Visiting Patagonia in Argentina has been quite bizarre! I’ve just spent a week and a half with 11 other BBC NOW musicians working with schools, special schools and local orchestras in the Welsh colony of Patagonia. Although I was brought up in England, I was born in Aberystwyth in Wales and we kept the Welsh tradition going very strongly at home. Walking about this South American town (over 7000 miles from home) and suddenly coming across a Welsh flag outside a house is quite incredible. I’m very proud of being Welsh, and being here brings on that feeling of ‘Hiraeth’ that we have in Wales – which is a longing for your homeland – I think they feel it here, even though it’s the other side of the world, they’re extremely proud to be Welsh.

I’m fairly new to the experience of working in special schools and it was amazing to get such immediate reactions from the children. They wanted to play the instruments, interacting with rhythms that we were giving them; they took to all of it, just soaked it all up. In fact, there was a boy who had a riff of his own going: some of our players tried to play along with him and improvise around it and he really wasn’t happy ‒ he wanted to do it on his own! We later saw him going to another child in a wheelchair, put the scroll of the violin on to this boy’s arm and start playing to him, because he’d seen us do that with other children ‒ he got what we were trying to do, that it was something worthwhile, and that was very moving. 

During the week we also played with a string group from the small town of Trevelin who travelled to Gaiman, which is an eight-hour drive, in order to play with us. This string group was very impressive, they had some good violins, but generally in Patagonia they don’t have the instruments, or the facilities to develop; so we hope by us being here that it will inspire them to keep finding ways to carry on with classical music.

When we’re in the orchestra we’re quite removed from our audience so we don’t see how much it means to them, but out here we’ve really had an effect on the community; we’ve contributed to the cultural life and they’ve really contributed to our experience as well.

Lots of people from Wales have visited Patagonia this year because of the anniversary – it’s 150 years since the Welsh settlers arrived, but the teacher at one of the Welsh schools said to us she could sense that our visit had meant so much more. We hadn’t just come here for the celebrations – it was about the music and about engaging with the local communities.

We arrived in Buenos Aires yesterday where we have two concerts, which is very exciting because the Teatro Colón is such a famous concert hall. I played there, probably about 18 years ago with the English Chamber Orchestra so it will be interesting to see how it’s changed. I haven’t been to the other concert halls we’ll be playing, but I’ve heard that Santiago and Montevideo are supposed to be remarkable places to visit, and I’m looking forward to seeing a bit more of Argentina as well. With our week in Patagonia it’s only been a small group of us, so it’s going to be strange and fantastic for the full orchestra to be back to together again. It’s going to be just as rewarding, but in a different way. 

Hear the BBC National Orchestra of Wales tonight from 7.30pm on Radio 3 from the Teatro Colón, Buenos Aires, and hear more about the residency. 

• Watch Petroc Trelawny as he tours the Teatro Colon
• BBC National Orchestra of Wales
• BBC Performing Groups

The BBC Symphony Orchestra has been coming to Bad Kissingen practically every summer since 1998. It is an idyllic spa town in the Franconia region of northern Bavaria, where the good burghers of the surrounding areas come to take the waters and the Cure. I must be getting old because although I've been here a dozen times, I increasingly look forward to our visits here. 

Part of the reason is the air of relaxation amid the beautiful gardens, but also the venue, which is stunning. Built in 1913, the oak-panelled Regentenbau seats about 1000 people and has fine, warm acoustics. 
Particularly warm this year, for, like London, 'Bad K' (as we affectionately call the place) is experiencing a scorcher of a heat wave. The opening piece in the first concert  happily reflects this as we start with Grieg's first Peer Gynt suite. Most people like to think of the opening 'Morning mood' as a snow-covered mountain scene, set amidst the Norwegian fjords, yet it actually depicts sunrise in the Sahara desert where the itinerant Peer Gynt has ended up. With the heat around 30 degrees at 8pm, we are undergoing our own desert ordeals as reeds dry out and fingerboards turn into lakes of perspiration. Someone comments that this is good training for the Proms, which will soon be upon us.

