.The critic Matthijs Vermeulen, in a damning review, despite acknowledging that the composer was an ‘extraordinarily gifted man wrote

‘Wagenaar made the mistake of most ordinary conductors: he indicates too much. With a virtuoso ensemble like the Concertgebouw Orchestra, one may imagine that it knows most of the entrances of a frequently performed symphony, such as the Fantastique, by heart, or that they can at least be sufficiently imprinted on memory through a rehearsal.’

On Thursday, the lady didn’t protest too much: Stutzmann conducted with great precision and restrained gestures, bringing out the best in this world-class orchestra. She did, however, make a grand entrance. The conductor and any soloists have to enter down a long staircase, rather than from the side of the stage which is more common.

Concertgebouw interior with staircase

We began with a short amuse-bouche, Glinka’s ‘Overture’  to his opera Ruslan and Lyudmila (1837 – 1842). But the main event in the first half of the concert was Tchaikovsky’s Violin Concerto, with the soloist Augustin Hadelich, who we heard in Manchester playing Prokofiev’s Second Violin Concerto. It was fascinating to compare his performance with that of the South Korean violinist Bomsori, who played the concerto in Manchester a week ago. Both violinists were superb: Bomsori’s violin sounded like a lyric soprano, whereas Hadelich’s was more like a warm, robust mezzo, with a legato of which any opera singer would have been proud. He deservedly drew rapturous applause and a standing ovation from the capacity audience. His encore was a cheeky bluegrass number from his American Bluegrass album, which provoked indulgent smiles from the audience and some members of the orchestra.

The Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam, seen from the Concertgebouw

Time for the interval, and a free drink, also a chance to gaze across a huge expanse of grass from the hall’s windows to the Rijksmuseum. These two monuments to civic pride were opened within three years of each other in the late 19th century. The Concertgebouw is known for its remarkable acoustics – along with the Musikverein in Vienna, it is considered one of the best in the world, simply by virtue of its shoebox shape. This was probably more by accident than design – the science of acoustics began in the 20th century with experts like the American Leo Beranek, who wrote one of the standard textbooks on concert hall acoustics,  Music, Acoustics and Architecture, in 1962. Dr. Peter D’Antonio of RPG Diffusor Systems, Inc and Prof Trevor Cox of the University of Salford said in a paper delivered to the 156th Meeting of the Acoustical Society of America in 2008 that another accident of design in older concert halls is that they have good sound diffusion compared to many modern halls,  

An enduring characteristic of classic architecture is the beautiful statuary, relief ornamentation, columns and coffered ceilings. These beautiful features, coincidentally also provided useful sound scattering and excellent acoustics

The second half was an opportunity to hear the orchestra in the hall’s magnificent acoustics. I have spent many happy hours since my teenage years when I first subscribed to HiFi Answers, reading about Hi-Fi equipment, going to shows to listen to Hi-Fi equipment, and most importantly, listening to Hi-Fi equipment. Most recently, I treated myself to a pair of Sennheiser HD800S Open-back headphones and an Astell&Kern SR35 portable HD music player. I bought this system because it sounded musical, warm, detailed and spacious. The hall sounded exactly like this. In the Brahms symphony, I heard details I have never heard before, even in the finest recordings. Each instrument was surrounded by a lovely bloom, but there was great clarity as well. Plucked instruments were perfectly defined, and the double basses, physically towering above the cellos on the steps above, could be heard clearly rather than getting lost as they often are in other, lesser halls. Orchestral soloists all stood out; with lesser orchestras, this could have been a problem, but with an orchestra of this quality, the concert was an absolute joy.

Balcony at the Concertgebouw

Next stop, DR Koncerthuset in Copenhagen!

