Monday 6 April 2009

After Amsterdam, Kari the complete clarinettist and a few thoughts on next season

I've just got back from a short break in Amsterdam with my wife, Deb. The timing was less a matter of wanting to see the city in the early spring and more a case of which week could I practically take off during the busiest part of the season whilst using up my remaining holiday entitlement before the end of the financial year.

However, we couldn't have timed it much better. Most days had clear skies bathing Amsterdam in the kind of radiant light you only get at this time of year. It was our first visit to the city and it won't be our last. What a change not to be deafened by traffic. And to be looking out for the hazard posed by bikes, rather than cars. Having said that, the bikes can be pretty scary - they seem to come at you from all directions and with barely a whisper of warning. It's also a sobering thought that many of them rely on back pedalling rather than brakes to stop!

Amsterdam is well-known, of course, for being one of the great cultural destinations in Europe. The Rijksmuseum, Van Goch Museum and the Stedelijk form a kind of golden triangle in the heart of the city but it's almost reassuring to discover that Amsterdam suffers from the same kinds of planning problems and project overruns that we tend to hear about in relation to cultural builds in this country. The consequence of these as far as Amsterdam goes is that the Stedelijk extension, which should have been completed by the end of 2008, is still not finished and has overrun to such an extent that the temporary exhibition space that had been allocated to the greatest works in the collection - in the city's old central post office - has now also been demolished (as we discovered when we spent an hour forlornly looking round the harbour area). The Rijksmuseum is still only partly open, too, which means that Amsterdam is running on only 2 cylinders, galleries-speaking, at the moment.

However, there's always the music to enjoy, and we certainly did that. The Netherlands Opera company is a key player in the city - its heavy-hitting Shostakovich's Lady MacBeth of Mtsensk got huge acclaim in 2006 - and we were lucky enough to be able to get a couple of the few remaining tickets for the Sunday matinee of Mozart's Cosi fan Tutte. I've always had a a soft spot for this decidedly un-PC comic opera from when I got the chance to be in a Glyndebourne production when I was a twelve-year old (my secondary school was just two miles away from the opera house and often provided the children for various crowd scenes and so on). Netherlands Opera's take on it was very different, though. Mozart's Naples became a sixties beach resort complete with weed-smoking busker providing the continuo on his mandolin. There were countless imaginative touches,the gangly Guglielmo's Elvis-like attempts at seduction a particular treat in an irreverent and racy production. A couple of people walked out when Ferrando's conquering of the hitherto steadfast Fiordiligi got a bit full on for their taste, but at the end it got a huge ovation with everyone on their feet.

This got me thinking. Several times in the last couple of season's we've had some breathtakingly good performances - Mark Elder's Elgar No.2, the BBC Phil's Mahler 6 for example - and a few brave souls have risen to their feet to show their appreciation. And I watch and wonder if we'll reach a tipping point and everyone else will get to their feet. But it never happens. Is it British reserve or am I overestimating the effect of these performances. I'd be interested to know your thoughts on this.

One performance that I've just seen undoubtedly earned a standing ovation. it didn't get one, though there were plenty of cheers. I'm talking about Finnish clarinettist, Kari Kriikku, performing 'Missa' by compatriot, Jukka Tiensuu, with the BBC Symphony Orchestra, at the Barbican in London. It's an odd kind of hybrid - a clarinet concerto based on the order of the Mass, and one which contains five moments where the soloist improvises the cadenzas. Like the acclaimed, award-winning Clarinet Concerto by Tiensuu's fellow Finn, Magnus Lindberg, Tiensuu's piece has immediate appeal and could, I'm sure, be enjoyed by even those audience members normally sceptical of contemporary music. Part of this is down to the soloist, Kari Kriiku. Just make a mental note of that name - Kari Kriiku - because he is a quite extraordinary performer. He doesn't just play the notes (brilliantly, of course), rather he acts them. One moment he's leaning back like Benny Goodman, firing his high notes into the firmament, the other he's probing the floor, sucking up the low notes like a straw. And sometimes he's hopping around on one leg before ducking and diving like a boxer (probably a flyweight, given Kari's slight physique). I don't think I've ever seen a more astonishing performer. The only parallel I can think of is the German reed-player, Michael Riessler, who has graced Lakeside Arts Centre on a couple of occasions and whose phenomenal breath control and ability to play chords through singing through his instrument Kari's performance reminded me of. Anyway, if we get the chance to have him here - and we can afford to have him - then I doubt I'll be saying no. So, that's Kari Kriiku - go and see him if you ever get the opportunity.

Finally, I've reached the point where I'm clearing the decks for an assault on the next season brochure. All the orchestras and repertoire are in place and I think (and hope) that it'll be as compelling as the last two. Hopefully you'll agree that it builds on Peter's wonderful work here and that you'll be spoilt for choice. There are a couple of new developments, too, and a quick word or two on these.

The BBC Philharmonic are going to be here in the Autumn with the first of what I hope will be many BBC Radio 3 Discovering Music concerts, where you get the chance to hear a major work in the repertoire and have it pulled apart, probed, interpreted and then reassembled by one of the BBC's leading presenters. We don't yet know who it'll be, but the work? Well, I don't suppose it'll do any harm to name it. Bruckner 6 - and how long is it since we've had a Bruckner symphony here? Too long, probably, but it's good to be able to rectify it with such a great orchestra as the BBC Phil.

The other big development is going to be a late night performance which, with reference to Bartok, Mahler and Mozart (take your pick), we've called NIGHTmusic. It'll be a FREE short slot after a number of main concerts in the season that will allow us to offer you some contemporary music (and not just contemporary) in an informal and welcoming format. So, if you've bemoaned the scarcity of contemporary voices in the season then here you are - new music with a new slot at the Royal Concert Hall.

That's a pretty big post. Time to go, I think - I've got a Drivetime Concert in June that's needing some attention.

Neil

PS If you're wondering why I didn't mention the Concertgebouw when rambling on about Amsterdam it's because they weren't at home when we were there. They were in London. Timing has always been a bit of a problem for me!