Another heroic piece next as the young Israeli pianist Igor Levit bounds on to the stage to tackle Beethoven's mighty 'Emperor' piano concerto. I'm glad I'm not a betting man as I would have lost money on his choice of encore: the recently-deceased Ronald Stevenson's Peter Grimes Fantasy, which Igor took care to explain to the audience in fluent German. The piece ends with him leaning inside the piano and literally plucking a few notes from the opera.

We use the interval to slake thirsts and remove our white jackets, tho' if anything, it is still warmer outside than in. Sometimes, in the face of adverse conditions, an orchestra can pull an exciting performance out of the bag. So it was with Beethoven's 4th Symphony which Sakari Oramo seemed to make fizz from start to finish. The good people of Bad K clamoured for more. Fortunately we had an Elgarian calling card in the form of the overture to his first Wand of Youth Suite. Seldom done these days but full of character and and just enough chutzpah to send the audience away into the balmy air on a high. There is a dinner for all at the beautiful Ratskeller restaurant, a converted Town Hall.

Unusually we have a free day to rehydrate. Some brave the temperatures and play a round of golf, some masochists go on long bike rides. I go in search of a turnip (more on that vegetable later...). At lunch somebody produces a copy of the local paper which has reviewed last night's concert, flatteringly calling it the highlight of the festival.

At 10 o'clock the next morning we find the hall in a state of considerable excitement as 600+ school children have arrived to watch the rehearsal. They are in luck as the ridiculously talented Alina Ibragimova kicks off the rehearsal with a nimble rendition of Mendelssohn's Violin Concerto. After the break we run through a couple of Mozart arias with the wonderful Korean soprano Sumi Hwang. Then it is time to say farewell to my desk-partner, the turnip-loving Carol Ella (above) who leaves the orchestra after 10 years. Speeches and presentations are made and then another valediction to the director of the festival, Dr Kari Kahl-Wolfsjäger.

The incredible weather continues, soaring to 35 degrees, and I spend the afternoon stripping off clothes to cool down and watching Wimbledon with German commentary. Later at the hall I realise that I have taken off too many clothes as I have no socks. At that precise moment our conductor opens wide his dressing room door and says hello. I seize the moment and ask if he has a spare pair of black socks. He has. Concert saved and attire all in place, we head out into the garden for an orchestra photograph. This is taken by one of our viola players, Nikos Zarb, who is a talented photographer (his pictures usually adorn my Blog posts, this being no exception) to boot!

The Meistersinger overture gets a rousing performance and by the end Wagner has transformed my fingerboard into the River Rhein (I know, that's a different opera..). No such problems for Alina Ibragimova as she breezes effortlessly through the Mendelssohn and delights with a Bach Gavotte encore.

Before the interval Sumi Hwang appears looking radiant in a mint julep dress and sings so beautifully it makes me want to hear her sing the whole of the Magic Flute.

Brahms's Second Symphony is such a sunny piece that it is a perfect choice for such an evening and it really goes down a treat. Sakari whips up a blistering Brahms Hungarian Dance as an encore and we descend on the Ratskeller once more for noch einmal ein Stein. Something tells me we'll be back soon.

The BBC Symphony Chorus and Orchestra and Sakari Oramo open the 121st season of Henry Wood Promenade Concerts on Friday 17th July. The programme includes music by Nielsen, Mozart, Sibelius, Walton, and the world premiere of Gary Carpenter's Dadaville. 

FORM AND TEXT

I’ve been writing A Violence of Gifts for what feels like an eternity but, finally, the composition work is coming to an end. I’m now in the midst of making the conductor’s score, orchestral parts and the piano reduction for the choir and soloists. It seems a good moment to take stock and reflect on the origin of the project, particularly as the piece itself is concerned with beginnings.