Sources:

Dr. Peter D’Antonio and Prof Trevor Cox Acoustical Optimization of Modern Architectural Spaces (156th Meeting of the Acoustical Society of America, 2008)

Now read on, for a jazz diversion in Freetown Christiania, Copenhagen…

A Tour of Europe’s Finest Concert Halls Part II : A Diversion to Christiania Jazz Club, Copenhagen
A Tour of Europe’s Finest Concert Halls – Part III: DR Koncerthuset in Copenhagen
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BBC Philharmonic Orchestra – Tchaikovsky’s Violin Concerto

Saturday 25 April 2026

The Bridgewater Hall, Manchester

★★★★★

The orchestra continues its superb run of form with Julia Wolfe’s vision of the aftermath of 9/11, Bomsori’s virtuosic violin-playing in Tchaikovsky, and Berlioz’s opium-induced visions

Violinist Bomsori with members of the BBC Philharmonic Orchestra © Chris Payne

Like Manchester’s two Premier League football teams, its two symphony orchestras, the Hallé and the BBC Philharmonic Orchestra, are reaching their peak towards the end of the season. Recently, the Hallé Orchestra and Choirs gave a superb performance of Vaughan Williams’ Sea Symphony. On Saturday evening, it was the turn of the BBC Philharmonic.

The concert began with Big Beautiful Dark and Scary by the orchestra’s Composer in Residence, Julia Wolfe. Nearly 25 years ago, on September 11 2001, she was two blocks away from the Twin Towers when the two planes hit them. She wrote the piece in response to the attack.

‘The piece captures the feverish post-apocalyptic feeling of living in the aftermath of 9/11 with an ominous, full-throttle wall of sound.’

From CD sleeve notes, Cantaloupe Records

Bang on a Can All-Stars premiered the chamber version of the work in April 2022. Wolfe wrote, ‘This is how life feels right now.’ On Saturday, the Philharmonic played the orchestral version, which premiered in May 2013. The piece began with shivering strings, surrounded by swirling woodwinds, playing a rising, ominous chromatic scale that felt like the Shepard tone used by Hans Zimmer in his score to Dunkirk (2017). A huge bass drum rumble and a disturbing syncopated piano added to the terror. A brief hiatus led to a contemplative section, still fizzing with fear and gently frenzied. A single repeated brass note was suspended above a dark bass melody that sank into the depths. There was a short release as a new woodwind melody challenged the chromatic melody. Clarinets and brass joined the battle against the main melody. The battle continued until the end of the piece, creating a spellbinding cacophony superbly crafted by the orchestra. Brass and violins reached a final truce, and this remarkably visceral piece ended with a gong that faded into nothingness.

MUSIC AND 9/11
Various composers responded to the 9/11 attacks. The German composer Karlheinz Stockhausen described 9/11 as ‘the greatest work of art imaginable’, which caused immediate condemnation and disgust around the world, although he later claimed he had been misunderstood: ‘I am as dismayed as everyone else about the attacks in America.’
More respectful responses came from John Adams, who wrote On the Transmigration of Souls (2002) with pre-recorded voices listing the names of some of the victims, and Steve Reich, who wrote WTC 9/11 (2009-10), which included recordings of air traffic controllers. The latter piece wasn’t without controversy; the original cover of the first recording featured an image of a plane flying towards one of the Twin Towers, which drew a lot of criticism before the album was released. Reich asked his record label, Nonesuch, to withdraw the image: ‘I want people to listen to my music without something distracting them.’

Steven Wilson – Collapse The Light Into Earth (The Future Bites Sessions) 6 November 2020

Other artists repurposed their work in response to the attacks. The American avant-garde composer William Basinski completed his ambient work The Disintegration Loops on the morning of the attacks and dedicated it to the victims: ‘When I woke up in the morning, the towers had been struck, and the whole world changed.’ Steven Wilson was working on a song in his studio when he heard about the attacks. He immediately abandoned that song and instead wrote ‘Collapse the Light Into Earth’ (from In Absentia, 2002): ‘It’s like William Basinski’s Disintegration Loops. It’s got nothing to do with 9/11, but there’s a quality in that music which somehow connects with that time and that event.’