The initial idea predates my residency with the BBC National Orchestra of Wales. It had been simmering at the back of my mind for several years before taking up my post. The first official meeting with the orchestra’s artistic team happened just over three years ago, in December 2011, over a coffee at the Wales Millennium Centre. I talked about my desire to create a work exploring the origins of light, matter and life, inspired by Haydn’s 1798 masterpiece The Creation but considered from the scientific viewpoint of the 21st century. It is testament to the supportive nature of the orchestra that their answer was simply to say, ‘Yes, let’s go for it!’

My first task was to think about text. I had been rereading the Book of Genesis and Milton’s Paradise Lost, which were important sources of inspiration for Haydn’s oratorio. I searched through existing poetry but nothing took hold. The contemporary scientific viewpoint I wanted to incorporate hadn’t seemed to filter into the works of the poets I admired. I knew I needed to commission a new text rather than use existing words.

I heard Owen Sheers speak at the Hay Festival and then read his beautiful poetry collection Skirrid Hill. I was immediately struck by the vivid imagery and powerful themes in his writing. I had a hunch he might be interested in the subject matter and so I contacted him to ask if he’d like to get involved. He was keen. We arranged a breakfast meeting in early January 2012. Owen was deep in rehearsals for his new play – The Two Worlds of Charlie F – so we didn’t have much time. I swiftly explained my idea and Owen was fired up by the concept. We decided to work together.

In subsequent meetings we discussed structure, form, language, and potential characterisation. We studied the three-part construction of The Creation – the first part explores the creation of light and matter, the second explores the creation of life and the third tells the biblical story of Adam and Eve. Owen had the idea to make our piece in two parts: the first looking at the early universe – the origins of time, space and matter – and the second exploring the conditions which allowed the first living organisms to emerge from the early Hadean Earth. Owen also thought about the idea of writing for two soloists, a man and a woman, potentially characterised as a couple of scientists working together. Their tale could be woven through the structure of the piece mirroring the third part of Haydn’s oratorio.

As the piece developed these initial structural ideas have informed and influenced our thinking although the piece now has a much more fluid form. We have retained the twin strands exploring the origins of the universe and the origins of life, but, rather than being in two distinct sections, the two strands are now intertwined throughout the work in a sort of double helix structure. One section, a duet for the solo soprano and baritone called Imagine that moment, mirrors this idea perfectly as the soprano ruminates on the idea of being present at the dawn of time whilst the baritone considers what the Earth may have been like as the first single-cell life forms began to emerge. The soprano and baritone do not represent specific characters although the last number, 'It is not answers we seek', alludes to the idea they may be a couple about to bring a new life into the world. They consider how each new living thing is a culmination, an unbroken thread, stretching back millennia to the early Earth.

It was to be another 18 months before funding was in place from the Jerwood Charitable Foundation to support the commissioning of Owen’s text. The next stage was to travel to Switzerland to begin our creative journey and start exploring our ideas for the piece in more depth. But more on that in the next blog.

The BBC National Orchestra and Chorus of Wales will perform A Violence of Gifts on Saturday 18 April, 7.30pm at St David’s Hall, Cardiff. It will also be broadcast live on BBC Radio 3. 

• BBC National Orchestra and Chorus of Wales
• Mark Bowden
• Owen Sheers
• A Violence of Gifts – Blog Part 1

 

 

During my first week we launched BBC Four’s Year of Song and Dance, and Radio 3 will be linking up with some programmes around BBC Young Dancer; a whole Classical Voices Season will herald the return of the Cardiff Singer of the World competition.  And I ended the week at the Barbican with the BBC Symphony Orchestra performing Nielsen’s 3rd Symphony.  Sakari Oramo is proving to be one of the great Nielsen interpreters – if you missed it, you can find it on the BBC iPlayer...  I am also looking forward later on to listening to Radio 3’s Celtic Connections from Glasgow.