The first half ended with Tchaikovsky’s Violin Concerto featuring the South Korean violinist Bomsori. Her debut with the BBC Philharmonic was at the Proms three years ago, playing Bruch’s Violin Concerto No. 1 under the baton of Saturday’s conductor, Anja Bihlmaier. She played with a lovely, bright, youthful tone, with less vibrato than some, creating a purity of tone. Throughout, she played this virtuosic piece with great ease and facility. The cadenza was stunning, with double-stopping, plucking and glissandi, all beautifully shaped. The intonation on her high notes was perfect. The audience sat quietly in rapt admiration of her astonishing virtuosity. Bihlmaier smiled as the orchestra rejoined, and after her pyrotechnics played a serene melody. Bomsori moved expressively as she played a spectacular duet with the orchestra.

The second movement began with a thoughtful chorale by the woodwinds and horns. Bomsori played a lyrical, delicately sorrowful melody with great emotion. The orchestra guided her gently into a new world with a livelier tune. There was a sense of Russian melancholy in her gentle dance with woodwind soloists, with gorgeously quiet playing. The opening chorale returned. Without a break, the orchestra roused itself into the final movement. Another mini-cadenza, a passionate Russian dance with mud on its boots, led to an incredibly fast dance. Stephen Johnson, in his programme note, described the Finale in these evocative phrases,

‘full of the flavour of Russian folk-dance music – a heady aromatic cocktail of vodka fumes, fried onions and creaking, high-kicking leather boots.‘

The orchestra and violin rose to the challenge of creating these flavours, before a melancholy passage brought a moment of contemplation. Bomsori challenged the orchestra to match her virtuosity, which they did. Another heavy peasant dance led to a thoughtful section for violin and chamber ensemble. Violin and orchestra dashed to an exuberant end, drawing huge and well-deserved cheers and applause.

Violinist Bomsori with conductor Anja Bihlmaier and the BBC Philharmonic Orchestra © Chris Payne

Bomsori’s encore was Schön Rosmarin (Lovely Rosemary) from Alt-Wiener Tanzweisen (Old Viennese Dances) by Fritz Kreisler, arranged by the Italian violinist Gabriele Campagna, a playful and virtuosic showpiece, delivered with great panache, and warmly received by the audience.

Conductor Anja Bihlmaier and the BBC Philharmonic Orchestra © Chris Payne

The second half was devoted to Berlioz’s Symphonie fantastique. He wrote the piece when he was 27, completely infatuated with the Irish actress Harriet Smithson, who he saw performing in Shakespeare’s Hamlet in Paris,

‘The supreme drama of my life … In the role of Ophelia, I saw Harriet Smithson, who five years later became my wife. The impression made on my heart and mind by her extraordinary talent, nay her dramatic genius, was equalled only by the havoc wrought in me by the poet she so nobly interpreted.’

The symphony, titled ‘Episode in the Life of an Artist: Fantastic Symphony in Five Parts’, describes the young ardent lover. Berlioz wrote a very detailed programme note, beginning with his dreams of his beloved seen from afar, then a countryside interlude when he begins to doubt her, followed by an opium-induced nightmare where he dreams that he has killed her, is led to the scaffold where he is executed, and a ‘ghastly crowd of ghosts, sorcerers, monsters of every kind’ gather for his funeral. The French composer Saint-Saëns later wrote that the programme for the work had gone out of fashion, but ‘the musical work is still as youthful and astounding as on its first day.’ Berlioz revised the programme note, describing the entire work as being opium-induced.

The composer’s youthful passion for his beloved is depicted in the ‘idée fixe‘, a rising ardent motif, reminiscent of the youthful puppy Idéfix (gloriously translated as Dogmatix) in the Asterix comics. The motif unifies the symphony, but becomes increasingly hidden and fragmented as the protagonist becomes more anguished.

Idéfix the Dog from the Asterix comic book series (René Goscinny and Albert Uderzo/Hachette Livre) vs Berlioz’s idée fixe motif

Although Berlioz distanced himself from his earlier programme note, he kept the titles to each movement, and they still provide a useful guide.