So bring on week two… With the prospect of hearing on Radio 3 the previously unbroadcast Simon Rattle Beethoven cycle with the CBSO – I was at the live concerts many years ago in a previous life – can’t wait to hear them again after all those years. 

• Listen again - Music by Sibelius, Rachmaninov and Nielsen's 3rd Symphony
• The Year of Song and Dance
• BBC Young Dancer
• Cardiff Singer of the World 2015
• Radio 3 - Celebrating Simon Rattle
• Radio 3 - Celtic Connections

 

 

BBC Symphony Orchestra chief conductor Sakari Oramo continues his Nielsen series on Friday the 16^th, with the Third Symphony. It starts with 26 bangs, as Sub-Principal Viola Phil Hall explains in this insider’s guide to the symphonies

Anniversary years often provide a useful opportunity for reviewing a composer's output. In 2015 we have the sesquicentenary of the birth of two of Scandinavia's greatest symphonists: Finland's Jean Sibelius and from Denmark, Carl Nielsen. In our 2014-15 Barbican season the BBCSO has elected to celebrate the six symphonies of Nielsen with chief conductor Sakari Oramo. A canny decision as Sakari has just finished recording them all for the Swedish BIS label with his ‘other’ orchestra, the Royal Stockholm Philharmonic, to much critical acclaim.

One of the nice things about doing a complete symphonic cycle (with the possible exception of those by Beethoven and Brahms) is that new discoveries will be made because you have probably not played them all before.  There are inevitably some that are performed much more than others and often it is the earlier ones that are overlooked in favour of the composer's more mature works.

 

It has been 25 years since we last played Nielsen's first two symphonies. When he wrote his first symphony Nielsen was still a jobbing second violinist in the Royal Danish Orchestra in Copenhagen. He must have been a brave man (I can't imagine having a big piece of mine performed by critical colleagues!) yet the work was a success. Working on it with Sakari I was struck by some of the piece's novel ideas ‒ unusual use of instruments and key relationships ‒ but more so by how much like the Nielsen we all know and love it sounded. Sure, you can detect other influences (notably Brahms) but the piece already bears his quirky stamp, trademark energy and difficult fugal writing.

Even more so the Second Symphony which positively brims over at the start. As with four of the others, Nielsen gives this symphony a subtitle ‒ The Four Temperaments ‒ and each movement reflects these human moods brilliantly.

The optimistic Third Symphony ‒ Sinfonia Espansiva ‒ (my personal favourite which we will perform on Friday) starts with a bang; well, 26 bangs actually, the same note repeated, before launching into a typically urgent theme. Calm is restored in the bucolic second movement with the unusual inclusion of a wordless soprano and baritone.

The best known and most dramatic is the Fourth, known as The Inextinguishable; it is a continuous ‘tour de force’ relenting only for a brief quasi-Baroque passage in the middle. Written during the First World War, the double timpani ‘battle’ at the end is usually worth the ticket price alone!

Another battle of sorts takes place in the Fifth symphony, this time with the orchestra and a snare drum which seemingly tries to disrupt things in the first movement. The piece is also quite war-like but unusually in just two parts. In the second part the drummer plays in the distance, off-stage, as if defeated by the orchestra. Twenty years ago this led to an embarrassing situation when the BBCSO played it in Munich. The over-zealous usher tried to stop Kevin Nutty playing his drum off-stage saying: ‘You cannot play that here, there is a concert going on!’

The final Nielsen symphony is probably the most difficult and (ironically) sub-titled Simple Symphony! Although he reverts to four movements it is easily his most quirky and contains a movement for just wind and percussion instruments (with no real melody!) and is probably the only symphony ever written to end with a bassoon raspberry!

• Book for Friday's Concert
• BBC Symphony Orchestra
• Sakari Oramo - biography
• Carl Nielsen
• Radio 3 - Discovering Nielsen