On Saturday, the opening movement, ‘Rêveries – Passions’ (Dreams – Passions), began with morose violins playing in perfect ensemble before a magical, anguished climax, describing the ‘Rêveries’ of the title. Lush strings and brass played joyfully, before falling back again. A dancing theme expressed supreme joy. The idée fixe motif appeared as a huge Romantic melody above marching lower strings. An ambiguous passage suggested the protagonist had lost hope; the music struggled, like trying to climb a mountain and sliding back again. Eventually, there was a glittering statement of the idée fixe, before a stunning climax which turned out to be a false ending, before sorrowful horns settled into a peaceful ending. Whatever your view is about the programmatic nature of the score, the orchestra superbly illustrated a series of restless moods, like those of a young lover.

The second movement, ‘Un bal’ (A ball), began with shimmering strings and lovely flourishes from the two harps, introducing an elegant waltz, joyfully played with the sense of inevitability that characterises many great performances. The waltz continued with an excitable section as the dancers swirled elegantly in a frenzy of joy, as a solo clarinet provided a fragmented statement of the idée fixe.

The ‘Scène aux champs’ (Scene in the fields) was an interlude in the countryside, opening with a cor anglais solo answered by an offstage oboe, representing two hunting horns conversing across a valley. There were strong echoes of Beethoven’s Symphony No. 6 ‘Pastoral‘, as the orchestra played with formidable precision, describing the lover’s loneliness. The idée fixe appeared briefly in a passage for flute and oboe, before the cor anglais reappeared. This time, there was no reassuring answer from the oboe; no fewer than four timps represented an oncoming storm, like the storm in Beethoven’s symphony, but also reflecting the protagonist’s emotional state.

By the fourth movement, ‘Marche au supplice’ (March to the scaffold) – if not sooner – the opium had kicked in. Sinister horns and ominous timps introduced a march on lower strings, with brutally sarcastic bassoons, creating a terrifying sound, elegantly conducted by Bihlmaier. This movement was a supreme example of an orchestra at the top of its game, all working incredibly hard, as the conductor danced on her podium. A brief snatch of the idée fixe on clarinet led to a coup de théâtre when two drummers marched solemnly down the steps of the choir seats, playing military drums, introducing the final movement, ‘Songe d’une nuit du sabbat’ (Dream of a night of the sabbath). The idée fixe was now transformed into a terrifying jig, the combined demonical forces dancing in the face of death. Funeral bells sounded offstage, introducing the horrifying Dies Irae funeral theme, played so memorably in the opening scene of Stanley Kubrick’s 1980 psychological horror film The Shining. A deeply sarcastic mini-fugue led to a spooky, ghostly passage, then the diabolical dance combined with the Dies Irae to bring this tremendous performance to an end.

Conductor Anja Bihlmaier and the BBC Philharmonic Orchestra © Chris Payne

Repertoire

Julia Wolfe Big Beautiful Dark and Scary
Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky Violin Concerto
Fritz Kreisler Schön Rosmarin (encore)
Hector Berlioz Symphonie fantastique

Performers

BBC Philharmonic Orchestra
Anja Bihlmaier conductor
Bomsori Kim violin

Sources

Bang on a Can All‑Stars: Big Beautiful Dark and Scary (Cantaloupe Music)
Terry Castle, Stockhausen, Karlheinz (New York Magazine 27 August 2011)
Steve Reich, Steve Reich Comments on the “WTC 9/11” Album Cover (Nonesuch Records Journal, 11 August 2011)
John Doran Time Becomes A Loop: William Basinski Interviewed (The Quietus 15 November 2012)
Nick Holmes, Porcupine Tree on track (SonicBond 2021, revised and expanded 2025)

The concert was recorded for broadcast on Radio 3 in Concert on Tuesday 5 May at 7.30 pm. It will be available for 30 days after broadcast via BBC Sounds

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